My name is Jonene Ficklin, and I'm a full-time wife, mom, writer, and professional artist. I've been
drawing since I was old enough to hold a pencil. I use colored pencils, oil paints, and watercolors. I love what I do!
I just read a book about a sixteen year old girl who gets lost in the woods, and Death (as in a real person) comes to take her. However, Death is a young and very handsome man. The girl, Keturah, bargains for one more day, which Death grants—if she can find her true love. The problem is, she’s not even dating.
I won’t ruin the story, but it’s a great read! (It’s Keturah and Lord Death by Martine Leavitt, for any who want to read it.)
But that brings up the subject of being scared to death – or nearly to death. I think we’ve all had experiences. Many of mine are recent and involve teaching my teenagers to drive. Then again, I was a teenager once, and I remember giving my very patient father quite a fright, so I'll spare you the driving stories.
Aside from that, one nerve-jangling experience immediately comes to mind. When I was a little girl, probably about eight or nine, it was so cold that I huddled in a blanket over our heating vent. It felt wonderful and I nearly fell asleep. But then my arm itched. I looked down just as I went to scratch it.
There sat a spider the size of a Tonka truck (well, it sure seemed like it at the time). Every one of the eight hundred and seventy nine hairs on my neck jerked upright. My body hummed with enough electricity to light Los Angeles and Moscow, AND, if a heart could leap out of a chest, I would have won the Olympics.
Long story short, both the spider and I were soon airborne - him into the far wall, me to the other end of the house.
Then I shuddered for weeks. Actually, I’m still shuddering.