Yes, Virginia, there is an elf in Florida!

A young girl named Sparrow crept through the quack grass until she reached the tallest tree in her yard, a Norfolk pine with emerald limbs attached to the tree like perfectly combed mustaches. Sparrow stopped by the tree trunk and knocked, placing a box in front of a tiny birch bark door. She stuck out her tongue, fiddling with the shiny red bow taped to the top. “Perfect. This gift is for you, Mr. Elf,” she stated with conviction, rising to her feet and rubbing her snotty nose.

Sparrow rubbed both hands across her stomach and danced a little jig, turning and shuffling back towards her house.

Inside the tree, an elf the size of a stick of butter leaned a pointy ear against the small door, opening it to peer outside. The elf watched the human girl’s pigtails wiggle as she walked most peculiarly, like a penguin. But there were no penguins in Florida and not many elves.

The elf opened the gift as soon as the girl slipped into her house, finding two walnuts the same size as his hands. Martin the elf removed his green cap and scratched his head. His mission was to give gifts, not receive them, and he wasn’t the kind of elf to change his life’s purpose now. Martin looked up into the branches of the towering Norfolk, grabbed the walnuts, and touched his nose. Poof! He was gone.

Now, Martin was twenty feet high, sitting on a branch. “Excuse me, Ms. Bark Beetle, I’m your neighbor, Martin. Would you like my walnuts?”

“Oh, no. Yuck,” said the beetle.

Martin frowned, then raised his eyebrows, waving at a Mockingbird. Unfortunately, the bird flew away. This time, Martin touched his green boot, finding himself at the top of the tree, surveying the lush mangroves littering the bay and the majestic royal palms scattered below. Martin wasn’t alone; a serious-looking osprey was clinging to the precipice of the Norfolk. Martin held out his hand. “Hello, I’m Martin the elf. Would you like these walnuts, you know, for a Christmas gift?”

“No,” said the osprey. The bird glowered at Martin, adding, “I only eat fish.”

Martin furrowed his brows and touched his right ear lobe's soft, spongy part. Pop! Martin found himself halfway down the tree, clinging to the bark. “Sir. Mr. Pine Weevil, would you like these nuts?” asked Martin.

“Don’t be silly. The nuts wouldn’t fit inside my tiny mouth,” replied the bug.

Martin kicked at a pine needle, searching the branch for other critters. He pulled up his shirt and touched his belly button, vanishing again. Now, Martin was out on a limb, staring into the beady eyes of a fluffy gray squirrel. Martin smiled, holding out his sweaty hand. The squirrel inched closer, ruffling needles in his wake. “Are those for me? Oh, thank you so much,” said the squirrel with a whisker twitch.

Martin puffed his chest. “Merry Christmas!” 

The End

I launched Amazon ads last month. Wish me luck! Plus, the Southwest Connector newspaper featured me and my book. The Florida Writer magazine also announced my book news. :)

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Read My Guest Post with Author Dawn Colclasure

 

How a Halloween Decoration Inspired a Haunted House Story

By Dawn Colclasure

Ever since we moved into the house we have now spent 13 years living in, I have made good

use of our hallway. It was our first hallway, so it had many different uses:

 * It was a place where my kids could hang out on a long fluffy area rug

 It was a source of fun since my kids often slid through it in sock-covered feet on the

hardwood floor or ride their scooters (!) and skateboard (!!)

  *It was a showcase for family photos

 * It was a place I could put a couple of bookcases

 * It was a “hallway of horrors” every Halloween

That last one was my favorite, because even though our “hallway of horrors” was not open for

public viewing and the decorations were fake, I loved walking through our spooky hallway,

imagining that the monsters were real.

This had a lasting effect on me. So much so that I started to wonder: What if such a hallway

really existed? That could make an interesting story!

At the time I started thinking of using our “hallway of horrors” for a story, I was busy putting

together a collection of YA horror stories for a book titled The Worst Thing You Ever Did. 

And since the stories in this book featured male teen characters, I decided that the characters in

my “hallway of horrors” story would be male teens.

But how was I going to do this? I had the hallway and I had the horrors. But how would it all

become a story?

I decided to write each scene of the story using one decoration at a time, starting the story with

an “introduction” scene about how my character even ends up in that hallway, then moving on

with each decoration as I moved through the hallway. I took pictures of each decoration that I

passed in our spooky hallway and came up with ideas for each one as I wrote the story.

It took several weeks for me to write that story, which actually turned out to be a good thing.

Later that month, I came across a fake dagger that was being sold at a department store for

Halloween, and I loved it so much, I decided to use it in one scene of the story. Even after I

finished writing the story, I kept that fake dagger, just because it reminded me of the story!

Alas, however, the hallway of horrors did not last for very long, as our hallway once again was

changed and there was no longer any room for all of the decorations that I normally used for it.

Still, I wasn’t too upset about this, because now our “hallway of horrors” would live forever in

the story I wrote.

A story that is now in a book of stories that is now being published. After several rounds of

rejection, my collection of YA horror stories, The Worst Thing You Ever Did, was accepted by

PsychoToxin Press, and the book’s release date is December 12 th.

I am beyond thrilled that my book of stories finally found a home, and even more pleased that 

I was able to feature our “hallway of horrors” in a story. It just goes to show that the next time

something tickles your muse and you think it can be turned into a story, pay attention to that

feeling. Write notes, take pictures, and work your way through that story idea one step at a time.

BIO: Dawn Colclasure is a writer in Oregon. She is a freelance writer, book reviewer and

columnist. She is the author and co-author of over four dozen books, among them her horror

novel, Shadow of Samhain. Her forthcoming titles from PsychoToxin Press include the YA

horror story collection, The Worst Thing You Ever Did, and the psychological horror novella, 

All the Beautiful Things. Her work has appeared in magazines, websites and anthologies. She’s on Twitter

@dawnwilson325 and @dawncolclasure.

Visit Dawn's Books and DMC Writer for the rest of the story!