Tim Waggoner's Blog, page 7
September 6, 2021
How I Write A Lot (and How Maybe You Can Too)
Yesterday, I finished my fifty-third novel.
I’ve written more novels than that overall, but I don’t count the unpublished ones. If I did, I’d probably have to add maybe ten more to the total. And since this latest novel was written on spec (meaning I don’t have a publisher lined up for it yet), I guess it counts as unpublished too, but at this point in my career, I feel confident that someone somewhere will publish it. (I hope, anyway!)
Whenever people find out how many books I’ve written, they’re amazed. But I finished my first (unpublished) novel when I was nineteen. I’m fifty-seven now. I’ve written steadily for most of my life, so it doesn’t seem all that surprising to me that I’ve produced so many books. Whenever I announce on social media that I’ve finished a new book, I get a lot of similar responses, especially from fellow writers.
“I’m jealous of how prolific you are.”
“Can you lend me some of your productivity?”
“I wish I could write that fast!”
And
“What’s your secret?”
I’ve taught college writing courses almost as long as I’ve been writing, and as part of helping other writers, I think a lot about process – especially my own – and try to glean insights that I can pass along to my students, offering them craft tips and tidbits of advice. But whenever I think about what my “secret” is to being prolific, I keep coming back to the same answer: It’s just who I am. But that – true as it may be – isn’t helpful for anyone, so I thought I’d write a blog entry about why and how I’m prolific, for whatever good it might do for other writers.
So here we are.
First off . . .
What’s so great about being prolific?
I honestly don’t know why anyone would be jealous of how much writing I produce. I sometimes wish I wrote more slowly, that I could spent more time constructing plots, developing characters, honing sentences, sharpening imagery, revising multiple times until my fiction is the absolute best it can be. My output averages three books a year, along with several short stories and articles, but none of my work stands our particularly. Yeah, I’ve won a few awards, but it’s not like I’m a bestseller or a critics’ darling. My books come, and my books go, and while I’m gratified to know some people enjoy them, I don’t have a gigantic readership. In traditional publishing – even in the small press – if your book sales aren’t high enough, your publisher will drop you, and I’ve had this happen to me several times, and it may well happen to me again in the future. (So go buy lots of my books so I can avoid re-experiencing this terrible fate!)
My mind has always worked fast, and whatever I produce, I produce it fast. In grade school, I’d always be the first one done with a test, and teachers would chide me for it, tell me to go back to my desk and check over my work. I started waiting to turn in my tests until two or three other students had so teachers would leave me alone. But the point those teachers were trying to make was that fast does not always equalgood. I like to create something, finish it, and then move on to the next thing as fast as I can, and that doesn’t always allow for my work to be the best it possibly could be. So those of you who write more slowly, deliberately, and thoughtfully may well end up producing work superior to mine. Donna Tartt produces a novel every ten years, but they’re phenomenal, and they have a huge impact on readers and the field of literature. It’s okay to be the hare, but it’s just as okay to be the tortoise, especially in the arts.
I know that in the realm of indie publishing, putting out work at a fairly rapid pace is viewed as the key to success, but that’s a business decision, not an artistic one. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that, and a fast writer like me could probably do fairly well with this production model, especially if I wrote series fiction. But right now, I don’t have any interest in indie publishing. I like the challenge of traditional publishing, as well as its collaborative nature. And since I have a day job as a college professor, I don’t need to maximize my writing income. Maybe I’ll feel differently about indie publishing one day, but for now I plan to stick with trad publishing.
A lot of what allows me to be prolific are aspects of my personality and experiences that can’t be replicated, at least not easily. For example . . .
· As I said earlier, I think fast. Always have.
· I have ideas running through my head 24/7. Always have.
· I tend to live in my head most of the time, so in a sense I’m always imagining and creating. This means that when I sit down to write, I’ve already got a lot of fuel for my creative engine.
· I have a natural aptitude for language – which is why I went into writing and teaching writing.
· When I was nine, I almost drowned, and then a few months later, my great uncle – who was like a second father to me – died. These two experiences made me confront the fact that life is limited, and I vowed never to waste a moment of it, so I become more focused on getting things accomplished at an earlier age than most people probably do.
· I grew up with relatives – my dad and my maternal grandmother – who worked all the time, on the job and on tasks and hobbies at home. I internalized not only leaving the house to work at a job but working on your own stuff once you got home.
· My mother was an agoraphobic, so my family never went anywhere or did anything. I spent a lot of time living in my imagination – reading comics and books, watching TV, thinking up my own characters and stories, etc.
· I can make choices easily and quickly. On the Meyers-Briggs scale (yes, I know it has no scientific validity, just go with it) I’m an INFJ. My J helps me write fast because I don’t belabor or second-guess my choices (at least not until later).
· I’m generally physically healthy, and when I am sick, it’s pretty mild. So health issues don’t interfere with my writing.
· My spouse, however, does have a number of health issues, so we tend not to go out a lot. This means I have more time to write than I might otherwise. (I don’t view this as a positive. I wish my wife enjoyed good health.)
