Happy October!! Only one of the greatest months of the year, only one of the most pleasant weather months in the year (at least where I live), andddddd the ONLY month in which we celebrate Halloween… you see where I’m going with this?
I’m back with another discussion post this month! This time I want to hear all about your costumes!! I want to hear from everyone. Those who have been planning their costumes months in advance, those who decide to dress up very last minute and even those who don’t like Halloween and definitely, will not, in no way dress up. I want to hear from you all and your reasonings behind why you don’t wear a costume (if you don’t) and why you do wear a costume (if you choose to!) and how you pick who you want to be. I’m honestly really curious about this and can’t wait to see your responses in this lovely autumn, candy induced coma, magic of a month’s discussion post!
Origins
The origins of Halloween reach all the way back to nearly 2,000 years ago when the Celts walked the earth, and celebrated the end of the year with their festival of Samhain as summer was coming to near death and winter coming to near breath. The Celts believed that the boundaries between the living and the dead were very blurred during this time and therefore they lit bonfires, burned crops, sacrificed livestock and wore costumes all for their gods. At least according to History.com. Winter marked the start of their new year and prophecies were told and fortunes read. The spirits that were said to walk on this night tended to cause trouble and mischief but their presence made it easier for the priests to predict the future of the coming year. The Celts wore costumes to revere the spirits and also to dispel or ward off the more undesirable ones.
To Costume, or To Not Costume?
So that leaves us today in the modern world. I know there are plenty of people out there who don’t celebrate Halloween. Maybe it’s too childish for some or maybe they just don’t like spooky stuff or maybe… for any other myriad of reasons. Everyone’s opinion is valid!!
Then that leaves the rest of us. Those who wake up, feel the disturbed magical air, and decide to put on the costume.
Now this is where I can get super philosophical and argue that there are those of us humans who put on the mask everyday no matter if it’s October 31st or not. Those who hide their true selves anyway. Those with uniforms of ties, lipstick and shiny polished shoes that don’t match who we are on the inside in the slightest. Does that make Halloween any different then any other day of the year then if you think about it that way?
(Everyone has their own personal demons or spirits to contend with.)
Everyone of us has worn a mask at some point in our lives. Everyone. Halloween though is the only day when it is outright encouraged.
Now this is where it gets interesting. I’m curious as to how everyone chooses their costumes. I know for me the last four years I have been Jessica Jones. No. Lie.
And I’ll tell you exactly why. Now I know Jessica is far from the true blue hero that is Captain America. (Trust me, I know and I love him too.) But Jessica is in no way true blue, she’s black. She doesn’t have an optimistic, can do attitude, in fact she is much more on the pessimistic side. Not to mention she is most assuredly, undoubtably, an alcoholic. Despite all this though, she is a character who impacted me deeply.
The core of the reason why I have chosen to be her for the past four years is because when I dress up for Halloween I pick someone who I resonate with. Despite all of her flaws, and she has plenty, Jessica is one of my heroes. Someone with qualities I wish were my own. (No, not the alcoholism or the pessimism or foul mouth or lack of self worth). Those flaws though are what make her relatable and make her human. Without them she probably wouldn’t’ have hit my soul as hard as she did, and make her other more favorable qualities shine. So what did sucker punch my soul about her? When I pick my costume I always make it personal.
Jessica had a rough upbringing. A traumatic childhood accident in losing her family at an early age, the rough experience and isolation of having super powers through her life, and, of course not to mention, all the strings attached to Killgrave and what he did to her. Despite that though Jessica, for the people she loved, found the will to have courage and face her fears. That to me is truly inspiring and is one of the greatest marvels of humanity that I will never get tired of. The power of love to make us rise above ourselves and have courage to face something near unfaceable. It gets me every time.
