As a young girl and into my twenties, I read voraciously. Two of my favorites back then were Stephen King and Dean Koontz, and each of those dudes wrote a book that scared me more than I thought could even be possible from words on a page.
For Koontz, it was The Watcher, when the dog spelled out “The Outsider is here” with Scrabble letters – it was 2am, I was about 15, and I closed the book and nearly threw it across the room. My heart was pounding. It was dark outside. My dog couldn’t spell out words to alert me of The Outsider’s presence. Oh boy.
For King, it was The Mist, which appeared in one of his fabulous collections. Completely freaked me out. It’s a brutal, horrific story, there is no “feel-good” ending, no solid answers. Just gut-wrenching horror. Still, it’s crafted in King’s often eloquent words, and I read it, anyhow.
I’d never seen the movie, not until last night.
Sewing meditation is not relaxing and therapeutic when people are being ripped to shreds before my eyes. Note to me: No horror movies when trying to be calm and contemplative!
On the plus side, I now have 10 out of 28 panels done. I sent an email off to Mom last night… quite the missive at 2010 words… and I have no idea what to expect in reply. I was thoroughly honest and told her precisely what I was thinking. Given her potential Borderline Personality, I genuinely cannot predict what her response will be. It probably won’t be pleasant.
Still, I’ll keep working on the quilt, and on my side of the equation.