· I am, however, dysthymic, which means I suffer from a constant low-grade depression that can be become a much worse depression if I’m not careful. I take meds and have gotten counseling on how to deal with my depression, but writing – despite all its ups and downs – is one of the things that helps me keep the black dog at bay.
· I have two daughters, but they’re both in their twenties now, so I don’t have young children I need to care for throughout the course of a day.
· College was a hell of a lot cheaper when I went in the Eighties, and I had an inheritance that paid for almost all of it, and when I went to grad school, I had a teaching assistantship that did pay for everything, so I didn’t have to work to pay off student loans later.
· I’m an all-or-nothing kind of guy. I don’t like to dabble in things, and I don’t enjoy casual relationships of any kind. This quality helps me focus on writing and producing writing.
· And probably the most fundamental aspect of my psychological makeup that contributes to my prolificacy is that I have to create stories. It’s as natural and necessary to me as breathing. It’s a core aspect of who I am.
But there are things I’ve learned along the way – or stumbled across by accident – that any writer can do. (Depending on their particular circumstances, of course. Not everyone is fortunate enough to experience the same privileges I’ve had, and I know this.)
Principles Any Writer Can (At Least Try) to Put Into Practice
· I started out as an acting major in college. During one class, the professor said we should make a list of all the things that are important to us in life, and that the higher acting was on the list, the greater the chance we’d succeed at it. Well, acting with nowhere near the top of my list (which is why I changed my major), but I think writing was the second or third item. Having a family was the first. This taught me that I have to make writing a priority in my life – and keep it that way – if I want to be a success.
· When I first started writing, old pros used to say that “the first million words are practice.” (This was back before anyone could self-publish the first thing they wrote by uploading it to Amazon.) I internalized this advice as a need to start working and keep working steadily in order to improve, and that I need to write regularly in order to keep my writing brain in shape.
· When I decided I wanted to devote my life to writing, I decided to get an MA in English. (If I’d understood the difference between an MA and an MFA back then, I would’ve gotten the latter degree.) I knew that an MA would allow me to teach composition courses part-time, and that I’d have at least some time to write this way. I was married to my first wife at the time, so between our dual meager incomes (and not having any kids yet) we got by. This meant I had time to learn how to be a writer, and more importantly, what it meant for meto be a writer. So when I started regularly publishing in my thirties, I didn’t have to deal with a steep learning curve and could just write.
· I spent my twenties continuing to teach part-time and learning how to be a writer, without any expectation of publication (though I had hopes, or course!). Old pros used to say that it took around ten years to learn how to write and establish a writing career, so I’d made peace with the fact it might take me a while to get where I wanted to go. This kept me writing and producing regularly because I wanted to get through those ten years and start my career in earnest.
· My first daughter wasn’t born until I was thirty-one, and I didn’t land a full-time teaching job until I was thirty-five. This means I’d spent a long time learning how to be a writer before I had major responsibilities that would’ve made practicing, learning, and producing writing harder.
· Being a parent taught me a metric fuck-ton about managing my time. My girls came first, and I fit my writing in when I could, and I gave up all the stupid things I used to do that wasted my time – watching dumb TV shows I didn’t really care about, playing videogames that had no purpose, etc.
· Being a parent also meant that I stopped going out with friends. I didn’t have time, and when I did, I was exhausted. Plus what little spare time I did have went to writing. I prioritized my writing above any needs that didn’t relate to my family.
· I still don’t have any friends to hang out with. Not because I don’t want any, but because most of my friends are fellow writers who live a good distance away from me. We interact online and at conferences, but that’s about it. But since writers tend to be introverts, this arrangement probably works out well for us all.
· I had – and still have – no other hobbies or interests that take up my time. Everything I do is writing, teaching writing, or reading and watching stories to learn how to be a better storyteller. I don’t have what some people might consider a healthy work/life balance, but that’s because my life is centered on doing the activity I love above all other activities – which, as far as I’m concerned, is the healthiest way for me to live.
· My full-time job allows me time to write. I don’t work nine-to-five, so I can juggle my writing and teaching in such as way that I can write regularly. I don’t have to teach in summer, although I do for extra money, but I don’t teach as many classes, so I have extra time to write then. It’s not easy to find a job that allows you time to write, but if you can, it’s a massive help. Jobs that don’t require a lot of creativity or brain effort are good too, so you can save your creativity for your writing.
· My full-time job hasn’t made me wealthy, but I don’t have to worry about money usually. It’s difficult (to say the least) to be creative when you have financial struggles.
· I’m fortunate that my family understands and supports my need to write. I don’t have to struggle with them to get writing time.
I have learned some aspects of craft that I can pass along to you, though.
Tips for Being a Productive Writer
· I’m not a health freak, but I do my best to take care of myself. I try to eat right, get (some) exercise, and get enough sleep. Your brain can’t be at its best when your body isn’t at its best.
