The Halloween Contest

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Happy October to you!!!

I promised a blog post for the Halloween Story contest and here it is!  This was a really cool contest, I had entries from not only facebook, but also twitter and instagram! Way cool! AND here’s a picture of the prizes

flying monkey zombie by Kim Sofia Red Sugar Skull by Kim Sofia Blue Sugar Skull

 

HERE’S what you came for! The stories! Enjoy!

Mad CroScientist

When I was not so tired at night,
the overwhelming feeling was fright.
For in the darkness while awake,
my whole tiny body would really quake.

In my room, I was surely not alone
Because silence wasn’t quite the tone.
In fact I’d hear the scraping of claws
while the evil seeped from dresser drawers.

Gathering under my bed like a liquidy ooze
It must have assumed I was taking a snooze.
But my eyes were wide open in that dark
Searching for the thing that would tear me apart.

Wanting and not wanting to catch a sliver of sight
of the thing so it could kill me quickly with fright
rather than drag it all out slow
because that wouldn’t be a good way to go.

Somehow, someway I’d give up the vigil
giving in to slumber while awaiting the first nibble.
I’d wake to find that the monster’s roars
had merely been my sister’s snores.

Fatima Saysell

I wake up all in a sweat, heart pounding, breathless and a sick feeling in my stomach. I
wonder if I have finally caught the stomach bug that seems to be doing the rounds at
work. I lie in bed for a bit longer than usual waiting for this nausea to disappear and for
my heart to return to its regular beat. I am not sure how long it takes, but eventually I
force myself out of bed and into the shower, hoping to resume normality and face the new
day ahead.
I take no joy in breakfast. The cup of black coffee that usually restores me back to life
after a long night’s sleep barely reaches my senses and the buttered toast with marmalade
is left untouched on the breakfast bar. Refusing to give in to this sick feeling, I grab my
keys from the bowl in the hall and hurry to my car, before I change my mind. My hands
tremble as I make a feeble attempt to scrape the ice off the windscreen and I wonder at
the speed with which winter is approaching. It’s only late October, far too early for these
frosty mornings.
Somehow, I make my way to the office, hardly noticing other traffic at all. I can only
assume my brain’s gone into autopilot and drove me there. I have no recollection
whatsoever of how I got there, of seeing the usual sights: the houses, the roads, the
junctions, the traffic lights. Did I even come to a red light? Did I stop? I fear I might
have been caught on camera driving through one and that I might get penalised for this
infringement, if it ever happened at all. I just don’t recall.
At work, everything seems to be immersed in a haze. I rub my eyes in a desperate
attempt to bring my vision into focus, but it’s all in vane. I make my way to the toilets
and splash a generous amount of cold water onto my face hoping the shock will finally do
the trick. I look myself in the mirror and I recoil at the stranger staring right back at me.
This jaundiced, hollowed-out face with haunted, terrified eyes bears no resemble to what
should be myself.
Consumed by panic, I stumbled backwards and fall against the door. I turn around on my
knees and prop myself up, holding for dear life onto the door-handle. I wrestle with this
for a few seconds before I manage to open the door and run into the hall. There I find
Ben, my friend and colleague, who looks at me with fright before covering his mouth to
smother a scream. I know he’s seen what I’ve seen and rush to him for help, but I never
make it. My feet give way under my weight and my face hits the floor before I can reach
his extended arms, ready to hold me.
I don’t know what happens next, but I assume that Ben drove me home. All I know is
that I wake up again, a little light-headed but breathing more easily. I have no idea what
the time is, but it’s already dark outside, so it must be after 5pm this time of year. I reach
out and turn on my bedside table lamp and I see a glass of water by it and a note in Ben’s
writing. Sitting up, I read the note, confirming my assumptions and letting me know that
he stayed with me until he was satisfied I was out of danger. Apparently I do not have a
fever and a little bit of rest should restore me back to health, according to the doctor that
Ben called round. Smiling and feeling grateful for Ben’s concerns and thoughfulness, I
drink the water before trying to get up.
Slowly I swing my legs from under the covers and rest my feet on the rug by the bed,
taking my time to ensure my head is not spinning, trying to avoid a dizzy spell. Once I
feel happy my legs will support my body, I lean forwards and upwards, still holding to the
bed. And then, just as I stand up, I see it. The skeletal arm that reaches from under the
bed, covered in dry, parched yellow skin is still wearing the gold and diamond bracelet I
gave her on our wedding day. I notice her long finger nails, still varnished in bright,
glossy red, but now cracked, revealing the dirt underneath, fresh from the tomb where
she’s been lying for the last 6 months. I watch her fingers stretch and wind around my
left ankle. I pull and try to shake it away, but the grip tightens. A hollow scream dies in
my throat and I stare in horror as the other arms unfurls from under the bead, reaching
out for my free leg. I bend down and make futile attempts to wrestle this unearthly
phalanxes from my body, but in doing so, I lose my balance and find myself staring at two
cavernous hollows on what should have been my dear departed wife’s face, creeping out
of under our matrimonial bed. Terror overcomes me and I hear a demented, spine-chilling
scream that can only have come out of my mouth. Hysterical and in the grip of sheer
terror, I make a further attempt to shake myself free of this monstrosity, but only to feel
her hands creeping up my legs and to my hips. Taking hold, she pulls herself fully from
her mortal cradle and kneels next to me. I try desperately to find a glimmer of humanity
on what once was such a beautiful face, but what greets my eyes is a grotesque caricature
that bodes only death, a mock of the human soul. I attempt to move away, but my body
is unresponsive, frozen by dread and despair. I look into her pale, empty countenance
and have only a few seconds to take in my final breath before I see her mouth reaching
for mine with her hellish, sickening, deadly kiss.

Dreamcatcher Mealla

was awakened by an eerie sound coming from under my bed. I stood up on my bed in the complete darkness. My heart was pounding in my ears. The plan was to jump as far as I could from my bed. To my horror, it wasn’t far enough. The huge sharp fanged creature grabbed me by the feet and slowly dragged me underneath the floor of my bed and into his secret realm of no return

