The Journey II: Becoming a Juggler When You Can’t Juggle

Goals.  Everyone has them to some extent, but how many do we really reach?  I know I have a few for my writing and I’m trying to meet those goals everyday…or almost everyday.  A full novel?  Started.  A short story collection?  The pieces are being assembled now.  Novella?  Done that, but I’m working on another two right now.  You guys and gals out there reading this?  The fact I’ve been able to show you my work (and I hope you enjoyed it) is very humbling.  A few years ago, I started out with the goal of getting something, anything published and I met that goal many times over.

Is the writing the hardest part?  No sir, it is the juggling.

I’m not a very coordinated guy and it doesn’t matter how many times I’ve thrown those brightly colored balls in the air, I always seem to drop them.  For some reason, if given the choice to walk or chew gum, I couldn’t take both.  Life is like that as a writer.  You really want to have your cake and eat it too.  While it would be nice to make enough from writing to live off of, it is not the norm in genre writing.  If you get into this field to become filthy rich, you made a most unwise decision.

Did I choose it to be rich?  No, I started doing this to tell the stories churning deep within the dark recesses of my mind.  Have I made a lot of money?  No.  Have you made any money?  A little bit here and there, like Dollar Menu money.  Not full Value Meal cash, but a couple of dollar burgers to celebrate cash.

This is where this is going, if I can’t make a ton of green doing it, then why do it?  I love it.  What will I do for that love?  I work full-time, I write when I get home, and still try to be a visible member of our household.  That my friends can be a lot of balls getting tossed in the air all at once.  Do some hit the ground?  Of course they do, but I pick them right back up and put them in the air again.

If it is hard to juggle and the money isn’t there, why bother?  Well, I’ll be gentle about it.  Writing is a building process.  Stephen King didn’t start right of the gate with Carrie, he sold short stories to men’s magazines and any other place that would take them.  These are the building blocks that we build our foundation on.  When I get my foundation built, I want it to be solid enough where I can work part-time and be able to make up the difference with my words.

Am I a juggler?  Yes, and while I wouldn’t mind having fewer balls to keep track off, I’d be happy writing even if I had to remain as the juggler.

Goodnight…

My Writing Pet Peeve is…

…Editing.

There I said it.  I don’t like editing.  I’d rather have someone shove bamboo under my fingernails than sit through and edit something I wrote.  Honestly, when you think about it, I don’t think I’d ever grow to gleefully take the red pen of death to my work.  While I don’t enjoy seeing my stories torn apart, I have had to learn the necessity of editing to make the story the best it can be and that was a really hard lesson.  The first few stories I had accepted for anthologies really only edited for some small grammar points and spelling.  The further down the writing road I get, I see the game change.  As I’ve moved on to more publications that are paying markets with more competition, I’ve seen the editing done to my work become more critical.  Do I dislike it?  No, because I understand it.  It has helped me really step up my game when I write and rewrite.

Editors are there for a reason, but they would like it if you did your share before you blast their slush pile with a story filled with ‘their’ instead of ‘there’ and so forth.  In the beginning, I thought the editor only wanted to turn my steaming pile into a different steaming pile.  Now that I’ve lived and learned, I know they are there for the benefit of me and the work to ensure the reader is given a good clean and more enjoyable read.

If you haven’t yet, go and hug an editor, send them a message of thanks, and thank them again by doing your part of the work before you set them to task.  It is not a job I want, but I thank those who are brave enough, or crazy enough, to do what they do.

That about sums it up, except… go and check out The Siren’s Call eZine #8 (The Men of Horror Issue).  Inside is my little love story, “Do Us Part”.  It is free to download here at their site.  While you’re there, take a look at their back issues and see what is happening with a really cool press to work with.

And on that short pimpage note,

Goodnight…

Cigar and a beer? Must be a new Release!

The smoke has cleared on the ocean and the great ship swiftly sinks into the waters, an apparent victim of a German U-Boat.  But was it the Germans and why did the Lusitania get torpedoed during World War I?  The answers are not what they taught you in school…

They are much, much worse…

From Hazardous Press and Robert Helmbrecht comes a collection of tales that sheds some light on various points in history and tells you the horrifying truth.  This great book includes tales by such talented authors as Pete Aldin, Jason Andrew, Monette Bebow-Reinhard, Rose Blackthorn, Rebecca L. Brown, Deborah Drake, T. Fox Dunham, Gwendolyn Edward, Aaron J. French, Tara Fox Hall, Christian A. Larsen, Ken MacGregor, Lynne MacLean, Adam Millard, Douglas J. Moore, Doug Murano, Christopher S. Nelson, Brent Nichols, Emerian Rich, Stephen D. Rogers, Julianne Snow, Cameron Suey, Jenny Twist, D. Alexander Ward, Jay Wilburn, David Williamson and Lee Clark Zumpe.