· I try to take care of my mental health. (I’m dysthymic, remember?) I’ve gone through a lot of therapy to deal with baggage from my childhood and my divorce and to generally make me a healthier person. I also have issues with anxiety, so I’ve learned techniques to deal with that, plus the antidepressants I take also help a lot. The healthier your mind is, the more stuff you can create, and the better that stuff will be.
· I’ve learned my creativity bio-rhythms. I discovered a long time ago that I run on twelve-hour shifts when it comes to writing, so instead of writing once a day, I write once every twelve hours (when I can; life doesn’t always cooperate). Learning this increased my productivity quite a bit. Find out when you have your most energy – early in the day, late at night, before or after you eat, etc. – and use your natural biorhythms to help boost your productivity.
· Over the years, I’ve learned to apply my creativity to how and when I write as well as what I write. So whenever the words aren’t coming, instead of stopping, I change things up. I write in a different place, at a different time of the day. I handwrite instead of type. I switch to writing story notes instead of prose. I switch to a different project for a bit. I leave the house and write offsite. I go for a walk or drive so that I can think. I bounce ideas off my wife. I seek out a book or film that I think will inspire me creatively. It’s kind of like juggling. If I drop one ball, I forget about it and focus on the ones I still have in the air. I can always pick up the dropped ball later.
· I once read a book by Brenda Ueland called If You Want to Write. In it, she talks about healing yourself through writing, and I’ve done this for years. When I’m not well physically or emotionally, I seek healing and solace in my writing instead of staying away from it when I’m sick or depressed. (This assumes you’re not in a coma or something – kind of hard to write then.)
· I constantly cultivate my imagination. I write down ideas in the notepad app on my phone whenever I think of something/see something cool. I take photos of cool/weird stuff too. I’ve always got material to draw on, whether I want to write a novel, a short story, or an article.
· I spend a lot of time visualizing scenes in my fiction, thinking about how I’m going to structure things, contemplating bits of dialogue. I do a lot of pre-drafting in my head, so when I sit down at the computer, the words come much more easily than they might otherwise.
· I outline novels. Sometimes I have a very simple list of events for short stories, but sometimes I just write them and see where they go. I always outline nonfiction. Sometimes I use PowerPoint to outline nonfiction – and then I have a presentation I can use for a workshop somewhere down the line. With novels, I have an overall outline and character/place notes. As I compose the novel, I write shorter, simpler outlines for scenes – sometimes just a few lines on a sticky note or maybe in a notebook. As I compose, I may write notes for what’s to come. I write those in all caps right in the scene and compose that material later, maybe during that writing session, maybe during another.
· I write linearly for the most part. I have macro and micro outlines to follow, so there’s no need for me to jump around, write things out of order, and figure out how the hell to organize them later. This saves me a huge amount of time. I’m not a writer who needs to write multiple exploratory drafts in order to figure out what I want to say and where I want my story to go. Nothing wrong with that approach at all, but it of course takes a lot of time.
· I set production goals. Because I usually have a contract in place before I write something, I have a deadline to meet. I figure out how many pages a day I need to make that deadline, and then I do my best to produce that amount of pages every day. Some days I produce more, some days less, but usually I make the deadline, sometimes with time to spare.
· The last few years, I’ve been getting up at 5am so that I can start writing by 6am. Years ago, I used to be a night owl, but having kids cured me of that! Even though I usually have time in the afternoons to write too, I produce what I can in the mornings and then produce more after I’ve taught my classes for the day. I can produce a lot this way.
· I tend to revise as I go. A specific work is always a single file on my computer, and if I realize I need to fix something, I go back into the earlier part of the manuscript and do it. I start each writing session re-reading what I created during the last sessions and cleaning up the prose and fixing any continuity problems, etc. Because of this, when I finish a draft, it’s close to being the final version. I go over it one or two more times after that to catch anything I might’ve missed, but I usually don’t find anything major.
· I do my best to avoid decision fatigue before I write. I read an article a few years back about how after humans have made a number of decisions, they become fatigued and, while they can still make decisions after that, those decisions are lousy ones. Writing earlier in the day – before I have any other decisions to make, such as when I’m teaching a class – helps me, as does writing later in the day or evening after my brain has had a chance to recover from making decisions.
· I try to think of writing as going to work. I don’t have to be enthused or full of energy or feel particularly inspired. I need to show up and start typing, and I need to keep typing until I’ve produced my quota of words for that session. Part of this attitude is approaching my writing as something perfectly ordinary and normal so I don’t get anxious about whether it’s good or publishable or whether people will like it, etc. Forward movement is what matters when I’m at the keyboard.
· I try my best to remain in a calm, relaxed state when I write so that my own brain doesn’t get in my way. Having simple rituals – getting up, making coffee, sipping coffee while I check email and peruse social media – helps. For others, meditating before you start writing might be effective. I think a lot of what people call writer’s block is really writer’s anxiety, and the calmer we can be when we write, the easier the words will come.
