Tag: fiction

The Dangers of Writing Like You Don’t Read

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

There’s a special kind of writing slump that sneaks up on people if they’re not careful. It’s sometimes not the one where you’ve got zero motivation, but the one where your words feel… stale. The same old metaphors. The same style. The same syntax. It becomes a formula of sorts and doesn’t feel fresh. It gets old.

I think a big culprit behind this is writing without reading.

When we only pour out words but never take any in, our writing starts to echo itself. It’s like talking to yourself in a room with no one else around. Eventually, you’ll run out of new things to say.

Reading gives life to your work. It stretches your brain into shapes you wouldn’t find on your own. You pick up little tricks without even realizing it. This could be a fun phrase, a surprising metaphor, or a way to pace a scene. Sometimes it’s not even about the writing itself but about remembering why you wanted to write in the first place. Books can also remind us of the wonder that made us pull out a pen or our laptop in the first place.

I didn’t read much throughout college and good gracious, it showed in my writing. Everything I wrote felt…Safe. The echo chamber became comfortable. Because, you see, a crappy side effect of not reading is sometimes not even REALIZING the echo chamber your writing is becoming until you sit down with a fresh pair of eyes and you find your own writing boring! It’s bland. It’s missing something. But when I began to pick up reading again (post college), I found writing easier and the quality better.

So if you’re in a slump, maybe the best cure isn’t another thousand words of pushing through. Maybe it’s picking up something off your shelf, letting someone else’s voice break through the echo chamber, and remembering that writing is, at its core, a conversation between you, your imagination, your inspiration, and your readers. And you can’t hold up your end of the conversation if you’re not listening, too.

Anyways, happy Tuesday, and thanks for dropping by and reading my little mini-rant.

K byeeee

Writing When You Don’t Believe in the Ending (Yet)

~ Brooke F. ~ 1 Comment

When I was in middle school, I had no qualms about just opening a Word doc and shooting from the hip. Who cares, right?? I’m in middle school. But as an adult, I can tell you a completely different story…

My tune has definitely since changed. As self-doubt and perfectionism have become a more prevalent issue in my writing life, I have found that writing when you know where you’re headed is not always easy. Even when you’ve got the finish line in sight, writing WITH a plan is hard enough.

But writing when you don’t believe in the ending? When you’re not even sure if the ending is good, or if the whole thing is worth finishing? That can be a little petrifying or even a slog depending on your personality. That’s like trudging through fog with no map and hoping you’re still on track.

And honestly, that’s where a lot of us live, I think.

We start a project full of enthusiasm, picturing readers crying or laughing at the perfect final scene. Then somewhere around the middle, the plot feels flat, the characters stop talking to us, and we start wondering if we’ve just wasted months of our life. Or maybe we planned the ending and Oh Shoot! It doesn’t feel like it fits anymore! What now???

My advice?

1. Remind yourself you don’t have to believe in it to keep going

You can keep typing even while thinking, This is probably terrible. You can finish a chapter while doubting whether it will all make sense in the end. Doubt doesn’t have to be a stop sign. Resign it to some annoying background noise, and you may even forget about it. Try and loosen up a bit and actually enjoy this whole writing ordeal; otherwise, it may be worth abandoning altogether if you cannot find a shred of enjoyment in it. Just don’t be so hard on yourself, and maybe attempt to write through the doubt.

2. Lower the bar when you’re in the fog

If you can’t see the grand, perfect ending right now, fine. Just write the next part. You’re not committing to keeping it forever. You’re committing to getting it down on the freaking page. Sometimes a clunky placeholder scene is the bridge to the better one you’ll write later. This is the whole “one foot in front of the other” tactic and it works rather nice in my opinion.

3. Let the ending find you

The pressure to “have it all figured out” before you get there will kill your momentum. Sometimes you only discover the right ending after you’ve written the wrong one. Keep moving forward and trust that clarity comes from progress. I have often found that the right ending can come to me when I see how these characters have progressed and grown. I am better equipped by the end of the story to say “ahhh this feels right.”

