Writing a Horror Story — With No Zombies

My apologies but this week’s blog is being postponed until next week. My son is taking his high school entrance exams, so I’m helping him study for that. I’m also working on a short story in the horror genre which, surprisingly, has no Zombies.

Many of you know of my obsession with Zombies. Even before my ex snapped my spine, they scared me because, due to large breasts, I haven’t been able to comfortably run since I hit puberty. Now, with a snapped spine, even with medication, I’m in constant pain. Take away the meds and there’s the withdrawal, followed by even more pain. Which also brings us back to possible running. Even if my son and I found a nice group of people, I would simply be a drain on precious resources. I couldn’t go on runs, I can’t cook or clean… And so on. Which is why Zombies scare me more than anything.

With Samhain / Halloween coming up, I thought it would be a fun exercise to write about something scary without Zombies. According to my informal survey, clowns seem to be in the top two spots regardless of the age or gender of the person. (Oddly, my ex only made my list and my son’s list.)

Hopefully it will be finished by next Monday.

Blessed Be,

D. K. Stevens


Crochet: Not Just for Those Who Can’t Knit

Great Apps / Sites:

* Basic Stitches: Single; One and a Half; Double (two); Treble (Triple; 3):

Notes for Granny Stitch:

* A granny stich is used to make a square a bit bigger than your hand.

* Once you have enough squares, use the single stitch to connect them to create your blanket.

[The following instructions are taken directly from the awesome app, “DIY : Granny Square Crochet”]

Meeting My Characters


I was waiting in my pain doctors office when a beautiful girl sat next to me. She didn’t appear crippled.
Large brown eyes, skin that made her appear to have a slight tan, wavy dark hair falling to the middle of her back. Her figure was slender but had some curves in the right places —

“Are you thinking weird thoughts about me?” she whispered, leaning in towards me as if we were going to have a private conversation. “I’m Maria,” she added. “And I’m not. Not, um, crippled.”

Bonita popped into my head.

“We want you to write about us.”
I looked at her.

“It’s been years,” she continued, “You’ve got our family tree, births, deaths, even a map of the apartment I grew up in.”

I stared. Yes, I had a story in my head about a Maria and her family, but this was nuts.

Before I could do it, she reached over and pinched me. Hard. “See?” She smiled prettily. “I’m not a figment of your imagination.”

I rubbed the red mark. “Obviously not,” I muttered under my breath.

“Look, we’ve waited a long time. We haven’t read all of your notes — we don’t need the future,” she said, probably thinking of her maternal aunt who made a living telling people their future.

“But you need to get started or we’ll go to another writer,” she added.

“You can do that?” I asked; the red mark wasn’t going away.

“Of course! Well, maybe. Ok, maybe not,” she pouted.

A girl used to getting what she wanted, I thought.

“I’m getting to you,” I said.

She brightened. “Really? That’s great!”

“But it’s going to take some time,” I said.

She tried to hide her anger, “Look, all we ask is a post about each of us,” she gritted out through her teeth.

I didn’t remember she had a quick temper.

“Each of you! There are over thirty main characters,” I laughed.

“Thirty? Where’d — How can there be so many main characters?” I’d apparently caught her off guard. “Ok, maybe they’re not all main. A lot are minor.”

“Better get to work then,” and she pinched my arm again for good measure.

That’s not the real Maria. I’ll write about her tomorrow and you’ll see. She’s so sweet — normally — that she can cause cavities.


I swear.

Blessed Be,
D.K. Stevens

Random Thoughts

I was planning on posting a blog every Monday at 9:30pm EST (I’m in the New England area). I even listed my plans, but with school (for my son) and Life (which don’t always allow us what we want, when we want), I’m left with a Free Write. What am I up to? Let’s see:

* I’m reading “Tinseltown: Murder, Morphine, and Madness at the Dawn of Hollywood” on Scribd. Check it out: https://www.scribd.com/book/242262974

* I’m working on my parenting blog, which I received a lot of help on, especially from a certain special D.D.S., who went above and beyond what I asked for. In fact, as the parenting blog looks like it will be blogs (plural), you’ll be seeing a lot of advice from D.D.S. (Probably even in the “Dad Advice” blog! Lol. Yes, she was that helpful. I cannot thank her enough.)

