Welcome to bookchat where you can talk about anything...books, plays, essays, and books on tape. You don’t have to be reading a book to come in, sit down, and chat with us
Tell us about your favorite spooky tales and then take a minute to fill in the story and copy it to us. You may change words and add words as needed to fill in the blanks. (for some reason, maybe because of the blanks, I am getting italics where I didn't have any so please ignore).
Once upon a time where the hills of Sorrow poured a river of silver light down to the
village of Gorat, there lived a _________.
This ____ was not a monster, but a survivor of ______.
Surviving and not hiding, but living _______ was the true way.
Yet on Hallowe’en, all the memories came to the fore and the
______ returned to the place of his creation and birth, the house of
High above the town of Gorat, the old house stood outlined against a harvest moon.
______ were its shutters and ______ the high-arched inner door
of the famous ______ where hunters of old had sat at ease to
drink ______ on the 31rst of October for centuries.
____ entered the gloom of the room. His steps ________ and
the raven above the mantel sitting on the chandelier mocked him with curses.
“_________,” he replied in the old tongue and with a gesture,
lit the fire. The flames ______ and bells down in Gorat
“It is time,” said the other guest who swiveled in his chair and looked at
_____. “I call upon you to renounce _______ and
to accept ________.”
The young ______ laughed until tears ran down his cheeks. The sound
ran around the old mansion from darkest dungeon to the
“Never,” he said. He opened the _______ and drank deeply of
“Then why did you come?” asked the guest whose face looked ______
in the dim light.
“I came to _________ forever from this house. I came to
_____ it before your eyes. Next year will be a new beginning for us all.”
“Over my dead body!”
With that the fire died, the raven flew out the window and
Slowly, the sun rose over the hills and the cock crew. The people of Gorat climbed
the church tower and looked up to the sinister ridge where lightning had flashed all
All that remained was ____________.
Down the road to the village trudged the ________.
He, at least, was ____________.
My favorite spooky and wonderful story is The Devil and Daniel Webster by Stephen Vincent Benet.
What is yours?
Diaries of the Week:
Write On! Of character, briefly.
GFHC - Emmigrants Who Returned Home Or Making It Up As You Go Along
Kos Katalogue: the holidays are coming!
by Sara R
A Brief History Of Halloween
by Purple Priestess
NOTE: plf515 has book talk on Wednesday mornings early