Tag Archives: Life

Hello, is this thing on?

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Greetings and salutations.

I have been a way from this blog for a while. I’ve been working and trying to get my head on straight, or as straight as it will go.

I’ve taken time away to work on me. My writing has been put on the back burner for the last almost year, something like that.

I found myself not wanting to write and I know it comes from the way I feel about my writing and some of the community I’ve interacted with.

It’s nothing new to see that someone had a bad experience with their writing community. Mine has not been to the extremes of others but I’m also not a fan of many in my sphere of writing.

I’m getting back into writing horror.

I saw a post about an open call for something and while I’m hoping to be in the cool, “I’m published by a big name” club. I’m at the point in my writing where I honestly don’t care anymore. I’m writing for me, and maybe that’s why I’m feeling that way I do about the writing community.

My wife told me to write what I want and it’s not about whether I publish it or not.

To be honest, I wanted to be published to help my wife out with the bills, but my new job does that. Writing is what I’ll do, regardless of genre, although my thriller book, Disunion By Force has outsold my horror by a large degree and it sells everywhere.

I think about the time I may have lost by not writing and I’m indifferent.

I turned 50 recently and I will write whatever the hell I want. If I publish it myself, cool, if I submit it and it gets published cool, but I’m not going to play the game of asking for help or putting my name in a hot and hope I’m selected for a scholarship or some sort of honorific.

I’m past the point of caring with all of that. I’ll write for me and that’s more important than anything.

A change of thought, not mind

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My wife and I talked about my writing last night.

In my last post I suggested I was considering stopping altogether. It’s something that’s been on my mind for the last six months. She didn’t so much talk me off the cliff as put it into perspective about where I was ten years ago when we moved from Las Vegas to where we’re at now in Utah. And more importantly where I’m at and where my writing is.

We moved almost eleven years ago from a good paying job for me and my wife merely changed addresses. She’s been remote since our youngest was two and is now 16.

She said, “You used to just write and enjoy it. You didn’t care what you were writing or for who and I think that’s what you should get back to doing.”

I got it it my head that I should publish and chase all of those who have been published. Those are people I won’t mention because they don’t need the attention, but I look up to and have for a long time.

Ten years ago I didn’t know about any of the writing associations and I just wrote. I’ve written fifteen novels and they’re still on my hard drive, well all but one, Disunion By Force, which still sells decently, at least for me. It sells in the oddest of places. I sold one in Switzerland last month, digital and physical editions.

I’ve been writing to get published. I haven’t been writing because I like writing.

I’d like to make enough to help my wife out, but with my new job I don’t feel that as much.

I make enough that we’re stable and doing okay.

I’ll continue to keep my social medias deactivated. I’m not sure I’ll ever submit something again. It feels like too much and I’d rather just write stories for the sake of the story.

If I do publish something, this is the only place you’ll hear about it.

I hope all of you who read this have a pleasant week.

B

Gears are changing

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As with everything, writing changes.

I’ve kept a close eye on the sales of my books through this year. I’ve sold 21 copies of my books this year. Most of them are in Ebooks, but it’s not the number but which books are selling better than others.

My thriller, Disunion By Force, sold more copies than my horror novel and while it’s close, the various places its sold around the world is the most interesting thing. I’ve sold copies in places I never thought I would. India is one of the newest places.

I’ll continue to write horror, but only short form. I work better with short form horror than I do with long form. I’m able to get the conciseness of it down while long form feels like a slog.

As for thrillers, I’ll be writing those in long form. I have two that I’ve started but put away for one reason or another, mostly because of I’ve doubted myself. The writing holds up with those thrillers. I have one at 39k that I’ll be working on through the end of the year.

After discussions with my wife, I’ll be focusing on the thrillers, though I have a story coming out in November for the Utah Horror Writers yearly anthology. You can help with the Kickstarter.

I will continue to review books. I am considering a pseudonym for my thriller novels. I had one before and will probably use that going forward.

I have to head to work and I hope you enjoy your day.

Review for Josh Malerman’s Incidents Around The House

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Josh’s novella collection, Spin A Black Yarn, was one of my favorite books of last year. I read it in two days. I talk about it enough that my wife has told me to stop.

When I got the Netgalley approval, I didn’t know what I was getting into. It took me to some places—not the places I wanted to go—and scared me. I would have read it in a day, but I needed breaks from the seriously freaky things happening.

I have been afraid of closets since I was a kid. I don’t know why, and I can never say it. My wife doesn’t get it. I don’t like them. If you’re like me, this book is for you. If you’re not, then it’s still the book for you.

It opens with a little girl, Bella. Her parents are having issues. They have parties all the time, and something is haunting her. The Other Mommy is not like the one from Neil Gaiman’s Coraline. It’s a terrifying descent into a family dealing with something traumatic happening to their kid as they deal with their lives.

Josh is very good at traumatic experiences. He writes Bella so well. We watch her struggle through the fear of Other Mommy, not knowing when she’ll pop up or be at the end of the bed. This is a story that would do well as a screenplay.

I set the book down numerous times because of what was happening—the story’s imagery. The description of Other Mommy is something out of my childhood nightmares. I knew something would come out of the closet. I felt it as a kid.

Josh captures a child’s fear in this story: the fear of the Other Mommy, what’s going on with her parents, and not knowing how to make the Other Mommy go away.

It’s been a while since I felt a child’s fear in a story, but Josh does it quickly in this one.

The ending and the lead-up to the ending were unexpected but worked well for the story.

The days grow

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There are moments in my writing where the days grow wider. The wind blows outside. There are times when I see things more clearly than others, and then, there are times like now.

It’s been a couple of months since I’ve written anything decent. Reading Tim Waggoner’s book lit some sort of fire, though it may have been a combination of several things.

I did a ghost hunt at Mercur Cemetery with the Utah Chapter of the HWA this past Friday. I got some great pictures of a sunset. That night has been with me since. I think about how old it is. The Town of Mercur went away in the early 1900s. After two fires and the closure of a mine, it fell apart. This happened to many towns around the same time.

The cemetery sits on a hill overlooking the valley below, but there was something about that night. Something about the sounds. The feelings, and then there was how I felt and my youngest felt. I’ve always been sensitive to places like that. It was their first time at a place like that. They did not enjoy it. It was overwhelming to them.

I’ve talked to them about it since. They’re getting better. But the atmosphere of that place is different. The air shifts when you walk up the hill to it. It’s subtle, but they and I noticed it.

I’ll be using that trip to work. It’s the least I can do. I may post pictures from it. I got some great ones. It was the uncomfortableness of it. It wasn’t the dark, but the sounds. The chittering in the dark. It has stuck with me.