* I’ve been learning about guns — as I have no knowledge on the topic — to help my Zombie stories be more realistic. Two apps I’ve started with are:

  • Pistols: A listing of pistols by country of origin, includes history, statistics, etc.
  • GunDals – Gun information: similar to “Pistols”, but covers more types of guns.

* I had a new stalker. This guy, we’ll call him “Dan”, would constantly paw at my breasts and, while I’m used to guys grabbing my breasts:

  • He knew that I was C.B.C (Celibate By Choice)
  • He’s not my type
  • He had a girlfriend (when I met him, about a year and a half ago, he asked, “If I break up with my girlfriend, will you be with me then?” Because every time I pushed his hands off of my breasts saying, “No”/ “I’m Celibate” / “You’re not my type” / “You have a girlfriend”, the only one he heard was the last one.

Last Monday, I saw Dan by the train station, where I always see him. He looked really down. Which was odd as two weeks before he’d been bragging about how he was going to propose to his girlfriend, let’s call her “Kim”, with a $7000 cubic zirconia ring at Xmas.

I asked Dan what was wrong. He said he’d come home to their (well, her) apartment to find Kim having sex with the Super to pay off back rent. Dan said he had punched the Super, while Kim, “just sat there, breathing heavily.” Dan had tears in his eyes. I felt bad. Not bad enough to do anything with him (CBC, and not my type), but I stupidly gave him my phone number and Facebook name.

Even before I agreed to Dan’s Facebook friend request, he had two pictures of me on his page saying, “Isn’t she sexy?” Or, “How hot is she?” (I’ll have to look it up; I’ve had to take a lot of screenshots this week, and I’m not very good at it).

Dan spent the week constantly asking to come over to, “keep [me] ‘company'”, etc. Since my previous excuses hadn’t worked, I simply said, “No”. Or, “My son is home”.

I began taking a different train simply to avoid him.

Friday or Saturday night he posts on my timeline, “My girlfriend wants to know if we had sex.” Then he texted her number. I couldn’t believe he was going back to that cheater!

Then she starts writing to me on Messenger, how she needs to know if I was with Dan, please be honest, etc.

I wasn’t going to get into their drama. But then he texts me that he’s back with his girlfriend and I need to back off. Wait, what??? I need to “back off“???

Turns out, Dan was trying to make me the “bad guy”. He had told Kim that he and I were dating since Monday, then on Friday he said it was a, “prank” to hurt her like she hurt him.

Saturday night I sent Kim some screenshots. Dan said I was lying and had (somehow) hacked his phone. Why? I’ve never been interested in him!

Then Kim and I talked. And talked. For hours. Comparing stories, piecing together the truth from Dan’s lies. Turns out, in the year and a half that I knew him, Dan neglected to mention he’d been in a psych ward for over a decade. He was able to work (despite the decade; I’m not sure what they were for or how old he was); he wasn’t paying Kim $300/month rent; one time he used his food stamps and she paid him back in cash; he did have a brother and a sister, but the other brother who had been killed by a gunshot to the head? Never existed. And so on.

According to her, she never cheated. He had once brought a girl up to the apartment when Kim was at work, but she wanted proof that he’d had sex with her and there was none so she didn’t break up with him. I don’t think she’s stupid, I think she’s in love and codependent. I pointed out how disrespectful it was for him to tell me that story, but I think it was the screenshots of texts that did it. According to her, she simply kicked him out Sunday.

