As October 31st approached, awaiting to pounce from some dark corner, family Halloween plans were made. Over the past few years, it has become tradition to go to Halloween Horror Nights at Universal Studios and/or to Howl-O-Scream at Busch Gardens. After last’s year’s chaos to attend both, we decided to gear all our expected scary surprises and resources to only one. The winner?
Howl-O-Scream.

On November 1st, myself, my husband, a good friend and my sister-in-law attended the Howl-O-Scream at Busch Gardens in Tampa, Florida. We all saved up our hard earned cash and bought tickets to the “Embalming Tour”. This tour included a personal tour guide, free dinner as we watched one of the three shows, strolling through the park an hour or so before opening time with most rides and haunted houses open, preferred parking, VIP beverage areas, some themed free goodies, VIP seating for shows and a presentation/discussion with a creative mind behind all that scary stuff. Best of all: no waiting in any lines for the rides or haunted houses.

All and all it was a phenomenal experience. We were all frightfully delighted by the time and detail put into the hundreds of costumes and the five haunted houses. Though, I found the scare zones were not as prevalent or as anxiety-producing as last year, but was in no way a hindrance to our fun. Highlights for me were the cacophony of chain saws you encountered like a gauntlet at the end of one of the haunted houses, the dark fantasy skeletal dragon/monster costumes walking around, the sliders skating around the park scaring people senseless, the eerie whispers into my ears by the spooks, learning about the creation process - just to name a few!

I’d definitely do it again in a heart beat. And probably will next year.

Not long now! National Novel Writing Month begins November 1st.

Many writers have picked up that pen (or meticulously cleaned that keyboard) in preparedness for the upcoming writing roller coaster that is NaNoWriMo. Authors everywhere have declared with the utmost sincerity to carve out time from their busy schedules to enable them to write a 50,000 word novel in just thirty days… that they will allow themselves to write “crap”, ignore a sink full of dirty dishes, allow laundry to sit idle, partake of various caffeinated beverages, and righteously indulge in a bit of chocolaty rewards.

NaNoWriMo allows each of the participants to manage their bio, post their word progress, listen to entertaining and informative weekly podcasts as well as view a menagerie of forums to discuss, contemplate, motivate and create. In no way is NaNoWriMo a contest. The only reward is the ability to brag, to bask in your own glory of accomplishing your goal and (upon verifying your words written) the printing of an official NaNoWriMo certificate declaring your victory. This will be my third year participating in NaNoWriMo. The first year reaped the innards of my first novel, while the second year had me stuck at just under 20k words due to an astronomically busy schedule. But there are no excuses this year, as my schedule is relatively wide open. I’m still working on which ideas I will pursue for this year’s NaNo novel plot.

Many participants of my Word Whimsy writers group are also doing NaNoWriMo. Writing a novel while knowing others are undertaking the same challenge and dealing with the same problems as you are is truly motivational, if not inspirational. For anyone that has ever toyed with the idea of writing a novel, this is the best time to put yourself up to the challenge.

My husband and I drove to Mt. Dora/Zellwood yesterday (Oct. 5) in search of adventure. We found what appeared to be a good prospect at Long and Scott Farm’s 2008 Corn Maze. Neither of us had any idea what to expect.

Kids scampering, skipping, arguing, staring, etc., and outnumbering adults three to one, had us wondering if this maze thing would entertain us. After a lengthy wait in a short line, we bought our ten-dollar each tickets and awaited the safety video to start rolling. Before long we were greeted with a rustic fellow sporting a safari hat on the screen telling us about corn maze safety and about the worksheet we held in our hands. Clues to the word games were strewn about at a series of stations hidden within the maze. A picture of the wacky-pathed maze was encrypted on the back of the worksheet. For only a dollar, one could purchase the “maze vision glasses” to view the map.

With no glasses and all my hopes and faith riding on my navigator - my husband - we resisted the nearby mouth-watering turkey legs and funnel cakes and entered the larger maze. (There is a smaller one to sample first.) Given a mini flagged pole to boost into the air and wave upon emergency or utter lost-ness, my husband and I decided upon the rule of right. Some may call it the rule of left, but as long as you stick to one direction it rings true.

Leaving civiliaztion as we knew it, we quickly found how confusing and disorienting a dense corn field can be. And we were elated that we chose the rule of right. With each turn or spin-around, we still felt purposeful and that progress was being made. After finding a few “secret” stations, we traveled the rule of left for a while, then upon entering a new part of the maze, returned to the rule of right. We discovered a bridge, where we graciously bought a one-dollar cold water to propel us forward. Luckily the day was overcast with a bit of a breeze. Still, my heart raced a bit at the long walk and I felt the hot, clammy cloud of perspiration.

Thirty-five minutes into the labyrinth, we found another exit. But it wasn’t the exit. So still eyeing the food stands, we forced ourselves back into the maze to achieve victory. With each traipsing step and every tired calf muscle the jumble of paths became that more challenging. Again, without the rule of right - which my husband swears he owes to all those years of dungeon crawling while playing Dungeons & Dragons - we would have been hopelessly lost. And at some point I’d probably have begun to panic a little at the realization of being trapped.