I had a ton of fun writing “Winds of War”.  I hope you have a good time reading it and the other stellar stories in this collection.  It is available now on Amazon in paperback for you old school book lovers and on Kindle for you tech-savy folks.

Paperback copies can be purchased here (buy now).

Kindle version can be sent to your hands directly here (buy now).

The book is a hell of a good time and I hope you enjoy the stories!

Goodnight…

The Journey II: Acting Like A Professional

What do I mean ‘act like a professional’?  In the horror genre, it is well-known that the authors like to party.  I’ve said in the past that in the writing world, we are the kids who sit in the back of the literary world’s classroom and throw things at the others and lob spit balls.  Many in the field are known to really let it hang out at conventions.  I know at the few I’ve attended, I have no problem with throwing down tons of beer and smoking some cigars.  All of that is fine, but I’ve found recently that the rest of the time I want to treat this gig as a job.  This choice has made me change my approach to everything I do online and in public.

The more I put myself in the public eye, I want to make sure the image I put out there is a good one.  While I’m working on building a base of readers and contacts, I really don’t want to put myself out there as a rude guy with no self-control.  Starting out, I can’t afford to drive people away with how I portray myself on Facebook, Twitter, or even here on my blog.  There is a time and place for everything and knowing when those times and places are, I believe, will help me on my journey.  Believe me, there are times I have to really try hard to remain silent or to keep my comments and such toned down.  One day, I want to make enough writing to either quit my job or move to a part-time job.  If I want to fulfill this dream, using control in the public sphere has been something I’ve focused very hard on.

In the end, this is a business.  I want my work to carry me and not just the way I come off on the internet.  Every time I reread something, no matter how much everyone tells me they love it, I doubt if what I wrote is really good enough.  The fact that my stuff has been in over twenty publications to this point tells me I must be doing something right and it hasn’t included being a complete blow-hard on the web.  At the end of the day, it is all about branding and I want to grow my base naturally without being a complete ass or being so much in your face that it turns you off to my work or to me in general.

I hope everyone can understand where I’m coming from in this post.  I want to explain myself and how I’m trying to grow in this profession.  In the beginning of the post I called this a job, but it is a job I enjoy.  Even when I feel deadlines crashing down on me, I wouldn’t trade this for the world.  I’ve found the job I’m finally passionate about and I’m thrilled to have everyone hop on board this journey with me.

So my friends,

Goodnight…

In “The Compound” With Robert Ford

From the publisher:

Tartarus Federal Penitentiary is home to the worst violent criminals society has cultivated. It’s also a revolutionary modern-day fortress, powered by solar panels and built to be a self-sustaining environment, complete with dairy barns and green houses. It’s the perfect place to be when an experimental virus hits the American public, making the dead walk the Earth once again.

Two brothers become entwined in a deadly struggle for power among the crowd of prisoners that have overtaken the guards.

Divorced parents fight for survival, trying to find each other and keep their daughter safe from the growing number of zombies.

An old biker is a man on a mission, trying to fulfill a promise to his dead wife, apocalypse be damned. Both his will and his supply of ammunition will be tested.

As the survivors on the outside fight for their lives, their lines of fate converge, leading them through the crowds of zombies and forcing them into the hell of the prison to save one of their own.

Robert Ford has delivered a hit right out of the gate with his debut novel, The Compound.  From the beginning where a disillusioned General watches the world burn because of the Branch 14 virus, Ford takes the reader on a tightly woven tale that left me unable to put the book down until that final page.  As illustrated in the description above, the book follows the characters on their own paths as they find their way through a new and terrible world.  Without going into too much detail about the characters and their trials, each one reads like a person you know and can relate too.  A brother watching his sibling go crazy with power while inside a prison where the inmates rule, a father trying to find his ex-wife and daughter, and a man trying to keep a promise to his dead wife all grab you and stay with you long after you put the book down.

The book starts quickly with the Branch 14 virus getting loose and quickly spreading across the United States.  Once the virus is established, we are introduced to the main characters in short chapters placing them in the path of the newly risen dead.  Ford shifts the point-of-view around in short sweet chunks.  Each person gets time to grow and the chapter lengths aren’t long, but instead are small bite sized pieces that help to build the tension.  This is really used well when the action is focused on the prison as the action ramps up for its bloody conclusion.

Overall, the father trying to find his family during the zombie apocalypse has been done many times.  Robert Ford does take it and with his voice, makes it a new experience that doesn’t seem old and worn, but instead new and exciting.  The hardcover is sold out from the publisher, but it is available in eBook format (click here to purchase).  I highly recommend the book to anyone who loves zombie fiction or to anyone who wants to read a great book.

