Goosebumps was a series of classic horror books for kids written by R. L. Stine. They were extremely popular when I was growing up. Even these days, the volume sales of the series as a whole is second only to the more recent Harry Potter series. Before I gave these old books away, I decided to reread the books I had and write my thoughts on them. An interesting thing about Goosebumps was that both my sister and I liked it. My sister and I never got along, so it was rare sight for something to interest both of us. In fact, my sister originally got the first Goosebumps book. I only got into it after borrowing the books from her.
I noticed in these books, the author liked to use a first-person perspective sometimes. On top of that, he never mentioned the color of the characters’ skins. Hair color was mentioned but never skin color. I wonder if this was a conscious effort to avoid any accusations of racism or if the author was just trying to be as inclusive to the reader as possible.
This story was basically a parody of The Boy Who Cried Wolf. The girl in this story was always trying to scare her younger brother by making up stories about monsters. Her parents got fed up about it. One day she saw a real monster. The rest of the book was about her trying to convince her parents that the monster was real. She tried and tried but no one would believe her. Like all the Goosebumps books it had a great twist at the end.
Something early on that seemed strange in The Girl Who Cried Monster was how sophisticated the little brother’s dialogue was. I don’t know about others, but I know I couldn’t talk that well at age 6. It almost seemed like the author wrote the dialogue as if the two kids were both the same age but then later changed the little brother to be younger. The little brother was just too smart for his age.
I’ve never been a jokester myself, but I could sympathize somewhat with the girl’s situation. In the girl’s case, she was heard but no one believed her. In my case, I’m usually just not heard at all. I am soft spoken. I don’t know why that is. I think my vocal chords were damaged as a long term side effect of some of my asthma medicine I took as a kid. My normal speaking voice is fine in a quiet place, but in a group, it is very hard for me to be heard. I have to sometimes yell as hard as I can to be heard.
Sometimes I will have an insight during a conversation, but the group can’t hear it. Someone might hear it and repeat it. Then everyone gives that person credit instead of me. I think a lot of people see me as kind of mysterious. They don’t hear anything from me, so they wonder what kind of person I am. Other than my parents, I don’t get invited to do things. People rarely ask me for help. Over the years this caused me to become extremely independent. No one was looking out for me except myself.
For about a year, I had a lot of resentment towards others. I felt I was never given a chance. I had a lot of envy for others that seemed to get all the attention without trying. However, with prayer and study of the faith, I slowly have gotten better. I am generally at peace. Sometimes it bad feelings creep up again when I have something to say and can’t be heard, but I clamp down on any negative thoughts quickly. Me doing my own thing is just part of life. It’s just one of the sufferings I have to deal with. I used to have a lot of envy for others that seemed to get all the attention, but then I realized that my situation is a blessing. I am a much stronger believer than those people that haven’t had to struggle as much as I have. That struggling has made me stronger where it counts, which is getting to heaven. I think I look forward to heaven much more than a lot of people because of this.