Also, growing up on the shorter and tinier side I’ve had my own fair share of experience of being overlooked. Then you have Jessica, a skinny smallish woman, who can fucking lift an entire 16 wheeler over her head. I mean, GOALS. Never underestimate us so called little girls. We are so much more powerful than the world will give us credit for, and when I saw Jess back in 2015 I really started believing it.
Not to mention, her tough personality. Jessica Jones sees your bullshit and looks right through it. I love that. Her personality has no hold for your mask, your lies. She is a private investigator and her job description is to legit find out all the dirty little secrets of who you are.
Jessica Jones is my hero. She is someone who has qualities I admire and hope to one day incorporate into my own personal being. The courage, the strength, the no time for your bullshit attitude. These are all characteristics I wish I had more of. So every year, I try to harness her energy for Halloween and I’ve come to find each year I get a little closer to being the person I want to be. That’s how I decide on my costume, at least.
What about you guys though? If you don’t dress up, tell me why. If you do dress up, tell me why. Do you pick your costume on someone who inspires you (like me)? Do pick a character arbitrarily? Do you pick a costume based on humor? Do you pick a costume for the scare factor? Do you pick someone or something that has no resemblance to you whatsoever?
I’m really so curious!! To each and every one of you, thank you for reading my ramblings haha! May Autumn’s reign be long this year and may you each have a very happy, or haunted, Halloween!
Currently listening: “This Is Halloween” – The Nightmare Before Christmas Currently (re) watching: Over The Garden Wall Currently reading: Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo
Boo. (Sorry I couldn’t resist!) Happy Halloween! Thank goodness for October. After the harshness of September, October never fails to cheer me up. Pumpkin spice lattes, apple picking, orange leaves and sweater weather. Also, (*cough*) CANDY (*cough*).
Me, tonight.
My October goals were (*drumroll, please*):
Rework my WIP, which is a check. I definitely changed things around a bit and now have an idea for how I’m going to handle NaNo!
Post 1 Living Life vignette, HAHA CHECK! I posted two.
Go pumpkin and apple picking, check check! This one was easy since I go every year.
Heading into (NANOWRIMO) November this is the plan:
Write 25,000 words for my WIP. I’m a slow writer I’ve learned, so I set a more realistic goal for myself this NaNoWriMo.
Post at least 1 Living Life vignette again this month. Honestly with NaNo I’ll be lucky if I have time for just one. But I’m going to try!
Me, this entire month. Probably.
What I Read:
Books Read: –The Secret History by Donna Tartt. I don’t think I can do this book justice. It just needs to be read to be understood. Wow. It’s dark… but the characters are alive. They breathe just like you and me. So many connections to the classics. CHARLES, OH BABY . And Henry, I don’t even. Honestly, (*beware, spoilers coming*) I expected more people to die at the end the way this story was going and Francis even comments on it somewhere at the end that Henry should have just killed them all. Enthralling story that no matter how dark it gets you just need to see it to the end. Very dark… can put you in a black cloud/ endless dark tunnel mood. SO WELL THOUGHT OUT AND WRITTEN. Julian, and the depiction of evil in him (as something that seems good on the surface). I need a mental break. –Something Wicked This Way Comes by Ray Bradbury. I was meaning to read this for a while and then someone mentioned it at work and I took it as a sign to just BUY IT. This book is a TRIP. Whoa baby. In the best possible way. An October book, true and true. I’m going to read this again next October and maybe the October after that. It’s a great book, not necessarily one of my all time favorites but it’s a GREAT book. It’s simple (the moral) but haunting and well played. Out there prose that paints a definite picture. The story will stay with you long after you finish it. –The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson- The story ends the same way it begins and I got chills after reading the last paragraph. I see where all the inspiration for the show came from. Good bones. Chilling and atmospheric. The show goes a lot more in depth, and that is what I knew first so my impression may be a little skewed. But I enjoyed reading the book. Nell, poor baby, and the house is quite the character itself. Madness. Loneliness. Theo was my favorite and Luke grew on me. But Nell, Nell, Nell still lingers in my mind. The foreshadowing all along makes it so clear from the beginning of the story to the end. –Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo. I’m only three chapters in but I can tell that this book is amazing. I’m sold. Next Snapshot! I’ll go into more detail but right now I’m LOVING it.