I am now pleased to welcome to the Arena for the “10 Questions”, Mr. Robert Ford…   

1.  Who is Robert Ford and how did he get here in his writing journey?

Oh wow. That is a long journey without a ring of power, I’ll tell you.
I grew up as an only child on a large farm in northern Maryland. My
parents worked a lot and my grandfather lived with us as long as I can
remember — he was the farmer on previously mentioned working farm —
and I was left to my own devices a lot. My mother kept buying me books
as a kid… I guess to occupy me and feed my imagination as well as so
she could get something done around the house. Little did she know…

I devoured books as a kid and rapidly worked my way up the ladder to
more adult fiction (a lot of which, my parents probably didn’t know I
read at the time), and one day I discovered a paperback of Stephen
King’s Carrie. That absolutely changed everything for me. I had
written short stories and poetry in school as far back as I could
remember and just kept on doing it. I was very lucky to have a string
of phenomenal English teachers that saw something in me back then and
kept urging me on.

Who am I? I am my own worst boogeyman.
I am a wearer of many hats… but to be honest, as much as I’d like to
answer this one, I’ve honestly got no clue who I am. You hear some
people say they’re really in touch with themselves and they “know” who
they are… I don’t know. Over the years I’ve started to think we’re
all fluid like quicksilver, forever changing and impossible to grasp
and maybe a little bit poisonous.

2.  The Compound takes place in a world where the undead walk and  
the inmates are running the prison. How did you research the prison  
life portrayed in the novel?

The prison in The Compound is a futuristic model, created with modern,
self-sustaining amenities to take the burden off of the American
taxpayer. To my knowledge, I don’t think a prison exists like this in
the real world, but I kept kicking around the what-ifs and arrived at
the design of Tartarus.

I looked over a lot of overhead views and layouts of penitentiaries
and prisons across the country, studying them for how secure they
might be, as well as how the hell I could break into one if I had to.
Like the old saying goes… if it’s built by man, it can be destroyed
by man.

For a while, I fell down a rabbit hole of research, reading a ton of
files and message boards and publications about… ehh… let’s say…
information that could be frowned on by the government. Thing is, I
HAD to read about this kind of thing. It’s the sort of information
that would come in handy during a zombie apocalypse. Homemade bombs,
survivalist booby-traps, weaponry, poor man’s silencers. The internet
is an absolutely scary wealth of knowledge.

3.  You are a very busy man between your writing and your Whutta (www.whutta.com 
) ad agency.  How the hell do you find time to write?

I gave up sleep about a decade ago.

It’s difficult, definitely not going to lie about that. My normal
process of research and pre-writing takes longer than a lot of other
writers I know, so it’s always been a struggle, but The Compound,
overall, was written pretty quickly for me. I hope I can continue this
trend.

4.  Samson and Denial was a fun romp through the streets of Philly  
with cults and severed mummy heads, but The Compound took a more  
serious tone dealing with the decay of society and the family.  Did  
the story always want to be a more brutal and serious novel or did  
it turn out that way organically?

Samson and Denial was completely character driven from page one and I
think Samson’s personality is truly what set the tone for that
novella. I knew it was going to be hard and fast-paced with some
twists the readers wouldn’t expect, but there would be undertones of
humor because Samson was the one narrating the story.

With The Compound, I had the opening scene from Chapter One in my head
for about six months before I knew what else happened afterward.
Without giving too much away to anyone who hasn’t read it yet, the
opening scene is supposed to be a light-hearted fun sort of moment
when all of a sudden, things start hitting the fan.

I think that’s what it would really be like if an apocalypse broke
out. I think most bad things that occur in our lives are like that.
You’re strolling along, sipping your Red Bull or playing Angry Birds
when all of a sudden, destiny throws you a curve ball and that happy
little secure pocket of safety you thought you had all along… well,
you realize that was all an illusion.

Death is always over our shoulder whether we want to admit it or not,
and in a communal life or death situation, I think we would see all
manner of breakdown in law and morality and a good portion of human
decency. There will be some who stand out, as there were a few in The
Compound that did — but whether they stand out for being good-hearted
or for utter brutality remains to be seen. I wanted to portray that
type of brutality the world would be like in a situation like that.

5.  What tops Robert Ford’s read pile right now?

This year, I have been scrambling so much I haven’t had time to read
nearly as much as I’d like to, but I have “White Picket Prisons” by
Kelli Owen, “Severance Package” by Duane Swierczynski, and a book
about Shamanism. Oh, and there’s also a tattered copy of Musashi’s The
Book of Five Rings, but that’s a gap-filler because I’ve read it so
many times.

6.  Seeing your first novel released must have been a huge high.   > What went through your mind when you came home and found a box on  > your porch from Thunderstorm books?

Paul Goblirsch is an absolutely amazing guy to work with. I really
can’t say enough about him. He was an absolute pleasure to work with
on Samson and Denial and when he invited me to pitch him some ideas on
a full length novel, I jumped at the opportunity. When I saw the
package on my doorstep, I had seen the cover art on-screen a long time
before that, but seeing and holding my first novel in my own hands…
yeah, that was a big deal. That Thunderstorm does such a beautiful job
on production and design is icing on the cake.

