As everyone who doesn’t stick their fingers in their ears and go LALALALA knows, I detest Halloween. Got nothing against the observation, per se, or the parties or the celebration of death as part of life. Got nothing against ghosts. Some of my best friends are dead, I’m sad to say.
What I hate about Halloween is its co-option by slasher flics, oozing zombies, ghastly monsters/predators/victims, women dressed as Sexy-Fill-In-The-Blank, and caricatures of marginalized people. If there’s anything that frightens, sickens, or infuriates me, I’m sure to encounter it during the Halloween season.
On the other hand, it tickles me that some Christians reject Halloween and celebrate the harvest instead. Somebody should tell them that “Halloween” is short for “All Hallows Eve,” and is a Christian name for a pagan festival celebrating … well … the harvest, including the harvest of souls.
Here’s my favorite Halloween book: Ray Bradbury’s THE HALLOWEEN TREE. Bradbury was all about the boys, but I forgive him that in this book. I’m sure he’s glad to hear it.
Now, get this: My friend, Jolene Mottern, has been holding out on me. Turns out, she’s a writer and never told me!!!!! Here’s a really spooky and really good story she wrote that I stumbled upon by askident.
I know folks who identify as witches, and they’re almost all good people. There are
assholes rotten apples in every barrel, of course, but most of them are good folks. So I really hate depictions of witches as ugly, dangerous psychopaths. I make an exception for this movie: Disney’s Hocus Pocus. Why? Because 1) Bette Midler 2) a very young Sean Murray (NCIS), and 3) a nice, dry zombie, like we used to have when I was a girl.
I leave you today with this:
A WRITING PROMPT FROM ME TO YOU: What is your main character’s least favorite holiday? Why?