4. Remember: every story feels worse in the middle

Middles are messy. You’re too close to see what’s working, and your brain is wired to spot flaws. But a finished draft, even a shaky one, can be fixed. An abandoned draft can’t. At the end, you can always edit but you cannot edit what isn’t even there!

5. Have something else that carries you through

Chances are, some redeeming elements about this story that made you start it in the first place, even if it wasn’t the ending itself. What are those elements? The characters? Your interesting or complex MC? The side romance you want to write? That scene in the middle where you reveal that plot twist? Maybe focus on that instead of the hazy or non-existent light at the end of the tunnel

In conclusion, I shall restate my hypothesis (just as my science teachers HAMMERED in my head): Write the next sentence. Then the next. Then keep going until you stumble right into the ending you didn’t see coming but are actually quite delighted with because it’s one that feels RIGHT.

Finding My Lazy Genre (And Escaping Reader’s Block with Cozy Mysteries)

~ Brooke F. ~ 4 Comments

Reader’s block hit me like a wet paper towel after college. Who knew years of reading ONLY for school and committing every braincell to your degree could burn you out on books??

I used to devour books as if they were my favorite dessert. But once I graduated high school, I’d open a book, read two paragraphs, and suddenly remember I needed to reorganize my closet or wanted to scroll on pinterested for an hour. I could not for the life of me focus.

Then, I cracked open a cozy mystery a month ago, and, just like that, I was back. Not back in an “I’m suddenly reading 700-page literary fiction before bed” way. No, I was back in the “I finished this paperback in two sittings with a latte and a blanket and now I want ten more just like it” kind of way.

It made me realize something: I’d finally found my lazy genre.

Now allow me to explain. A lazy genre isn’t a dig at the books, first off. It’s a term of endearment. It’s the genre you can slide into like sweatpants after a long day. The kind that requires zero brain gymnastics but still gives you all the serotonin of a well-timed twist or a slow-burn romance. For some people, that’s YA fantasy with dragons and chosen ones. For others, it’s angsty romance with dramatic rainstorms and not-so-conveniently timed confessions (hey, Jane Austin readers. How ya doing?)

For me I had just found out that It’s cozy mysteries with predictable plots, modern settings, and characters who are funny without being emotionally exhausting. Like, please don’t give me a main character going through too much. I’m tired. I want her to bake muffins, accidentally find a dead body, and flirt with the local cop. Is that so much to ask?

There’s something comforting in knowing exactly what’s going to happen: someone dies, someone investigates, someone has a quirky pet, and justice is served along with with tea and cookies. It’s like watching reruns of your favorite show. You’re not surprised, but you are deeply content.

So here’s a thought for you all that I wanted to share: If you’ve been struggling to get back into reading, maybe you don’t need a “better” book. Maybe you just need your lazy genre. The one that goes down easy. The one that feels like a warm cup of Jo for your overstimulated brain.

Find it. Embrace it. Stack your nightstand with it.

And if anyone judges your reading choices, remind them that reading is reading. Whether it’s Tolstoy or a sassy amateur sleuth named Mabel who keeps stumbling over corpses in her idyllic coastal town.

Writing Advice I’d Give to My 15-Year-Old Fanfiction-creating Self

~ Brooke F. ~ 2 Comments

AKA: Yes, You Should Write That Cringy Avatar Fanfic

Oh, 15-year-old me. Curled up on the family desktop after school, typing out wildly dramatic plotlines where a girl finds out she has the powers to control all 4 natural elements who is definitely just me in disguise. You were doing your best. And honestly? You were onto something.

There are so many things I’d tell you if I could. Not because you were doing it all wrong but because I now understand just how right it was, even when it felt like complete and utter nonsense at the time. And just plain cringy to high school me. Forgive her sneering at your work.

So here it is. A letter of sorts. From the grown-up you, to the one who stayed up too late posting on fanfiction forums and thinking no one would ever take her seriously:

1. Don’t Delete Anything. Seriously.
I know. You want to. It feels so cringe. You reread your old stories and immediately want to toss your laptop into the nearest volcano. Resist the urge.

