Author Archives: Brian B Baker

About Brian B Baker

I write horror stories, talk about depression, and how I through all of it.

The change is here

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When I said the change was coming last week, I meant this.

My world was turned upside down in the last three months. I wrote about that on Monday.

I found myself hating writing, hating myself, and not wanting to do anything to improve any of it.

The change is about acknowledging those things. It’s about understanding why I fell into a depression and how I must get out of it and work through it all to be a better person for myself.

There are many steps on a path, but the first step to improving oneself is the most important. On this journey, I’ve learned to understand that change sucks. Coming out of a dark place into the light, or at least as much light as I allow into my life, is worth everything.

My writing never took precedence over anything, and surely not editing.

Today I’m writing this post on Sunday before it posts. I need this separation from the blog articles. I’ll write blog articles on the weekends and fiction during the week.

I’ve discussed a new schedule for my writing day. How I’ll manage my writing and the editing I need to do. These are intrinsic to the goals I’ve set. The execution will be the more difficult aspect of all of this.

I am now sober for 76 days. I say this not as a brag but as something I’m proud of. I’ve consumed alcohol regularly, barring the few times I’ve gone sober over the last two years since I turned 18. Some of those times are good, but all of them are cloudy.

I’ve reached a point at 46 where alcohol no longer works for me. It dissolves me into a bottle, and the contents are not who I wish to be. It’s a long fight. I need to do it for myself.

Today is another day on this patch of dirt, and I’m glad I’m here.

The break that almost killed me

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I’d wondered how this post would go most of the weekend, and while I’m sitting here on Sunday awaiting the blood moon and eclipse. I learned a lot about myself over the last few months.

My break wasn’t one I’d intended. It was magical journey into one of the worst depressions I’ve had since my break in 2014.

It started with my son having some issues at school. I’m not blaming him. I’m blaming myself for not dealing with my mental health in a satisfactory way. There were inklings of the coming storm with how I handled a few things after the first of the year. The echoes of the coming storm reverberated and then took over as if the echoes weren’t echoes but the storm’s arrival at my doorstep.

I fought hard to contain the storm. I stopped drinking because I needed to. I put myself on a limit on how much social media I could participate in. This last part led me to take a break from Twitter and screw up my algorithm. I no longer saw the people I cared about seeing. It was all bullshit all the time. I dove into TikTok and into my Norse practice. The latter has been my saving grace over the last eight months.

I may go into the Norse practice if there is any interest, but let’s just say I had a few conversations in dreams last summer that led me to discover it.

As I fell more into a depressive state and swore, I wouldn’t say anything to anyone for fear of what they might say.

Those moments of clarity in the depths of my depression caused me to wonder what I was doing. Whether I should continue to write and if it was a waste of time. I’ve written steadily for the last eight years. I’ve written eight novels, 4 novellas, and more short stories than I can count.

Recently I wondered if it was worth it. I’ve often wondered whether I should continue. It’s something that still plagues me as I write this. After that much writing and having nothing except the collection out in the world, it’s hard to understand what I’ve done wrong.

The biggest problem is allowing others to dictate what I should write when I know better than anyone else what my mind is capable of. In that vein, I also understood I needed to find a real editor for my work. Finding one made a huge difference. I’ve barely touched the draft they’ve worked on. That changes this week.

I am on firmer footing with myself and my work, but there will always be that questioning mind about whether I should continue or move on. This hits hardest as my oldest graduates in a couple of weeks. We’re taking them and their sibling to Disneyland to celebrate this occasion.

As they step into another phase of their life, I know my wife and I are doing the same.

I will always struggle with depression. It’s a fact that I’ve come to accept. I won’t merely exist with it. I will live with it.

I began a new story this week, writing it for myself. I’m avoiding the traps of my former writing ways and throwing myself into it.

I hope you’ll stay and follow along.

The hard writing creates the most improvement.

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I’ve thought about this blog idea and finally stepped up.

I consider myself and horror and thriller writer, which is stated on my Twitter profile.

With thrillers, they come easily. They write themselves from the start of the outline to the finished story.

With horror, it’s different. I have to think a bit more. It challenges me more. I can’t write an outline for my horror stories, no matter their length. I’m not sure why this is, but I’ve learned to accept this is my process for each genre.

Identifying this little bit took me to the point of quitting altogether. It wasn’t until recently I identified that each story needs something else. And that’s okay.

I started a horror novel this week, and just as with others, I attempted to write an outline, but nope. These stories are all discovery written.

I believe it’s the intricacies of the thriller genre that require this. The layers of military/political/espionage thriller and the research those categories require force me(who has never served in the military, worked in politics, or participated in any espionage activities) into discovering how certain firearms work. How certain groups would operate and what they’re like is the most difficult. I don’t know anyone who works in these environments, so I read about tactics and weapons. The library I have on certain groups has probably put me on some government list. I’m fine with that. I get pulled out by the TSA every time anyway. I always have.

