When my grandchildren were small, we sometimes entertained each other by making up stories. Such was the case one cold, winter day several years back.
“Let’s tell scary stories,” I said.
“OK,” they agreed. I went first. I thought I was doing pretty well, building up to an exciting and shivery climax.
“Mem, that’s not scary,” one of them said.
“Wait, wait!” I protested. “I haven’t gotten to the really spooky part yet.”
Then when my story had finished, they decided it would qualify as a spine-tingler and it was someone else’s turn. They both added a great deal to their stories with movement, striding or jumping across the room and enthusiastic hand and arm gestures. By the time we had all told a story or two, we had a case of the delicious shivers and were ready for a cup of cocoa. It was a warm finish to a cold winter day.
I wonder if any of that would inspire them to also write.
Well, I think they’ve tried their hand at writing.