Every awkward sentence and every overly dramatic plot twist is proof you are a writer. You were writing! You were learning! You were creating! That “bad” writing? That’s the compost that future stories grow in. Keep the files. Keep the notebooks. Keep the Wattpad drafts. One day, you’ll look back and smile and maybe even reuse a line or a character name you forgot you loved.

2. Don’t Be So Self-Conscious
No one is watching you as closely as you think. You’re allowed to be messy, weird, experimental, emotional. That’s the whole point. It’s not a performance. It’s an outlet, a joy, a spark. Let yourself be fully into it, cringe and all.

And no, writing doesn’t have to become your job for it to be “real.” It can be a hobby. Or A side hustle. Or a comfort you come back to on the hard days.

3. Writing Is Still Hard But Worth It
Spoiler alert: You don’t magically “arrive.” Writing as an adult still feels hard sometimes. There are days you’ll doubt your talent, feel stuck, get jealous of someone else’s book deal. But the satisfaction of weaving a story is still present. The joy of a sentence that feels perfect or a character who surprises you? Still as sweet. You didn’t grow out of it. You grew with it.

4. Fanfiction Is Valid.
Fanfic taught you how to write dialogue, how to build tension, how to stick with and finish things. You learned pacing from serialized chapters, developed character arcs by borrowing from established ones, and stayed consistent because people in the comments said “update soon!” That’s gold.

So yes. Write the cringy Avatar the Last Airbender fanfic. Make it 100K words if you want. You’re learning how to tell stories.

5. Keep the Dream but Let It Change
You still dream of writing full time. And that dream is still alive, still beautiful and even still something worth chasing. But your life isn’t on pause just because it hasn’t happened yet. Every piece you write now—every blog post, poem, unfinished story is part of a rich, creative life. You’re doing it already, me. You’re already a writer.

So to my 15-year-old fanfiction self:
You didn’t waste your time.
You weren’t silly (ok maybe a little but it’s ok and acceptable).

Keep going. And yes. Your OC definitely was the Avatar and was so totally unique. She saved the world too. The readers voted (me). It’s canon now.

How to Mourn that Story you never Finished

~ Brooke F. ~ 2 Comments

Some stories don’t make it. I’m sure you’re already WELL aware of that if you’re a writer.
Not because they weren’t good, or because you didn’t care enough, but because something shifted. You outgrew it. Life got busy. The plot unraveled. Or maybe the fire that lit it up when you first started just… dimmed. It doesn’t interest you anymore.

And now it sits in your drafts folder, collecting dust or …uh… pixels.

If that’s where you’re at: I see you.

So here’s a little post I’ve been wanting to write for awhile on mourning the death of your story and what you can learn from the whole thing. Very similar to my post on knowing when to quit on a story, this post will focus on the after and the questions you can critically ask so you can grow and learn. Otherwise, the experience can be discouraging and it feels like you just dumped your time into a project that never showed tangible results. So let’s try and avoid that. 🙂

Read It With Curiosity, Not Criticism

When you’re ready, go back and reread the draft. Not to fix it, but to understand it.

Ask yourself some qestions such as:

  • What parts still make you feel something?
  • What parts confused you or dragged?
  • Where were you trying too hard to be someone you’re not as a writer?

Remember: you wrote that version of the story with the skills and heart you had then. That’s a snapshot of a creative moment in time. It deserves to live on. Please, please, please don’t delete no matter how cringe and blackmail worthy this piece might be.

Look for the Seeds You Can Replant Elsewhere

Even if the story didn’t grow into what you imagined, that doesn’t mean it was wasted. Often, buried in “dead” drafts are pieces worth saving:

  • A compelling side character
  • A setting that still sparkles in your mind
  • A line of dialogue that makes you sit up and whisper, “That’s it.”

You might not resurrect the whole story but you can borrow from its bones. Let it compost into something new.

Track Your Creative Patterns

Unfinished stories are often full of clues about yourself. It holds your interests, your hang-ups, and what you feel is important.