She asked if I thought they should be together. I told her it’s her life; she should take 24 hours (Sunday), and think about what she can and cannot take. If the next girl he paws says, “Yes”, will she be ok with that? I’m a list-maker, I said, “Why not make a list of ‘Pro’s’ and ‘Con’s’ of your relationship?” Plus, after talking to her so long, I found out — among other things — that on at least two occasions, he’d been physically violent with her. Which, to me, is a deal-breaker.

Yet, she constantly gave him money; in fact, she’d given him $140 before kicking him out that night! The $300/month he said he gave her for rent? She laughed. Nope. Never happened. Then she asks again if I think she should take him back.

Oh, come on. I felt like I was rubbing salt into her open wounds. I just told her he’s been pawing at me for 18 months; sent screenshots of him calling me, “sexy”, etc. Of course she should not be with him!

Instead, I reiterated the 24 hour idea and think about how much she could take. Would she be ok if the next girl says, “yes”?

This went on and on. I just wanted to scream: NO! STAY AWAY FROM HIM!But, apparently, she doesn’t realize she could get another guy in a second. Better to be “alone” for a few months than with him. *Rolls eyes*

But then Sunday, after multiple apologies from me for telling her the truth, she texts: she’d rather be alone than with a liar. *Cheers and applause*

Now, my intent was not to break them up. But after she and I talked, and I heard how he used and abused her? I would be lying if I said they belong together. It’s basic codependency. Sort of. On her part. As for Dan? He’s just a user. He’s in his mid-30’s and doesn’t want to work. So he has these kinds of relationships. It’s sad, but it’s also been 24 hours since I’ve heard from him soooo… Got rid of that stalker in 18 months. Woo-hoo! (I was seriously scared for the kid and me.)

Happy Rosh Hashana / Jewish New Year (Shana Tova!) to my fellow Jews!

Blessed Be,

D. K. Stevens

The Irony

The irony of our school’s Zombie Apocalypse was that it hit on, of all days, Halloween. I was a junior in high school, a geek with straight A’s. Shuffling to my locker was my boyfriend of a year, Joel. He was also jock of the year. Nothing unusual about him coming up behind me, he did that daily so he could kiss me on the neck.

“So you went with the zombie look, huh?” I asked. “Very realistic.” And then he leaned in and bit a chunk of flesh from my throat.

“Joel, what the–” I put my hand on my neck to stop the flow of blood. “You actually bit me! You. Bit. Me!” But he was shambling over to Carlie Cass, the school’s number one cheerleader, my number one competition, as I slid down to the floor and held my t-shirt to the gaping hole in my neck.

The lights began to dim and I was aware of my body sliding sideways. “Hep mee,” I managed to mumble before things went dark.

“Wakey, wakey,” said a man with a high voice. To someone else he said, “I think this ones coming around.” I squinted and saw that I was in a concrete room with metal tables neatly arranged into rows.

“She’s awake,” a computer-like voice said. “She’s just faking.” I opened my eyes all the way to see Carlie standing over me, and my chemistry teacher come running over. He looked very excited.

“Welcome!” He announced. “To the Afterlife!”

My neck had a bandage around it, my voice was lower and scratchy, “Are we,” I found that I had to hold my neck to talk. “Are we still in school? What happened?” I tried to sit up, only to find that I was strapped to the bed.

Mr. Greenberg came within a foot of my metal bed. “You’re strapped down. You all are,” he giggled. He reached out and ran his finger over Carlie’s face. She seemed to squirm, but couldn’t do anything. “You see, originally, I’d hoped football head here–” he pointed at Joel, “would go for Carlie first, I’d bring them down here, end him, and have Carlie to myself.” Here he turned and glared at Joel, strapped to the bed across from me. “Unfortunately, I didn’t realize that he was into brains like you, which gave me the zombie idea.” Here he smiled at his joke, “Get it? Halloween? Zombies? Brains? Only dumb jock Joel bit you first, then Carlie, who bit Gene, who bit Jess, and so on until I had twelve drooling monsters to sneak down here. Not an easy thing to explain.”

