This One Time, At Writer's Camp....

It’s been close to a week now, and my brain is somewhat recovered, so I think I can detail my thoughts and feelings about my very first NECON!

One quick note before we get started: most pictures here were taken by Tony Tremblay, who acts as NECON’s unofficial photographer. If it’s an awesome shot, he gets all the credit, not me. I was just the subject.

A Dose of Reality

I'm going to do something that, as a guy, I'm not supposed to do. I'm going to admit that I, like many, many others, suffer from mental illness. Specifically, I deal with Chronic Depression with General Anxiety Disorder.

Let me get this out of the way right up front: I'm not making this post seeking your pity or your sympathy, nor am I doing it to try and increase my sales. Beyond that sentence, I don't intend to mention any of those topics again during this post. I AM doing it to help shine a light on it, and to let people know they're not alone if they are also dealing with it.

Storytelling in the Strangest Places

While I was taking a break from writing to get my head straight, one of the things I did to fill my time was catch up on my gaming. Not tabletop, this time, but rather video games. I've been a fan of them for a long, long time, but life prevented me from getting into any good ones lately. Since I had the chance, I decided to try out some of the ones that I'd been hearing lots of good things about. As a result, I found two in particular that really struck me as having some immaculate storytelling that drew me in just as much as any book or movie or television show could.

People have been saying for years that video games are the next generation of immersive home entertainment, perhaps even poised to overtake TV and movies. With storytelling like these two possess, I can definitely see it.

Scares That Care V: Healing By Helping

For a horror author, at least one with a similar mindset to my own, there is one event every year that eclipses all others. That event is the Scares That Care Charity Weekend, held for the fifth consecutive year at the Doubletree by Hilton in Williamsburg, VA from August 3-5. Like last year, I went, and since I'm somewhat recovered from it--enough that I can think coherently, at any rate--I figured it was time to recount my experience there, and also to reveal the reasons behind my radio silence for the last few months, and how attending this horror family reunion helped me finish crawling out of a pretty dark place. To make everyone's life easier, I'll save the really personal stuff for the end, so you can skip it if you so choose to.

This was my second time attending Scares That Care, but that didn't mean it felt any less exciting or fun than the first time. Sure, maybe I had more of an idea what to expect this go-around, but that only enhanced my anticipation leading into it. My friend, Joe, who went with me last year, was unable to do so again, but I managed to convince my wife to come along, so I had the added excitement of introducing someone new to the wonderful event that is that convention weekend.

All in the Name of Relaxation

Sometimes you just need to get away, even if it's just for a night. The real fun comes when even your escape refuses to let you free from the stress you were trying to avoid.

I'll explain. As a caution, this is a long post, though I think you'll find it amusing enough. Looking back on it, I certainly do....

A while back, I saw that Brian Keene was going to be at ConNooga in Chattanooga, a pretty easy 2 hour drive for me. I looked at my day job schedule and finances, and found that it was possible for me to go, as long as I went on Sunday, the less expensive of the con's three days, and (at the time) the one day I had off from the day job. Two hours there, spend some time hanging out and such, and then two hours back. A fairly easy day trip.

Exploring the Great Divide

Garbage. Unsatisfying. A waste of time. Audience rating of 53% on Rotten Tomatoes.

And yet also:

Awesome. Incredible. The epic we've been waiting for. Critic rating of 96% on Rotten Tomatoes.

I'm talking, of course, about The Last Jedi, AKA Star Wars Episode VIII, AKA the newest divisive chapter in the long-running saga. What amazes me is how there seems to be absolutely no middle ground in reactions this time, aside from a very, very small few. I find it interesting enough that instead of doing a review for the movie like I intended, I'm going to try and explore the possible reasons for this, as a fan and a storyteller. For the record, yes, I saw it and enjoyed the hell out of it. That said, I do understand why some fans may not care for it. I hear your complaints, and am going to try and address them here.

Or I'm just going to talk out of my ass for a little while. You decide.

Fear not, I have kept this all spoiler-free as far as The Last Jedi is concerned. All the others are fair game.

You'll Float, Too: My Review of Stephen King's "IT: Chapter One"

Adapting a novel to another medium is no easy task. Add in a previous adaptation that has achieved a level of cult success, and things get even harder. When the work in question is from Stephen King, a man whose career is littered with a series of hit-or-miss (mostly miss) adaptations to the screen, the task might even start to border on the impossible. Finally, consider that the source material is a whopping 1,000+ pages, and many would prefer to give up before they even begin. The odds are almost guaranteed that you'll produce something closer to Maximum Overdrive than you will to Shawshank Redemption or The Green Mile.

Thankfully, IT gets it right.

There's a balance to adapting a novel to a visual medium, be it comics or television or movies. The printed word allows you to get inside your character's heads, to be the character in a way. Since a book can be as long as it needs to be, the story can be a slow-burner to develop the characters and the world and the problems. Movies and television have a set amount of time to tell the story, so often such luxuries fall by the wayside. In Hollywood, it's generally accepted that 1 page of script is the equivalent of 1 minute of screen time. A thousand hours is longer than most television series ever get, much less a movie. So how do you adapt it, and do it right?

By getting to the essence of the story and the characters, and not spending a large amount of time on the fluff.

Real Ghosts from the Past: The Story Behind THE JOURNAL OF JEREMY TODD

Every story starts somewhere. For CONSEQUENCES, it was a local legend from my high school days. For THE JOURNAL OF JEREMY TODD, it starts more recently, but it does dig into things that happened as far back as middle school for me, and also digs into things that keep themselves hidden in the dark recesses of my mind, only coming out on occasion when I’m feeling especially vulnerable. Writing the story helped me to deal with those to some degree, and hopefully writing this “story behind the story” post will help me finish exorcising them. Will it get rid of them? No, they’ve been there too long, and have become a part of who I am. But hopefully they’ll lose what little remains of their sting, and that’s more important, anyway.

Since JEREMY TODD has only been out for a couple of weeks now, I’ll try to keep this as spoiler-free as possible for those who haven’t managed to get very far into it.

One of the themes in JEREMY TODD is bullying, and how victims of bullying deal with it as they get older. This is the first and only time I’ve ever gone into a story with even that much of a theme in mind. Usually, I just have the story idea and then I write it. I might find something during edits, some subconscious thing that crept into the story somewhere along the way, but it’s never a conscious decision. This time, it was. Everyone has their hot-button topic, the thing that sets their blood to boiling until the rage is nearly strong enough to consume them. For me, that topic is bullying.

How I Spent My Summer Vacation: Scares That Care 2017

This year, I decided to check out the Scares that Care Weekend in Williamsburg VA. When I first announced I was going to attend (as a fan this time around, not as a working author), I had several people ask for me to give a run-down on how it was and what I thought of it, so that’s what this is. If you’re curious about a first-timer’s experience as a member of that strange mid-ground world of both a fan and a writer, read on. If not, well, feel free to skip to the pictures and then move along.

A quick note on said pictures: most were taken as I met folks, and being a writer, authors are where most of my attention fell this weekend. There are some groups on Facebook where you can see the awesome cosplay pictures from the con, as well as the other actors and movie guys, so feel free to check those out as well.

Thursday

GPS declared this to be a ten-hour trip, so my friend and I decided to leave the Nashvillle area at around four in the morning (Central time) in order to arrive at the hotel just as it became check-in time. The trip actually took eleven hours, and neither of us got much sleep the night before, so Thursday already had all the earmarks of a strange and interesting day before it even got started.

Partners in crime! With Somer Canon.

The only event for Thursday night was Scaryoke at the hotel bar, so after kicking back and trying to relax, and grabbing a bite to eat, we headed from our hotel down the street to the Doubletree where the convention was being held. Almost immediately I ran into Somer Canon, whom I’d become Facebook friends with, and got the chance to finally meet in person. As I stood there having a beer and chatting with Somer and her husband, Kane Hodder decided to start messing with me over the length of my hair, and proved he is one of the funniest and nicest assholes in the business. Kane managed to pull C.J. Graham and Steve Dash into the joke, too, meaning I had not one, but THREE Jasons giving me shit. Kane promised this would be going on all weekend, and I had no doubt he was sincere. Want to insult me? Go for it. I took shit from Jason Freakin’ Voorhees, okay? You got nothin’.

