I'm Baaaaaaaack...

Yesterday, I received an acceptance from West Pigeon Press for my short story, "The Chopping Block." It's my first sale in quite some time--but then again, it's the first story I've written in a while.

I mentioned "The Chopping Block" in a previous post--it's the one about the headless chicken. Just could not shake it. Or bake it. That was awful. I know...

I'm not sure about a release date (I think in the next couple of months), but I will share more information as it comes my way.

One thing I do know for sure: it feels good to jump back in the game.

Happy New Year!!! (Really, really, really late...)

Well, I'm back--and just when it's about to get crazy busy.

Baby Boy Murano is set to arrive in a matter of weeks (our first). I feel like I should write a bit about this, and the upcoming responsibilities of fatherhood, but my head is spinning. It's a happy variety of spin, but I'm having trouble organizing my thoughts about it right now. Now that we're so close to the finish line, all I can think about is how much I can't wait to meet him. And I'm wondering: How young is too young for John Carpenter's "The Thing"?

I must also finish a story for an upcoming horror anthology--one for which I received an invitation (first time for that, too). Crazy how a story from circa 2008 can open doors years later. I never would have thought. Anyhow, I have three stories in various stages of disarray. I'm thinking of one as a kind of riff on "Rosemary's Baby", but from the male perspective--and with a healthy dose of "What to Expect When You're Expecting" satire. It's actually based on a vivid dream I had shortly before my wife told me we were going to be parents. I'm trying not to read too much into that. Another has been percolating in my brain, literally, for years. It's about growing up...or choosing not to...and pajama pants. Evil, evil pajama pants. The third is just an image right now, involving a headless chicken (I know...sounds really exciting) but it's one I can't escape. I'll need to see where that one takes me.

Tally ho.

Baddest of the Bad (and a contest)

I should mention that Necrotic Tissue's "Best-Of" anthology has hit the shelves, virtual and otherwise. This collection contains the choicest skim of the scum that rose to the top over at the beloved (and now, sadly, defunct) independent horror magazine, Necrotic Tissue. I say that with the utmost affection, by the way. Between these covers, you'll find shark-fu, sex dungeons, zombies, unicorns, and all other manner of nastiness.

If you're into things that are awesome, I highly suggest checking it out.

You know what? Since I have a few extra copies, I'm kind of bored today, and it is the Halloween season, I'm going to run a contest. The person who leaves the best Halloween haiku in the comments section under this post wins a signed copy of the anthology. Not that I'm particularly cool or that my signature is worth a damn, but it might be someday. You just never know.

I guess now I find out if I actually have any readers here at ye olde blog. A reminder about haiku poetry: Three lines--5, 7, 5 syllables. For example:

October night air

Candy rustles in the bag

Ghosts and goblins scream

Contest closes Oct. 31.

Writers of the World: Cast Off Thy Training Wheels

Look--I know this is probably an unpopular opinion among my peers, but I despise writers' workshops. I think they're a worthless waste of time--time better spent coming up with prose. If you want to get better at writing...read a lot and write a lot. If you're still in school, then pay attention during English class. It's that simple.

A writers' group can be a good thing, if what you want is to receive positive reinforcement on a regular basis, and to build a sense of community with like-minded individuals. No problem there. Everyone needs support from time to time.

However, if you're serious about becoming a professional writer, there's not a whole lot a group can do for you besides making you feel warm and fuzzy. It's a lonely business, and if that bothers you, then it might be time to reassess your goals.

My advice: Find a ruthless editor (preferably one who already writes for a living) who likes to use his/her red pen. Work for him/her for a few years to build your chops. Learn about self-discipline. Learn about deadlines. Learn about rewrites. Humble yourself. Test the waters in a variety of markets. Even if your dream is to write best-selling horror fiction, inquire at local publications about their freelance needs. Write a profile for your alumni magazine. Review a restaurant for the local paper. Get used to the idea of writing as a vocation--like building a house or fixing cars.

At some point--and it probably won't take that long--you'll find out whether you can cut it. If you become relatively proficient, the skills you use in your work-a-day writing world are the same ones you'll employ when composing your dream project. In the meantime, you can build a satisfying and successful career as a working writer. There are worse things.

Easing Back Into Things

I'm trying to establish a rhythm and get back into the writing groove. As my fellow writers know, there's nobody better at making excuses for not doing what they're supposed to do than writers.

For example, you don't generally see accountants, teachers or professional baseball players taking time off to "deal with other things" or "find themselves."

Not so with writers. I present to you, Exhibit A:

Took some time to cool my heels. Moved to a new town. Bought a house. Remodeled the bathroom. Painted the walls. Helped edit Necrotic Tissue. Watched that beloved market, along with several others, go the way of the dodo. Turned thirty. Blew up a microwave oven. Anyhow, that's a long way of saying that I've been lazy in terms of the whole word-count-generation thing. I think part of me knows that when I go in on the writing life, I go all the way in, and it tends to dominate my thoughts. I wish I could compartmentalize, but I never can. It's what I love to do, and with so much going on, I got scared.

Having said that, I'm ready to jump out of the frying pan...

One of my first forays back into the writing-and-publishing world was sending an old story (that had promise) to a relatively new market, One Buck Horror. Though I received a rejection (even THAT felt good--like an old pair of shoes), I'm here to tell you that it's a solid market (pro pay! they still make those???) and I highly recommend downloading a copy. As the name indicates, it's only a buck. I'll crack into it someday.

I've also signed on to edit a few novels for my former NT colleague, Jodi Lee, over at Belfire Press. Good times so far.

Last, but not least, I recently submitted a story to a reprint anthology. One of my favorites. Written at a time when I was almost brand new at the game and wrote with the abandon only someone who has no idea what he's doing can muster.

Like a character in that story, I'm creeping my way down the hill and under the bridge...where the old obsessions live.

Feels good.

Horrorology is Live

Wow. It's been a long time since I've shared any publishing news with you. So, I guess it's about time.

Wanted to mention that Horrorology, an antho from the good folks at Library of Horror Press, is now available at Amazon. The book features my story, "Imitation of Life."

Like "Chums," it's a story that features fishing. What can I say? I went through a phase.

Speaking of "Chums," it's set to be featured in the "best-of" Necrotic Tissue anthology later this summer. More news on that as it comes my way.

Now...I think it's finally time to write some more horror stories. It's been a great past year for living the writing life (editing over at NT, landing some great interviews/producing a magazine for the day job) but I think it's time to revisit some of those dark ideas that have been knocking around in my head.

End of an Era

The latest (and, sadly, final) issue of Necrotic Tissue is now available. It contains one of the most profoundly disturbing shorts I came across during my tenure on staff. Pick up a copy and see for yourself.

On Amazon