7.   While the characters in The Compound fought for their lives 
around Tartarus Penitentiary the Branch 14 virus was spreading.  Are 
there any plans to return to another area during the outbreak or  
have you said your piece on the subject?

Ahhhh Brent, this question made a smile appear on my face. Here’s the
thing — I had never really intended to write a zombie novel at all. My
fiction has always tended to be more about human monsters, with a
little twist thrown in for good measure. But the idea came to me and I
thought it would be fun and it took off. Along the development of The
Compound, the character Calvin popped into the story out of nowhere—I
hadn’t had an idea of him at all until the day I wrote him onto the
page—and he became one of my favorites.

There’s a lot of things I’ve got lined up first, but I definitely
can’t rule out revisiting this world. As things were wrapping up in
the final chapters, I kept wondering what Calvin’s motorcycle brothers
were doing elsewhere. I don’t know the answer to that question yet,
but if I ever find out, maybe you will too.

8.  What does Robert Ford have coming up for the readers to devour  
next?

I’m finishing a novel right now that’s out of the horror genre titled
No Lipstick in Avalon and it’s a huge departure and for a very
different audience than what I normally write. It was just one of
those ideas that came to mind and a character that wouldn’t shut up in
my head so I sat down one day to write a page or two in an effort to
quiet the thoughts down a bit on the matter. No dice. It only got
stronger and thirty thousand words later, here I am. There’ll be more
information released about that as I get closer to wrapping it up.

But next up in the horror genre, I’m working on a novella–Big Stakes
Jackie—that I had written some notes on and forgotten about. I came
across the notes a while back and laughed as I remembered just how
disgusting some of the things that take place really are. I had the
opening idea a long time ago and it never fully fleshed out until
recently.

After “Big Stakes Jackie, it’s a bit of a toss-up. I’ve got a lot of
notes and research for The Crimson Sisters, which is a novel-length
sequel to Samson and Denial. I won’t reveal a lot of what will happen,
as it’s taking some turns as I flesh it out, but I’ll tell you the
opening line:

“The fucking midget was on fire.”

9.  This is not a question.  Welcome to “Pimp Yourself”!  Right here  
you can lay out where the good people can find and follow you my 
friend.

Haha!  I’m available on Amazon at:

> http://www.amazon.com/Robert-Ford/e/B004TA252S/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1

twitter
@bobford

> https://www.facebook.com/robertfordwriter

and the blog

> http://coronersreport.blogspot.com/

10.  There are a few writers who stop by here on their travels 
through the writing world.  What bit of Bob advice do you have for  
them tonight?

If you want to be a writer, then write. That novel/screenplay/short
story/novella isn’t exactly gonna write itself and if you really do
want to become a writer, you’ve got to heed the advice given to me by
so many others in the field: Ass in chair. Write. Repeat.

If not, you’ll end up being that person years from now telling someone
“Yeah, I had a great idea for a novel once.”

Don’t die with your music still in you.

Bonus Question:  Who wins in a drink-out?  Robert Ford or Ron 
Dickie?

Sweet mother of all that’s holy… I can hold my own against mortals,
but he’s CANADIAN for God’s sake! I think the only thing I could
outdrink Dickie in is probably tequila. Everything else he’s got me,
maple leaves down.  =)

I would to thank everyone for stopping by and a big thanks to Robert Ford for taking the time to stop by and chat!

Goodnight… (I know it’s day, but that’s the closing line regardless)

“Coming Soon to a Blog Hop Near You!”

“Coming to a drive-in near you this summer, three college students on the last night of spring break, will find out the road to Hell is paved with good intentions…and blood.”

Ah, the good old days of the movie trailer.  Believe me, there was really a time when the preview didn’t tell you the whole movie in a two-and-a-half-minute bit.  The preview teased and made you want to see the movie.  Alas, I’m afraid those days are long gone.

But fear not, thanks to D. Alexander Ward (go and check him out, this I command!) I’m here to give you a preview.  Think of it as the opening to a date with that special person.  You both snuggle together while the sun dips out of sight and the darkness creeps along the theater grounds until the projector fires up and brightens the night with its magic.  Writing really can be that dramatic and I’m here now to give you a peek into my mind and my work.  I’ll try not to lead you astray or to give away too much because to be completely honest, I want you to have questions and buy the book to see if your thirst for answers can be quenched.

