Ever since there have been witches, there have been enormous and spectacular meetings of their witchy minds. Every 13th year at the 13th full moon, witches from around the world have come together for the Witches’ Invention Convention. Witches of all genders and races, sizes and shapes, and area of expertise have crossed the world to meet in a thick, foggy swamp, to show off their new concoctions, performances, spells, tricks and spectacles, impressing both their idols and peers. Every convention takes a new theme—flight, invisibility, transformation—and the witch to perform the best in that theme walks away with a spectacular prize.

At the 13th ever Witches’ Invention Convention, the prize was more magnificent than any of the witches could have expected: a mysteriously forged golden cauldron, which promised its user powers beyond that of any known witch. The cauldron was so powerful that many regarded it with fear. Fittingly, the challenge which accompanied this terrifying prize was to SCARE, SPOOK, STRIKE FEAR and FRIGHTEN as no witch has ever done before.

At this point in my story it’s important that I explain something about witches of this time: while today we often think of witches as cruel and evil creatures, this story takes place in a time before evil as we know it had entered our world, and while these witches might have been both sneaky and spooky, their actions worked in the names of mischief and fun, but not cruelty.

So, as the convention took off, witch after witch would call their audience to attention and perform trick after spook after scare. Some witches transformed into tall and towering ogres, others made shadows dance unexpectedly, and some cackled in earth rumbling, eardrum shattering pitches.

One young witch watched these performances in awe and envy of the skill he saw in the witches around him. Jealousy grew in him, having only begun his practice, and being unable to surprise many with his magic. He wanted to win the powerful cauldon to surpass his peers in skill, and win the fame and fortune he believed owed to him. When the judges came to his witches station, they asked if he had a terrifying trick to show them. Instead of telling the judges to leave, or performing a spell he knew wouldn’t impress them, he decided to try something new.

“I’m going to scare you today with the magic of words and the power of story-weaving”.

“That doesn’t sound very scary” they thought, “but the greatest of freights come to us when we least expect them, so tell us your story”.

The young witch told a story of evil beyond what their world had ever known, a story of pain and abuse and of wrongful murder, a story of hatred and calculated cold cruelty. When his story was finished he looked to the judges faces, hoping to see fearful eyes and gaping mouths, but instead, he saw them overcome with sadness and tears. “Your story did not scare us, but instead it has broke our hearts. You haven’t won our prize but your words have proven more powerful, they have the power of first evil”.

The young witch quickly regretted all they’d done, their greed and their prideful defiance, and they begged to take their story back. But, of course, it was too late. For once a story is told, it cannot be called back. Once told, it is loose in the world.

Storytelling Reflections:

The biggest surprise I had was not how much the story changed, which it did, a lot, but how fun it was to make the story my own. I wanted to stay true to the original story’s message, and to the vision I had of the story at first, but in telling it, it seemed to grow in every direction.

After telling this story and then writing it, I went back to read King’s version again. I was shocked to see how much of this version I had forgotten or remembered differently. Some elements changed in my mind over time, and some wording and description seem to have left my mind entirely.

This exercise made me realize that when I’d read the story the first time, I’d filled in a lot of details in my mind, contributing to the creation of the story while reading it: I’d already painted a backdrop/setting for the plot without consciously or purposefully doing so, and I’d seen images of the witches and their tricks. So, in writing my own version, I seemed to be looking back at not only my memories of what I’d read, but also of the world I’d created for the story in my mind, while reading it.