Ellen Hartmeijer

Bogey Nights
I was in the process of falling asleep next to my lover who was snoring softly, when suddenly he stopped snoring. My
subconscious thought nothing of it, he did that often and was quite healthy. Just sleeping very pleasantly. But as I
realized he had stopped breathing altogether, I opened my eyes in the near dark to look at him.
Trying to focus them, I noticed an eerie green light coming from the dark hill next to me in bed. As I tried to get a closer
look, I saw the light seemed to glow out of his nostrils. Wondering what on Earth that could be, I got a jolt and sat
upright, for the radio next to him on the night stand started to blast out the song “Boogey Nights”.
The green light became stronger and larger. Something, a blob, started to emerge from my lover’s nose. It crept up to
where I was sitting, wide awake now. The blob grew and grew until it became as large as a human being without actually
being human. Then I hear a light “plop” and the thing got loose from my lover’s nostrils. Who started snoring again,
softly, as if nothing had happened to him.
Before my eyes the blob started to take shape now. I couldn’t stop staring at it, in horror. I couldn’t move anymore, was
in shock. It sprouted something like limbs, four of them, and a kind of head. And still the radio was playing that song, it
was on repeat. The green blob altered its appearance until it resembled a man. Definitely a man. No mistake about that.
The green man shaped blob whispered, so softly that I could hardly make out the words. He told me he had been
watching me for years. From the inside. I had seen bits of him, he told me, in the form of little green spots in my lover’s
nose. He was lusting after me and had waited all this time, working on himself, so he could make me his. And he wanted
to make children with me. Lots and lots of children.
He pushed me back on the bed and tore away the duvet. He looked at my body, as I was lying naked before his green,
glowing eyes. With one of his smaller extensions -you could call it a finger- he traced my breasts, round and round. He
touched my nipples, one by one. They lived a life of their own and started to respond to his touch. His finger went down,
over my belly button, and further down, until he touched that sweet spot that also seemed to have its own mind. It felt
out of this world what he did there. Secrets unknown to anybody I was undergoing. Oh, my….
And then he mounted me. I was totally covered by his green body, which felt rather warm. He lifted his pelvis area and
entered me. And kept on entering me. He just didn’t stop. He disappeared in me and I felt very full and bloated. I could
see green light pulsating out of my every pore. And a feeling came over me when I saw that, I wanted nothing more than
to become such a green thing myself. Oh, and to have his children. That too.
As soon as I realized that that were the only things I would ever wish for, the radio stopped playing the repeat of Boogey
Nights and I started to change. I could feel it in my fingers. I could feel it in my toes. And, strangely enough, in my hair.
Slowly but surely I turned into a green blob. And I would never be alone again. My green lover would be with me for
ever and ever.
We are happily ever after. Together we are exploring the rest of mankind.
Whenever you have a green or yellow bogey in your nose, please treat it with the utmost respect. It’s probably a love
child we made.

 

Rebekah Clayton

I lay there, curled up, peeping from under the edge of the blanket, staring at the window. The light was changing and soon it would be time to sleep. I glanced over at Snuggles the bear, lying just out of my reach. That’s when I hear It move. I held still as I could, and tried to stay quiet, terrified It would hear me. I knew if It heard me It would try and find me. It was a frightful creature, with strangely smooth skin, small grasping hands and a voice that could make the most awful shrieks. And It was all that stood between me and Snuggles. The Big One called to It, and I heard mumbles in a wheedling tone “Awww, just 5 more minutes’ pleeeeeease.” I heard the Big One respond, and it must have been in the affirmative, because I heard It shifting around, trying to get comfortable again. The heinous sound of It’s snoring filled my ears, and I just wished It would get out of bed soon, before the sun rose too high and I would be unable to reach out and grab Snuggles before I had to sleep. Time ticked by ever slow, then I heard it again, the voice of the Big One calling out. It grumbled, then there was a thumping sound, I could see It’s feet hit the floor just past the edge of the blanket. It thumped out of the room, and I listened…….there is was, the sound of the rushing waters……more voices and then It came back grumbling. Drawers opened and slammed shut as It got dressed. It stormed out again and I took my chances, reaching out I grabbed Snuggles and settled in to rest.

Darkness settled over the world like a soft blanket, and I could hear the pouring water. It would soon be heading to bed, and it was coming up on the sad moment of Snuggles and I’s parting, at least for a little while. We had planned a tea party for later; we just had to wait for It to fall asleep. I slid Snuggles out from under my hidey spot. There would be a lot of fuss if It couldn’t find Snuggles (whom It falsely called “Teddy”). The wait felt like forever, but finally I heard the thumping of It and the Big One come in. There was the creaking of It trying to get comfy, then the ritual words of sleeping between them, and the Big One made the noises that I guess pass for music with them, and the lights went out. I waited, waited for It’s breathing to become slow and even, waited for sleep to overcome the monster on the bed. Soft snoring reached my ears. This was my moment, this was the time I had waited for. Slowly and with great care I reached up, searching. My touch was careful, here there is blanket, and there, the soft lump, I grasp it……..The screaming was awful! I had grabbed It’s arm!! I can hear the feet pounding into the room as I work to push myself back into the corner, to the darkest most out of the way place. There is shouting and inquiries if It is ok. It cries It’s awful cry and blubbers on about something grab It. I mumble to myself “Please tell It it was just a dream, everything is fine.” My prayers are answered, both Big Ones say these very words, but It wails on, begging them to check under the bed. My heart races, this is the moment I feared most. I will myself to become as small as I can, and statue still, in the darkest furthest corner. The light gets brighter as the blanket is pulled up, a large ugly face appears. I hold my breath and wait. The Big One makes a show of looking, but my luck holds, they don’t really believe I am down here. Soothing words are spoken, and the crying stops. The Big Ones leave and I sigh in relief. But I relaxed too soon. There is the soft thump of feet hitting the floor! I push myself further into my corner and wait. It’s face peers under the blanket, and a beam of light sweeps back and forth, invading my home. I now know how they got It to quiet so soon. This moment is more tense then the last. It is truly looking. My heart races as the beam of cruel light creeps closer and closer to me. The air splits with another ear shattering cry. It has seen me! It runs for the room and I scramble, my only hope is to make it to the closet before they get back. I slide into the toy box, its cramped, but my only hope. I hear them come back, It is wailing and trying to describe me, I notice It’s added un-n eed details, making the works of my lovely scales, and adding more tentacles then I have. Evil little brat. I am safe here, and settle in to wait out the rest of the night, and dread making my way across the sunlit floor the next day. Snuggles and I will have to wait for our tea party.

Obskura Aruksbo

Sam had been unusually calm this week. For an 8 year old kid with ADHD he was doing really good. Though it seemed he was calmer than usual he had mentioned his mother a few times too many and needed a distraction. His dad was really proud of him and decided to take him to the fair.At the fair they enjoyed the rides and had some greasy and sweet snacks. The smells and sounds were incredible yet oddly, the extra stimulation did not cause his attention to wander. It was great progress without a change of medication and yet.. strange.A large bear stumbled into their path almost in a dreamy slow-motion dance and sang, “Everywhere I go, people call me Sammy, Everywhere I go people call me Sammy.”
“What a coincidence! Sam’s father said , “Hey Sam.”
“Yeah?”
“Everywhere he goes.. people call him Sammy.” Sam had his deceased mother’s eyes and they were already laughing before you could hear him.When they got home Sam went to his room while his Dad opened a beer and prepared his clothes for tomorrow’s day at the meeting. It was incredible, It was like Sam was cured. His behavior had improved 100% over the last week. He could not wait to tell his doctor.

Sam came into his room and said , “Dad… I love you.”
“Aww Your a good kid Sammy.. I love you too.. so what’s up?”
“There’s somebody under my bed.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“No, Dad I’m not.”
“Ok let’s go check it out.

