I have a confession. I believe in all urban myths and the one that frightens me the most, is the one with the ending line, Humans can lick too. (If you’ve never heard this one you can find out about it here, but I warn you, this is pee-in-your-pants scary.) When I sleep at night, I refuse to let my arm stretch out over the side of the bed just in case, although the frame of my bed is only an inch off the floor and no human could fit underneath it. I don’t even own a dog, so someone licking my hand would elicit a high-pitched scream, but the story scares me nonetheless and I imagine all sorts of worst case scenarios where I unwilling confront an intruder/boogeyman. All this happens in the comforting presence of my husband so I can handle the fear factor.

However, this week, Easy E (my husband) left for a four night business trip to sunny rainy  southern California and today he arrives home. I can admit that I am relieved as in R-E-L-I-E-V-E-D! It’s not that I don’t miss him, I do, really I do and it’s not because he is such a great dad to our three kids, I miss his physical presence–his hulking muscular, two hundred and fifty pound form that can kick some serious bad guy butt, even imaginary ones. I will finally sleep peacefully tonight. No more imagining that I’ll look in the mirror and see someone, or glance out the window and see a dark human shadow, or that my stalker is standing in my bedroom watching me sleep. (The last one is real and is the scariest of all my fears.)

As a writer you need an overactive imagination, one that provides you with a bountiful supply of writing material–antagonist and protagonist, conflict and climax and all the elements of a beautiful story. HOWEVER, and yes I capitalized it for a reason, when you are the sole protector of the homestead and you can hardly lift your one and half-year old child who barely weighs twenty pounds. Well your imagination might be more of a hindrance than a blessing.

What scares you?

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