Writers take their gigs where they can get them. The author who created me doesn’t appear to have the time to write his own blog, so
what the heck, I’ll cover his posterior. Yep, Marty Pitchford here. I don’t know how I get myself into these positions. I try to do what is right and good and I end up in trouble somewhere. By the time this post if over, Mr. King will probably come and wipe my words away, replace them with his own, then scold me for stepping out of character. (Heh, heh, like that? Stepping out of character? … Oh well, blame it on him, it’s his blog, right?)
My thoughts still wander around the streets of this town, wending their way alongside my lovely daughter Annabelle. Halloween night, we went from house to house, monster to monster, jack-o-lantern to jack-o-lantern, searching out
the sweet riches that would pour forth from within each dwelling. I stood back at the road and watched as my precious little wizard rung doorbells, trick-or-treated in that soft voice, then engaged most with more than a simple thank you. One lady received a, “I love your decorations. Happy Halloween. Thank you.”
I smiled at her incredible innocence. That same innocence threatened by the callous, careless actions of my wife Jessica. Look her up here on this blog. Don’t let her looks fool you. She’s as frightening as anything you will find at night on Halloween. In fact, simply writing about her causes trepidation to ricochet throughout my nervous system. If you want to see for yourself, pre-order a copy of The Method Writers. That’s the book I reside in as Marty Pitchford.
Annabelle and I had to walk for miles and miles. We started at 6:30pm before the sun went down and returned home at 9:30pm. My feet hurt, I was hungry, I had to carry Anna for a few blocks because she was exhausted, but when she dumped her spoils on the table, all was well in the Pitchford family.
My next task was (and is) to keep my little girl from doubling over with candy-induced stomach cramps. I wouldn’t trade the grueling three hours we spent tromping the streets of Palm Coast for all the chocolate in Hershey, PA. I realized many times that night how absolutely rich I am to have such a tender and kind young daughter. I will protect her with my life.
And I will cherish our time together as pure gold.
Before I go, make sure you click on the book cover in the upper right hand corner of this blog. The Rogues Gallery Writers are giving away a free copy of their book, More Writing is Easy. It’s a simple PDF download, and hey, it’s free! Go grab a copy today. Also, click on this link and pledge a few bucks to our project The Method Writers on Kickstarter.com. We want badly to be able to fund a proper release for the book. Oh, by the way. If you see that scoundrel Michael Ray King, tell him to get back here and write his own blogs! I’m sick of covering his ass!
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