What I’ll Be Writing:
This month, no lie, my WIP and NaNoWriMo is my main priority so my posting will be sporadic at best. I’m going to try to post 1 Living Life vignette, and of course any poetry or tags that cross my way but not much more than that. I’m still debating on whether or not to post weekly NaNo updates… would you guys be interested in hearing about that? And of course at the end of the month you can expect my ever consistent Snapshot! post.
I watch Over The Garden Wall every Halloween, and right after I post this I’m going to go grab a Twix and head into the Unknown. October was fun and I’m hoping to have just as much fun in November. That pesky WIP of mine that has been haunting my mind for years is going to get written!
Are any of you doing NaNoWriMo this year? What are your stories about? I’d love to hear about them!
Detached and lonely, in the coldest part of the wood not far beyond the twisting river and gnarled elm tree is where the old shack stood. Broken windows but a locked door. Black walls in the dark, but honestly red at the core. Inside there are things it does not want you to see but we all see them once… just not early.
The first is used last when it’s all done. It has a few names, including One.
Two has teeth just like a saw. With a restrictive diet, it only eats raw.
Don’t let the size bring a sigh of relief, three steals the skin just like a thief.
Nestled at your throat, four, is the kiss of a lover you will not miss.
This one has a temper its wit in steel burning. Feel the tongue of the fifth, as the hilt is turning.
The devil himself even has a favorite scythe. Just guess which he borrows to take life.
Seven, jealous, does not play well with others. It has tried before to destroy its sisters and brothers.
Perfect eight, symmetrical and kind. The holiest death that one can find.
Brutal and slow nine is the oldest among it will take its time piercing each lung.
Brightness will avoid ten’s dark heart. Ignorant and crass its not very smart.
Eleven, the slyest and most intelligent in sin because there are two and the blades are twins.
Entitled and fortune born its rust color will suck the souls from its victims every time, given twelve’s luck.
The final is classic, just long and lean, and that everyone makes number thirteen.
Far away and close all the same. The sinister shack waits, the master of life’s game. One of the scythes each of us will meet. On the day the reaper comes who are you going to greet?
I saw two boys standing, in the picture, on the broken stair. One with a frown, and the other, without a care.
The black haired one, looking very serious and quite proud, held a book in his hand his shoulders pitched forward as if he had just bowed.
The lad with the smirk and penny copper hair all tousled about his face, had his eyes far off and looking away as he stared into space.
It was taken twenty three years ago my mother told me. When the world was summer and she and they played near the sea.
On Roan Island where they lived, there was a tale. You see, the entrance must be given one soul to go beyond the veil.
My mother said the boy made of copper, brash and not coy, had a timeless laugh always heard at the wrong time that sounded with no joy.
The dark haired one, was forged of iron and shadow smart. His cracks were always witty but they didn’t come from his heart.
There was a game they played those nights by the sea. “Something more must be waiting for our trio of three.”
One long summer, when the ocean was storming and the moon was bright, one of them disappeared into the night.
He vanished, like a light in the dark. The light of soul, gone, out like a spark.
“Never saw him again.” My mother sighed, her words slow. “Other things I see now ever since that night.” and her voice was so low.
“What? What are you seeing that I can’t?” I asked shrewdly. The picture crinkled in my hand the boys wrinkling crudely.
My mother stared straight her eyes startled and wide and looking right through me. “I watch the dead now, sweetie, for years they’ve come and go creaking floors and spilling tea
they’ll never leave me alone. By the sea we played that stupid game. Never the one soul I wanted to see but do I call his name. “
“Who?” I asked. “Is it that you want to meet?” She took the photo in hand and looked down forlornly. There was salt in her eyes, and in her hair fell sand.