Twenty-five minutes later, we found all but four of the hidden stations and exited the maze unscathed, exhausted and relieved. We celebrated with a high-five, fruit punch and a funnel cake drizzled with some cherries. The only crimp - my shoes, socks and ankles were black from the dusty soil among the corn.

We browsed the marketplace and scored some fine produce: a carvable pumpkin, medium-sized cucumbers, fresh grapes and two green peppers for under ten-dollars. Chomping on luscious grapes, we drove through downtown Mt. Dora with its many shops and historic feel and noted maybe we’d make that an adventure for another day.

Thumbs up for this adventure! The only thing that could have personally made it better for me is the addition of a Halloween theme. Who wouldn’t want to be scared out of their wits while attempting to navigate through a maze in a cornfield? Priceless. Yet I understand the addition of weather-proof bats and such along with more staff would make the ticket prizes soar and be the new teen hang-out. Right now, the trip to Long and Scott Farms is very much a family friendly one: one good’ol day alongside friends, family and nature.

(A few pictures here.)

Living in Florida, seasons typically transition with subtle flair. As the stifling veil of humidity relinquishes, one can almost hear an audible sigh of relief from deep within the tropical terrain while cool breezes refreshingly drift amongst palms and oaks. If we’re lucky, this spell of briskness will remain well past October. (It’s not uncommon to be shopping for Christmas trees in eighty degree weather.)

Autumn with its swirling winds, warm colorful hues and soft whisperings to stoke the hearth has inevitably become my most favorite time of year. As a child growing up in New Hampshire, we raked scores of fallen leaves and drank many mugs of apple cider. As Halloween approached, I remember making it a point to converse with my older sisters about our costume choices. Every glittery or gruesome design we wore was crafted by our own hands and imaginations. Dark sunglasses and mom’s rabbit fur coat transformed me into a glamorous movie star. A long stuffed stocking became a tail and an altered headband beheld cardboard pointed ears to transform one into a black cat. A hundred staples and colored markers carefully dragged across huge lengths of poster board became a chicken costume: a beaked head piece and sun-yellow wings. Every year we sought a new creation, unsatisfied to wear an older disguise.

Once readied and the light dwindled to reveal candlelight in carved pumpkins, we traveled the neighborhood in the frosty cold collecting chocolaty treats in brown paper bags. Sometimes, snowflakes lightly fluttered upon our candy seeking troupe, while other nights had us staring at a glowing full moon. Autumn was always a time of magical and spooky delights.

This year I’ve gathered the stone gargoyle and leafy garlands, the miniature ceramic cauldron and the spider marked plastic ware, to entice some of those old comforts into the home. My hope is that October waltzes in like Autumn, dancing to a slow beat. May each hour linger, let the sands of time descend like gentle snowflakes, so that we may enjoy and make the best of revitalizing days before the frantic Thanksgiving preparations commence and the gift-buying rush of Christmas is upon us.

My local writer’s group met last Saturday. Between reminiscing, storytelling, caffeine and sugary goodies, several paragraphs were lavishly written.

I highly recommend joining a writer’s group to anyone with the desire to write. Whether it be for the enjoyment of writing or to become a published author one day, mingling with other writers brings inspiration, laughs and a feeling of accomplishment as stories are shared and discussed. Plus, you receive the added realization that your not the only “weirdo” in the world whom has been stricken with the burning itch to write.

Being around other writers reiterates: write for enjoyment first, publication later. And those words are key in shattering through the sometimes drudgery of nailing a story to paper. Doubting thoughts, like spiteful imps, lurk around every corner. Attending a writers group is a good way to navigate the begruging maze and even gives those fiends a nice bashing. Look around you, peer straight into their beady eyes and pummel one on the head for me!

I had been tossing around the idea of trying my hand at writing as a career. Working full-time hours, I worked hard to divvy up my free moments into chunks of time for family, eating, cleaning, fun, relaxation, research and writing. Constantly striving to keep a balance quickly left me exhausted and feeling I’d let myself or someone down. And I felt my writing moved at a frustrating snail’s pace.

I enjoyed my job as a graphic artist and paginator - the daunting deadlines, the creative chaos, working alongside affable co-workers, editing graphics and text into eye-catching advertisements. At the same time, I was also beginning to enjoy the writing process - typing peacefully at the keyboard, splicing plots and backgrounds, creating living worlds and thriving beings that began to evolve off the page. Hence, something had to give way.

With the rampant downsizing in the newspaper field, I had an inkling the effects would funnel down to my department eventually. And with horror and a sense of relief, two weeks ago I found myself unemployed with the new found time I had so desperately wanted.

Characters stuck in limbo, whom periodically prodded my brain with pokes of “hey, what about me!” are having a parade somewhere. I just know it. The time has come to finish telling their story – of their observations and naiveties, of their success and regrets, of their heart aches and deepest desires. To write of those worlds that revolve to the rhythm of my own breathing.

Writing a good story is not an easy task in the least. And getting it down on paper only comes from sitting your butt in the chair for a set amount of time each day and doing only one thing: Writing. And keep writing. As with most things, the more you do it, the better at it you become. This blog was created with that sentiment in mind.

All in all, my spirit finds the path of weaving words into strong, appealing paragraphs that tell of unforgettable people and places irresistible. I deem it a worthy adventure.