I’ve had a very interesting week. It’s a ‘not so nice’ interesting way, but one that has sparked the idea for a book or to be more precise…a horror novel.

My kids almost never have accidents. I say almost because there was that one time a few years ago my daughter ended up with a split chin which needed gluing, but that is about the extent of our blood/stitches dramas. This of course makes me extremely happy because I don’t deal with blood and gashes on my babies well (my babies are 11, 9 and 7).

However…and there is a big however, this last week I have had to rush them off to the hospital not once but TWICE! Didn’t make it the whole way to the hospital the second time but I’ll explain that one a bit later on…

The first incident occurred last Saturday. My daughter (the nine year old), managed to split her knee while playing around the pool. There were screams and she was on her back on the pavers. The other kids were shouting ‘knee’. I looked down and saw a two inch gash on her leg.

I almost passed out…

In the last few years my wonderful ability to handle blood or serious cuts on my kids has gone out the window. I can still deal with it on other people but for some reason not my kids…wonder why???

What made it even worse was the sudden flashback I had to my childhood.

And boy was it a horror flashback…

I was about nine when my youngest brother had a similar accident but his was much worse. Three gashes on knee and ankle that went to the bone. I’m not sure how many of you have witnessed something like that (and I don’t want to scare the more squeamish reader you so feel free not to read the next sentence or two) but you automatically know stitches are required because the split flesh turns white and curls backwards from the cut like pieces of scored squid flesh. And at first there is no blood (another wonder why moment) then after a time delay, the blood starts to flow.

My brother didn’t even know it had happened until I took one look and started screaming. That moment will stay with me forever but my daughter’s accident resurrected the horror.

Anyway, back to the story…

So my daughter was sobbing, and blood was now flowing down her leg. Not wanting to frighten the beejeepers out of my kids by keeling over, I held myself together long enough to get a clean towel, apply pressure and ring my darling husband to get home asap. Ten minutes later, he had her in the car and off to hospital.

It was then I started to pace. And when I pace I think. And when I think, my brain often twists whatever I’ve seen, heard or done into a story or at least the ideas of a story.

The thoughts that day turned into the bones of a suspense/horror novel. I had two hours to mull them over and in that time I’d come up with a half decent character and I knew a bit about her.

The story only took a back step in my head once my sore and sorry daughter arrived home After all, sympathy and love were needed to make everything better.

The book remained hidden in a corner of my brain for three days…then it resurfaced on Tuesday evening with a bang or should I say screams???

A mother should not have to see so much blood coming out of her kids, especially with only a few days between them…it takes me a while to recover and that was definitely not a sufficient length of time…

The screams belonged to my seven year old son. The sound of his agony trailed behind him as he ran down the hallway to me. Also trailing behind him was blood. LOTS OF BLOOD…big red drops…hmmm, actually it was more like big red lakes of blood.

It took me a second to work out where it was all coming from because it was all down both arms and hands.

Turns out it was his fingers. It wasn’t a pretty sight…

Think blades of a pedestal fan and fingers connecting. Apparently there was no cover on the fan. Don’t ask me why or how because I’d put it back on just the evening before. One of the boys for some reason kept taking it off.

Anyway, as per the time before, I almost passed out, clean towel, pressure, phone call to darling husband at tennis.

As tennis was on the way to the hospital, I threw the kids in the car and raced off.

We didn’t make it to the hospital though. Once I arrived at tennis my husband took a look at it. He assured me it wasn’t nice but stitches would not be required. At these words I almost cried. I’d seen enough blood to last me forever.

Blood and gashes were in my thoughts for the rest of the evening. I kept reliving the sight of both cuts. They would flash into my mind and I would tightly close my eyes to try to get rid of the sight but they wouldn’t go. When I finally went to bed I had nightmares about them. Let me tell you it wasn’t a pleasant night.

But there was an upside to all this. Yes, really!

By the next morning, the novel that had been brewing in my brain burst forth. It was formed complete with characters, plot and dare I say it? BLOOD…

I haven’t put words to paper yet. I like to play with it in my head for a while first and then when the book appears in my mind like a movie, I know I’m ready to let it out.

People always ask how I get ideas for my stories…well now you know!!!