· I think story when I write; I don’t think publishing. I’m aware someone will (hopefully) read my words, but I don’t think too much about reader expectation as I write. It’s too easy to become self-conscious that way, and then the words come harder.
· My publishing history gives me confidence. I’ve published (or will soon have published) fifty-three novels, three nonfiction books, around 200 short stories, and dozens of articles. Knowing I’ve successfully done this thing before helps me relax and write when I’m afraid I may not be able to do it this time.
· I don’t listen to the darkest part of me. I’m not talking dark in the sense of writing horror, but dark as in the negative part of myself that is always critical, always depressed, always doubtful, always lacking confidence. Part of me believes that I’m worthless and that anything I create will be worthless. This part will always believe these things, no matter what I do and no matter what anyone says to me. No matter how many things I publish, how many awards I win, how much positive feedback I get from reviewers and readers, this part will still believe I’m nothing. I’ve accepted that this part of me exists and will always exist, that there’s nothing I can do to change it, but I’ve learned I don’t have to listen to it, amplify it, and give it power, and I write anyway. This isn’t easy. Sometimes it feels like I’m walking a tightrope, but most days I manage. I can’t help but hear the darkest part of me when it speaks, but I tell myself it’s a liar, and I keep going.
· Years ago I learned about strengths theory. This is the idea that no one can be good at everything, so we should identify what our strengths are, work on improving those as much as we can, and then just try to get competent at the other stuff. An extremely successful and accomplished actor, singer, athlete, etc. maximizes their strengths and is competent enough in areas they may be weak in. They don’t waste time trying to get excellent at everything in their profession because they can’t. No one can. Over time, I’ve learned what my strengths are through my own analysis of my work, but also from feedback from agents, publishers, reviewers, and readers. This is why I always read reviews of my work – so I can get a better feel for what my strengths are and continue to enhance them and learn what my weaknesses are so I can try to get good enough at those areas. Thinking of my writing using strengths theory means I don’t worry about all the things my writing isn’t and likely can never be. That sort of worry – Why aren’t my characters more distinctive? How come my prose isn’t more musical? Why can’t I write something funny? – can really mess with your head and make it harder to get any writing done.
· Lastly, I have a sticky note in my writing space that has two simple sentences on it: Writing is a choice. Writing is a commitment. When I don’t feel like writing, I re-read those sentences and remind myself that I need to commit to this session’s work, that I need to choose to sit down, begin, and keep at it until I’ve produced my quota. I know that not everyone can make this commitment or make this choice every day for whatever reasons. But the more you can, the more you’ll produce.
In the end, being prolific doesn’t mean anything, though. What matters is that you find fulfillment in your writing, however fast or slow it comes to you, or however much you produce in your lifetime. If you’re not fulfilled – if you’re not having fun, not growing as a person – why write at all?
DEPARTMENT OF SHAMELESS SELF-PROMOTION
Halloween Kills
My novelization of the latest in the Halloween saga comes out next month, and it’s now available for pre-order!
Minutes after Laurie Strode, her daughter Karen, and granddaughter Allyson left masked monster Michael Myers caged and burning in Laurie’s basement, Laurie is rushed to the hospital with life-threatening injuries, believing she finally killed her lifelong tormentor.
But when Michael manages to free himself from Laurie’s trap, his ritual bloodbath resumes. As Laurie fights her pain and prepares to defend herself against him, she inspires all of Haddonfield to rise up against their unstoppable monster. But as a group of other survivors of Michael’s first rampage decide to take matters into their own hands, a vigilante mob forms that sets out to hunt Michael down. Evil dies tonight.
Pre-Order Links
Titan Books: https://titanbooks.com/70487-halloween-kills-the-official-movie-novelization/
Amazon Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/Halloween-Kills-Official-Movie-Novelization/dp/1789096014/ref=tmm_mmp_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1629213230&sr=1-2
Amazon Audiobook: https://www.amazon.com/Halloween-Kills-Official-Movie-Novelization/dp/B099TMFB8N/ref=tmm_aud_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1629213230&sr=1-2
Barnes and Noble Paperback: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/halloween-kills-tim-waggoner/1139229840?ean=9781789096019
Barnes and Noble Nook Book: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/halloween-kills-tim-waggoner/1139229840?ean=9781789096194
Your Turn to Suffer
My latest novel for Flame Tree Press is still available!
“If you like your horror to be dark, deeply themed with a sly smile on the pulse of Barker and Lovecraft whilst making his own unique addition, you cannot go wrong with Your Turn To Suffer. An Excellent read.” – The Literary License Podcast
“While having some grisly splatterpunk elements this novel maybe leans more into weird fiction, and reminds me of classic 80s horror (think Nightmare on Elm Street or Hellraiser.) It was a lot of fun.” – Only the Darkest Reads
Lori Palumbo is harassed by a sinister group calling themselves The Cabal. They accuse her of having committed unspeakable crimes in the past, and now she must pay. The Cabal begins taking her life apart one piece at a time – her job, her health, the people she loves – and she must try to figure out what The Cabal thinks she’s done if she’s to have any hope of answering their charges and salvaging her life.
