One of the perks of being a less-than-talkative introvert is that, even after several years of marriage, you can surprise your spouse with trivial facts about yourself. You know, the random kind of information most people would have exchanged during their first year of dating.
The other day my husband and I were discussing an invitation to a Halloween party. I made the comment that Halloween was my favorite holiday, and he replied, “It is? Why?” After my initial thought of How can he not know this?, I scrounged up a few words to explain.
Other kids went to haunted houses or watched scary movies. I stayed home to watch the Peanuts Halloween special on TV and stuff myself with caramel apples and popcorn balls. Other kids dressed up as witches and vampires. I borrowed a wig to complete my Princess Leia costume. In the days before attending Comic Con was cool, I looked forward to Halloween because it was the one day of the year that I could dress up like a space princess without being labeled as a nerd or a freak. For one day, I didn’t have to worry about reality. I could be Princess Leia. I could lead a group of ragtag rebels against the Empire and win.
Growing up, Halloween was about picking a costume and becoming a character, the perfect holiday for a future novelist. It was a day for me to celebrate imagination, and it still is. Halloween is one of the rare occasions when it’s socially acceptable for adults to play pretend—to imagine who they could be and what they could do—and I refuse to give that up.
Where will your imagination take you this Halloween?