Much Can Change in a Month...

If you’re not interested in a personal post, you might want to skip this one. If you’re only here to check up on the progress of my writing or things of that nature, you might just want to skim it. If, on the other hand, you’re actually interested in me as a person and not a writing machine, stick around. You just might learn something.

As I write this, it’s my forty-second birthday. My age and the answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything are now the same (kudos if you caught that reference). I’ve already talked about how my life changed over the last year in regards to writing, so I’m not going to rehash that. What I AM going to do is talk about some of the other massive changes my life has undergone, and most of them in the last month.

Some of you may know or have picked up on the fact that I quit my day job earlier this month. I wish this was because I was earning enough from writing to support myself, but that’s not the case. Actually, the reasons are more important than that.

I’m one of those people who won’t go see a doctor unless I’m at death’s door. I don’t know why, that’s just how I’ve always been since I got old enough to make the decision for myself. Well, shortly after the New Year, I broke down and went to get checked out. I was diagnosed with high blood pressure several years ago, but like an idiot, I stopped taking my medication for it. Things became stressful at the day job, with people showing up to work when they wanted to and things of that nature, which only made my health issues worse. To cope, I was self-medicating to some degree, up from the normal couple of beers or so I’d drink while writing to killing a fifth of scotch or bourbon in a couple of days. I was smoking like a chimney, and generally doing everything I could to kill the stress I was feeling. The problem was, I was killing myself, too. My heart had started beating so hard it was nearly coming out of my chest, and to say I felt miserable would be an understatement.

So, afraid I was going to have a stroke or a heart attack literally at any moment, I broke down and went to see the doctor. Ever hear the old adage your life changes in an instant? I understand that now.

Let me get this out of the way right up front: I’m not dying. Well, no more than any of us are, at least. That doesn’t mean I don’t have things to deal with, though.

They took my blood pressure five times over the course of that two-hour visit. The average reading was around 140 over 110. In case you don’t know, that’s the danger zone, folks. I was informed that had I not come in, I would have most likely had that heart attack or stroke within a week’s time. They did an EKG right then and there, and didn’t like what they saw. I was put on some heavy-duty medication and told to come back in a week. They also scheduled me to have an ultrasound on my heart, which I did. The end result was that my left ventricular and aortic chambers were enlarged, and I have a slight murmur. I was, in effect, killing myself, and being quite successful at it.

I did some serious soul-searching that night after I got home and filled my wife in on my stupidity to that point. I realized quite clearly that if I didn’t make some serious changes in my life, I wouldn’t have a life to change for very much longer. Change number one: the drinking went from borderline alcoholic back to reasonable again, FAST. A beer or two a day? Fine. A normal-sized Scotch or bourbon every now and again? Still okay. My wife even told me I am allowed to have a glass of red wine every day, should I so choose (since red wine’s good for the heart; what a kick that I only liked blushes and whites, isn’t it?). Going to bed half-drunk (if not fully drunk) every night? Over. Done. Not happening.

Change number two: the smoking. I haven’t quit, but I’ve cut back. I’m evaluating options for how best to quit altogether, and will be putting those into action within the next week or so.

And change number three: quit the stress-factory that my day job had become.

For those of you who worked with me or just wondered why I’d done that, there’s the reason. A bit more complicated, but that’s it in a nutshell.

Now, maybe it seems insane to leave a job I’d held for nearly seven years, and that not only paid my bills but kept me insured. Why lose my health insurance during a point in time where I obviously need it the most? Well, my stress levels dropped almost immediately, that’s why. I’d rather fret over trying to figure out how to pay bills and medical expenses than keep making reasons to need that stress in the first place. Money stress is one of those normal, everyday things we all deal with. The rest of it wasn’t. And without the rest of it, the money stress doesn’t seem nearly as bad anymore.

There’s been good stuff, too. Most of it after I started trying to get myself back on track, funny enough. Less than a week after leaving the old job, I had a new one. That has proven to be a stepping stone to another job, that will have a more stable income, and benefits down the line, if not immediately. I had a wonderful response to a story I submitted to an anthology (that I can’t talk about at the moment), and while I didn’t make the preliminary ballot, I did end up on the reading list for the Stokers—off a self-published debut novel I didn’t expect to do anything at all. I’ve actually felt closer to my family, and have learned to appreciate my life more. Maybe it was a horrible way to get there, but emotionally and physically, I feel better than I have in a very, very long time.

So why make this post? Let me be clear about one thing: I am NOT looking for sympathy. I did this to myself, so it would be pretty foolish to expect anyone to feel sorry for my stupid decisions. If you want to pray for me, or send me good vibes, by all means do so. I’ll take all of both I can get. But don’t feel bad for me. I made my mistakes, caught them, and am trying to correct them. That’s just life.

No, I’m making this post so maybe it can serve as a warning or a help for others. I am living proof that you shouldn’t muck around with your health. If something’s wrong, get checked out. If your job is killing you, find something else. Life is too freaking short to subject yourself to a slow suicide.  There will never be a point where you are completely worry-free, so don’t even try for that. Just try to make those worries as small or compacted as you can. Find something to make you smile and hold onto it for all you’re worth. Simply put: don’t just exist in life, actually LIVE it!

Okay, I’ll step down off the soapbox now and wrap this up. I think, ultimately, I made this post because I needed to point some things out to myself, to take stock in a public way so there’s no chance of me lying to myself down the line. I did it to clear the air and dispel some rumors that flared up at the old day job after I left. And I did it because, well, I’m damned proud of the changes I’ve made in the last couple of weeks. I wish I hadn’t been forced into making them, that I’d simply come to them naturally, but things happen as they’re supposed to. All I can do now is capitalize on that.

Thanks for sticking around through this, and I’ll talk to you all again soon!

A Strange Day, A Strange Reality

It’s a strange day in America.

As I write this, the country is waking up to a new president-elect, one that so many expected would be nothing but a blip on the radar as election night results came in. That blip became an all-consuming one, though, and suddenly—understandably, in many cases—people were forced to see that the country wasn’t what they thought it was.

The arguments have already begun, the fingers are being pointed as people try and figure out how it happened. We are experiencing our own version of Brexit, where everything indicated things would go one way and now that they’ve gone the other, no one is quite ready to accept it or believe it. Maybe in another four years, or eight, or maybe even more, this will fade, once the future arrives and we can reflect back on everything, but for now, it’s still very, very raw.

I'm not all that surprised that things turned out the way they did; this was always a possibility, no matter how remote it seemed. But that so many people are shutting down, closing themselves off, and generally refusing to be anymore. Facebook is never the most wholesome environment, but as I’ve scanned the posts in my feed today, I can’t help but be amazed at how bleak it’s become, how despondent, how utterly devoid of hope and joy. The rest of social media is the same, and the feeling is that it’s not just people’s online behavior that’s been affected. Hate is running rampant, hate and fear, and that’s the tragedy here.

I do understand this to some degree. People had much of themselves invested in this, one way or the other. There are many people rejoicing today, just as there are many who are in mourning. Emotions are high. Some need a chance to heal, to process, to come to whatever acceptance they’re able—if they’re able at all. Others feel vindicated, and need the chance to express that vindication publicly. In many ways, we're experiencing something akin to the shock after 9/11: the country had to process what happened in whatever way they could, good or bad, and then it began to move forward again.

What I hope is that we will see the same thing happen now that happened then. After the initial shock wore off, people pulled together, ignored their differences, and stood united against the common enemy. There were fringe elements, of course—there always will be—but for the majority of the nation, we stood as one. For what might be the last time I can remember, we felt like the United States, and not a bunch of people with their own agendas, all our differences set aside for one brief, uplifting moment amidst the turbulent storm we endured.

As I sat glued to the television, night turning to early morning, watching returns come in, I took one thing away from it all above everything else. We are not a united nation. We are a nation that is dramatically divided. Race, class, creed, morality, distrust; everything is on the table. The things that brought us to this point cannot be laid at the feet of any one thing; to try and do so is a disservice to the reality we all witnessed unfolding. The only way to fix it is to come together like we’ve done in the darker moments of our nation’s past, and go forth together, united as one people, no matter what our background or heritage.

