HBT - Guest post with author Katie Alender

Please read this post!! It's one of my most favorite author guest posts!

Today's Haunted Blog Tour is a guest post with author, Katie Alender! She is the author of the young-adult novel "Bad Girls Don't Die", which was published this year.

"Being the Character", by Katie Alender

Halloween always makes me feel guilty. This is probably tied to my somewhat questionable sense of personal style. You see, when you see Halloween costumes for women, they're usually tiny body suits with bunny tails or long, clingy Elvira dresses. When we go to Halloween parties, we're surrounded by women like this, showing off their assets in teensy-weensy leotards.

But not me. Oh, no, not me.

For example, last year? I was a nun (NOT a sexy nun--a convinving nun). Before that, I was a Dalmatian (to match my dog, Winston--he's not a Dalmatian, but he dressed like one, too.) And before that? I was a farmer.

So, yeah, I feel a pinch of guilt. Because while most men probably want a hippity-hoppity leotard bunny at their sides, my husband is the one with the girl dressed as one-eyed Leela from "Futurama"--bumping into things, losing my cardboard eye, having major purple hairspray malfunctions...

Dressing up for Halloween is about playing a character. As a writer, I'm quite comfortable it. And I must say, the characters who are the most fun to "play" aren't the perfect bunnies in shiny leotards, or the "she'd never be allowed to wear a skirt that short in Kansas" sexy Dorothys. They're the nuns, and the farmers, and the outcasts with one eye. They're the real people, who aren't necessarily cute and flirty, but have a story to tell. You know just by looking at them (or thinking about them, as an author).

But okay, that's not the only reason. I'm also not quite the bunny-suit type. The last time I wore any kind of leotard in public was probably 1989, to a gymnastics class where I most certainly got stuck trying to flip over the uneven parallel bars (my gymnastics career was quite short-lived).

I don't know what I'm going to be this year. I"m sort of looking forward to it and sort of not. My husband is lucky; he's always the same thing. He has a foam milk carton that he puts on his head, and his face is the 'missing person'. It's great, because it makes him about seven feet tall and I can spot him from across the party.

I don't have anything against the ladies who like to get out there work it in their sassy costumes. But I must say, when I'm hanging out in my nun garb (and--the best part!--sensible, comfortable shoes), and I see a Victorian zombie bride come in, covered in lace to her chin, wrists, and ankles, and so gory that she couldn't possible be considered tempting to anyone but her zombie groom, my heart does a happy little dance.

And I think, "Now there's someone with a story!"