Screaming is usually something I write about, and chapters ending with a scream are usually effective. However, I have just returned from a holiday which involved a lot of screaming, a fair bit of fear, and quite a few heart-stopping moments. I'm talking about my holiday to Euro-Disney with my grandchildren.
The holiday was really good, although a different experience for me. Last year's holiday was a bit more posh because I went to Venice on the Orient Express. Unfortunately for me, Hercule Poirot was nowwhere to be seen. Grandchildren, however, don't appreciate that sort of holiday, so Euro-Disney it was.
Naively I thought I would get off with watching them as they cavorted on all the scary rides, but grandchildren have a way of getting round you and it wasn't long before I was screaming my head off on the terrifying Thunder Mountain, Crush's Coaster, Pirates of the Carribean and a succession of equally scary rides. I put my foot down though at the Tower of Terror - even one of my grandchildren chickened out of that one.
So it wasn't a waste of time in the writer sense. And, I must say, I did enjoy it, even the screaming!
Au revoir, until the next time.