So, sit back and dim the lights.  Relax and let me take your hand and give you a tour through my work, a Neverland of blood and betrayal.  Eat your popcorn and enjoy the show…

What are you working on right now?   At the moment I’m finishing up the last few chapters of my second novella, Southern Devils.  I also have three top-secret projects going on with other authors and my first full length novel set in the fictional town of White Creek has been started on.  There are also a few odd and end short stories, but I’m focusing on the big things right now.  Southern Devils is the opening of a trilogy and there are three other novellas or novels that I have written out very detailed notes on.

How does it differ from other works in its genre?  Southern Devils is my take on zombies and how the Civil War’s closing days was a battle between a resurrected group of Rebel soldiers and the Union soldier ordered to eliminate them and eradicate all trace of their existence.  The approach I took with the zombies was that they are driven by their mission.  They retain some of their humanity, but also must deal with the ramifications of what they’ve become.

What experiences have influenced you?  Since I was a child, I loved to write and make up really outlandish shit.  Once I hit about the age of 12, I was introduced to Stephen King and television shows like Tales From the Darkside, Monsters, and Tales From the Crypt.  From there the die was cast and horror became my game.  I did some writing in high school, but between everything else in my life at the time, it got away from me.  Now fast-forward almost 20 years and I’m finally taking my dream back and making a go at the writing gig.  So far, it has been a magical ride.

Why do you write what you do?  I like to explore the dark side of things.  That noise outside?  It’s a long-lost love come to give you a final goodbye kiss.  The voice in your head?  It’s the darkness in your soul begging for blood to spill so it can be released.  Horror isn’t just a genre for ghosts and vampires.  It is a genre that defines who we are deep down in the human condition.  What causes someone to go on a brutal killing spree?  We don’t really know what went on in that person’s mind, but it’s my job to be the voice of his conscious and once we start to listen to the little voice in the back of our heads…that is when the fun begins.

How does your writing process work?  Before I begin a new story, I jot some quick ideas down in one of my notebooks and I let the idea stew for a few days.  When I pick it back up again, I like to know the opening line and where I want the story to end up at.  I do admit, there have been some stories where the story took on a life of its own and became what it wanted to be.  I love those kind of stories.  There is nothing like hitting a point while writing and thinking, “Wow, I didn’t see that coming”.  As far as how I work, I sit behind my cluttered desk and I get some words in while I play on the internet

What is the hardest part about writing?   Finishing.  The hardest thing for me is finishing something once I start it.  I get involved with another project and I start to push things off and I tend to fall behind on the stuff I’m not committed to write.  I’ve been finishing Southern Devils for far too long and I get irritated with myself.  Some of my foot-dragging, I believe, also stems from the doubt issues that still creep into my head about a piece.  For example, no matter how much people have told me they loved In Memoriam, I will always think I could have done better and will mess with something until I want to rip it up because I don’t think it’s good enough.  I’m getting better about it and I’m gaining more confidence in my work with every new acceptance and every new review.  The thing that has gone the farthest in settling my mind is the other day a stranger stopped me and told me how much they loved my book.  When they followed about how they couldn’t wait to read my next one, my eyes damn near teared up.  It really put my mind to rest about my work and has really invigorated me since it happened.

What would you like to try as a writer that you haven’t yet?  That one is easy, I want to write a screenplay for one of my works or have a story of mine adapted into comic form.

Who are the authors you most admire?  The ones I admire the most are the ones who have been there with a piece of timely advice, a story about when they were starting, or those who take the time to help and encourage a new author.  In no order I admire for their words and deeds:  Brian Keene, Robert Ford, Kelli Owen, Tim Lebbon, James A. Moore, Christopher Golden, and John Everson.  Each has given me a new insight or a new way to see the field and I thank them all.

Who are new authors to watch out for?  There are three that I’m working with now that come to mind.  Each one has some work out there and everything I’ve read by them has been a fantastic read.  Go and check out Julianne Snow, Jason Darrick, and Dale Eldon.  You can’t go wrong with any of them and each one brings a distinct voice and subject matter to the horror field.

What scares you?  Failure.  I don’t want to fail in this and it drives me to keep improving and challenging myself to write better and have my work show how much I’ve grown and improved.  I also fear for the world I’m leaving my kids.  No, I fear for the world and what my kids will do to it if they have the chance…

Now, I was to give you three places to go and check out.  I’ve been tied up with work and other stuff that I can only offer you two authors to continue on this Blog Hop.  Next Wednesday, Jason Darrick and Armand Rosamilia will take the reigns over at there blogs and give you the answers to the burning questions above.

Stop back by Friday night when I give my thoughts on, The Compound,  the debut novel from Robert Ford and he stops by to enter the Arena and answers “The 10 Questions”!

Goodnight…

At Horrorfind 2011 at the signing table after my reading. Only one book and if I did it today it would be over twenty.

Some History for You…

Before we begin, the last post mentioned that the cover artwork for Hazardous Press’s Horrific History anthology had been revealed and now here it is for all to see (art is by Luke Spooner and you can go take a peek at his work at www.carrionhouse.com).  I dig it and I can’t wait for the book to be in your hands.  The tentative release date is April 19th and the line up in the TOC is amazing and I’m happy to be included with such a talented bunch of authors.

