Here we are in the month of October. I, like many others, have traditions for Halloween. Halloween is the time of year we learn to deal with our fear in fun ways. A few of my traditions are reading, writing, and watching. I thought I would share some of my favorite books and movies, and one of my pieces of Halloween literature at the end!
I'm going to start out with some reading suggestions for adults. I
'll start out with the classics: Mary Shelley's
Frankenstein, Bram Stoker's
Dracula, and Robert Louis Stevenson's
The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. They not only give us a good scare, but also are well-written and have lessons to be learned. But I also like the more modern versions of horror literature, such as Stephen King's
The Shining (better than the movie) and
Salem's Lot (also better than than the movie). I have also always enjoyed reading the works of Edgar Allan Poe, the 1800's master of horror; his poems are spine-tingling and timeless.
I also have several favorite movies that I re-watch every October, and that I recommend for good scares and good fun. Stephen King is always a favorite; Jack Nicholson is memorably demonic in
The Shining,
and
Children of the Corn has made me look at cornfields in a whole new light. I'd also suggest
The Legend of Hell House because it is traditional and scary, and also because good wins out over evil in the end!
The Exorcist is the scariest of the scariest, and is based on a true story in St. Louis.
Poltergeist is another one that interrupts my sleep and has always made me afraid to look under the bed.
Let's balance the horror with some fun and laughter! I'd suggest
Zombieland-not only is it hilarious and exciting, but it also features a guest appearance of Bill Murray. And speaking of Bill Murray, it's always fun to watch
Ghostbusters (which is pretty safe for kids). The
Evil Dead movies are a fusion of horror and comedy. Also, please have some classic comedy with
Young Frankenstein.
Enough with the movies for the adults. Let's share some of this fun with the kids. One of the first I would suggest is
It's The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown!-who doesn't love that? My personal favorite kid-friendly Halloween special is
Garfield's Halloween Adventure-it's feelgood and fun for the whole family (I love Garfield)! I would also suggest Disney's
The Legend of Sleepy Hollow (not too scary)
. The youngest children will really love
Barney Halloween Party.
Some Halloween books that children will love reading (and that I still enjoy) are
Monster Museum-it's got really cool drawings and poems about monsters. Kids will also enjoy
Halloween Forest and
Room on the Broom. Growing up, one of my all time favorite paperbacks was
In A Dark, Dark Room.
Writing always helps me dispel my fears. If I write something scary myself, it lessons the fear I have about other things. I'm going to subject you to one of these compositions (it's a poem).
I depart from my work, my destination is my home.
I feel so tired, I stumble and groan.
All of a sudden, a black cloud separates from the sky,
and covers me completely, this is no lie.
When it withdraws, I open my eye,
and what is there for it to spy?
Not far off, I see a rusty gate.
I try to open it but find that I am too late.
The moon is not out like it had been,
at the time when
the cloud covered me.
In the sky there is no star. Black clouds are all I see.
I decide that I must go blindly, it may pay.
I have no candle to light my way.
I start on my path, with nothing else to do.
There seems to be no life here, too.
There is no grass, only black soil is here.
But is darker than the soil at home, so I find fear.
There are no live plants, there are only brown, long-dead weeds,
I know that some good foliage is what the ground needs.
Gravestones are seen everywhere,
the sight pricks up my hair.
I have no idea how I can see these sights,
the moon is not out, but there seem to be strange lights.
All of a sudden I see a shadow moving,
I doubt that it is my own. The thought is not soothing.
Old brown leaves crunch under my boots,
out of the ground I can see jutting tree roots,
This old churchyard seems miles long.
How will I know if the path I take is wrong?
The skies are misty, very dark gray,
these mists would obscure the rising sun's first ray.
Old twigs lie scattered throughout the ground,
in large numbers their remains abound.
The mist only slightly lifts, but reveals to me
a very old church, rundown, I see.
It is quite far away, but I can still hear
a ghastly bell, which arouses fear.
I cannot understand
who would wish to ring a bell in this wasteland.
I trudge on, and I see
an enormous, dead black oak tree.
The tree has not a single leaf, but my appearance makes me think how
it might be thinking of snatching me right now.
It is just a tree, I reassure myself, what could it do?
If only I knew.
I cautiously pass on by it.
I do not dare to take a minute to sit.
Somewhere a raven caws ominously,
if I only had the old rusty gate's key!
But I have to mention
that I am trapped in this dimension.
I see rats scurrying around a tombstone,
searching for flesh to pick off a bone,
I go on, and find a ditch on the way,
might it have good water? It may.
I can't resist, I must take a sip,
I must drink more than a single drip.
The water is awful, I will relate.
But I must cause my thirst to abate.
I walk on and am very slow,
I can tell, I know.
All of a sudden, I arrive at a gravestone,
there are no others, it is completely alone.
I see the exit to the gate,
moonlight pours in from outside it, but with no debate,
I have not the key, so here I will remain.
My confidence does wane.
This lone gravestone has no writing, I wonder why,
but soon I am so scared that my throat is again dry.
I see again the looming shadow,
it is huge, reaching from high to low.
All of a sudden, I begin sinking into the earth,
the ground is so cold and wet, I wish I was sitting beside my hearth.
I attempt to lift myself out,
but in my own strength I have doubt.
I land in a coffin with the lid closed tight,
I kick and struggle with all my might.
I have no light,
so my anxiety increases-there is no help in sight.
It is so dark,
but-hark!
I hear a name being scratched on the gravestone,
and I then realize that it must be my own.