Order Links:
Flame Tree Website
This is my page on the Flame Tree site, where you can order any of my Flame Tree novels, including Your Turn to Suffer.
https://www.flametreepress.com/authors/Tim-Waggoner.html
Amazon
Barnes and Noble
Hardcover: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/your-turn-to-suffer-tim-waggoner/1137330372?ean=9781787585188
Paperback: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/your-turn-to-suffer-tim-waggoner/1137330372?ean=9781787585164
NOOK Book: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/your-turn-to-suffer-tim-waggoner/1137330372?ean=9781787585201
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July 18, 2021
The Waggoner Fiction Formula!
I’ve served as a mentor for the Horror Writers Association for a while now, and one of my current mentees recently sent me an email to ask where I get my ideas for stories. She told me about a time in third grade when she was afraid of one of the school restrooms – something about it just seemed wrong to her – but she wasn’t sure how to use that experience as fuel for a story.
The only way that I could think to explain my process to her was to literally work through my story-generating process using the experience she told me about, as if it was my idea that I wanted to turn into a finished story. After I sent my reply to her, it occurred to me that other people might find it useful/interesting to read, so I copied it and have pasted it below. I don’t know if you could call it a formula for writing a short story precisely, but it is the closest I have to one.
Dear ______
Over the years, I've trained myself to look for horror story ideas. If I see or hear or read anything that strikes me as odd or strange, I write a note to myself about it (usually using the notepad app on my phone). I write down phrases and images that I encounter while reading and watching TV/movies that seem weird too. Then when it's time to write a story, I go through my idea list and pick two or three items I like, but which aren't necessarily related. Sometimes I might have a cool-sounding phrase in my idea list that might make a good title. I then try to connect these ideas to some kind of experience I've had so I can give the story an emotional core. I don't follow all the specific details of my experience. I change them as needed to fit the story, but the emotional core is still there.
I was never afraid of a bathroom at school, but let's pretend I was. I did have an experience in junior high where two bullies waited in the restroom for me and one punched me in stomach (not too hard). They did this two days in a row and never bothered me after that. So I could use that experience to give the haunted bathroom story an emotional core. Maybe I'll create an adult character who encounters the same young bullies that bothered him in junior high in a restroom where he works. The kids haven't aged a day, and each time they bully him, their actions are more violent. One of the phrases on my current idea list is Wolves in the Woods. That could a make a cool title for the story because the bullies are like wolves hiding in the woods waiting to pounce on a victim. Once I have these things to work with, I think about my character, who he is, where he works, what's going on in his life that might be causing him to relive the humiliating experience from junior high, only it’s so much worse now. I ask myself what would he do? The first encounter with the bullies would be unexpected, and the character might think he hallucinated or is going crazy. He might try to forget about the experience, but then it happens again. After the second time, what does he do? Avoid the bathroom at work? See a therapist? Do the bullies start harassing him in other places? Does his therapist suggest he confront the bullies in the hope that their attacks will end? I like to give my stories an unexpected ending that takes the basic concept/theme of the story and turns it on its head. So during the last confrontation with the bullies, they taunt him to the point where he attacks them and beats them up severely. The bullies, all beaten and bloody, say that he's just like them, he always was, he just never had the courage to lash out. The bullies have come to bring out the bully in him. In their minds, they're doing him a favor. The bullies fade away then, but I'd have traces of their blood remain in the bathroom to make the reader wonder if they were real or not. The main character leaves the bathroom, and he becomes a bully finally. Now that I know the ending, I'd go back to the beginning and have the character be humiliated by someone at work -- a boss who berates him, a co-worker who's taken credit for something he did, maybe someone who's rejected him romantically. Or maybe I'd have all three of those people humiliate him. Then at the end, because he's now a bully -- one who's killed two maybe-real, maybe-not-real kids -- he's going to go kill the people at work who humiliated him. As I start drafting the story, I might change any of these story elements if better ideas occur to me, but once I have a story plotted out this far, I usually don't make any huge changes when I write it. As i write the story, I focus on the main character's thoughts and feelings, trying to show his fear and his slowly rising anger at the bullies (to set up the ending), and I'd try to create an atmosphere of dread and suspense throughout. To start it off strong, I'd begin the story with the last encounter with the bullies in progress, then I'd flashback to the day when the main character was humiliated with his co-workers (and I'd show a flash or two of anger that he doesn't act on). Then I'd write the first encounter with the bullies. I'd show the reader that he was bullied by these same two kids in junior high (maybe by having him check an old year book to make sure it's them). To make things weirder, I'd have him check social media and discover the two bullies are alive and are adults. I might even have him email one bully who apologizes for being a jerk in school to him. I'd intercut his investigation of the bullies' current lives with one or two more encounters with the young bullies. At this point, I probably wouldn't want to add any more characters, so I'd drop the therapist character and have the adult bully write something in his email about the importance of confronting one's past, etc. That would motivate the main character to have one last confrontation with the kid bullies. By this point, the story has caught up with the opening scene, and I'd finish it as I talked about above and end the story.