Try this:

  • Make a list of your abandoned stories.
  • Jot down what each one was trying to explore (themes, feelings, questions).
  • See what repeats.

You might realize you always write about lonely girls and overgrown gardens. Or that your stories die when the middle turns into a slog. That kind of self-awareness? Invaluable. Plus you can use it to inform your creative decisions moving forward. Try and place what you wanted from this draft.

Final Thought:

It’s okay if the ending never got written. And who knows? One day you might go back. Maybe not to fix it, but to pick up where you left off. Or not. Either way, the story gave you something.

List of Plot Twists

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

Few things are more satisfying in a story than a well-executed plot twist. The kind that makes readers gasp, flip back a few pages, or text their friends in all caps. A great twist doesn’t just shock. When done CORRECTLY it deepens the story, redefines characters, or forces the audience to see events in a new light. But how do you craft a twist that doesn’t feel forced, cheap, or predictable?

The key to a successful plot twist is planting subtle clues throughout your story while keeping the big reveal hidden until just the right moment. Below is a list of plot twists you can use, adapt, or mix into your writing to keep readers on their toes. I will reiterate though that plot twists need to be BUILT into a story. They’re not supposed to be cheap punches to invoke a response from your reader. Pacing is everything. Clues are everything. Hints are everything. The devil is literally in the details! Anyways, enough precursors and disclaimers. I trust you with my list of plot-twists. (I’m assuming you’re a big kid writer who knows exactly what you’re doing! Don’t all writers know exactly what they’re doing ahaha….)

Classic Identity Twists

  • The protagonist is actually the villain but doesn’t realize it.
  • A trusted ally was working against the hero all along.
  • The villain is secretly related to the protagonist.
  • The protagonist’s memories have been altered or erased.
  • The main character isn’t who they think they are—a clone, an imposter, or someone else entirely.

Revelations About the Past

  • A seemingly minor character was the true mastermind behind everything.
  • A past event didn’t happen the way everyone remembers.
  • The protagonist was unknowingly responsible for a tragedy.
  • The villain is actually seeking revenge for something the hero did.
  • The hero was lied to about their origins or purpose.

Unexpected Alliances & Betrayals

  • The hero and villain must work together to stop a greater threat.
  • A sworn enemy turns out to be a long-lost friend.
  • The mentor figure betrays the protagonist at a crucial moment.
  • A character thought to be dead is alive—and has switched sides.
  • The sidekick was the real hero all along.

Reality-Shifting Twists

  • Everything was a simulation, test, or dream—but the consequences are real.
  • The story is actually taking place in a different time period or world than initially believed.
  • The narrator has been unreliable, misleading the audience the whole time.
  • Magic or supernatural elements exist in what was thought to be a realistic setting.
  • The protagonist is not the first version of themselves—they’ve been replaced, cloned, or resurrected before.

Unexpected Outcomes

  • The villain wins, and the hero must find a way to live with it.
  • The big battle never happens because the conflict was a misunderstanding.
  • The supposed chosen one is a fraud—or the real chosen one is someone else.
  • The hero gets what they wanted but realizes it wasn’t what they needed.
  • The villain was never actually evil—just misunderstood or manipulated.

Final Thoughts

And here is the conclusion where I restate my hypothesis-er, intro I mean. A great plot twist isn’t just about shocking your readers. It should enhance the story, add emotional weight, and feel earned. By layering foreshadowing and character depth, you can craft twists that will surprise without feeling random. Do you have a favorite plot twist from a book or movie? Or have you written one you’re especially proud of? Share it in the comments! I love reading everything everyone has to share.

K byeeeee!

Character Quirks: They Make a Difference

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

Creating a compelling character isn’t just about giving them a name and a goal to achieve. It’s also about making them feel real to your reader. And what makes someone feel real? The little things. The devil’s in the details.

The way they tap their fingers when they’re nervous, the fact that they always hum while making coffee, or their unshakable belief that their lucky socks will change their fate. These quirks and habits add layers of depth and relatability, making characters leap off the page and stick in readers’ minds.

