Good afternoon my darklings.  I know I’m later than usual but I had things to take care of and I’m here now.  I woke up this morning to a Nightmare on Elm Street.  Not a bad way to start the day.  But I wondered, not for the first time, about my love for horror movies.  From the time I was little until this point, and I can’t imagine it ever ending, ghost stories, haunted houses, disturbing books and anything that would scare me have drawn me to them.  Just like being a writer has always been what I’ve been drawn to express myself, and freaky, weird imagination.

I actually remember when my brother an aunt rented the VHS version of the original Nightmare and I begged them to let me watch it too but of course they wouldn’t let me because I was too young.  But here I am now, married to a man whose gave me the last Krueger, a horror movie Icon.  And I’m a writer.  So was it meant to be?  All of this?  Can your destined path be set for you when you’re so young?  I think it was.

Maybe my path was just set on a long road of nightmarish, dark fantasy beginnings that are waiting for their endings so I can start the path again, only a little further down the way this time.

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