I enjoy the lack of need regarding all of the research with horror. Of course, there is some research, but nothing like when I’m writing thrillers. There is also the fear factor involved. I worry more if I’m getting details wrong with thrillers. One can only read so many books and still not understand what it’s like to be in a firefight, and I would never ask a vet.

I love writing horror for the simple reason of its freedom. I love writing thrillers because that’s what I grew up reading more than any other genre. Both are my wheelhouse and I learn different things from writing both. I find writing horror more difficult because it’s straight world-building throughout the process.

Thrillers will always have more work on the front end with outlines, and research, while horror will have more on the backend, either with more drafts or with research during or after the first draft is complete.

I’m adjusting to the fact that I write differently depending on the genre. I’ve taken some damage to my ego, which I’m sure needed to happen. I’ll be working this way from now on.

Horror will be my favorite of the two because it’s my safe space, as I mentioned earlier this week. But that’s all I have for today. Have a good weekend.

Horror has always been my safe space.

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When I think of horror it’s about the times I spent alone as a kid. My father wouldn’t come home for a couple of days. I’d spend that time watching horror movies on HBO or Cinemax or I’d read. But the books weren’t horror, they were military/political thrillers. Later they were dubbed techno-thrillers, but I digress.

Horror was my safe space. I felt safer watching those movies than at any other time. It was in those long nights of being home that I watched Basketcase, Creepshow, Tales From the Crypt, and a myriad of other movies. I watched movies a 13-year-old maybe shouldn’t watch, but it was the ’80’s and us latchkey kids didn’t have many rules. The rules we had were about school, but everything else was open and free to explore. I took advantage of that.

I’m sure the reason I fight with myself over writing horror or thrillers is because of those days and nights alone. When my father was home I read thrillers. When he wasn’t, I watched horror. Horror made me feel safe. It scared me of course, but I knew it was safe. T

he thrillers were about the world ending in a war or some random shooter. But horror wasn’t like that.

When I write horror I consider it a dive into my deepest, darkest memories and how those memories scarred me.

It’s within the construct of a horror story that I feel safe. I’m allowed to explore those bad memories. Those bad events. I’m able to parse those things into a story and allow my mind to explore them in a safe space. It’s this same safe space that I felt growing up watching those movies.

It’s the darkness staring through our eyes. Our memories of tragedy, of abuse, and of learning to deal with it in our own way. My way of dealing with abuse was to shut down. It still is.

When I consider where I came from and what I’ve learned about myself and the fear of things in the night, regardless of what they are, I think of long nights alone in the dark. The flicker of a horror movie on the screen is my solace and when I’m depressed or upset it’s these movies that bring me joy.

A new story comes from these dark places and they bring me joy in the same way those movies do. A new story comes when I’m ready to deal with the past in any shape. It breaks through the barrier I keep around myself. Those stories endear themselves to me. They show me the dark isn’t that bad and that I can work through anything.

My own development as a writer is to put this process through it’s paces. I must feel the story. I must understand that it’s going to get rough for these characters and that through them I can work through whatever trauma I have. I did that with the story, ‘Carnival of Darkness’ in my collection. I dealt with a situation from my childhood I’m still working through.

I must hear the story and the characters in my head and it’s only with horror that this happens.

While writing thrillers it’s the story, but with horror it’s the characters and their feelings.

I come to a story with an idea, but getting to know my characters and their feelings about life, love, and what trauma they’ve dealt with is where I play my cards.

I will let you get back to your regularly scheduled program.

I will be at the same Bat Channel tomorrow.

Change is coming…

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I’ve been in a very depressed state for the last three months. It started with my writing not going anywhere. It moved on from that onto my oldest having issues at school. They graduate this year and ran into some issues in February. From there my mind was thrown off and I haven’t written anything I’ve really enjoyed since.

I have a novel out with my editor and will continue to use this editor. She’s been awesome and understands the characters. Her going over my draft has been one of the brightest points of the last three months. The rest of it has been shit.

I have six projects in one form or another moving along, but getting fresh words on them are the hardest things I’ve done in a long time.

Long time readers of this blog know that I equate depression to living in pit. The walls are slick with mud and slime. It is hardest thing to climb out of because of those walls. I’ve had many thoughts of self-harm over these three months. I’m working through all of it but damn getting out of the pit is hard.

I’ve also quit drinking. This time for good. I can’t drink. It’s something that I’ve fought with over the last three years. It finally came to head around my birthday in March. I can’t in good conscience drink alcohol and fell good about who I am as person.

I no longer want to be in this situation. I’m working to improve my mental as well as physical well being. I will be using this blog to refocus my energy and to use it how I’d initially intended it. To write about my problems. I know it’s sometimes depressing to read about how someone is struggling, but I know there are people out there who are comforted and feel less alone by reading my words. I’ve had numerous people tell me so.

But I am on to the next page. I will be here more often and my content will change a little bit, but I’ll always talk about writing. It’s the one thing that keeps me going.