Sammy went back to his room with his dad and pointed at the bed. Sam’s Dad looked under and indeed there was someone there, but the smell of rot told him something was wrong. The plastic bag on his head made it more wrong. The smell was intense as Sam’s dad moved the small corpse out from under the bed. It was Sam and he was dead at least a week. The father looked around instantly confused and grief stricken. The Sam who walked with him back to the room was nowhere to be seen…

@tim_chiwowhua

I jammed the worn keys from my pocket into the lock and exhaled with relief as I was greeted by the familiar smell of old oak floors and candles. My old house creaked with pleasure upon my arrival and before I knew, I was sprawled out on my bed. Parents were due back in 3 hours. I decided to make the most of it. But I never got the chance.
Sleep was enveloping me when a door slammed, shaking me back to reality. Great. My parents were back. Jumping off my bed I hurried downstairs. But the house was empty. I returned to my room, confused.
A brief minute later, another door slammed, followed by my window being forced open. I grabbed onto the window and tried to yank it shut but something was tugging it the other way. Leaning back, I used all my body weight to oppose the force, and finally the window flew shut, causing me to fall back onto the floor.
I lay there, dazed and slowly looked round the room. My attention was drawn to under my bed. I could’ve sworn that I’d seen something move. Then again it could’ve been from the fall. I studied the dark gap under my bed as I recovered but my heart immediately leapt when I noticed claw marks on the floor. I backed away from the bed and stumbled my way to the door.
On my way down the stairs I heard footsteps coming from behind me and I started sprinting. The steps kept getting louder. Wheezing with the little breath I had, I glanced over my shoulder. Nothing. But the steps were getting closer. I reached the bottom of the stairs and took a turn into the kitchen where I’d escape through the garden door. Grabbing the handle and fumbling with the keys I struggled to open the door. The keys wouldn’t turn. The same clicking sound was getting me nowhere. The steps were nearing me. Letting out a weak whimper, I fell to the floor covering my eyes. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t breathe. I focused on my pulse and tried to block out the fear. The footsteps were right in front of me, I braced myself. The steps stopped. All was silent except for my pulse.
Nothing happened but I could feel its presence. Lifting my head from my knees, I looked up. There was nothing there. Getting up, I was startled when the door handle moved down from the weight of my hand and the door opened. Confused, I walked out into the overgrown garden. I reassured myself that it must have been from the fall earlier.
Looking round the garden I tried to calm down. I needed to pull myself together. Determined I made my way to the door again. I was about to step into the house when the door shut in my face. Grabbing the handle I used all my force to try and reopen it. It was no use.
Starting to panic, I ran from the door. I frantically tried to think of a way to get into the house. I grabbed a stone and lifted it into the air, readying myself to hurl it at my bedroom window. I froze when I saw the yellow eyes peering down at me. Instinct took over and my window was no more. I started to climb up the vines on the wall, ready to face whatever awaited me.
The vines shook under my weight. I was too scared to breathe. I was relieved as I felt the wood of my windowsill but the feeling subsided quickly and was replaced by a sharp pain in my other hand which now had a shard of glass in it. Painfully, I lifted myself over the windowsill.
My room was eerie. I started to walk towards the bed but my attention was drawn to the other side of the room where I could see the glow from a lone candle up against the wall. As I got closer I saw that my wall had been vandalised by scratches. I placed my hand on the wall and ran it over the claw indentations. Some were deeper than the others. I traced my finger through the deeper marks which resembled letters.
I tried to decipher the etchings; D-O-N-T L-O-O-K. My heart was hammering in my chest. Don’t look where?
I examined all areas of my room with only the candle to go by and night had fallen, shrouding everything in darkness. Picking up the candle, I started my search. I found nothing but darkness and silence. There was one place I hadn’t checked – Under my bed.
I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Why was I able to look into a dark cupboard but not under the bed?
Standing 2m from my bed, I gently crouched down to peer under. Darkness and more darkness. Black, more black, yellow eyes. There they were again. So all the stories about monsters under beds weren’t just tales. I started to shake. I was petrified but yet something was drawing me towards the bed. The eyes got closer and closer as I walked, trance-like towards the bed. By the bed I was summoned to bend down to get a close look at these eyes. Crouching down, I forced my eyes shut.
I stayed crouched for a few minutes, scared of what I’d see when I’d open my eyes. Very slowly, I opened them. Once again, nothing. It couldn’t have disappeared. I stuck my hand under and felt around to investigate. My fingers ran over the scratch marks which I’d seen earlier and then touched something cold. It felt like a piece of metal. I dragged it out and laid it in my lap. I looked at it and my heart immediately stopped.
In my lap was a mirror and looking up at me was my reflection, and a pair of yellow eyes.

Jack Frost

All was quiet in the childrens room. The toys all in place, the curtains drawn and the darkness silently enveloping the room with its blanket of darkness as nothing was awake and all was well. An unremarkable night by all accounts until the light started.

Underneath one of the beds, a blue square of light started to slowly rise. The colors getting slowly richer and deeper as the flicker in the darkness grew more intense. Something wanted into this world that was not of it!

A small grey gnarled hand popped up, followed by a grunt! Then another hand slowly appeared by the other one with another audible grunt of disapproval from the attached body. Then a nose! Between the 2 hands a big grey nose with flaring little nostrils appeared! And it stopped…. and started twitching much like a dogs would when sniffing the air to find the scent of lost prey or whence trying to find its way home. This is when the rest of the head popped up! Big round eyes full of life, and a pomp tuft of grey hair on on the top of his head a big childish grin on the face appeared!

Adar had finally made it!

Adar was from the netherworld, from another level of the abyss. Connected to our plane of existence but unbelieved by most. In his years for his race, Adar was merely a child! He was an adolescent of about 14 years of age, and this was his first big chance! His first big adventure at being “a boogeyman”!

His father had told him it was time whether he liked it or not, to take his proper role in the abyss and to become a boogeyman of the 10th realm to the children. That was his job and no son and spawn of Thakirs was not going to become a proper upstanding ghoul of the 10th realm! Not his son! Unfortunately for him, his sons head was full more of mischief and curiosity then it was filled with dreams of horrifying and terrifying children, but that was alright, he would set his son on the right course and he would take his rightful place in the 10th realm!

With a little wiggle and grunt, Adar managed to pull himself out of from under the bed! All 4 feet of him! He was short and a bit pudgy and out of shape! As he finally pulled himself out he flopped on his back panting and wiped sweat from his brow! “Phew!” How embarrassing it would’ve been if he couldn’t even get out from under the bed he imagined to himself!
Adar finally sat up and looked around at his new surroundings! This was nothing like home! Home was molten rock and red burnt landscape with cave hovels, but this place! This place had all shapes and sizes and manner of things everywhere! Adar barely knew where to start! At this point he had completely forgotten that he had been sent here as a right of passage to scare children!