Below is the TOC (Thanks to Christian Larsen for posting the list!):

• “10 Weeks” by David Williamson
• “The Blackest Rite” by D. Alexander Ward
• “Dust” by Cameron Suey
• “The Fires of Hell and Avondale” by Julianne Snow
• “Fireweed” by Lynne MacLean
• “Giving Thanks” by Ken MacGregor
• “Junior LeBlanc & Katrina” by Douglas J. Moore
• “Lightning” by Monette Bebow-Reinhard
• “Lindisfarne” by Rebecca L. Brown
• “Lucan” by Adam Millard
• “Mud” by Pete Aldin
• “Plymouth, Born Again” by Christopher Nelson
• “Prettiest Things” by Emerian Rich
• “Scion” by Deborah Drake
• “Securing the Empire” by Jay Wilburn
• “Ship of Nighmares, Ship of Dreams” by Brent Nichols
• “Skin of Blue and Grey” by Christian A. Larsen
• “Skraelings” by Rose Blackthorn
• “Teedie and the Night Drive” by Doug Murano
• “Turning the Clock Back” by Jenny Twist
• “Under Azrael’s Banner” by Lee Clark Zumpe
• “Valley of the Dead Trees” by T. Fox Dunham
• “The Vercelli Book” by Gwendolyn Edward
• “Winds of War” by Brent Abell

“Winds of War” is the tale of how the US became involved in WWI with the sinking of a ship and our government never wanted you to know about it.  It involves vampires and they don’t love people, they eat them.  In a typical twist, I left myself open to a sequel at some point and I have scribbled a few notes which may or may not become a story at some point.  I do like the main character and there are some tales on the horizon featuring him and the Order he belongs to.

I am off to finish a rewrite on a certain pet rock’s story, so I’ll leave you now.

Goodnight…

The Journey II: Stages and White Chocolate M&M’s

 

In the last few weeks, the focus on everything has been shifting.  I spent the last two years getting my name out, writing for anthologies, and releasing that first solo work on the general public.  The time has  come for a new part of my journey into the writing world.  Last year I chronicled my experience concerning getting In Memoriam published in a series of posts called The Journey.  The next few months and years are about my new journey, the first complete novel.

In the past I’ve written some short stories and threw in some information about a place called White Creek, my fictional town where most of my work will take place for some time.  My goal is to write a series of shorts that will introduce the citizens, the town, and the things hidden in the town’s dark past.  Some tales have already been told.  In Memoriam is set in White Creek and introduces the Vineyard Church and the disgraced ex-priest who is their leader, a member of the sheriff’s department who will never be the same after the events in In Memoriam, and the bar owner who seems to be involved in most of the strange happenings in the town.  But wait, there is more to come…

That is only part of the journey however.  Southern Devils is getting ready to be sent out to pre-readers in the next few weeks.  The little white board in the picture?  It is about to be replaced with one twice that size to help me organize all the stuff I’m working on.  I have found it rather nice to have things other publishers want to read as well as the readers out there.  I am going about changing my writing regimen so I can keep all my WIP projects straight and keep myself going.

Random musing of the day:  Horror and writing are two things I enjoy and when they are put together they form an amazing thing.  When the magical bonding of the two form an idea in my mind, I love to get to work.  I also love M&M’s and white chocolate.  Unfortunately, they do not mix well and I’m heartbroken I do not enjoy the new M&M offering as I thought I would.  Thumbs down…

Do you know what I enjoy more than M&M’s?  Seeing the fruits of my labor out in the world and this past week my story “Tears of Heaven” was released in Grinning Skull Press’s From Beyond the Grave anthology.  It contains 19 tales of what happens to us when we die and what the afterlife holds for us in the end.  At the moment is available as an eBook at Amazon, but will soon be out in print.  So pick up a copy today here.

My writing life?  The first journey is complete and now I want to invite you to continue on down the trail with me.  The clouds are hiding the moon and the trail is dark tonight, but take my hand and we’ll find our way together.  The next few weeks I’m going to try to explain my self and what makes me tick, what I’ve learned, and what I still need to figure out.  This journey is about growth and here we go.

Goodnight…

 

My Angel

It’s February and love is in the air, so how about a nice story that looks at love and the price some pay for it.  This is part of another project and it is also the first time I’ve featured a story here on the site, so I hope you enjoy my bloody kiss to you!

WARNING: THIS BLOG POST CONTAINS MATERIAL AND LANGUAGE NOT SUITABLE FOR ALL.  IF YOU ARE OFFENDED, TOO BAD YOU WERE WARNED.

