Comments welcome. :)
Halloween 2011, a set on Flickr.
Being on a somewhat extreme budget this year, as well as not being Ye Olde Craft Goddess, I didn’t get to go all out like I wished to. However, I did make some few things that I liked. I will probably be taking this theme and expanding on it next year. There’s just something so completely freaky about a haunted children’s home. Enjoy this brief video and the photos of the house decorations. If my costume turns out like I hope, there will also be photos of it.
After a bit of thought, I’ve decided that while I cannot (yet!) afford to decorate my entire yard, there is no good reason not to do the front porch. I already have many of the components.
However, I am now at an impasse. I need about a ½ hour to an hour’s worth of creepy sound effects to pull this off. Keeping in mind that the theme is “Haunted Nursery/Daycare” – what are some sound effects/ideas that I can pull together?
Sounds I already plan on using:
- The Diddy Laugh
- An approaching thunderstorm
- Echoing crying sounds (adult)
- The ‘Blair Witch’ creepy-thumpy music/sound effect
- Loud knocking (as if on a door by a very large fist)
- Menacing whisper effects
- The ‘Tick Tock’ song from Doctor Who
- A little girl singing ‘The Itsy Bitsy Spider’
- Another girl asking if you want to have a tea party with her
All in all, its about six minutes worth of sound effects.
I know, right? Seems like it should be more. *SIGHS* At any rate – more ideas would be lovely.
I am going to have to come up with a rocking chair and talk the Girl into letting me maul some of her older baby-dolls.
I might also need one of those cauldrons that look – but actually *aren’t* – on fire. You know… to put the dismembered Barbies into.
Like you do.
I will post images and/or a video of everything once I get it all done.
All my life, I’ve had people tell me that I am a good writer. I’m not publishable, though. I hope to get there. I want to write stories that people choose to read. Part of the reason that I started this blog is to practice writing in a public forum. I aim to post at least a little something every day. Random mutterings, photos from my life, fiction, discussions. The idea of writing something, every day is mentioned in just about every writing textbook there is.
How does one get to Carnegie Hall?
Practice, practice, practice.
How does one get a book completed?
Practice, practice, practice.
It’s all part of the process.
To that end, I will be attempting flash fiction challenges from various places. I find flash fiction – stories of less than a thousand words (and usually far less) – more than a bit difficult. I like slathering on the words, extra butter and pass the nacho cheese. Paring a story down to it’s simplest form is torturous for me. But its a good pain. It forces me to choose my words with a bit more care. Flash fiction is prose’s version of poetry. You must say exactly what you mean.
Also, in my head flash fiction is, well…flash. Quickly written, barely edited. It is what pours out of you on a given subject. I suspect that that is my own bias and not necessarily true. But that is how I wrote the below piece. It actually took longer to choose the challenge than it did to write it.
Chuck Wendig of Terrible Minds puts out a fiction challenge on a very regular basis – so be prepared to see lots of fiction inspired by his insanity. For this one, I chose something from a past challenge. The due date is long past, but I liked the story seed.
Here’s the trick, though — it is such a potent subject, and yet I want you to increase its potency by compressing the story’s density like the aforementioned coal until a sharp and deadly diamond is formed.
Here are my 100(ish) words:
Carmen shouldered the bag as she left the hospital. As she passed him, she offered a vague smile to the security attendant. She’d read that people remembered a too friendly person far more. At her car, the phone in her pocket buzzed once. A minute later, as she pulled out of the lot, it buzzed once more and fell silent. Her hands clenched and then relaxed on the wheel. Over. It was over. He was dead. Relief slammed up her spine. She stopped on the bridge to look at the dark river. From her hand, the syringe tumbled down. It flashed once in the moonlight and then it was gone.