The first thing that caught Adars attention was at the foot of the bed, some light. Wide eyed and carefully and trying to be as quiet as he could Adar made a few steps to the end of the bed and looked up. There was a box, and it had little grey dots buzzing around on it and it was making a slight hissing noise! How interesting! The box had a little knob on the front with symbols he had never seen before, and it seemed a brownish color from what he could tell in the dark. Adar was completely fascinated by this! He had never seen light out of a box before!

With a slight grunt and a wiggle Adar reached up, tongue sticking out of his mouth in concentration as he reached for the boxes little knob! This was just to fascinating to pass up!He reached for the little knob on the box and lightly put his fingers on it feeling the round shape of it. It felt oddly cold but exciting! What happens next? With anticipation of a child he wiggledthe knob to the right. A Flash of brilliant light happened and other things appeared on the box!People were now on the box and moving and saying things! This completely took Adar bysurprise! By the gods! What was this? Adar stood there with his mouth wide-open in amazementas people move around on the screen and talked! They were trapped inside this box! Theyseem to be trying to talk to each other or him, he could not tell. Maybe they were trying to askfor his help to get out?
“Amgar tes nouch?!” Adar said to the people in the box. He was trying to help or at leastunderstand what was going on! At this point being so amazed at people trapped inside this boxand what seemed like another room or universe to him Adar stumbled back and plopped on hisbottom at the base of the bed behind him in sheer amazement!This is when he started to hear a low audible growl…
Returning to his senses and remembering where he was Adar slowly turned towards the base ofthe bed a little bit confused and afraid but excited all at the same time to see what the noise wasand where it was coming from! He stood up and peered over the base of the bed and lookingback at him was a big wet black nose and ears covered in fur! “Whoof!” Immediately followed bya big wet tongue that slurped up the entire length of Adar’s face! Adar went reeling backwardshalf in fright and half in amazement to the side of the room and crashed into more things he didnot recognize! “Shut up Sparky and go back to bed!” Came a little voice from the same bed thatthe big furry thing with a wet tongue was on!
Adar was starting to realize that he was more scared than the people he had come to scare.After taking a few seconds to come to his senses Adar realized with relief that the furry demonwas not pursuing him across the room! He let out an audible “whew!” And wiped hisBrow with relief!
Okay! Time to get serious he thought to himself! His father and the rest of his clan wereexpecting him to become a standup citizen and bogeyman and he did not want to let his fatherdown! With that thought firmly in his head Adar grabbed his smog skin trousers, pulled them upand got a little determined look on his face and started marching back towards the beds!As determined as he was he was also just as equally determined to avoid the furry Demon withbad breath! He wasn’t particularly fond of it because he wasn’t sure what it would do so hedecided to pick the other bed in the room!
Walking up slowly to the side of the bed he saw a little person sleeping away. This personappeared to have the color of pink on their clothes and longer hair than the other person in theother bed with the furry demon! Carefully Adar started to climb onto the bed and get ready tomake his best scary face!

“BLAGGA BOOGA DARGOOIE!!!” Adar yelped out at the being in the bed!”Go away Chris we are supposed to be sleeping! Mom and dad are going to be really mad atus!” The high-pitched voice squealed and giggled as Veronica turned over in her bed to seewhat was going on!

As Veronica turned over to see what was going on she was confused! She heard a great littleyell and a commotion in the dark as she saw a figure going to reeling back in the darkness asher cat Castro lunged into the air swatting and batting at something!
Oh god’s not again! Adar thought!
As the cat and small figure rolled off the bed onto the side it into the toys she was hearingterrified little screams coming from whatever her cat was attacking!
“Castro! Leave him alone!”
Veronica hopped off her bed and pulled her cat off the little person in the dark in her room! Atthis point Chris had gotten out of bed as well! With all the commotion and the cat and hissingand the crashing of toys he was just as confused as to what was going on!
“Veronica what is going on?” “I don’t know! Castro is going crazy and something is over here! Ithought it was you! Playing a trick!”
Veronica turned on the light in the bedroom! What they saw next they were not prepared for…A little gray figure only about 3 or 4 feet tall sitting against the wall with his head in his handssobbing!
Adar had had enough! He didn’t want to scare anyone! This was becoming the worst night of hislife! All he wanted to do was make his father proud!
“What is it?!” Chris exclaimed!” “I’m not sure but he looks like he’s hurt!” Veronica said back!Gently and cautiously the five and six-year-old walked over to the little grey figure sobbing at theside of the wall. “Are you okay?” Said Veronica.
” Kerga dem corgo” came the reply with a sniffle.
Adar looked up with at them with big tears in his eyes and a look of remorse. Getting up andringing his hands together he looked down at the ground and in his own language hadapologized.
I’m going to tell mom!” Chris said! “No don’t! Look at him! I think he’s just scared and hurt asmuch as we are!” Veronica said to her brother!

Veronica took Adar’s hand in hers and led him towards her bed and wiped away his tears, and Adar began to smile as he wiped his nose with his arm and realized that he was doing what he actually liked to do, make friends! Not scare them!

Chris came over and sat down and tussled Adars hair a bit. The children being so young were more fascinated then scared of this thing they had never seen before and he didn’t seem threatening or trying to hurt them.

When Sparky came over Adar sucked in a gulp of air! Oh no!… Sparky came over and licked his face again and sat there with his tag wagging at full speed side to side! Even Castro came over and sat in Adars lap and Veronica wiped away the last of his tears and they all sat there beginning to smile and laugh.

Adar was so happy! But he realized with a start, what is he going to do?! He didn’t scare anyone and his father and the rest of the clan were expecting that of him!

He hopped off the bed and motioned for Veronica and Chris to look underneath.

“Oh my God theirs light under the bed Chris!”

Quickly Adar pulled her away from the light, and he looked at them and pointed at the light and made a scary face and squealed and screamed and pointed at the children! Then he pointed at himself “Grr!”

“I think he wants us to act scared or scream or something?” Chris said!

Excited Adar tugged his hand! That was it! Maybe they understood after all!

With everyone under the bed and there legs sprouting out from under the bed Adar indicated for the children to start screaming and yelling into the light square! As they did he banged some toys on his head and went “Grr!!!! Yarabaloo har grier!!!! Grr! Booga booga booga!”

Down below the echos of screams and Adars yelling could be heard in the 10th realm and his father looked up at the portal in approval and pride! His son had done it!

The children after this episode plopped back onto the floor and bed and giggled a bit as they found this all fun screaming and yelling while trying not to giggle into this blue bright light with their new friend!

Adar, took their hands and in complimentary fashion to his people, kissed their belly buttons once each and blew a fart noise on Veronica’s tummy and burst out in laughter! They all had a great laugh!

From that night on, once a year on Halloween night Adar would return to the children and Sparky and Castro to visit with his friends and roam the streets with them from house to house, laughing and eating candy and fooling his dad into thinking that each year he terrorized the same children with great pride!

So on Halloween night if light appears under your bed or at your closet, before you get scared, whisper into the darkness “Adar?” and you might just hear a giggle and make a friend instead.