My Angel

Her cold blue eyes stare back at me from beneath the sheer silk sheet, shining in the darkness.  Since I walked into the room to bring her something to eat, her watchful gaze follows me.   Her eyes move back and forth like she’s a caged animal ready to pounce when I stop to lay her food down.  After her last attempt to strike out at me, I’ve chosen when I approach her very carefully.  I can’t get a read on my beloved, at times she’s frightened of me and other times she looks like she wants to rip me apart.

I know what I did is wrong, but I couldn’t help myself.

I’ll never forget the day I found her in the ally and fell in love.

I was cutting through the alley between 8^th and Madison on my way home from work like I do every day.  The rain was pouring down and the reek of stale piss and trash bins filled the air with a bitter twang that stung my nostrils, especially in the damp humid air.  I covered my head with a newspaper I’d grabbed from the lobby before I left work and my eyes stayed glued to the ground so I wouldn’t trip or step in anything unsavory.

Then I saw her.

She must have fallen and hit the paved alley pretty hard because she was curled up against the crumbling brick wall shivering and I spied some blood on her hands.  The white robes she wore were soaked and even in the rain, her raven hair shined in the dim lighting.  I kneeled down to roll her over and once I caught a peek at her face, I found myself enthralled and the sound of her voice when she cried out at my touch, captivated my soul.  At that moment, I surrendered my heart to her.

Hell, you know something?  I’d do it again in a heartbeat.  No matter what I’ve been through and the torment I’ve endured since, I wouldn’t change a thing.

I watch the shape of her sensuous body roll beneath the bed covers and I feel the stirrings deep in my loins again.  She has that affect on me, the ability to turn me on with just a glance like I was nothing more than a switch instead of a man.  I really hate keeping her here like this, I do, but it’s the only way to protect her.  If she were out in the world, I’m not sure they would understand.

And she does something to me I can’t explain.  I digress, I can explain it…I’m in love.

I think that’s why I keep her.

I know that’s why I keep her, no matter what she does to me.  Every time I study the blood drip like water from my pores and the holes appear in my hands and feet when she grows angry with me, I still crawl back to her and proclaim my love.  In those times of exquisite pain, she comforts me or I curl up next to her and comfort myself in the lonely dead of night before she shows me her feelings.

I suffer for her love and I shed my lifeblood to earn her devotion, my little sacrifice to her.

Isn’t that what love is when it all comes down to it in the end?  Isn’t it all just suffering with a pretty little bow on top so it looks nice to everybody?  She’s my world and I’d die for her.  I’m afraid if I did depart this mortal coil, we’d be separated by all of infinity in the afterlife for what I’ve done.  I’ve read through book after book trying to find a justification for my actions, but it all still comes back to love.  Plain and simple…love.

Am I going to Hell for what I’ve done to her?

Guaran-fucking-tee it.

I hear a low husky voice rise from the piss stained mattress.  It reminds me I need to change her sheets again.  Shit, I didn’t even know she could do that.  At first, I almost lost her because I didn’t think she needed to eat.  After I gave her that first cracker and a small sip from a water-glass, I think she started taking a shine to me.

“Release me,” she croaks and the raspy voice sends chills racing up my spine.  Her words are no longer the sweet golden chords she sang when I found her.  Now it reminds me of when we used to rake our fingers across the blackboard in elementary school.

Oh, if only I could have those days back again, to feel that innocent again.

“Release me cretin,” she hisses at me.  I gaze into her pale blue eyes and I see the anger rage within her.  If I undid the cuffs, I think she’d kill me.

Anger is another thing I never thought she’d have been capable of.

“No, not until you free me from this, this, whatever the fuck is happening to me!” I spit back at her and kick the bed’s edge.  The blood seeping from the hole in my foot leaves a crimson print on the box spring and splatters on the hanging sheet.

A smile of satisfaction crosses my lips watching her scramble back against the wall from me and she begins wailing again.  The high-pitched noise hurts my ears and hot streams of blood pour from my ears and my nose.

Her voice’s tone keeps changing.  When I found her, it sounded like a choir on Christmas morning.  Now it sounds like a dying meth addict looking for one last score or a cat mewling in its death throes.  Last night when I curled up next to her, I noticed her skin is changing too.  Once a porcelain white, her color is darkening to an ashen gray and when I brush my fingertips across her, it flakes off and leaves red marks behind.

Underneath, she feels almost scaly.  I think she’s becoming corrupted by my touch.  Her innocence is just about gone.  I keep hoping when she’s totally transformed, I’ll still love and lust after her like I do now.  Maybe her heavenly beauty is what drew me to her, but I like a woman with a dark side too.

FUCK!

Oh my God, the pain rips through me and I scream even though I tried so hard to stop.  I know she loves hearing me in anguish.  I feel like somebody drove a railroad spike through my feet again.  Blood wells up around it and I can see the worn dirty carpet through the hole.  My blood is turning the green shag a dark crimson.  Picking my foot up a little, I wince from the fire spreading up through my ankle and into my calves.

