Kitty Griffin

Gretel: Into the Bloodthorn

Gretel.
Yes, that Gretel. The one who wasn’t good enough to eat.

Her brother forgives everyone, even their father who took them into the woods and left them to die. Gretel forgives no one. Not even herself.

As someone left at an orphanage in Germany, I have been drawn to Gretel’s story more than any other fairy tale. Happy ever after. Where did Gretel have to go to find happy ever after, when for her there was abandonment, betrayal, and murder?

You know, a witch has a heart of stone. Stone doesn’t burn the way Gretel’s hands and arms did when she shoved the witch into the oven.
Several years have passed and now, under a pile of broken bricks and debris, the heart stirs. It’s hungry. It remembers a tender, plump boy about to be eaten.
With gravy.

The heart knows it just has to wait for someone evil enough to come along and find it. Then, its hunger will be sated.

Hänsel can’t remember the time of the witch and Gretel remembers too much. It is a lonely burden.

Gretel struggles to find her place in the world. But then her world turns to terror as the stone heart is found and its evil seeks out her brother. Once again, Hänsel’s life is in danger. Once again, it will be Gretel who must find a way to save him.

Shade
“Sorry, I don’t do dead.” The words tumbled out of Leo’s mouth before he could stop them. Like always, he couldn’t close down the rest of what he had to say and he kept going. “Cemeteries are not something I go into willingly and I won’t be going to any cemetery, even a national one, not even for a class field trip.” He gripped the front of his desk and commanded his mouth to shut, which it finally did.
First there was muttering. Some laughter followed by uproarious laughter as the rest of the class took in what he’d said.
One look at Mrs. Fetchko and Leo knew he was in doo-doo. He felt sweat pooling under his armpits. She strode over to the board and next to the neatly printed name, Leo Shade, she added a second check.
Deep doo-doo. Dad had said, “No more calls. Or else.” He couldn’t get another check.
“Mr. Shade, you must enjoy having me call your parents because this seems to be one of those days.”
There. No trial. No nothing. She probably had dad on speed-dial. He knew the drill. Three checks equaled one phone call.

Summer of Strange

August 13, 1952
Mr. Alfred Hitchcock
Hollywood, California

Dear Mr. Hitchcock,
This is the truth. On July 19, 1952 flying saucers flew over the U.S. Capital Building in Washington, D.C.
One week later, on July 26th they came back. (You can read about it in the Washington Post article that I’ve clipped to the top of this letter).
T. S.--Top Secret-- my eighteen-year-old sister, Mary Margaret, is why the saucers came back on the 26th. This swell story will make a box office smash, especially since it’s true. It’s full of suspense, action, mystery, adventure, and love. You’re the best director I can think of to make this movie. Please note—in what follows I use real names. When it’s time for the movie all the names MUST be changed to protect the innocent!
I am Bridget McGinnis. I’m thirteen years old and I’ll be going into the eighth grade. I get good marks in all of my subjects and I can send my report card if you wish. You will see I’ve never been in trouble (except for that one time with Sister Ambrosine, and I cross-my-heart promise, that wasn’t my fault). I have remarkable powers of observation and I’m certain that’s why I love to watch your movies. I can tell you’re a man who pays attention to detail. You also seem like a very suspicious person. That’s me, too!
I’m staying at a dairy farm in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia for now. You can mail the contract to me at the above address. Please use the name Helen Alfred in the return address. We have to keep this T.S.--Top Secret for now. I’m sure you will understand once you review the story. And Mr. Hitchcock, hold on to your hat.

Yours very sincerely,
Bridget Kathleen McGinnis

P.S. Just so you know I’m not a beginner at this, I’ve written for radio shows-- three episodes for, “Yours Truly, Johnny Dollar,” and two for “The Falcon,” and one for that very creepy show, “The Inner Sanctum.” I’m certain I’ll hear from the producers any day now.