Once I have enough elements for a short story – the main character, his humiliation at work, the bullies in the bathroom at work, the adult bullies in real life – I stop adding elements and do my best to create the story from the ones I have, fleshing them out and connecting them, and making those connections tighter and stronger as I write.
I have no idea if any of this information helps, but it's a good description/explanation of where I get ideas and what I do with them to turn them into a finished story.
DEPARTMENT OF SHAMELESS SELF-PROMOTION
Short Fiction
If you’d like to see my process in action, you can read or listen to some of my stories for free on my website:
https://timwaggoner.com/stories.htm
You can also check out my most recent short story collection, the Bram Stoker Award Finalist Dark and Distant Voices.
“This is every card in the horror deck, played by someone who knows the game better than most of us ever will.” – Stephen Graham Jones, author of The Only Good Indians and Mongrels.
“‘Hell is other people,’ Jean-Paul Sartre tells us. ‘Especially the one we see in the mirror,’ implicitly says Tim Waggoner. Both give us the theme of Waggoner's splendid Dark and Distant Voices. Our children we don't quite recognize, colleagues not all that collegial, ghosts who silently speak the Truth ... They're all here and more in Waggoner's brilliant story collection."-Mort Castle, author of The Strangers and Cursed be the Child
Amazon
Barnes and Noble
Print: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/dark-and-distant-voices-tim-waggoner/1129652960?ean=9781938644252
Nook: Not available.
Halloween Kills: The Official Movie Novelization
I was thrilled to get the gig to write the novelization of the upcoming film Halloween Kills. Michael Myers is my absolute favorite slasher icon, and it was a dream come true to get to write a Halloweenstory. The book’s due out Oct. 19th, a week after the film releases, but it’s available for preorder now.
Amazon
Barnes and Noble
Print: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/halloween-kills-tim-waggoner/1139229840?ean=9781789096019
Nook: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/halloween-kills-tim-waggoner/1139229840?ean=9781789096194
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July 10, 2021
Horror Story Worksheet
HORROR STORY WORKSHEET
TIM WAGGONER
I’ve been writing and teaching writing for almost forty years now, and as you might imagine, I’ve given feedback on a lot of student stories – I mean, a lot. I see many of the same problems with beginners’ fiction, especially horror and dark fantasy, since that’s what I specialize in. While I know there’s no such thing as a fool-proof formula for writing a short story, as a teacher, I try to give students enough guidance in terms of structure to get them started on their way. This morning, as I was reading a couple stories for feedback, it occurred to me that it might be helpful for beginners if they had a story worksheet that they could fill out, and so I decided to make one.
A couple words of caution. A worksheet like this isn’t for everyone. If you find it stifling rather than inspiring, don’t use it. (Although, if you ever find yourself blocked, you can give it another try and see if it helps.) You don’t need to provide information for every item. Fill in however much or little you want. Hell, you can just read over the worksheet then sit down to write without filling in anything. This isn’t a school assignment. It’s a tool to use however you see fit. Also, the worksheet is a basic one. It doesn’t cover all the ways that a story can be structured. How could it? Each time we write a story, it’s at least a little different from any we’ve written before, than any story anyone’s written before. But I think the worksheet provides a decent framework for writers still learning how to write short stories. Also keep in mind that the areas I include on the worksheet are what I think are important for short fiction. Other writers would present items/have different advice – which is as it should be. You should learn from as many people as you can, take what works for you, and forget the rest.
One last thing to consider. I’ve created this worksheet to help people write horror stories, but it’ll work for many different kinds of fiction. For example, one item on the worksheet is the Bad Thing. In horror, that could be a killer, a monster, a malicious force, but in realistic fiction, it could be a decaying relationship or someone realizing they’re living a life that’s not genuine to who they really are.
Okay, I lied. Here’s the last thing to consider. Feel free to adapt the worksheet to your own needs, adding or subtracting elements as you wish. Feel free to use it in writing groups, and in classes and workshops you teach. I’ll be grateful if you give me credit for creating the worksheet, but I don’t care if you do. I only care that the worksheet helps people write more successful stories.
All right. Let’s get started.
MAIN CHARACTER
Normal or Not-So-Normal
Short stories should focus on a single main character and have only one or two supporting characters. They’re short, so there’s not a lot of room for a larger cast.
Horror stories tend to have one of two characters types. A Normal Person (for lack of a better phrase) or an Abnormal Person. Poe’s “The Tell-Tale Heart” is a prime example of an abnormal main character. The character’s abnormality is usually a psychological one (such as a pathological fear of being caught outside in a thunderstorm) that may or may not have a direct bearing on the main story threat (although it often does). Having an abnormal main character can add to the overall weirdness of your story, but it might be harder for readers to relate to your character.
HOW DOES YOUR MAIN CHARACTER SOLVE PROBLEMS?