What the fuck did she do to me?

What the fuck have I done to her?

I see the parts of her past I keep nailed to the wall have fallen again.  Bending over to pick them up, a searing pain blasts me in the hands where I touched the feathers.  The holes that formed in my hands last week opened up again and blood runs down my wrists in thin rivers of agony.  Images flash in my mind and the torments I see of my fate both excite and scare me.  But I don’t care; I pick them up and run them through back on the long nails sticking out of the wall.

Her scream startles me and I smile, I guess even separated from them, they still can cause her pain.  I turn and see her rear up on the bed.  The sheets have fallen from her naked form and her breasts are jutting out toward me.  Sitting up on her knees, she writhes around and the swaying of her body brings me to a raging sexual boil inside.  The smile on her face is one of ecstasy knowing how much she’s hurting me right now.

Whatever I brought into my house out of lust has changed.  My angel has turned against me.  My love is broken, but not dead.  I approach her and run my fingers up her arm and across her chest.  The feel of her skin is like an orgasm and I slide my hand down her tight stomach and to the smooth folds of her sex.  Each brush against her is like a wave of pleasure and pain.  She makes all my nerves explode and I look over to the wings hanging on the wall.

I grin and touch the ragged wounds on her back.  The splintered bones protruding from her back and the last remaining blood stained feathers still mark her new earthly shame.

I love my angel.

To remind her of what I did that rainy day a week ago, I left the garden shears I used to clip her wings on the dresser.

It’s not every day an angel falls from heaven and I come across it.  It’s not every day I fall in love with a celestial being.

Of course I cut her wings off to keep her from flying away from me.

Now, I’m just not sure what clipping her wings have done to her.

I think I released her darkness, the same one that caused the Morning Star to fall.

And now I have to live with the price I must pay for my love.

Behind the “Blind Shadows” of James A. Moore and Charles R. Rutledge

In the past few years, I’ve been catching up on the horror authors who I missed.  Among them is James A. Moore.  His partner in crime for this tome is Charles R. Rutledge.  While I have read Moore and enjoy his work, I’m unfamiliar with Rutledge.  After reading their new collaboration Blind Shadows from Arcane Wisdom Press, I will be adding him to the read list.

From Amazon:

When private investigator Wade Griffin moved away from his hometown of Wellman, Georgia he didn’t think he would be back. Too many memories and too many bridges burned. But when an old friend is found brutally murdered and mutilated, nothing can keep Griffin from going home. Teamed with another childhood friend, Sheriff Carl Price, Griffin begins an investigation that will lead down darker paths than he could ever have imagined. Soon Griffin and Price find that there are secrets both dark and ancient lurking in the back woods of Crawford’s Hollow. As Halloween approaches, something evil is growing near the roots of the Georgia
mountains, and the keys to the mystery seem to be a woman of almost indescribable beauty and a dead man who won’t stay dead. As the body count mounts and the horrors pile up, Griffin and Price come to realize that the menace they face extends far beyond the boundaries of Wellman and that their opponents seem to hold all the cards. But the two lawmen have a few secrets of their own, and one way or another there will be hell to pay.

The novel throws you right in the action as Griffin arrives to the murder scene of a childhood friend back in the hometown he left years before.  This is where the novel works really well, it starts off quickly and builds like a crime novel, taking you by the hand and leading you through the backwoods in search of a killer who has a certain dramatic flare when they kill.  Wellman, Georgia has a problem with meth and the murder seems to stem from the local drug trade except the victim exhibits various cult-like symbols.  The ritualistic killings raise questions as to the motive and the killer’s identity.  A string of similar mutilated bodies begin to pile up linking the murders in the method and details taken at each crime scene.  The action builds as Griffin and Price race to figure out who is behind the killings while enlisting the aid of an old man versed in local lore, an old professor, and the local occult bookstore owner.  In the center of it all is the Blackbourne family who controls the local drug trade and maybe more than anyone else ever imagined because on Halloween night 1986, something tried to enter our world and failed.  Now as Halloween approaches, it is time to try again leading to a page turning climax that is very satisfying.

The book reads like a hard-boiled crime novel and shifts to a good horror novel.  Once the focus changes to the cult and supernatural elements, it takes you for a ride that grabs you and throws you around for a bit.  There are nods to the Lovecraft mythos, pulse pounding action, and some surprises are in store for those who are familiar with Moore’s work as you find out what is going on in the shadows.

Overall, when you can throw some murder, an undead hillbilly, and elder gods into a novel…you have my attention.  It is a bloody fun read and the book flew by quickly.  When it was over, I wanted to read more about the area and the local myths and legends that built the novel’s narrative.

Great book, highly recommended, and I give it 4.5 out of 5 tombstones.