I’m not deluded; I fully understand that is much easier said than done. But it is the only way we can come through this without destroying ourselves.

If you’re one of those people who need to heal and to process, please, by all means do so. Take the time to find the strength within yourself that you’re going to need in the days and years to come. Come to remember what you were so passionate about in the first place, and please don’t let your voices stay silent for long.

If you feel the need to gloat and revel in your victory, one of the great things about this nation is that you have every right to do so. But please understand that hate and intolerance have played a large part in bringing us to this point. You must be willing to find common ground if the country is to heal itself and move on. You don’t have to agree with what someone else believes or thinks or feels, you just have to accept that they believe it or think it or feel it. Differences aren’t all bad; it’s the uniqueness of every individual person that grants us such potential for greatness. You can dislike what someone does, but remember that they are still a person, too, with hopes and dreams and feelings, just like you.

Things look bleak today, but they will only remain that way if we let them. Let’s not do that. 

Everyone talks about how much they love to be an American, so let’s get back to the key word in our country’s name and become the United States once again.

One Week: The (Not-So) Glamorous Life of an Indie Writer

Even for only having one book out, I've heard the fun comments: wondering why I have a day job still, or the ones that really set my blood boiling, that writing can't really be that hard. That kind of thing. So in the interest of showing just how glamorous and "easy" it is, here's how my week has gone so far:

Sunday: Work at the day job, so try to spend a little time with the family beforehand. That's tough, since I didn't get home until 1 AM from my shift the night before, and was enough of a glutton for punishment that I decided to write anyway. Not that it wasn't worth it, mind you. Just makes it tough to get up early. Get home from the day job at about 10:30 PM. Change clothes, grab some Scotch, head outside to write. Check Facebook / Twitter / Goodreads for anything going on and to wind down, end up in bed at around 3 AM.

Monday: Day job again, but did get to relax some beforehand. During the shift, have to deal with employees doing stupid things that won't be resolved tonight, and will drag on to the next day: something to look forward to (and yes, that's sarcasm). Get home at 10:30, Scotch and writing. The Scotch flows a little heavier this time, since I'm stressed. Answer some emails regarding something I'm working on (that will be revealed in a couple of weeks), set up to mail out a signed copy of Consequences, then in bed around 2.

Tuesday: Admin day at the day job, so in early. Get things done, deal more with the employee issue and discover it will drag on another day before it's resolved, but at least it's not a hard night after that. Home around 11. This time it's just beer during the writing, which is easier. In bed around 2 again, but not as stressed as the day before.

Wednesday: Off day from the day job, but I feel like crap thanks to the weather change here, which means I'm nowhere near as productive as I should be. I manage to get some work done on the thing I'm vaguebooking, but that's about it. That night is my weekly tabletop gaming night, but I feel so bad I can't really enjoy it. No writing today, but at my publicist's request I do get Skype set back up so I can be on some podcasts she's setting up. Wind up chatting with a friend on Facebook for a while to wind down. The conversation goes well, so not in bed till like 4:30. Still, while my head is stuffed up, I feel less stressed, so that helps. On the plus side, the issue with the employee at my day job reaches a resolution, so there's that at least.

Thursday: Second day off, and a bit more productive. Wake up at 9AM to deal with a couple of minor crises at home, then back in bed in 9:45. Finally wake up for good at 2. Coffee, then more coffee. Get some more things done on the vaguebook thing, and get to spend some family time. Actually feel a little better. Start putting things together to take care of the things around the house that are falling apart due to my insane schedule. Finally get to watch a movie with the wife and kids (The VVitch, which was incredibly awesome, by the way), and munched on some pumpkin pie, the first stage of my acceptance that summer's gone and fall is here. Back to the writing, then discuss the SP with the person helping it, then a FB chat with a friend. Since I slept so late, not in bed till 4.

As I write this, it's Friday, and things for this whole weekend are looking to be interesting. The signed book arrived damaged beyond belief, so I get to do the insurance claim on it, and send another copy. Sending the copy I don't mind; dealing with the post office on an insurance claim, yeah, that's going to suck. Back to the day job, so I'll get home around 1 AM or so tonight, and will work on the SP a bit before going to bed. Probably no social media this time, since it looks like I'll be pulling a double at the day job tomorrow. As a result, I'll get home at 1 AM tomorrow and just collapse into bed. Then it's Sunday again, and the entire process will repeat itself.

I wish I could say this is unusual, but it's not. This is actually a fairly typical week in my life. Why the day job? Because I need to pay my bills. Maybe in ten years, or more, I'll be able to write full-time and only keep a part time job to help with expenses, but remember, I'm just starting out, and didn't go through a traditional publisher to get there. "But I thought your book was doing well?" It's been well-received, and has sold more than I expected it to, that's true. But it's one book. Royalty payments aren't going to be that awe-inspiring on one book.

Besides, the money was never the point. If it was, I wouldn't have done it to start with.

So why do it at all? Why subject myself to this if I'm not making money hand over fist? Simple: because this is my passion. This is my calling. Simply put: this is what I want to do. I'm a storyteller; it's what I was made for, so I do it.

Here's the thing: I'm at a point in my life where I can do it this way. I have a wife that understands my compulsion, and supports it. I have kids that are a little older, so they are okay with me doing this, and also support it. I have a day job to pay the bills while I pursue my dream. Do I want to sustain myself on this alone at some point in the future? Absolutely. But I know that takes work to get there, and I have no problem at all in doing it. After all, aside from the time I get to spend with my family and friends, I find myself most at peace with the world while I'm sitting in front of the computer with a blank page before me and a story pouring out of me.

If nothing else, that alone would make it all worth while.

Random Musings: A General Update

It's strange to look at the posts I've made on here the last month or so and see mostly reviews for other folks, and notices on the Summer of Consequences Publicity Tour, and little else. Don't get me wrong, neither of those are a bad thing at all; it's just a little surprising considering what I expected this blog to be when I first started out with it. So if you'll indulge me a little selfishness, here's a snapshot of what all's going on with me right now.

First, I want to explain why all the reviews. It's simple, really. Since I published Consequences, I've discovered how supportive the horror community is. Doing all these reviews is my way of paying that back somewhat; no more, no less. Plus, I read a lot, so why not toot the horn for some of the great books I've had the privelidge of enjoying the last little while? To that end, there's another one coming later this week, and I'm sure there will be many more in the future.

On the publishing front, Consequences has been getting rave reviews, which still blows me away. I never expected this kind of reception when I put it out there, but I am eternally grateful that it's done as well as it has. To think that I managed to break the stereotype of self-published books being poorly written, poorly edited, and therefore poorly received is a relief. And there's more on the horizon! The Journal of Jeremy Todd is currently expected to be released by Sinister Grin on June 1, 2017 (though that can change, in either direction). My short story "In the Moonlit Forest Glade" will be coming out in Full Moon Slaughter, edited by Toneye Eyenot, from JEA Press probably in October. And, to top it all off, I'm working on something now that has me kind of excited. I'll say more when I know more, but keep your eyes peeled for an announcement pretty soon.

I've also been writing like crazy. The killer catfish tale that started as a joke is now finished, as you've seen if you monitor my progress bar. Mudcat ended up being much different from what I expected, hopefully in a good way. Time will tell. It's currently simmering while I work on other things, awaiting the time I start in for the second draft. Alone in Babylon, my post-Apocalyptic tale, is nearing its end as well, and I'm a little sad by that. I really connected with my main character here, and am not looking forward to letting him go. Unfortunately, that's how it works. I've reached the point where I know how the story ends, which means it won't be long now before I type "The End" and move on to whatever's next. I'm thinking something a little lighter in tone for the next one, and have a couple of ideas, so we'll see what pans out.

My self-edits have taken a bit of a back seat as other things play out, like the secret project, and changes at the day job, but as things begin to settle back down, I'll be getting back to them more consistently. I'm currently working on the second draft of Off the Beaten Path, with a long-overdue edit to the third Cochran book, Blood Games, to follow.

Speaking of the Cochran series, Demon at the Window is still making its rounds through submissions, so hopefully I'll have some news on it soon.

