The summer I was eleven I started reading a new series. These books had to do witht he concept of spiritual warfare and were also my first introduction into occultic practices and satanists. Naturally, when my cousin came to visit, I had to introduce her to these stories as well.
The result of these books was that my cousin and I proceeded to write our own short stories, all of them centered around satanists who were trying to get our main characters.
I was talking to this cousin on the phone last night and we both began to remininsce about that summer, shaking our heads and laughing at what we thought were brilliant plot lines. Our characters were always beautiful, were always rescued by some guy who was a total babe, they always doubted the sincerity of this gorgeous man, and then they always got together in the end. Oh, and they usually got together after the main character had ended up in the hospital with some mild injuries and lots of bruises.
You can shake your head, but when you realize that this was the same cousin who polished my mother's silver with me while we pretended to be a part of Henry VIII's court, or who did dishes with me while pretending we were servants in a grand castle trying to solve some bit of court intrigue, this will all make sense. Naturally we would read such novels and our imaginations would assume that there were satanists behind every rock and that that would create the perfect plots for the stories of eleven year olds.
I suppose my whole reason for writing this, beyond the fact that it continues to prove what a dork I am, is that this story gives me hope. This same cousin whose imagination was just as rambunctious as my own will be celebrating three years of marriage this summer. She found a man who loved everything about her, including her creativity and imagination. I can now only hope that there will be hope for me as well!!!
Such is the life of a Christian single.
The result of these books was that my cousin and I proceeded to write our own short stories, all of them centered around satanists who were trying to get our main characters.
I was talking to this cousin on the phone last night and we both began to remininsce about that summer, shaking our heads and laughing at what we thought were brilliant plot lines. Our characters were always beautiful, were always rescued by some guy who was a total babe, they always doubted the sincerity of this gorgeous man, and then they always got together in the end. Oh, and they usually got together after the main character had ended up in the hospital with some mild injuries and lots of bruises.
You can shake your head, but when you realize that this was the same cousin who polished my mother's silver with me while we pretended to be a part of Henry VIII's court, or who did dishes with me while pretending we were servants in a grand castle trying to solve some bit of court intrigue, this will all make sense. Naturally we would read such novels and our imaginations would assume that there were satanists behind every rock and that that would create the perfect plots for the stories of eleven year olds.
I suppose my whole reason for writing this, beyond the fact that it continues to prove what a dork I am, is that this story gives me hope. This same cousin whose imagination was just as rambunctious as my own will be celebrating three years of marriage this summer. She found a man who loved everything about her, including her creativity and imagination. I can now only hope that there will be hope for me as well!!!
Such is the life of a Christian single.
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