Finding darkness, embracing it, and keeping going.

I fell down a rabbit hole recently.

It wasn’t too deep but it got me to thinking about darkness and how I deal with it, hell, how any of us deal with it.

Let’s start earlier.

Since I was a little kid I’ve always liked scary things. I was a vampire almost every Halloween as a kid. When I wasn’t, I was a werewolf.

As I grew up, I watched a lot of horror movies.

I saw Halloween when I was eight, Children of the Corn at about the same age.

Then my sister introduced me to Hellraiser.

Those movies are my go to for anyone who wants to understand me.

Watch the first three and you’ll understand me a bit better. Read Barker’s book, “The Hellbound Heart” and you’ll understand me more.

That erotic, bloody, torturous movie and it’s sequels helped me to find myself.

Now that I’m 43, I think about what type of horror drives me.

It’s visceral. Dark. Dirty.

Sometimes it makes me take a step back. That’s when I know I have something good.

When what I put on the page scares me. Then I have something good.

Pushing the boundaries is what we do. Especially horror writers.

I remember an interview with Stephen King about Pet Semetery. He said that’s one of the books he thought he went too far in.

But can you imagine that book changed? It would mess it up. That book scared the hell out me.

There are so many books where I thought a writer went too far but I can’t imagine the story without those scenes.

I strive to be a good horror writer because I love the dark. I’ve always loved it. Watching a horror movie gives me more joy than almost anything except my wife and kids, though the goods ones eclipse them too.

Reading horror is new to me.

Growing up, my father restricted me to certain types of books. I’ve mentioned this before.

But I would still pick up a copy of Fangoria at the bookstore.

I could watch horror movies when I was a kid, but the books were off limits.

In the last few years I’ve tried catching up on some of the classics. There are a lot of them and I’ve had to be picky.

But a good horror book or movie will always be my favorite. I’d rather watch or read those than anything else.

It makes sense for me to write that stuff.

I love it and it will always be what keeps me going.

Drafting, sobriety, and exercise issues.

I’m on week 2 of drafting. Week 3 of my new workout routine and started week four of being sober.

There have been hiccups in the drafting, that’s normal.

My new workout has kicked my ass and I’m not sure how long I can sustain its intensity levels.

The sobriety thing has been good. Sleeping better, mind clearer. You’d think that would help with my drafting but nope. At least not now.

I’m working on what I have in my head and what isn’t there has been the difficult part.

I wrote down what happens but I still have to write it.

I’m also going through the book I finished in June.

It’s been a pleasant and enjoyable surprise.

Have a good midweek.

When I found my voice.

There’s this often referred to mystical thing called voice.

It’s talked about in books, podcasts, hell I’ve even seen it referenced in movies.

There are many types of voices within a story. There is the narrative voice, each characters particular voice and then there is the distinctive voice each author gives to the story.

Some authors find it early in the writing career, others keep going and find it after writing 9 books.

It’s taken me to the latter of these.

It was never explained to me what this voice means. It’s difficult to explain.

The only way I can describe it is like this.

When you read a Stephen King book, you know it’s King by his description, by his character creation and the way he handles his monsters.

The same goes for any author. Neil Gaiman is another.

You know his work by the mood he sets in his books.

There is a moodiness or vibe to all of Neil’s books. I’ve loved his writing since Sandman. I’ve read a lot of his books. Anansi Boys is my favorite.

With every author you know that author from how they construct, how they build, how each of their stories flow.

This is what your voice is. I can’t tell you how to find it, only that you will.

You’ll discover it while reading one of your stories. You’ll set it down, step back and wonder when it happened.

It will happen, but you have to keep going to discover it.

When it does, you’ll understand why, and you’ll also understand why other stories didn’t work.

You’ll find it. Keep writing.

Fear and what it does to us.

I was talking to my wife the other night as we lay in bed.

We want to go to London and Edinburgh with our kids next summer and I said, “well if we go there at least we won’t get shot at.”

This is what we’ve come to.

My kids go back to school in two weeks and then it’s stress time.

Any time the sound of siren passes down the street we wonder. Is that going to their school?

It’s a horrible place to be in as a human and a parent to think this way, but it’s the only way I can think.

We’ve reached a point where we cower in fear at the sound of siren, a car backfiring, and fireworks going off.

It’s not normal to act this but unfortunately it’s the point we’ve reached.

I’ve talked to other parents who react the same way and it’s terrifying.

I don’t look at this as a political issue, it’s a human rights issue.

My kids and everyone else’s kids deserve to attend school without having lockdown drills.

Myself and other parents deserve to not worry about a shooting but whether their kid is enjoying school.

I’ve reached the point where I’d rather travel overseas with my family than in the country of my birth.

My family has roots going to the 1600’s in this country. It’s about what’s right and decent not about what’s politically popular.

Finding your path.

There are these paths that we take. They lead us through troubles waters, rough seas, and storms that wish to drown us.

They come at us in ways we’re not expecting.

Parents we once trusted, siblings we’d do anything for, and friends who were washed away with our dreams of a better life.

These paths meander, sometimes converge, but most often they lead us to where we’re supposed to be in our lives.

We follow this journey in the footprints of others. We see the light pouring through the clouds at times. It leads us, protects us, but most often it does not lead us astray.

We journey on this path, the footsteps feeling more like quicksand, our feet sinking. Struggling to keep ourselves above the fray of who and what we are.

The path takes us to a place we knew we had to go but didn’t want to because of a fear of losing people.

It is upon this path, in this sanctuary that we discover where we’re going, what we are supposed to do when we get there and it’s only in these moments when absolute clarity reaches us.

The clarity of mind, of life, and of a choice to follow the path presented is one that we must take alone. In it we’ll understand why other things never worked.

Our journey, our path, and the guide within takes us to exactly where we need to be at the point in our lives we should be there.

It’s taken too long for me to find this path. Now that I’ve reached it, I’ll continue down its shores, within its green forests, and find my way through the desert.