And that's pretty much where I'm at right now. Lots going on, but it's all behind-the-scenes stuff that translates to a waiting game. I do have some more meaty posts rattling around in my head that I just need to sit down and write once I have the time. Until then, thanks for stopping by, and keep checking back for more as it comes!

"Why Horror?" - The Question Answered

One of the questions I’m often asked when people find out what I do is one I’m sure everyone working in this genre has had posed to them at some time or another: why horror? Invariably, the question comes with one or two facial expressions as well, and there’s very little wiggle room between them. Either we get a look of genuine and excited curiosity, or one of abject disgust and judgment. I’m going to attempt to answer that question here, if for no other reason so that when I get asked again, I can just point them to this post and call it a day.

First, let me say what this post isn’t.  This is not to be taken as me defending myself for anything, mainly because I don’t see anything I need to defend myself for. While I don’t discuss it much, I am a spiritual and religious person, and therefore the only person to my mind that I might need to defend myself to is God, and thanks to Ron Kelly, who went through the same thing and offered me some advice and guidance in that regard, I believe that He and I are good on this.

On that topic, this is also not going to be a religious-based argument on the merits or failings of writing horror. Maybe the time will come when I do make that post, maybe it won’t, but this ain’t it.

What it should be considered as is my personal answer to the question of why I write horror. Nothing more, nothing less.

Now that we have that out of the way….

For me, there are two reasons why I write in this genre, one fairly simple and straightforward, the other not so much. Let’s deal with the easier one first.

Stephen King once famously said that we make up horrors to help us deal with the real ones, and never more has this been evident than now. Take a moment and scroll through your Facebook newsfeed, or turn on your favorite cable news channel and spend a moment or two reading the headline ticker. You don’t need to take long, just five minutes should be enough. Go ahead, I’ll wait.

You back? Good. Now let me take a guess at what you saw.

Election coverage is generally first: Hillary supporters calling Trump a demagogue racist bigot, Trump supporters calling Hillary a crooked lying establishment crony, and if the receiving party doesn’t like what the originating party has to say, the receiving party is welcome to unfriend or block them. Racial tensions in the country at levels that rival pre-Civil Rights Movement days, and it’s all Trump / Obama’s fault. All guns should be banned. This gun is mine, you can’t take it away. That Confederate flag is racist, take it down. This Confederate flag is mine, you can’t take it away. You can’t use that particular bathroom. Your way of life and perceptions of it are wrong, and my thoughts are the only ones that are valid. You can’t say that, someone might get offended. Black Lives Matter, All Lives Matter, No Lives Matter (thank you, Nihilists).

Then there’s the harder stuff: terrorists wreaking havoc, blowing something up somewhere, or decapitating someone on live video posted to the internet. North Korea declares war on the US because we targeted their precious supreme leader for sanctions over human rights issues. This many dead here, that many dead there, one kid killed themselves because of bullying, while another decided psychopathy was cool and slit another kid’s throat for no reason at all.

The bottom line is that the world is now a scary place to live, and the internet’s filled with anger and hate directed not at the targets that deserve it, but the people who should be standing side by side against those things. Somewhere, George Orwell and Aldous Huxley must be shaking their heads.

If, like myself, you try to be a generally positive person, it can quickly become overwhelming.

Writing—to a writer, at least—is a form of escapism just like reading or television or movies or video games. Is it any wonder, with the things we’re bombarded with on a daily basis, that we also use it to try and make sense of the insanity and horror all around us?

I feel I should also point out that not everything’s bad all the time. I’ve read posts on Facebook, and seen news stories on television or in the paper that made me laugh, or generally just acted as a ray of light among the darkness. Ironically enough, many of those are from fellow horror writers (looking at you and your Twitter feed, Somer Canon, and your constant words of encouragement, Jaime Johnesee), so take from that what you will.

The second reason I write horror is a little harder to explain, but I’m going to try. The best way I can think to do it is to ask a question in return:

Why do you think I have a choice?

Fiction writers are a strange breed. We don’t see the world the same as you, because we can’t help but witness events through our own unique creative lenses. Here’s an example:

You see a man and woman, sitting close, smiling at one another atop a hill, trees swaying gently in the breeze behind them. This is all the spark a writer needs for a scene. The thriller writer knows they’re from opposing governments, and one or both of them are probably selling secrets. The suspense writer knows one of them is a criminal on the run. The romance writer knows this is only the beginning of a whirlwind relationship that will be fraught with tragedy before they live happily ever after. The fantasy writer sees the dragon swooping down at them. The sci-fi writer sees the UFO hovering above, about to abduct them for experimentation. And the horror writer sees the maniac creeping up through the woods, about to slaughter them.

I’m generalizing, of course, but that didn’t stop the fact that I saw the maniac first before I wrote the other possibilities.

I grew up watching reruns of the Twilight Zone, the Outer Limits, and Tales from the Dark Side. I also loved the old fifties Hammer horror stuff that occasionally ran on TV, if I was really lucky. I read King, and Koontz, and Barker. As I got older, my tastes shifted. I enjoyed the slasher movies not for the story, but for the magic of “how did they do that?” I was an only child, so books were my constant companions, the splatterpunks and Tolkien, and the aforementioned Orwell and Huxley, and countless more. I loved ghost stories around the campfire, and “real” hauntings and the like. When I got older and the bug hit me to start making up my own stories, what else was I going to write?

Could I write other stuff, different genres? Sure. Do I think it would be as good or as rewarding to me? No, because my heart wouldn’t be in it. I’d be doing it to please someone other than myself, and that’s all. One of the best rules I ever heard when it came to this craft is “write the books you want to read”. That’s all I’m doing, for good or for ill.

And as to that look we get when the question comes up? Look, I get it that horror’s not for everyone. I’m not pushing you to read it. All I’m saying is don’t judge us by what we write. This community is one of the most welcoming I’ve ever seen anywhere, and to a person the other authors and publishers and publicists and the like I’ve interacted with have been nothing but open, helpful, and encouraging. To me, that makes them good people, and I’m proud to be numbered among them.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go and deal with some of today’s headlines in my own special way, then look at funny nerd memes until it’s time for bed.

One Year Later: My Life in Writing So Far...

On July 5 of last year, I sat down and wrote the opening lines to what would eventually become Consequences. This wasn't the first time I'd tried to write something, nor was it the first time I did so with an eye toward publishing. It was the first time I'd done so with the mindset that if I wanted to make a go of this, I had to treat it seriously, not as some idle pastime to give outlet to the creative juices roiling in my mind. It would be my second job, and that meant I had to dedicate a substantial portion of my time to it. I had no idea whether or not it would be worth it, but the decision was made: I had just turned forty at the start of the year, this was what I wanted to do with my life, and I'd put it off long enough.

Over the course of that next month, I felt my mind opening in ways I'd never imagined. Treating writing as work (albeit fun work) gave me a discipline that I'd been lacking in my previous attempts. I refused to take a day off, sitting down at midnight most nights and writing until the chapter I was working on was finished. There were days where I was nearly exhausted at the day job, but to me, that was a small price to pay.

When the end of July came around, I looked up and discovered that I'd not only maintained that discipline, I'd slam-dunked it. I typed "The End" right at a month after I started, and was amazed that I'd finished an 85,000 word first draft in such a short period of time. More shocking, I had an idea for another one. I didn't take a break, didn't give myself time to breathe, I just went right into that second book. At the same time, I started revising Consequences, using a red pen to mark up that manuscript, then taking one of my days off at the day job to actually enter the edits, write the new scenes, or revise the ones that weren't working.

August crept to a close, and I'd not only managed to do two full passes on the Consequences revisions, I'd also finished the second book. This was the point where I sat back and started seriously considering what I wanted to accomplish, since it was becoming obvious even to me that after so many false starts, I might actually be able to pull it off.

I had no extra money for publishing, but I knew that was the end game. While the industry had made leaps toward allowing someone to independently publish a book for little to nothing up front, I still wanted to do it right. If that didn't pan out, well, I could always do it myself later.