If you’re looking to add some personality to your cast, here’s a list of quirks and habits you can use or adapt to fit your story. Whether you’re writing a hero, a villain, or someone caught in between, the right little detail can make all the difference.

Common Quirks & Habits for Your Characters

Nervous Habits

  • Biting nails or lips
  • Tapping their foot incessantly
  • Playing with hair or twisting rings
  • Cracking knuckles, neck, or back
  • Tugging at sleeves or clothing
  • Fidgeting with small objects (coins, pens, paperclips)
  • Avoiding eye contact when lying

Endearing or Quirky Traits

  • Always carrying a lucky coin, stone, or charm
  • Collecting something odd (bottle caps, pressed flowers, old receipts)
  • Talking to plants or inanimate objects
  • Inventing their own slang or catchphrases
  • Always misquoting famous sayings
  • Assigning personalities to everyday items
  • Laughing at their own jokes (even the bad ones)

Food & Drink Habits

  • Always ordering the same thing at a restaurant
  • Hating foods for strange reasons (e.g., “Bananas feel too smug”)
  • Stirring their coffee exactly three times before drinking
  • Eating one thing at a time, never mixing food on their plate
  • Refusing to drink from a cup with a crack, no matter how small
  • Preferring drinks at specific temperatures (lukewarm coffee, ice-cold soup)

Daily Rituals & Superstitions

  • Checking their horoscope religiously
  • Only walking on certain-colored tiles
  • Always taking the same route, even if it’s inconvenient
  • Refusing to use red ink because “it’s bad luck”
  • Making a wish on every stray eyelash
  • Never leaving home without their signature accessory

Work & Study Quirks

  • Always writing in a certain color of ink
  • Organizing their desk in a very specific way
  • Talking aloud while working through problems
  • Writing notes on their hands, even when they have paper
  • Needing total silence—or total chaos—to focus
  • Humming or tapping when deep in thought

Broadly, Why Quirks Matter

A well-placed quirk can serve multiple storytelling purposes. It can:

  • Reinforce personality traits (A meticulous scientist always straightens picture frames)
  • Hint at backstory (A soldier always sits with their back to a wall)
  • Create humor (A character refuses to eat food that touches on their plate)
  • Build relationships (Two characters bond over their shared habit of doodling on receipts)

Quirks make characters feel human and help readers form emotional connections. A perfectly polished, flaw-free character is forgettable. A character who double-checks that they locked the door three times? That’s someone we recognize. We look at the character and see ourselves, friends, and family members.

Final Thoughts

Character quirks are the seasoning that makes a good character great. The right mix of habits, tics, and eccentricities can turn a flat character into a vivid one. Feel free to share your favorite character quirks and ideas in the comments below. I always love reading comments!

Masterlist of Endings

~ Brooke F. ~ 2 Comments

As writers, we put a lot of effort into crafting compelling beginnings and exciting middles, but endings? Endings are what stick with readers long after they close the book. A great ending can leave them satisfied, stunned, or even haunted. But not every story needs to wrap up with a neat little bow and a happily ever after. Sometimes, the most powerful endings are the ones that subvert expectations, introduce a twist, or leave a lingering sense of mystery.

Whether you’re writing a novel, short story, or screenplay, here’s a list of unique ways to end your story that go beyond the traditional happy ending. Feel free to use, tweak, or combine these ideas to create your own memorable conclusion to the tale!

Bittersweet & Tragic Endings

  • The hero wins but loses their memories.
  • The villain is defeated, but the hero becomes what they once fought against.
  • The protagonist gets everything they wanted but realizes it doesn’t make them happy.
  • The hero survives but is the only one left.
  • The love interest is saved, but they no longer love the protagonist.
  • The hero sacrifices themselves, but their sacrifice is forgotten.
  • The protagonist escapes, but their home is lost forever.
  • The prophecy is fulfilled, but it didn’t mean what they thought.