I loved all the stories, I really did. I have no words to tell you how very cool it is for such great people to write stories like these to try to win a creation. ♥ The winners of the contest are:

 

1st Place: Obskura Aruksbo  His story about the son being dead under the bed was SO CREEPY!

2nd Place: @tim_chiwowa (instagram)  She was so scared, but strangely drawn to see the creepy eyes under the bed, and the were HERS!

3rd  Place: Ellen Hartmeijer   Bogey Nights made me giggle for several minutes, just loved it!!!

I hope you enjoyed reading the stories, I absolutely did! Stay tuned for the next contest!!!

Keep it creepy!!!

A friend from Horror Homework was stalking me…

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Hello lovelies…

lego zombie outbreak man and Kim's sticks and strings

So, just a quick note this week. Nothing crazy going on at work, though my schedule for the rest of the month is Wednesday, Saturday, Sunday…not my favorite, but, well… it’s only for the rest of March…

My next blog post will be about my current faery, she kind of deserves her own post. Look for that next week.

A couple weeks ago I realized I had a fan at  HorrorHomework.com. My facebook page posts were getting share by someone from there every now and again, and suddenly that picture went to thousands of views, and sometimes dozens of shares…

Last week I get a message from my facebook friend Larry, saying he was a fan of mine, and the one sharing my work on Horror Homework’s page, and that he’d like to interview me! I said yes, and he said he’d get back to me after doing some research. He got back to me with some questions, and I let him choose the pictures he wanted to use. So I will leave you with a link to his article on me, I love all the creations he chose!

http://horrorhomework.com/blog/2014/03/crocheted-horror-creations-from-kim-sofia/

See you next week with a post about Redbud, the First Bloom Faery.

Keep it Creepy!

Crochet and work, not all that interesting…

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I  realized it was about time to add another installment of my weird life in, so here I am.

Still haven’t hired anyone at work to take the place of the old guy. I saw him last week, he says he’s up and getting better, just didn’t think he needed to work anymore, too… He IS like 83, so good on him. he can go home and hang out.  Now I won’t have to regularly apologize for someone weekly, which is lovely.  Last week I worked Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, which wouldn’t normally be terrible, but I do prefer to work  Monday, Wednesday, Friday.  I’m  SUCH a creature of habit.  Really.  I’m also a pretty big introvert, so I also like to be able to count on my “alone time” or “home time” as being at a certain time, so I know when I can re-charge.  So having a pretty set schedule makes it easier.  This week I asked to have a day off in the middle of my work days, so I’m working Thursday, Friday, and Sunday. The Saturday off will be nice, AND Sunday we close at 3 pm, which is usually when everything starts to slow down for the day anyway.  I really don’t dislike my job, I just wish that people didn’t feel the need to tell me “they whys” of their lives. If you can’t pay your bill now, just say that. I don’t need to know why. Just ask for how long you’ve got to pay it, how much the bill will be by then, and we’ll end our discussion, you having NOT divulged too much info, and me not feeling like I know waaaay too much private shit about a perfect stranger.  If you need a storage unit, cool, let’s talk about the size, and you can tell me whether you want one or not, I DON’T want to know about how several people in your family have had illnesses and are in smaller places and have give you their furniture and now you’ve got to deal with it, and your kids and your husband and your sister’s cheating boyfriend… Seriously, I get to hear all this crap!  Sadly, because there is pertinent information in their stories, lost jobs, incomes, people in the families who are, say, unscrupulous, I have to pay attention,  and add stuff into their files so that everyone with account access has the same information… And some of our customers come with a new story each time they see/call us, all prepped and ready, like they’ve got  to unload it and we’re good enough.  One lady came in and asked where my co-worker was, she was having a bad day, and my co-worker always listened… I told her we’re down one person, so we’re split up, and kept typing. I was NOT going to be this lady’s therapist.  I asked her if there was any part of her account I could help her with, she said no.  I then told her that I was going to get back to the certified mail, so I could make sure it went out for the day, and that she should have a really nice day.  She looked a bit confused, but left. Huzzah!  When I work every other day, and then have 2 off, these expulsions of personal crap don’t seem to bother me as much, I get one day of too much info, and then one day to myself, it purges the system of all that nicely. I really can’t wait to go back to my regular schedule.

The upside of lots of days off together is time to stretch out chores, and I get to string together some creating time, which is cool.  I am currently working on a faerie for the lovely De’Anna.  She gave me some pictures she liked parts of, and told me she loved pink, and that’s all the constraints, yay! So here’s what I’ve got so far…

ImageImage

When I was creating her body, I was looking at faery pictures, but when I want to create what she is the faery of, I start looking for items, elements in nature.  The super pale pink her skin reminded me of those first flowers you see in trees at the end of winter, beginning of spring. The trees are bare, the wood is dark, everything is dead. But then, there’s this pink bud on the tree… then a few…  Then suddenly the tree is bursting with pink.  I decided she’s the First Bloom Faery.  She goes around, spreading her magic right about the time that winter is nearly done, making way for all the lovely first-blooms of spring.  The Redbud tree is one of the first trees to bloom each year, and I decided that would be her name.

Redbud Flowers redbud-blossoms-spring-13933851

I am completely enjoying making this spawn.  Her body type is a bit different than my usual work, and she’s not a monster, which is also fun.  I’m finding I even like pink some now…  After Redbud is finished, I have a quick zombie cat to make, and then I think I’m going to work on a few things that have been rattling around in my head for a bit…

Well now, that’s pretty much it… Nothing spectacular going on, though I do seem to have a burst of ideas scratching around I’d like to try to create…which means I’ll need to get back to creating. I’ve also begun thinking about some things I’m going to create for near easter, and international yarn-bomb day, June 7, 2014 will come quicker than I plan, I just know it.  So, well, that’s about that.

Keep it creepy fiends!!!

A Quieter Week…

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Hello Lovelies!

This week was quieter than last… I wasn’t bothered by much, not too indignant about anything in particular… probably for the best… I prefer not to be too up in arms about stuff so very often, it takes away from the creativity…

Work is the usual.  We DO have auction coming up this week, so I not only get the calls from people trying to figure out if they can get their stuff out of the auction (there are lots of calls from people saying they have __ amount of money, will that be enough? There is usually a notation in the file as to what we would take… I don’t do well with these calls, and in that, I really mean, I don’t like to take those calls.  I can give them the amount of money the owner will take as long as they come up with it 30 minutes before the auction happens, but the stories, the occasional voice hitches,  always weigh heavy, and are often difficult to end.  I also get calls from potential buyers of the unit property– the auction company we use has a website, and they put up a picture of the front of the storage unit, so people can see a bit of what’s inside.  But people call, sometimes a handful, sometimes up to a dozen a day, asking if I can give them detailed information about what’s in the unit, how many units are going up for sale, how big the units are.   I think the auction process is my least favorite part of the operation.  There are some of the units that are up for auction that I don’t feel quite as badly about going up for sale… the customer took off and didn’t give us any forwarding info, maybe the person was a lot to deal with and often lied or took advantage of the services… but there are a few of them I genuinely feel terribly about… the ones who can’t seem to keep up on their bills because life is hard right now… Yes, auctions are probably my least favorite part of the business, though necessary.