So I set some goals. First was that Consequences would see the light of day, if not that year (2015), then definitely the next. There were others, some of which I've yet to hit, some of which I've exceeded beyond my wildest imagination. But there was one that I was positive I would end up missing: that considering the pace I was going at, I would finish twelve first drafts of different novels in the next year.

I rethought that one as it became clear that trying to do edits and still spend time with my family and continue holding a full time day job would eventually make me slow down. So I backed it off, and set the goal at ten. It was still a stretch, but at least it gave me the chance to breathe a little. Still, I wasn't sure it would happen. Especially when things started rolling with independently releasing Consequences, and the submission and eventual acceptance of The Journal of Jeremy Todd (which, if you're curious, was book four in this mad dash). As the year turned, and I ran into the "books that wouldn't freaking end", I was sure that was a goal I would miss.

Until last night.

Because that's when I typed "The End" on the tenth first draft in a year.

When that happened, I started thinking back to those goals I set a year ago, and what all I'd accomplished since then. Consequences  was submitted, rejected, and then independently published. Against the stereotype, it has received generally favorable reviews from people whose opinions I respect. Did it hit the sales figures I'd hoped? No, but does any book ever really do that? Considering how little it turns out I knew about the process, I feel fortunate to have the sales I do have, and even more thrilled to have the reception it got. Besides, as any real writer will tell you, while we do enjoy the paycheck, that's not why we do this.

I signed a contract with one of the best small presses in the horror genre for what may have been the hardest to write of all the things I've ever done. You'll see it sometime around the middle of next year, from the awesome guys at Sinister Grin.

I found a publicist who has been exceptionally patient with me, and has taught me so much about what happens once I hit the "publish" button. Thanks to her, I doubt I'll make the same mistakes the next time that I did with Consequences. You can learn a lot reading things online, but to find someone who is friendly enough to actually walk you through the process, even before you've officially hired them, is a rare thing indeed. Erin's one of the most incredible and open people I've ever met, and I'm thrilled that we've started our burgeoning friendship and what I hope will be a long professional relationship as well.

And one of the biggest things, something I never anticipated? I've discovered a horror community that didn't just tolerate me, but actually welcomed me with open arms. Some of the most incredible men and women I've ever met who are right there in the trenches alongside me, plugging away at their craft with a passion and dedication I've never seen anywhere else. Folks who are always there to celebrate your successes and help pick you up after life knocks you down. People who don't just support each other as colleagues, but as family. Are they household names? Not really, but that doesn't matter. They (I suppose I should say we) are the ones who aren't doing it because of a six-figure book deal. We're the ones who are doing it because it's what we love, and because we'd go insane if we didn't (though there are a few who's sanity might be questionable anyway, but in a good way). Some of these people have been influences on my own writing, and I can't understate the honor I feel to be counted among them, much less how humbling it is to be sharing a publisher with some of them next year.

That, if nothing else, has made all those nights with almost no sleep worth it.

One year down, and what a year it's been. I'm not crazy enough to try and set the same writing goal for the next year. Seeing the stack of revisions I need to work on is starting to terrify me, truth be told. But I've still got goals, and I have no plans on stopping any time soon. If this first year's been this incredible, I cannot wait to see what the future holds!

A Learning Experience

It's official: Consequences is now available as a paperback and eBook. You can use the links in the New Releases section or on the Bookshelf page to get it if you're so inclined.

Getting there was... interesting... to say the least. But at least I learned a few things, so the next time I self-publish a book, I'll have a better idea what to do. Here's a few things I figured out.

• CreateSpace doesn't have any easy way to set up pre-orders or pre-releases. As soon as I approved the proof copy, it was live on their e-store and on Amazon less than an hour later, ready for sale. A full week earlier than I'd intended.
• It's hard to plan a release date when your Expanded Distribution isn't consistent. When I set up the title in CreateSpace, I selected not only Amazon, but other distributors as well (Barnes and Noble, for example). Almost a week later now, and it still doesn't show up for purchase in any of the expanded channels. It will, eventually, but I have no way to know when that will be. It also doesn't help that CS doesn't update you when it is ready on those other channels, so I just have to keep checking. Not a big deal, just something I wan't expecting.
• As they say in the Boy Scouts, "be prepared". As soon as I announced a release date, I had requests for signed copies. Since I use a POD distributor, that makes a lead time for any copies I order. Hence, it takes nearly two weeks to get copies in, signed, and out to the people who paid for them. Something else I didn't factor in.
• In connection to that, some reviewers want print copies instead of digital ones. Since I have to order them, that adds time I could be using to send them out.
• Listing on Amazon isn't flawless. Supposedly, if you have a paperback and Kindle edition, they'll automatically link up within 24-48 hours. That didn't happen. It wasn't a big deal to get it done, mind you, just something I hadn't considered.
• Apple takes forever. I used Draft2Digital for submission to B&N nook, Kobo, and iBooks. I set it up for pre-order (which I can do with all digital editions, just not the paperback), and within a couple of days had confirmation that it was up on nook and Kobo. Apple iBooks? Still waiting. And the wait time isn't consistent with them, either, so I have no idea when it'll be up. The hope is that once it goes live at midnight tonight, it'll propagate, but I have no way to know for sure. That's annoying.
• Have a marketing plan ready BEFORE releasing. Even if it's just where to send review copies, life gets so much easier when you know how to promote it. This time, I waited until it was out to start working on that; I won't be making the same mistake again.

All of this can be attributed to it being my first time doing this, so I'm not freaking out about it. It just means that next time, I'll have a better idea of how to do things, and in what order. And even with the issues, it's finally out there. I have fulfilled my dream of getting a book published. I've held it in my hands, and I won't lie, I giggled as I opened the box it shipped in.

So I'm living proof it can be done. I won't say done successfully, because time will be the one to tell on that one, but I pulled it off. If anyone's curious how it was done, here's what I used:

• The cover was designed using Creative Commons License images from freeimages.com and pixabay.com, a commercial friendly font, a template from CreateSpace, and GIMP. Oh, and a LOT of time learning how to put it together.
• Paperback formatting was done in MS Word. There's tutorials all over the net, but the bottom line is: learn to use the Styles bar. It will save your life here.
• I lucked out and had someone volunteer to do the eBook formatting for me, but it was done using Sigil to build it, and Calibre to convert it to Amazon's preferred format.
• As you probably figured out, I went through CreateSpace for the paperback printing and distribution, as well as the ISBN registration. It takes some learning, but it's not that bad, and the books have looked awesome so far. Just wish the offered a pre-order option...
• For Kindle, I went direct through Kindle Direct Publishing. It was a one-page form for the book information, and a second page for pricing and distribution, and that was it. Extremely easy, just make sure you format according to their guidelines.
• To get everywhere else digitally, I used Draft2Digital. They were also pretty easy to use, though I can't speak to royalty distribution yet. I'll update once I know.

Notice something about that list? It's all freely available. Sure, you can pay at almost every step of the way to get packages and the like, but if you're not afraid to do the work yourself, you can do it at no charge. That said, allocate some money for print proofs, ARCs (Advance Reading Copies), final copies for signing, and some money for postage. Set up a PayPal account to collect payments for signed editions, and it might not be a bad idea to look into pricing for marketing, if you don't know what to do on your own.

Oh, and cross your fingers. Hard work will take you a long way, but it doesn't hurt to have some good breaks along the journey!

Capaldi is Officially My Doctor: A Season Nine Review

I debated on holding off on this until after the Christmas special, but since that traditionally counts as part of the following season, I’ll just go ahead and do it now. Partly because it’s fresh in my mind, and partly because since the Christmas special isn’t going to connect to the rest of this season, it should be judged on its own merits.

Oh, and before I forget: "SPOILERS!"

Which makes it sound a little like I’m going to not say very nice things, but that’s not exactly the case. This season was a complete mixed bag, if I’m honest. There was plenty to like, but there was plenty to not like as well.

That being said, I guess I can start with some overall impressions.

This season was different for the reboot in that we got multi-part episodes for the first time. This actually turned out to be a good thing, despite many Saturday nights spent cursing at Stephen Moffet for those cliffhangers. It was a return to the Classic era, where storylines might be broken up over several weeks before the payoff. A perfect example, and one with ties to this season as well, is the Fourth Doctor’s Genesis of the Daleks arc, which was a six-parter when it came out.