Open & Ambiguous Endings

  • The hero wins, but the story hints that the villain may return.
  • A character vanishes without explanation—did they run, die, or something else?
  • The story ends mid-action, leaving the outcome uncertain.
  • The protagonist achieves their goal, but a single clue suggests something was missed.
  • The final line contradicts what the reader believed was true.
  • The hero is given a choice, but the story ends before they make it.

Twist Endings

  • The villain was never real; it was all in the hero’s mind.
  • The “good guys” were actually the bad guys all along.
  • The entire story was a test, simulation, or dream—but the protagonist isn’t sure what’s real anymore.
  • The hero realizes they were the villain in someone else’s story.
  • The protagonist wins, but only because the villain let them.
  • Everything resets, trapping the characters in a loop.

Unsettling or Dark Endings

  • The villain wins, and no one knows the truth.
  • The hero stops the big bad, but a greater threat emerges.
  • The protagonist thought they escaped—only to find they’re still trapped.
  • The hero saves the day but has lost all sense of self.
  • The world is saved, but it’s unrecognizable.
  • The hero becomes immortal and must watch everyone they love fade away.
  • The story ends with a minor, eerie detail that suggests something is very wrong.

My Dream Life as an Author (Manifesting This Immediately) ✨📖

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

Some people dream of red carpets and bestseller lists and their characters being played by Blake Lively (okay so maybe only a few people dream of this…). My dream however is that of a quiet cottage tucked deep in pine woods, where the only sounds are the clack of my typewriter, the occasional whinny of my horses (yes, I am a horse girl), and the soft rustle of the wind through the trees. The city? Overrated. New York? Absolutely not. Los Angeles? I shudder at the thought. No, I’m staying right here in the South, where the sweet tea flows (yuck. I actually can’t stand the stuff), the humidity ruins my hair, and the locals know how to tell a good story, true or not.

The Books: Where Agatha Christie Meets Dungeons & Dragons

If I could write anything, it would be the perfect blend of mystery and fantasy. Imagine a classic Agatha Christie whodunit, but with wizards, cursed artifacts, and a detective who might have to cast Detect Magic before finding the culprit. A world where taverns replace tea parlors, the suspects might be elves or shapeshifters, and the murderer was possibly a necromancer all along. Murder mysteries, but make them magical.

The Library: My Own Personal Wonderland

Now, my home wouldn’t just be any cottage. It would be the ultimate book lover’s retreat. It would be a place where the walls are lined with shelves, and books climb all the way up to the ceiling. A rolling ladder would be a necessity, obviously. There would be nooks for reading, armchairs worn in just the right way, and maybe even a secret passageway hidden behind one of the bookshelves… (see my previous post on my dream book nook.)

The Writing Process: Typewriters and Total Control

No laptops for me! Just the click-clack of a typewriter, because I’m dramatic like that. Would it be practical? Probably not. But would it make me feel like an eccentric genius author? Absolutely. My editor would have to deal with getting actual, physical pages, and I’d refuse to change my methods even as the world moved into holographic AI writing or whatever the future holds.

The Movies: Only Under My Watchful Eye 👀

Now, let’s be realistic here; eventually, someone would want to turn my books into movies. I would allow it… BUT ONLY IF I SUPERVISE. No sloppy adaptations, no weird modernized versions that miss the heart of the story. I’d be the author in the back of the studio, wrapped in my elegant trench coat, sipping coffee, and glaring at the scriptwriters over my glasses. My books, my rules.

The Style: Classy, Retro, Timeless

(And the delusion continues!)

Speaking of trench coats, my author persona would be expertly curated so maintain an air of mystery (to match my books). I’d dress like I stepped out of a vintage detective novel. Something Nancy Drew would approve of. Think elegant dresses, stylish coats, maybe a brooch or two. A little bit of film noir meets Southern charm, effortlessly timeless and full of mystique. When people met me, they’d instantly assume I had secrets because, honestly, what’s the fun in being an author if you don’t cultivate a little mystery?