Does your main character directly confront problems? Indirectly confront them? Seek others’ help in dealing with them? Ignore them for as long as possible? Try to avoid them completely? Manipulate others into dealing with them? How your character deals with problems gives your story its shape. It’s the most important thing you can know about your character.
HOW DOES YOUR MAIN CHARACTER REACT TO STRESS AND DEAL WITH FEAR?
In horror stories, bad stuff happens. Characters are under stress and they experience fear. You need to know how they react to stress and fear, and what toll stress and fear takes on them. (This may overlap with how they solve problems.) Do they keep going despite stress and fear? Do they feel they have to stop partway through the story? (Don’t let them!) Do they deny bad things are happening? Do they find their sense of reality shaken? What will they do when pushed to their breaking point and beyond?
STORY CONCEPT
What makes your story different? A lot of beginners’ horror stories have only the most basic concepts. There is a ghost. There is a killer. There is a werewolf. Those aren’t full-fledged concepts, though, and there’s nothing different about them. Recently, I was asked to write a story for an anthology dealing with classic monsters. I chose to write about a werewolf, and the concept I came up with is that when a member of the pack gets old, he or she goes into the woods, and a loved one “hunts” them to give them a final fight and a chance to die what, to their kind, is a dignified death. Werewolfis a trope. The concept is the approach to or spin on a trope. It’s what you dowith a trope.
BAD THING
A lot of time in beginners’ horror stories, the Bad Thing is merely a trope – a witch, a zombie, a haunted house. But a Bad Thing should have some connection to the character. So instead of writing about a character encountering a generic ghost, write about a character confronting the ghost – hopefully, an atypical one – with a connection to them. Maybe your character must confront the ghost of a dog that he or she failed to watch properly as a child, and the dog got out of the yard and was killed. The character feels guilt and the dog-ghost feels that its master betrayed it. I’d end this story with some kind of twist, like the dog actually wanting the character to die and join it as a ghost so they can be together again.
EMOTIONAL CORE
A short story should focus on a single emotional core. The dog-ghost story’s emotional core is guilt and that guilt is centered on one specific incident – the character’s failure to properly supervise the dog and the dog getting killed because of it. Everything in the story, whether directly, indirectly, or symbolically, should connect to the emotional core.
MAIN CHARACTER’S RELATIONSHIP TO THE EMOTIONAL CORE
For the dog-ghost story, the most obvious connection is the character’s relationship to the dog, and his or her guilt over the dog’s death. I’d extend this to the rest of the character’s life, and have them become hyper-vigilant as an adult, maybe working as a security professional in some capacity. If the character’s need to watch over others becomes pathological, then he or she would become an abnormal character.
ANTICIPATION/BUILD TO CONFRONTATION POINT
The Confrontation Point is when your main character is forced to confront the Bad Thing. It’s what your story builds up to. These are small encounters with the Bad Thing, incidents that may be direct or indirect encounters, and which become increasingly worse/bigger/more blatant as the story goes on.
CONFRONTATION POINT
Your main character comes face-to-face with the Bad Thing. What happens? In horror, the most clichéd ending is “. . . and then the character died.” Try to avoid that. See if you can have the Confrontation Point be something that both grows out of the emotional core and which also isn’t a cliché. For the dog-ghost story, I would have the ghost-dog chase and knock down the character. The character thinks they’re going to be killed, but the ghost-dog licks their face (which sets up the ending). Yeah, the character dies, but they end up as a ghost companion to their dog.
COOL ENDING
The encounter with the Bad Thing is resolved in a way that makes your reader say, “Whoa! I did NOT see that coming!” This could be a positive ending or a negative one. Your character succeeds fully in obtaining their goal, succeeds partially, fails completely, fails partially, succeeds or fails in an unexpected way. I often go for what I think of is a weirdly happy ending. I’ve already said that my hypothetical ghost-dog story ends with the main character becoming a ghost and staying with the dog. The character is dead (which is a failure to survive the encounter) but they’re happy being reunited with their dog and are free of the guilt they’ve carried for so long (an unexpected success). In horror, if you can give your reader a last scare, a final eerie image or idea, so much the better.
The following items aren’t necessarily horror specific, but they’re issues beginning writers of all types need to address.
NARRATIVE APPROACH
· Straight (Beginning, middle, end). In general, this is the best approach for beginners to take. When you get good at this, you can try more advanced narrative approaches.
· Straight intercut with flashbacks (Current event, flashback, current event, flashback, etc.).
· Frame (Present, Bulk of story is in the past, Present Ending).
· Nonlinear (This is like a mosaic approach; events are presented to the reader in whatever order you wish.)
NARRATIVE STARTING POINT
This is the beginning that your readers will read. Start as close to the Confrontation Point as possible – always good advice for writing short fiction.
INCITING INCIDENT
May not be the Narrative Starting Point. An Inciting Incident is what kicks off the story problem (which in horror is the Bad Thing). For the dog-ghost story, the dog’s death is the inciting incident. My Narrative Starting Point might be when the dog’s owner, now grown, drives past his or her childhood home for the first time since the dog’s death. (The family moved shortly after.) The ghost-dog follows the character home and the story gets moving.