Mr. Greenberg started pacing as he spoke. I found that my brain was starting to work again, and counted six tables in two rows. The girls were on one side, the boys on the other. Unfortunately, the boys were football-types, the girls were cheerleader-types. I also found that I was hungry — for brains. I lifted my head, held a hand on my neck, and asked, “Brains?”

“Oh!,” clapped Mr. Greenberg. “The genius of the group is hungry!” He giggled again. Then he began looking at the female side and when he looked at the male side I whispered, “Carlie. Psst. Carlie,” she slowly came my way. “Do you want to be here?” I asked when she was close enough.

“No! He’s gross!” she whispered back.

“Loosen our bindings one at a time. He won’t notice,” I whispered back.

“Uh, Mr. Greenberg! I think this one is trying to escape!” Carlie yelled out. Bitch.

But as Mr. Greenberg looked me over, she loosened the boys side and gave me a thumbs up. Maybe we were on the same side after all.

”Uuurggghh,” Joel moaned.

“Oh, no!” Mr. Greenberg ran over to Joel’s side. This time, Carlie loosened the female side.

Suddenly, all twelve of us sat up and went for Mr. Greenberg. We ate his brains and, I have to be honest, they tasted good.

Somehow, Mr. Greenberg disappeared and his class became a night class. Our parents found that we suddenly loved brains, and we all hung out until late at night. Crime went down in our town, with the brains missing from the criminals. Our principal made our classes later, the sheriff let a lot of cases go, “unsolved”, and we found that when we got sick from lack of brains, a jar of brains would mysteriously show up in our lockers. Other students were told that we had a “brush with death” so nobody asked why the school geek was best friends with the school jocks and cheerleaders, or why we were so pale.

But we knew why the basement was locked and we weren’t telling.

Update & Watch “Would You Fuck Me? – Jay and Silent Bob” on YouTube

So, yeah, life happens and we don’t always get the blogs we want when we want them. I’m assuming my interview was busy with her business and I hope to tell you more… But, if not, I’ve got other friends with home based businesses, specifically one who has a husband, two kids, does videos until 2am, then wakes up a few hours later and does it all again!!! (Not to mention this girl, er, woman, saved me when I was raped by picking me up, bringing me to her place, letting me stay for the night — wrapped in a blanket because I didn’t want to be touched as I silently cried. Which just proves how awesome she is and always has been.)

So here’s my September intro, thanks to Jason Mewes, who has been through addiction — like me — and crawled his way out — like a few others you’ll meet soon. Apparently we were at a party “back in the day” when sharing a bong of pot. We both (separately) moved on to heroin. But, at the time, wow!, heroin!, that’s a “hard” drug! Unfortunately, Generation X, our Generation, lost a lot of great people to heroin, but I’ll address that in a future blog.

For now, enjoy the video, and you still have time to send me info on parenting (I’ve got a questionnaire). Thanks to all who have; I really didn’t expect so many to help — I wish I could thank you all by name because you’re amazing! Thank you!

Blessed Be,

D. K. Stevens

P.S. I’m working on a short Zombie story tentatively titled, “Stuck in the Cafeteria”. What would you do if you were a teacher locked in a school cafeteria with a crazy janitor, a couple of rent-a-cops, a couple of other teachers (one you’ve had a crush on for years), tons of high school students, and hundreds of hungry zombies just outside the doors? One school teacher is about to find out.

Back To School September / October

Every couple of weeks, I hope to post a Back To School blog for US, THE PARENTS.

* One week, I will introduce you to amazing, relaxing products with a special interview by the products creator.

* Another week I will give you tips and quotes from parents who got off of drugs for their kids, and stay off of drugs for their kids.

* Tips on dealing with Children’s Services.

* Pets and kids.

* Making sure your kids actually do their homework

* Kids and bullies

* Anything readers suggest.

Send suggestions to: lalitadevibastet@yahoo.com