It needed this, though. It allowed the stories to breathe, to suck us in and make us care about not only the Doctor and Clara, but about the people they were helping as well. This was an advantage for the Classic Who, and it was put to good use here.

Another high point: Peter Capaldi. From the moment we saw him on that tank playing guitar, we knew he was proving his ownership of the role. And for the majority of the season, he continued to do that. This season was the one where Capaldi officially became my Doctor. After that speech at the end of The Zygon Inversion, how could he not?

Unfortunately, for all the good there was some bad, so let’s go story by story and break it down.

The Magician’s Apprentice / The Witch’s Familiar: We were off to a massive start here. Michelle Gonzales was back as Missy, Davros returned, and we had a reference back to the aforementioned Genesis of the Daleks. The story played perfectly and enhanced the relationship between the Doctor and the Master / Mistress as well as showing why Davros is the Doctor’s archenemy, not his Time Lord counterpart. That Davros could play on the Doctor’s guilt and compassion in order to trick him into giving him what he wanted showed not only the Doctor’s inevitable fallibility, but Davros’s own genius as well. THIS is the man I could believe made the Daleks.

And learning that no matter what a Dalek said they felt, the machine they are in forces it to come out as “Exterminate!” was brilliant. Weapons fueled by pure emotion. For a Dalek, there is probably no greater threat.

On the other hand, this was where the first crack appeared in the overall story for the season. The prophecy of a hybrid was mentioned. The issue isn’t that the prophecy existed, mind you. My initial reaction that someone would create a Time Lord / Dalek hybrid was that it would be unstoppable and worth fearing. The problem was that Missy mentioned it in what felt like a throwaway line that indicated it was a massive, all-important thing. If that’s the case, why are we just now hearing about it for the first time in over fifty years of Doctor Who? All that time the previous Doctors spent on Gallifrey, all the angst 9, 10, and even 11 felt, and this never comes up? I think I could have even handled it being an expansion on the Valeyard from the Classic era, really make a connection back, but it was a standalone that felt a bit out of place here.

Otherwise, a great start to season 9!

Under the Lake / Before the Flood: The Doctor Who ghost story. Again, a well thought-out and executed story, even though it felt like it was better suited for seventy minutes rather than ninety. Seeing how the Doctor used his ability to play with time to solve a mystery was nice, and it took him away from Clara and allowed Capaldi to fly on his own for a while, too. Again, brilliant.

The Girl Who Died / The Woman Who Lived: Maise Williams guest stars, and while it was strange at first to see Arya Stark in the Whoniverse, I managed to get over it quickly. She was able to show that she is quite a capable actress, and quickly managed to win me over as Ashildr. It was also nice to see how the Doctor’s best intentions could backfire, as he saved her life, but at the cost of her soul. A strange sort of vampirism, maybe? Still, to see him create an immortal who would come back to haunt him later on was a nice way to show that he shouldn’t meddle so much, but he’ll never stop.

And while it was rewarding to see the matter of Capaldi’s appearance in the Tenth Doctor’s The Fires of Pompeii addressed, and why that face was chosen, it felt like a bit of a let-down once it was all said and done. Still, they didn’t just ignore it like it could have been, so thanks for that. I just wish it had been more… impactful.

The Zygon Invasion / The Zygon Inversion: The story of returns, and on reflection one of the better stories of the season. We referenced back to the Fiftieth Anniversary Special and the Zygon peace treaty, we got the return of UNIT, Kate Lethbridge-Stewart, and best of all, OSGOOD! At first it annoyed me that they didn’t let us know for sure it was the human version that was back, but once her personality reemerged in the second part of the story, I was willing to forgive them for that.

And that speech. Here we see the Doctor that lived through the Time War, who consigned two races to death or exile from the universe, and who understands more than any living thing what the ravages of war can do to someone. This is not the fun Doctor of the Matt Smith era, nor the emotionally scarred one of the Tennant era. This is what Eccelston’s Doctor would have been like if he never met Rose. This is the War Doctor, one step removed. And honestly? He’s terrifying. If there was anyone I would never want to cross, it’s this man.

The only real bad thing I can think of from this story is that the Zygon weapons turned people into electrified Brillo pads. Still, it hearkened back to the man-in-a-rubber-suit days of the Classic era, so I can overlook that as well.

Sleep No More: The only standalone episode of the season, and it felt like it. The concept of a monster made from the crust in your eyes after sleeping was a good one, and it also had the distinction of being something new for the series. I would have liked to have seen it expounded upon more, especially considering how disjointed the episode felt as it rushed through toward a conclusion. 

It stood out for that, and that’s not a good thing.

For the finale, I’m going episode by episode, rather than the arc as a whole.

Face the Raven: We all knew this was Clara’s last run as the Doctor’s companion, and for many it was a season too long. And here it was: the moment of her last hurrah. Or so we thought.

The setup felt like just that—setup. Its only purpose was to put Clara in position to meet her end. And Ashildr’s only purpose was to provide that. I would have almost preferred to see Missy play this role, but considering who was behind it all, that wouldn’t make much sense. No offense to Maise Williams here, but this felt like an excuse to include her character. At least it felt better here than it did later on, but I’m not there yet…

Clara’s death was actually well-done. For too long now, fans have been complaining that Clara thought she was the Doctor, and it was somewhat satisfying to see that it was this very flaw that got her killed. It was a fitting end for the Impossible Girl, even if the season-long foreshadowing felt a bit heavy-handed.

And the Doctor’s response to it, his statement to Ashildr that he had been lost long ago, showed a man who knew such a thing was inevitable yet was powerless to stop it. He knows he’s playing with fire, but does it because it’s his nature. He knows his limits as well, and knew Clara would never understand that concept. When he teleported out to meet his fate, he did so with anger burning inside him again, and that could mean serious trouble for whomever was meeting him on the other side.

Heaven Sent: That he was meeting himself, in a sense, was the perfect answer to that. This episode had moments of brilliance and a concept that was well-worth exploring. As a fan of his performance, I loved it: stick Capaldi in front of a camera and let him go nuts. Awesome.

Then we get to the ending.

This is the single most confusing, convoluted mess I have ever seen in Doctor Who. Timey Wimey? This is so far beyond that it doesn’t even warrant its own amusing catchphrase. Is the Doctor really the Doctor anymore, or a clone of himself? Is he over four billion years old now, or still the same age he was when his image was trapped in the teleport? And does Stephen Moffett even know? Somehow I doubt that last one. I think this was a case of throwing something against the wall to see if it stuck.

And it was all about this suddenly all-important prophecy of a hybrid? Of all the Doctor’s enemies, of all the reasons why someone would do this to him, we went with that? If you say so, but you can do better.

We all know the Doctor is unstoppable, but to show that he’s so stubborn he won’t even die properly has already been done before. Remember The Stolen Earth / Journey’s End? Shot by a Dalek, regenerated into the same face he already had. The Time of the Doctor? GOT TWELVE MORE REGENERATIONS! His tenacity is already well established. Let’s not beat a dead horse for four billion years here.

And yet, that ending. He was in his confession dial the whole time. Brilliant. The desert planet, panning up to see the city in the distance. Back on Gallifrey, at long last. Again, brilliant. “Tell them I’m back. Tell them I took the long way ‘round.” I’d run, what about you?

So. Much. Potential.

And yet….

Hell Bent: Clara’s alive and in the same diner where Eleven brought Amy and Rory and River after River murdered him? Okay, what? Must be in his head, right? Still, loved the guitar version of Clara’s theme.

Back on Gallifrey, back where he and the Moment changed the planet’s fate. When he drew that line in the sand and then ignored everyone who came for him until Rassilon himself showed up, I was cheering. When he faced off against Rassilon and told him to “get off my planet”, again, cheering. 

Then we’re back on the hybrid bandwagon. He’s willing to tell them what they want to know, only he needs someone’s help.

Clara’s.

Seriously?

You would think the Doctor never lost a companion before. Even the revived series has addressed it. Rose: trapped in a parallel dimension that is sealed to time. Ten got over it. Donna Noble: had to have her memories wiped or her brain would fry. Ten dealt with it. Amy and Rory: displaced into the past, which then becomes time-locked. Eleven coped.