“One day the game would catch up I always knew. The time to collect the sin I owe, proud and true.”
She pointed down and I stared, then she said only to me. “Until now I never saw him but now in this room there are three.”
It was just like a drum that was picking up the tempo. My heart, that was.
“Can you see him?”
Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. A rising crescendo I couldn’t get a handle on. “I can’t see anything. It’s too dark.” The most I could make out was an outline. The slope of the stairs with the creaking last step, the lamp with the twisted metal where I had scraped my shoulder, and the barricade of wood nailed to the door. There were only traces of light trying to find a way in through the cracks in the boarded up windows. It had to be nearly dawn by now.
“Not for long.” Dmitri leaned back against the surface of the overturned dining room table, brushing his shoulder against my own. The contact pushed my already frayed nerves more on to the edge, making me wince. He didn’t seem to notice, as he continued “We have to hold out.”
That was the goal… but the longer the music played in the background, the harder it was to control my breathing. That drum in my chest and the phonograph were marching a perfect beat to the classical music that hadn’t stopped playing the entire time. In an empty mansion, with no one around for miles, I guess even monsters needed something to fill the silence that too much solitude brought on.
I almost felt bad, for a second. The smell of blood was too prevalent for the feeling to last any longer. It was dripping down my arm, faster than I could stop it and Dmitri was no better off. The monster had stabbed its nails into his side.
“He’s going to find us again.”
Dmitri grunted, guttural and low, and in hindsight it might even have been a laugh. “Beyond all doubt.” Between the smell of blood and the creaking last step it was a matter of moments.
The music was getting louder by the second and I knew that it was getting closer. It seemed to follow wherever it went. In the library it had been overwhelming, like trying to fight with an entire orchestra bowing in your ear. Not ideal circumstances for a hunt.
Behind the fallen table, I stood up. The hiding spot would not hold forever. Nothing could. Not even immortals were entirely safe. Dmitri looked up, but he didn’t say anything. I sidestepped carefully over his long legs but he caught me quick, with startling strength, and squeezed my ankle. Then just let me go… as quickly as the gesture had come. I nodded, but in the dark who knew if he saw.
Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. BANG.
Exposed and hesitant, I stepped into the center of the foyer. The strings were getting louder from upstairs so there was only so much time. Dodging any pointed furniture and watching for any debris on the tile floor I edged my way closer to the window. It was just planks of wood covering the light. All I had to do was rip one away. That would be enough.
Anchoring my fingers around the edge of the board, I pulled.
And it didn’t budge.
“You are not strong enough for that, Love.” My heart stilled. At the top of the stair, his shape was clear. Skinny like a scarecrow and his silhouette edged like barbed wire, a shadow moved taking one leisurely step after another easing his descent down. Splinters hooked into my fingers the harder I struggled and the music, despite my rush, became deceptively slow. Mellow even. Nice, soothing…
His hand was at my shoulder in barely any time at all. With almost no effort, he turned me around. In that little glint of light his fangs seemed almost beautiful. But then again all vampires were beautiful. And humans couldn’t help but be entranced by pretty things. But the wound on my shoulder put me in no mood for pretty.
Just revenge.
At the opposite end of the room, Dmitri ripped off a board from a different window and the sun came streaming in. The music hitched as the vampire hissed and with sudden, brutal clarity the world slowed into focus again. I stabbed the monster through the heart.
Then the music finally stopped.
Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.
There was sunlight streaming in. Groggily, I opened my eyes to the window.
Bang. Bang. Bang-
With a thump my alarm abruptly went silent. I placed my phone back on the end table and sat up slowly. It was morning… one day over and another beginning. I threw the covers off of me, and then cringed.
“My shoulder…” I massaged it, squeezing the muscle to relieve some of the tension but not even that made all the pain go away. Rolling my neck, I blinked still not quite awake. “Must have slept funny… what was I dreaming…?”
But for the life of me, I couldn’t remember any of it at all.