The other thing is there is a rent increase, per the owner.  The owner was looking at the books, and our rates were lower than those in the surrounding area… no good, increases this year.  Luckily , my boss found ways to only increase rents about $10-$20,  but as the letters started going out– people have a month notice, the calls about why is the rent increasing, what if I don’t want to pay that…  All I could do is tell them it’s the owner’s final decision, and give them the latest date that they could move their stuff out with no penalty. Such is work…

Zombie Lucy is coming along. Here are some updated pictures. I’m kind of stuck on her clothes, but hopefully will get some inspiration this weekend. ALSO, I have Zombie Ricky to work on, so even if I don’t get any ideas about Lucy’s clothes, Ricky can come to life, as it were…

Zombie Lucy's bra, Kim's Sticks and Strings     Lucy's bra, Kim's Sticks and Strings

Image2753     Zombie Lucy Kim's Sticks and Strings

Whatta rack!

I’m also going to try to work on her shoes this weekend–I’m going to give polymer clay shoes a go…wish me luck.

AND before I forget, the lovely and very cool Jess from Knot By Gran’ma put up an interview of little ol me in her blog…she makes monsters too, you should check her out.

http://knotbygranma.com/2014/01/30/the-fabulous-kim-sophia-of-kims-sticks-and-strings/

February is Women in Horror Month, and I’m quite sorry I’m not as prepared with lots of links and things that you can go check out, but I’m going to be. I’d like to say this next week’s blogs will have some authors, movies, and art you can check out, at least some.  It could be a month long thing.   Hey, my friend Rebecca Besser is an author, giving away 3 selections until February 4th, so if you read this before then, here’s her blog link, you can go find them

http://blog.rebeccabesser.com/

I’ve read some of her work, LOVE it and actually picked up one of the free ones, which I will read and review–please, if you read a book, especially an independent author, review it!!!  It helps SO much!!!

Alrighty then. That’s about my week. It’s Saturday morning right now, I should probably eat something and get my day started… some chores and errands to do, then maybe come back and put on a horror flick and start Zombie Ricky.

Keep it creepy!!! ❤

Just another week… some work, some rant…

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Hello dear ones! 

Brainy by Kim's Sticks and Strings

Last week I was finishing Mikey the ninja turtle. He’s all done, and a few days in the mail already–He’s on his way to Ontario, Canada, so he takes a bit of time. Here he is if you hadn’t seen him.

mike the ninja turtle by kim's sticks and strings

I’ve started Zombie Lucille Ball and there will be a Zombie Ricky Ricardo.  I’ve been daydreaming about this order for a few weeks.  Jill is cool enough to give me lots of freedom in making them. She didn’t even tell me what age, or what they should wear… which, I might add, is amazing!  She’s tall, 9″ tall so far without hair and shoes… Did I tell you I’m going to make shoes? Not crochet shoes. she’s Lucille Ball!  I’m going to attempt polymer clay shoes…crazy, yes, I know.  It could go well, they could just fall apart…both have happened in my head already, so I’m prepared for either…

Have had a few new ideas for upcoming spawn. I can’t do anything about them for a couple months. which is probably good. Some of the ideas need some mulling around…  I really need to figure out a way to wake up and be  “ready to work.” I could totally use a few 10-12 hour creating sessions.  That’s not really something that I get too often, but it could be nice.

♥♥♥♥

This part of my blog has strong opinions, some swearing, and a naked zombie at the end. Not safe for work, whiny people who don’t like strong language, or for those Pattern-Please bitches…

So, I know I’ve written about this before, but I’ve seen it happen lately, and it still gets me all crazed.   It’s the Pattern-Please Princesses again… That’s their new name. And Princess isn’t a compliment…she’s a sort of useless, overentitled good-for-nothing.    For you who aren’t hookers, Pattern-Please Princesses are the ones whose comment on a picture of a lovely creation that has been crocheted, or knitted, is “Pattern please,” like that makes their harpy like shrieks better. I’d like to smack them.

You are a hooker, and you have designed something SOOOO wonderful. It’s truly exactly how you envisioned it.  You put up a picture of your creation, a piece of your soul.  And some idiot comes along with “Pattern please.”  Yes, they deserved to be slapped in the face.

I don’t create patterns, I don’t work from patterns (except for socks and gloves, but then they’re patterns where I choose the yarn and needles, make a gauge swatch, and measure the hands or feet–very personal items, made for a specific person).  I realize that’s not really the norm. I don’t like patterns for most things… to me, it’s like using someone else’s words to tell my story, someone else’s skills to create MY vision.  But some hookers, knitters too I imagine, see something lovely, cute, amazing, and then instead of FIRST complimenting the artist on how much work went into it, what a wonderful creation it is, just want the instructions for themselves…ugh, they annoy me so.

Last weekend I was looking at micro-crochet to share in a community I help admin, and I saw some very amazing little creatures.  I found them on flickr, and was looking through the pictures, when I saw them… the Pattern Please Princesses.  On one picture in particular, there were 3 of these shrews, not one of them told the artist anything about how lovely, how much work went into creating them, not one bit about how they were envious of her skill. Just pattern please, and when the artist said she didn’t create patterns, they harassed her. “Why not” “When will it be up?” “Can’t you just write down what you did really quick”  One bitch kept on, asking “Can’t you just go look at it and write down some numbers for me? It can’t be that hard to count.”  She, in particular,  deserves a double slap.  What. The. Hell.

If you are one of these princesses, my opinion of you is amazingly low.  You must not know what it takes to have an idea and create a thing from just your idea.  I’m not talking about the folks who use patterns for most everything they create, I’m talking about the jerks who think everything should be a pattern, given away for free, so that you can create  everything you want.  They kind of remind me of Gollum from Lord of the Rings… I imagine them hording patterns in some filing system, stroking their preciouses.

This is in red, for effect.  If you are a Pattern Please Princess, yes, I do want to slap you, you deserve it.  You CAN change.  IF YOU NEED A PATTERN, and I use need loosely, because well, that’s just a crock of shit, FOR THE LOVE OF ALL YOU FIND HOLY, COMPLIMENT THE ARTIST!!!!!!  Your creation is lovely/amazing/so very cute! I’ve not seen anything I like so much/It’s just the most wonderful _______/ You are so very talented/It must have taken you so much focus to create the great detail/The stitching is so lovely… You get the idea.  Compliment the work you like so much. It doesn’t cost you anything, and obviously you think the creation is wonderful, you want to make one. THEN, after a few sentences of praise, then, you may ask if there might be a pattern.  IF THERE IS NOT, OR WON’T BE, DROP IT. Keeping at it makes people embarassed for you, you look like some jerk who just won’t move on. Really.  I’ve deleted comments because I couldn’t look at the begging anymore.  It’s desperate. And shallow.  If there’s no pattern and there won’t be, say thank you and move along.