But when Clara dies because she wasn’t smart enough to know she wasn’t the Doctor? He loses his mind, hijacks his homeworld, shoots one of his own kind and forces a regeneration (and can I just point out that they handled it a lot better than the Doctor ever did, despite having nowhere near the experience with it that he does?), kidnaps a dead woman, and tries to bring her back to life.

Again, seriously?

He then steals another TARDIS and takes her to the end of time itself where Gallifrey’s burning and who’s sitting there watching it happen? Not Missy, though in this case I insist it should have been. Ashildr. She lectures him on his stupidity, which was brilliant. His plan is to do a Donna on Clara and make her forget him so she can live a normal life. While that was a stretch, I can at least accept it.

Then it goes haywire and made me curse at Moffett for the wrong reasons.

Clara overhears, because naturally, and reprograms the neural device so it will work on him instead. He doesn’t believe her, and tells her they’ll take the chance together.

This could have been salvaged at this point. He begins telling her goodbye, and then she collapses. He’s visiting her at the diner in Nevada as a final farewell. That would be the best ending.

But does that happen? No. Clara manages to outsmart the Doctor, steals a TARDIS of her own, and flies off with Ashildr. In effect, she becomes the Doctor, even with her own companion.

No. Just, no.

Things began so well, then went wildly off-course. The season had its moments, namely those where Capaldi proved the role was his and who were those guys named Smith and Tennant anyway? We got stories that felt fleshed out and full. We got Osgood back, and Missy who was awesome as usual.

We also got a random rumor about a hybrid and Clara becoming the Doctor like she already thought she was, despite this already getting her killed.

And lest I be accused of Clara-bashing here, I'm not. Really. When she showed up as the new companion for Eleven post-Amy and Rory, I was willing to give her a chance. I ended up liking the entire "Impossible Girl" story arc, even if it did come off a little Mary Sue at times. When Eleven regenerated to Twelve, it made sense for her to stick around, give a little familiarity while all of us got used to the Doctor's new face along with him. It was here that she started to almost overshadow the Doctor, and since he's the titular character, that's not good. Had they left her alone at the end of Last Christmas, having aged without the Doctor, I would have been fine. She just held on a season too long, that's all. Her entire character arc this time around was "I'm just as good at being the Doctor as the Doctor, so watch what happens." No, you aren't, and it should have gotten you killed. The only reason you survived is... well... bad writing.

River Song is back in the Christmas Special (the interestingly named Husbands of River Song), and next season introduces a new companion altogether which means it’s a fresh story again, so this can be redeemed. Just please, for the sake of us who love the show, don’t play fan service with yourself anymore, Mister Moffett. Give us back the Doctor / Companion relationship that made the show work for over fifty years. Let the character not only think he's the most clever person in the room, but show it's the truth.

Above all, remember there’s only one Doctor.

And for now, thankfully, that’s Peter Capaldi.

Ramblin'

This one is something different for me, not simply an update on where I'm at with the writing, but a full-scale catch up on me and the things I've posted about on this blog before. In other words, a whole bunch'a ramblin' just because I felt like doing a post.

First, the writing. As you can see from the progress meter, Blood Games is officially done with the first draft. The Cochran books are now an official trilogy. That won't last long, because book four is on the horizon once I finish the current project, but it's still an accomplishment, right? I am now working my way through the first draft of Hidden Heart, the haunted house story I had in mind. This one is pretty tough, but in a good way. I think. See, it was always meant to be subtle. Sometimes I have a hard time with that. I'm eight chapters in now, and honestly not a lot has happened. Some things have, enough that the reader will realize there's more to the house in question than the current owner does anyway, but the poo hasn't hit the rotating blades yet, to modify a phrase. Soon, I think, since we're closing in on the end of the first act and the start of the second, but not yet. Hopefully everyone will like it once it's finished, as it's a complete change of pace for me. I guess we'll see.

I've been sick the last couple of days, so I didn't get much done on the editing front, hence no change to the progress meter for it. I tinkered with both One Last Dance and Homecoming, but not enough to amount to anything. Hopefully I'm over whatever bug this is in the next couple of days so I can get caught up there.

Still no response on either of the two submissions I have out there. I did reach out to a friend on Facebook who's going to school for graphic design about a cover for Consequences should it come to that, but I'm still holding out hope for a good response from one or the other.

Let's see, what else is going on...

I guess the biggest news is that I'm trying to quit smoking again. I went to vaping, since my primary motivation was a desire to keep my chest from hurting so bad whenever I woke up every morning. So far, so good. I've been doing it for about three weeks now, and I've reached the point where regular cigarettes taste like crap. Three days now, and I've only gotten my nicotine fix through vaping. I also managed to drop from the 18mg of nicotine that I started on to 12mg currently. Hopefully I'll be able to drop that again soon to 6mg. I don't know that I'll drop all the way to 0, but it's been a huge improvement so far. I can actually breathe now, and that's really what I was hoping for all along.

On the geeekdom front, I finally got to watch Jessica Jones on Netflix, and I have to say I'm impressed. I'm not as stoked for a Luke Cage series now since I kinda got my fix for him with this one, but at the same time Marvel is doing well with their mature-themed series. The little nods to the MCU make it even better. If only DC could catch a clue with Arrow, Flash, and the upcoming Legends of Tomorrow. But I've already made that point, so I'll move on.

On the DC front, Arrow and Flash are both turning out strong seasons, with Flash easily getting over the sophomore slump and Arrow taking things in a new direction with Green Arrow and the addition of mysticism to the universe. Have to say, so far the highlight was seeing John Constantine show up in Arrow using the same actor from the cancelled Constantine. Love the actor in that role, now someone needs to pick the series back up and do it justice.

I caught the first episode of Supergirl, and while it wasn't what I expected, it was far from being bad. Still, a superhero show nowadays needs to do more than just "cute" to work, at least for me.

I wasn't too sure about this season of Doctor Who, but they finally won me over. The two-part episodes felt like a throwback to the classic series where it might take six episodes to tell one story. On the whole, it's been a strong season, with only one or two episodes that made me feel "meh" about the whole thing. We got Osgood back, and in a way that made sense, and Capaldi has proven beyond any doubt that he IS the Doctor. His speech at the end of Face the Raven actually sent chills down my back. And last week's strange, mindbender of an episode was the perfect intermission between the events of Face the Raven and the potentially massive season finale coming up this Saturday.

Ash vs. Evil Dead. What can I say? It's Bruce Campbell as Ash, it's got the Necronomicon, deadites, blood, gore, and cheese. It's thirty minutes of heaven every episode.

The last trailer for The Force Awakens actually got me interested. I still wish they hadn't canned the entire EU (although there's truthfully not a lot I'll miss from it), but I'm willing to give it a chance, and I'm going to be standing in line in a couple weeks waiting to see if it lives up to the considerable hype.

The Avengers 2.5... I mean the Captain America: Civil War trailer was incredible as well. I can't wait to see how this plays out, but they've got me involved either way. "I have to do this," Cap says. "He's my friend." "Yeah, so was I." Tony replied, his voice sad. Chills.

That pretty well sums me up for the moment. Once Doctor Who is done (including the Christmas special - can't leave out River) I'll do an overall season review on here. We'll see if I'm excited enough about Star Wars to do the same for it. Otherwise, I'll keep everyone updated on the writing progress and attempts at publication as the news comes in.

See you next time!

Where Did That Come From?

You are seeing things correctly. There is a new listing on the progress meter, it has never been up there before, and it is already listed as a third draft in progress. I can explain.

Back in 2005, I started what ended up being my first original novel. I freely admit I really had no idea what I was doing with the actual writing craft part of it, but I knew it was a story I wanted to tell. I finished it in 2006, a year and a half later, and then filed it away.

Some time passed, and I found myself working in a bookstore in a college town. Someone I worked with there, a lovely woman named Patti, was an English major and agreed to do an edit on the first draft for me. When I got the manuscript back from her, I was floored. Stephen King mentions in On Writing how he reacted the first time he ever saw one of his pieces of writing edited. All I can say is that reading is one thing, seeing is something completely different. And this wasn't even from a professional editor, just someone who knew what they were doing.