The Travel: A World of Inspiration

Of course, I wouldn’t just stay in my little pinewood haven forever. I’d take grand trips around the world, collecting stories like a dragon hoarding treasure. A week in an old Scottish castle for ghost story inspiration? Done. A summer in Italy writing in a café? Yes, please. My passport would be well-used, but I’d always return home to my cottage, my books, and my horses.

This, my friends, is the dream. The author life I was meant to live. A life of stories, mystery, and just the right amount of eccentricity. One day, it’ll be real (or so I like to tell myself). Until then, I’ll keep writing (and waiting for Hollywood to beg me for adaptation rights). 😉

Your Turn! Share Your Dream Author Life ✨

Copy and paste this template, fill in your own answers, and let’s all daydream together!

🌲 Where do you live? (City penthouse? Cozy forest cabin? Haunted Victorian mansion?)

📚 What kind of books do you write? (Fantasy romance? Sci-fi thrillers? Poetry collections about moody cats?)

🖋 How do you write? (Typewriter? Quill pen by candlelight? Voice memos while pacing dramatically?)

🎬 Would you let Hollywood adapt your books? (If yes, under what conditions? If no, why the distrust? 👀)

🕶 What’s your author aesthetic? (Trench coats and mystery? Cozy sweaters and tea? Gothic elegance?)

✈️ Do you travel for inspiration? (Where are you going, and what stories will you bring back?)

Drop your answers in the comments or post your own version! 💫📖

Harvest’s End: A Little Autumn-y short story

~ Brooke F. ~ 6 Comments

I realize this isn’t the correct season to post this but I found it perusing my post archives and realized I never posted it. So, here’s a little bit of Halloween in March. Hope you enjoy! ❤

~*~

“Look, it’s a full moon tonight,” said Tim, holding the freshly carved pumpkin.

“Yep,” replied his sister, Emma. “It’s perfect for Halloween.”

Tim placed the pumpkin on the porch, the candlelight flickering through the carved eyes and mouth. He stepped back and admired his handiwork. The pumpkin looked alive, eager to be part of the night’s festivities.

“What should we name him?” asked Tim.

Emma examined the pumpkin’s toothy grin. “He looks like an Evan.”

Tim wrinkled his nose. “That’s too human.”

“Well, Jack is too cliché,” Emma sighed. “How about Casper? That sounds Halloween-y.”

“Casper was a ghost,” Tim objected. “This pumpkin is orange.”

The twins thought hard until Tim suggested, “What about Rusty?”

This satisfied them both. “Rust it is,” Emma conceded with a nod.

And so his name was Rusty. Rusty felt fortunate to have a name, unlike the smaller pumpkin stationed on the other side of the door, which had been carved by their parents. The twins didn’t even seem to notice the other pumpkin before going back inside to work on their Halloween costumes. It didn’t bother the other pumpkin; both knew they had a job to do.

As the evening fell, Rusty began to feel the warmth of the candle inside him. The flame grew stronger, casting eerie shadows across the porch. The nameless pumpkin had told him about the children dressed in costumes that would soon arrive, looking for treats. Rusty was ready to shine his light and help them find their way their way to the candy bowl.

The first group of trick-or-treaters appeared at the end of the driveway, their eyes lighting up at the sight of Rusty’s glow. They approached the porch, chattering amongst themselves. Rusty felt his heart swell with joy as they exclaimed over his grinning face. One little girl, dressed as a fairy, reached out to touch his carved cheek, her eyes wide as the warmth felt the candle’s warmth against her fingers.

“This one’s got a nice smile,” she told her mother before turning her attention to the selection of candy bars that was being offered. It would be the most important decision of the night after all.

The twins had gone all out with the decorations this year, with spider webs stretching from the porch railings and a scarecrow standing guard over the pumpkin duo. Rusty watched as the children made their selections from the candy bowl, comparing their choices to the others’. The nameless pumpkin was silent beside him, a comforting weight as the night grew darker. Rusty promised himself he’d remember this night forever.

But, like everything, Halloween came and went, and the night passed.

The trick-or-treaters had thinned out, leaving only the occasional straggler to knock on the door. Rusty felt the chill of the night as the candles inside them began to die out, leaving him in darkness. As the warmth of the flame disappeared, he felt strangely hollow, missing its warmth.