I will always wonder about the real lives of Pattern Please Princesses. Are they so very annoying in the real world? How did they get to be that way?  Why didn’t someone just tear into them just once?  How were they never set straight by someone in their lives, a family member, a “friend,” a boss? How did they just not get told “not everything is for you.”  I probably seem a bit sensitive about it, but after coming across about a dozen creations where the Princesses just hounded the artist without properly praising first, I began to just feel so ashamed of those other hookers.  So much so I had to go looking at other art, just to find a picture of something that the comments didn’t say “tell me how you made that exactly.”

I actually don’t belong to many crochet groups, communities, because I can’t stand the Princesses, and they are in every group, looking for patterns, wanting to know why some won’t share.  One Princess told me that in order to join their community I had to share a pattern of my own creation, for free.  My exact words were “Fuck your community.”   A bit harsh, maybe.  But I’m not a Princess, and couldn’t possibly hang out with them. I just wanted her to know I don’t belong with them.  I am so. much. more than that.

So…that’s been my week. Finishing Mikey,  starting Zombie Lucy, being inspired to create some new things, being annoyed by Princesses.  Just another week…  Hopefully I’ll be able to show you  more of Lucy next time, right now she’s just a faceless zombie with underpants.

Zombie Lucy and my grinch by Kim's Sticks and Strings Zombie Lucy's pink undies, by Kim's Sticks and Strings

Have a good week, Keep it creepy!!!

My First Rant of the Year… You had to know there would be one…

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Hello dear ones!!! Trying to stay on schedule, write once a week…ish.  It’s THAT time again…time for a rant!!!

1bus

My friend T and I were talking and she mentioned that she’d been thinking about unfollowing some folks on Twitter; she followed them because they were crochet accounts, and suddenly one person is tweeting about being sick, how her head is all stopped up, and then talked about her mucus.  Another one is about how her kid is feeling.  Does anyone else find a few faults?  *looks at crowd to see some hands raised* Good, some of you get it off the bat, I’m glad of that.

Let me start off by saying if your business is that you have no arms and you knit with your feet even though you have arthritis and have to wash your feet and keep them soft so you can knit, and you’ve got 2 kids to keep up with, and you sell your creations, then all of that can go in your posts, on Facebook or Twitter.  That’s who you are.   Own it. If you say you’re an artist, but then all your posts stop being about your art, then the folks who followed you for your art your art could stop following you…you’re not holding up your end.

I know  folks get sick.  I understand that there are many people who are very sick, and many with long term illnesses.  I get, also, that folks like to share something about themselves, you know, give their business a  personal touch. That’s cool.   I tweet about loving coffee, horror flicks, warm weather, my husband and dogs…and if I’m feeling under the weather, I may tweet about it, though nothing too specific.  If I’ve followed you on Twitter because of your art (music, paintings, sculptures, drawing, you’re a writer), unless your next piece of art is about or uses your boogers, DON’T TWEET ABOUT IT!!!!!!!!!  Unless we’re friends somehow other than Twitter, that’s more than I want to know about you. I feel my life has been cheapened by reading tweets about your boogers.  I don’t even really want to hear about my husband’s mucus, much less that of a perfect stranger, who I followed because of their cool art, which is now not all that cool, because you burdened me with knowledge of a bodily secretions.  Thank you.

Even in a small, mostly online business, one must have a certain amount of professionalism.  On Facebook, lots of people, myself included, have a personal profile, and one for business.  That’s partly so that we can control who has access to our personal information.  I am a bit different on my personal page, than I am on my business page.  *whispered* I swear on my personal page, but try to conduct myself a bit more professionally on my business page.  I’m  more reserved on the yarny page.  I don’t act at my day job, as I do at home (I swear A LOT MORE at home). Would you want to walk into a store only to hear the shopkeepers talk about being sick, and going into detail about it?  Would you stay? Would you ask for the manager? Would you want to hear about their sickness daily?  Wouldn’t you feel like you know waaaaaaaay too much information about someone you just wanted to buy something from?

I do follow people who have kids. I don’t follow anyone BECAUSE OF their kids.  If your Twitter account is “Fiona’s Fancy Crochet,” chances are I’m following you because I want to know about your damn fancy crochet. I don’t want to know that your kid is sick or can’t sleep or is teething.  I’m not saying an occasional tweet about how you’re not sleeping because your child is having trouble or is sick or something, BUT if I follow fancy crochet, I want to know about fancy crochet.  If I follow Henry’s Horror Art, I want to see horror art, I don’t really want to know about your kid’s impetigo, colic,  or eating habits. Again, a post now and again, something not too personal, is ok.  Remember, someone could favorite a tweet daily, but chances are you’re still strangers, except you both like Cthulhu art or cooking, or sci-fi/fanstasy books.

This can all be solved by having a personal account  and a separate business account on Twitter.  You can say whatever you want on your own account, talk about your boogers and  your kid’s weird skin patch, and having to pick up hairballs in the night from your cat.  On your business page, you should tweet about things being rough last night so you didn’t get sleep, hopefully it will be a good day.  If you decide to keep just one account, less is more when it comes to talking about  your personal life.  Think about it this way:  When I see someone has followed me on Twitter, I immediately go to their page, I read their description and their most recent tweets, and that’s how I decide to follow or not.  If your description says you’re an artist, and your last week’s tweets are about your foot fungus, I won’t follow you. If you’re a writer, and you’ve got blinding migraines, that’s different, what’s going on with you affects your creative process. A hooker (crocheter), with arthritis, likewise, can tweet some about the pain. Don’t make the bulk of your posts about your illness though.  It can appear that you want people to follow you because of your illness.

I need to say, too, that the same goes for Facebook.  It doesn’t cost you anything to have a business page, fanpage, etc. Do not make perfect strangers who want to purchase jewelry from you wade through the posts about your ear wax, your kid’s homework, and why you had to shave the dog.  And again, you can lightly pepper your posts with bits about yourself.  On my facebook posts I talk about my dogs, occasionally about the husband, my love of horror flicks, my health, my job… But it’s gently sprinkled in.  People don’t ask me to make them a spawn because I have 2 dogs and like horror movies.  I will  admit to having unliked/unfollowed businesses whose posts began to always talk about their families… your business page should be for mostly business-related content.  Otherwise people have to start deciding whether, or when, following you is worth having to sift through the personal stuff… and sometimes, it’s not.

I am not in any way saying that it’s not ok to be a mom who works at home and talks about being a mom and about the business. I’m not saying that you can’t be someone with a long-term illness who creates wonderful art, and talks a lot about your illness.  I AM saying that there are people who won’t want to wade through THOSE posts to get to your art.  I’m not a parent, and am really not all that interested in the children of strangers, so I’d have to decide whether or not your art was cool enough to have to put up with posts about when your kid came home from preschool the other day… maybe, but maybe not.