Out of the nearly 270 pages I gave her, maybe five did not contain markings of some sort. It opened my eyes to the process, and I was re-energized. I wanted to make this work. I started banking on it, to a degree.

Let me go ahead and say it now: while I thought I understood how the publishing industry worked, I truly had no clue. The other thing I neglected to take into consideration was that the economy was bottoming out due to the recession, and the industry was shifting into eBooks, which were nothing more than a novelty at this point. We won't even touch the fact that I was a first-time, never before published author who was expecting his first submitted work of any kind to be the ticket to fortunes. Bottom line, I was an idiot. But I digress.

I got to work and finished a second draft at the end of 2007. Thinking the book was as done as it could get (hilarious to look back at now, but that was what I thought), I pulled out a copy of the Writer's Guide and queried a bunch of agents. I did get one request for the full manuscript, which I sent off gleefully only to be told they didn't feel passionate enough about it to offer me representation. I know now that it was a polite way of saying it wasn't good enough.

Life took over, I got discouraged, and into a manuscript box and the depths of my hard drive it went.

Fast forward to now.

I sat down and wrote Consequences with the intent of trying for publication through a small press, or doing it myself if no one bit. While working on it, I realized that if I did self publish, there were these things called formatting guidelines to follow if I didn't want it to look like something a five-year-old threw together one rainy afternoon. Several people offered to do it for a price, usually $200 and up, but since I'm not exactly rolling in cash here, I decided why pay for it if I could learn to do it myself with a little work? Only I didn't have a finished manuscript to practice with.

So I dug through my hard drive and digitally dusted off Homecoming. As I worked on formatting, I realized there were parts of the book that weren't that bad. With a little polish, it might even be salvageable. Then I finished Consequences, moved on to Demon and the rest and forgot about it. Sort of.

It sat in the back of my head. See, this was my first, and you never forget your first. So I decided to conduct a little experiment. I was going to teach myself how to edit using Word's "Track Changes" feature, since any professional editor I use nowadays will be using the same method. In doing so, I was also going to see if I could breathe some new life into this old manuscript, maybe apply some of the things I learned in the intervening years and make it something I would be willing to put out there for other people to read and not wince any time someone brought it up.

The first step? Clean up. It took no time at all to realize that I had no idea how to properly format a manuscript, even in draft form, back when I started this one. Since I now use a Word template already set up with the styles I need for new projects, I copied and pasted the entire mess into the template, then spent roughly six hours fixing my old formatting errors. Once that was done, it was time to start playing Doctor Frankenstein.

I decided to go from scene start to scene break: make the edit notes, copy and paste it into a new document, then make changes. I learned a few things in doing this. First, I had no idea how to break chapters properly. Chapter one became chapters one and two pretty quickly. Same for two becoming three and four. I'm sure more will appear as I go, too. Second, there is definitely something to be said for letting something rest for such a long period of time before approaching it again. As I write this, I've got fifty pages into what is effectively the third draft but feels more like a complete rewrite. Out of that fifty pages, I've made 480 edit comments. On some pages, Word has to collapse all the notes because they won't fit in the margin of the page otherwise. Honestly, it's made me a little afraid to see what a professional editor would do to one of my manuscripts that I've already done four drafts on. Excuse me while I shiver uncontrollably for a second.

The third and fourth things I learned I'll put together, since they belong that way. I've gotten better at my craft since that first attempt. To my mind, the fact that I have that many notes in such a short span reinforces that fact. Everything I've changed, removed, reordered, or rewritten has made the story stronger. But that only makes sense, because like any other craft, writing can only be perfected through practice.

Homecoming was not the only thing I wrote in the years between when I first started it and when I developed the work ethic I have now with it. While I have no plans to give those stories the same treatment I'm giving this one (though I'm not ruling it out, either), I have a funny feeling that if I did, I'd be able to see improvement with each successive one. Since I got serious serious about this in July, I've finished four more first drafts and am almost halfway through a fifth. But there's even more than that, if you think about it. I did four drafts of Consequences before I submitted it, and I'm about to start the third for Demon at the Window, and am in the midst of the second for One Last Dance. That means, in a sense, eight complete books, plus two halves (first for the current one, second for OLD), so nine books since July. I'm not tooting my horn about being prolific; just reinforcing the bit about practice bringing improvements.

I have no idea if I'll be satisfied with the final result of this experiment, whether or not I'll call it a success or a failure, but it's definitely been a learning experience. I feel good about it, at least for now. So it goes on the progress meter. If it doesn't work, I'll remove it again. But maybe, just maybe, I'll be able to someday get to see that dream of having Homecoming with a cover and binding in my hands and yours.

Wish me luck!

It's a Novella...

...or at least that's what it's looking like.

When I started this new project, I was a little intimidated by it. I'll admit that. The vehicle the story was going to use was not something I was expecting, nor was it something I'm used to. I thought it might end up being a short novel, or a novella, and now I think I have some confirmation of that.

Let me define my views on the difference, just to make sure we're clear.

If you ask an agent, or an editor, or a publisher, or even an author what the difference is between a novel and a novella, you're going to get several different answers. Generally speaking, a novella is something that's longer than a short story, but not as long as a novel. It's a weird gray area between them.

For me, I tend to define things by word count. Here's my basic premise, and keep in mind that novel word counts get broken down further based on genre in my mind:

Short Story: somewhere in the neighborhood of 5,000 - 10,000 words;
Novella: between 30,000 and 50,000 words, give or take;
Novel: 70,000+ words.

Like I said, that's the basics. A short novel could come in at around 60,000 words, while a long short story could weigh in at 20,000 or so. I also mentioned that I take genre into consideration. Since it does apply here, at least partially, I'll give you examples:

Romance / Cozy Mystery: 70,000 words;
Thriller / Suspense / Horror: 80,000 words;
Science Fiction: 90,000 words;
Fantasy: 100,000+ words.

There are no hard and fast rules to this, it's only what I generally have in my brain.

Anyway, you'll see that I have about a 20k buffer between the basic designations. If the work falls into less than that, it takes the form of the next designation in the list. Since novels are broken down further by genre, that's what sets the actual defining point.

So using my method, this project, which I'm now projecting at around 60,000 words, and is classified as a Horror story, is 20k less than the minimum I'll consider to be a horror novel. Ergo, it's a novella.

But I won't get mad if you call it a short novel.

Confused yet? I am, and I wrote it. Note to self, one less beer before doing a blog post.

At any rate, I'm thankful for the shorter goal for two big reasons.

First, this first person narrative in the form of a series of journal entries is going to wear thin pretty quick. Maybe there are authors out there who could keep it up for the length of an epic, but I'm not one of them. One of the cardinal rules for writing as far as I'm concerned is to write what you yourself would want to read. While this structure would be interesting for a change of pace, it's not something I would do for a long stretch.

Second, this is perhaps the darkest thing I've ever written. I don't want to give too much away about it, like I said in my last post, but I will tell you a couple of things. First, I'm thrilled that it's so dark. If it disturbs me, and I'm the one writing it, I'm pretty confident it will disturb you guys, too. That's what good horror does, right? Disturbs the reader / watcher? Well, I think this will qualify. Also, I really don't like this guy I'm writing about. I feel sorry for him, but I do not like him at all. He reminds me of Carrie White in Stephen King's Carrie. The biggest difference is that I'm having to be inside his head to write his story. Not as a bit of narrative, as in King's tale, but all the time. There are no other POV characters to jump to for relief. This adds to the disturbing nature, so it's doing what I want it to, but I will be so glad to be finished with him.

Yeah, this is going to be a one and done. No sequels here.

Of course, I say that now and in ten years when the idea for a sequel comes to me this post will come back to haunt me, too. But I doubt it.

So, to sum up. It's going to be a novella, or, if you prefer, a short novel. The percentage jump on the progress meter is due to the revision of the word count goal as much as it is a reflection of the actual work done tonight. It's dark and disturbing, and I hope you like it once it's done.

As for me, I'm starting to look forward to the next Cochran book. I need a little lightness in my writing life sometimes, and Jack and Alexis are good for that.

Sorry for the long post, and good night!