In the days that followed, Rusty noticed his smile wasn’t as bright anymore. The edges of his eyes began to sink, and his cheeks grew less plump. When the children passed by without a second glance, he felt a heaviness settle in his chest. He no longer had the joy of trick-or-treaters tromping by but now had to content himself with watching the twins leave for school. Quietly, Rusty hoped the twins would remember him and reignite his candle once more. They did not.

One morning, Rusty mustered the courage to ask the nameless pumpkin next to him, “Why am I changing?”

The nameless pumpkin looked at him with a knowing gaze. “It’s called ‘rotting,’ my friend,” he said gently.

“What’s rotting?”

The nameless pumpkin took a deep, slow breath, his expression calm and tone even. “It’s what happens to all of us after Halloween. We were picked from the patch, carved, and filled with light to bring joy to others. But now, our purpose is fading.”

Rusty’s heart sank. He didn’t want to fade. He enjoyed being the beacon on the porch, the focal point of the twins’ Halloween wonderland. “Can’t we do something to stop it?” he asked.

The nameless pumpkin’s wrinkled eyes looked sad. “This is the natural cycle of our existence. After we’ve served our purpose, we return to the earth. It’s the way of things.”

Rusty stared into the night, the flickering memory of his flame bright in his mind. But what happens after? Will anyone remember us?  The idea of disappearing into the ground frightened him, but each day, he could feel his form softening, his grin losing shape, and his light growing dimmer.

One evening, Emma came out to the porch with a sad look on her face. She picked up Rusty, examining him closely. “You’re not looking too good, buddy,” she said as she examined his softening smile and dark moldy spots. Tim joined her, and together they decided it was time to say goodbye to the pumpkins that had served their purpose and brought joy to many children.

They carried Rusty and his companion to the backyard, where they had a small compost pile, placing the two pumpkins gently onto the soft mound. “This is where we go when we’re done,” whispered the nameless pumpkin. “This is our graveyard.”

Rusty felt the cool earth beneath him, in stark contrast to the warmth of his candle—a memory now distant. He watched as the twins’ footsteps faded into the house, leaving him and the nameless pumpkin to the quiet night and the cold ground.

Days turned into weeks, and the porch grew quieter. The decorations were packed away, and the only visitors to the backyard were squirrels and birds. Rusty felt a strange kinship with his silent companion as they softened and shrank together. Just as he felt his form begin to disappear, the nameless pumpkin whispered, “Look.”

Beside him, a tiny sprout pushed its way through the soil, unfurling a pair of delicate green leaves. “We’re not gone. We’ve just changed. Our light has dimmed, but we’re giving way to life.”

Rusty stared at the sprout, a mix of confusion and wonder filling him. The idea of being part of something bigger brought him comfort. He watched the plant grow stronger, its green tendrils weaving through the remnants of their former selves.

As the days grew shorter and the air crisper, Rusty felt his body softening more, his shell collapsing inward. Yet, his friend’s words remained clear in his mind. “Even in our end, we are the beginning.”

Rusty felt his essence seeping into the soil. The thought didn’t scare him as much anymore. He surrendered to the earth at last, watching the fall leaves drift around him in a flurry of color. It was a peaceful end.

Winter turned to spring, bringing sunshine, birds, and blossoms.

One warm autumn afternoon, Tim and Emma found a tiny pumpkin sprout stretching up from their compost pile. Over the course of summer, this sprout grew into a small pumpkin plant, its vines stretching out, claiming the space that had once belonged to Rusty and the nameless pumpkin. By October, it bore small, round pumpkins—a miniature reflection of those before.

When Halloween came, the twins selected the largest pumpkin from the patch. “This one,” Tim said, holding it up. “Nice and plump.”

Emma nodded in agreement. They carried it inside and laid out their carving tools. That night, as they finished their work and placed a candle inside, the pumpkin’s grin grew wide as the flickering flame filled him with warmth. It was an almost familiar warmth.