And by the way… Let me preface this by saying that I am not one of those people who takes pictures of their food. I just don’t get it.  I may post about having a yummy meal, but not all that often.  The husband loves to take pictures of his food and post pictures, but he also likes to cook…I do not.  There are a lot of folks who do this, celebrities, chefs, foodies, average people… If you’re a chef, a baker, food critic… this is cool, and relevant.  You just went out for a sandwich and salad and want me to see it? WHY??? I don’t care.  I don’t care what celebrities, actors, directors, famous writers, politicians, bands, or presidents eat… not really.  And if you’re a business, NOT related to food in any way, I really don’t care much.  Yes, I do occasionally tweet or post about eating or drinking something particularly yummy, but it’s not the bulk of my content. I tweet about needing more coffee, something most artists mention… we like caffeine boosts, coffee, tea, soda… what have you.  But my business is not food related, so there’s not a really good reason for me to post about food. (If I found a frog in my salad though, I’d tweet the hell out of that with pictures…BECAUSE IT’S CREEPY!)

I check out which posts get more attention, what content people “like.”  It’s easier to check on your insights on Facebook than on Twitter and Google+, but I still do check on things.  I wonder how often people check on things like that, how often do you look at your posts and think “hmmm, I posted a picture of my art, and 49 people liked/favorited it, but I posted that my kid is sick and I’m tired of finding boogers on my pants, and only 2 people liked/favorited it, and I was unfollowed by 4 people.”  That would resonate with me.  If you have a business account, and there are posts which no one likes… maybe you should ask yourself what it is about that post that NO ONE LIKES,  and then don’t do that again.

So, what now?  You’ve read this, and gone back and looked at some of your posts, and realized that you’ve got lots of posts no one likes? No one likes  the ones about your kids? People don’t favorite tweets about the bedsores on your bum, even though you’re a bedridden artist? Change it… or don’t, up to you.  Just know that your content is how people judge whether they’re going to follow you.  I might just follow someone who’s an artist and a parent, and some tweets are about the kid, trying to keep up with a running kid and not being able to work as much as liked, with some posts about the art generously thrown in.  I would not follow an artist whose entire last page of tweets was about a child being sick.  That’s for your personal profile.  I’m no guru,  I have no specific idea what content is best for you.  I know what posts get the most attention for my page, and I am always trying new things to see what effect they have on the number of views… Your posts are the advertisement for your business if you don’t pay to promote them… Make them count FOR you, not AGAINST you.

So, go to your pages, your favorite artists, business people…look at their content, the posts that lots of people like.., and also, look at what has no likes, no favorites… think about why, it’s good to check out what’s doing well, and what’s not.  Remember that all this is just stuff that floats around in my brain, so maybe don’t take it deadly serious… But it probably couldn’t hurt to look at what you’re posting on behalf of your business… if it is too personal or not really business appropriate, you could be driving people, customers, away.

Keep it creepy!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hey Look! Another Post!

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Hello Lovelies!!!

So, the end of the year is here, we’re down to counting days or hours even before the end.  I’ve always liked New Year’s, endings, beginnings, old stuff is gone, we made it one more year!  I like to take stock of the year, so very much happens in one year’s time.

I never really like to think in terms of good year-bad year. Certainly some are better than others, some are smoother, uneventful, some are exciting, not always for the better…  But as I get older, I just like to look at what has happened, the good and the bad together. When you’re in the middle of the bad, it seems like forever, but looking back over the year…things are different.

This was a big year for me. I started this blog, got past, kind of, my hangups about not having anything to say that someone would read.  And look at me, some of you DO read what I write!  Kisses.  And I’ve tried to stay pseudo-regular with it, and will try to do so next year…YES, I will be continuing on next year!  I’m going to try to go back to a once a week posting, even if there’s “nothing” to post.  

I made a lot of bigger dolls this year too!  Medusa is 18″ long, Rachel is 12″ tall, and the Clay golem is 18″ tall.  There were a couple of 10″ Cthulhus, and Blue was more than 9″ tall, as well.

Image1037     Image1377     clay golem

Image697     Image2553

I stretched myself,  always trying to make things look more like the image in my head, or the image I’m working from.  Calvin and Hobbes made me work.  They’re so popular, they have a specific look, so they couldn’t just be a blonde boy in a red shirt with a tiger, they had to look “right.”  Samara, too, was a very intense doll to make. I sewed all her wee hairs in by hand, AND I really did want her to look as creepy and close to Samara Morgan as I could get her.

Calvin and Hobbes by Kim's Sticks and Strings     1SamaraMorgan

I learned to  do a thread joint on bear legs, and  have come up with my own skull pattern that I like to use, very good for sugar skulls.

AshCareBear,Kim's Sticks and Strings     skullgrinchcollage

There were some less than wonderful things. It took me half the year to find a job. I DO really like my job, so I’m pretty ok with it all now, but it did take forever, it seemed.  My husband did go to the hospital for about a week for depression and anxiety.  It seems like forever ago, but it was at the end of September. He’s taking his meds, and while they may not be perfect, they’re going pretty well for him right now.  I’m so very happy things weren’t worse for him, or that he didn’t really need to be gone for any longer, I was a bit of a wreck while he was gone. Onward.

I’m so very very glad for all the connections I’ve made over the last year. I have made some very wonderful, supportive friends, you know who you are, and I just adore knowing you! In a perfect world we could all get together somehow, but I appreciate you sharing your lives with me.  I have also become closer to some friends who I’d made before 2013, people who helped talk me through the bad times, and made me smile and laugh all year long. I feel so very lucky to know such wonderful people. You are my friends, my support, comic relief, my muses, the thoughtful people who know just what to say, people who make me think, and dream.  I thank you all.

So, what do I want for this year?   I’m still more than happy to help people realize their dreams, sometimes, very creepy, in yarn. I’m hoping to learn to build in some time to create some dolls I’ve been thinking about, and to make some more sugar skulls.

I’m hoping the job continues to be as cool and fun as it is now. I, and the husband, would like for him to have a job; he’s had some very promising interviews, so he’s just playing the waiting game.

I will work being more mindful, on self-acceptance, and remembering to cherish my loved ones every day, our time here is so fleeting.

I will get back to reading more regularly– I read every day I was off the last week, it was fantastic!  And there will be more contests this year with spawn for the prize! Maybe not story contests, I’d like to try to switch it up!!!  OH, and YARNBOMBING!!!  Yes, more of that!!!

So here’s a picture of the last spawn I will have finished for 2013.  I wanted to create something I’d not had an order for, just start making and see what happened. I started this faery… he was very therapeutic, and so much fun. More things like this will happen in the new year.  So here is Gorman, the Water Sprite, my last finished spawn for the year. He’s already got a  home, I’m so happy, and will be making his way there starting New Year’s Eve.

waterspritecollage

Keep it creepy, my lovelies!!!