BACKGROUND/HISTORY
Keep this to a minimum. Horror often has an aspect of the past impinging on the present, and there’s always the issue of the character’s background too. Too often, all this background/history overwhelms the actual narrative. In general, try to keep the background/history to only 10 percent of your story (if that much). If you have trouble restraining yourself when it comes to background/history, keep two files open as you write. One is for the forward-moving story, the other is for background/history. Jump back and forth between them as needed, but don’t put any background/history into the forward-moving story. When you’re finished, take only the most absolutely necessary background/history details and sprinkle them into your story.
That’s it for the worksheet. I’ll put the items without any explanation below, so you can copy them and use them more easily. I hope you find this worksheet useful! If there’s something you think should be added to the worksheet, let me know.
HORROR STORY WORKSHEET
MAIN CHARACTER
HOW DOES YOUR MAIN CHARACTER SOLVE PROBLEMS?
HOW DOES YOUR MAIN CHARACTER REACT TO STRESS AND DEAL WITH FEAR?
STORY CONCEPT
BAD THING
EMOTIONAL CORE
MAIN CHARACTER’S RELATIONSHIP TO THE EMOTIONAL CORE
ANTICIPATION/BUILD TO CONFRONTATION POINT
CONFRONTATION POINT
COOL ENDING
NARRATIVE APPROACH
NARRATIVE STARTING POINT
INCITING INCIDENT
BACKGROUND/HISTORY
DEPARTMENT OF SHAMELESS SELF-PROMOTION
Want to read more of my writing advice? I’ve got two books you can check out.
Writing in the Darkis my Bram Stoker Award-Winning book on how to write horror. It’s available in both print and e-editions.
You can order direct from Raw Dog Screaming Press here:
http://rawdogscreaming.com/books/writing-in-the-dark/
From Amazon here:
From Barnes and Noble here:
Paperback: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/writing-in-the-dark-tim-waggoner/1137057460?ean=9781947879195
Hardcover: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/writing-in-the-dark-tim-waggoner/1137057460?ean=9781947879232
The Art of Writing Genre Fiction, written with Michael Knost collects craft essays from both of use. (Currently only available in print.)
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June 15, 2021
I'm Warning You . . .
Horror Twitter exploded into another debate about trigger/content warnings last week. My wife and I were visiting friends in South Carolina when it all went down, so I’m sure I only saw a small part of the discussion, some of which was, shall we say, less than civil? However, what I did see got me thinking again about the issue of content warnings (my preferred term) and whether I should apply them to my own work. As of now, I haven’t used content warnings for my horror fiction, and I’m still considering how I feel about them. So I hope you’ll view this post more as me thinking out loud about the matter rather than specific advice on whether you should include content warnings and how best to do it.
Just in case you’re unaware of what content warnings are, here are a few good articles about content warnings in horror – pro, con, and in between (with advice on how to use them):
https://jamigold.com/2019/08/content-warnings-how-and-what-to-include/
https://divinationhollow.com/reviews-and-articles/this-books-about-what-an-essay-by-tabatha-wood
https://litreactor.com/columns/lets-talk-about-trigger-warnings
https://mythcreants.com/blog/why-we-shouldnt-be-fighting-over-trigger-warnings/
http://terribleminds.com/ramble/2015/02/02/on-the-subject-of-trigger-warnings/comment-page-2/
Alan Baxter has created a content warning section for his work on his website. You can view it here: https://www.alanbaxteronline.com/content-warnings/
As I talk about my thoughts and feelings regarding content warnings, know this: I have no problem with any readers who prefer content warnings in horror fiction or with writers who wish to provide them. I do not think that readers who prefer content warnings are psychologically weak. I also have no problem with readers and writers who dislike content warnings and prefer not to use them. And when I talk about a cultural shift that’s occurred in America over the last few decades, I do not view that shift as a negative one. I also do not support denigrating or harassing anyone for any reason, including during debates about contentious issues such as content warnings. It’s one thing to discuss an issue online. It’s another to call people names, send them hateful DM’s, or resort to comparing content warnings to Nazi Germany (which happened).
I also don’t want to give the impression that I only saw vitriolic posts during the debate about content warnings. I saw many posts that were polite, reasonable, and respectful of different points of views.
I debated whether to write this post, partly because my thoughts on content warnings aren’t fully formed yet, partly because I wasn’t sure what I had to contribute to the conversation about them, and partly because who needs people attacking you online for your views on a controversial topic? But I find myself continually thinking about content warnings, so I decided to go ahead and write this post, if for no other reason than so I can get all this stuff out of my head and get back to writing the book I have due at the end of the month.
I see the debate over content warnings as part of a cultural shift in America that’s been taking place for a while now. As an English professor in a community college, I often teach young people – mid teens to early twenties – and I’ve done so for the last thirty years. This by no means makes me some kind of expert on how our culture has changed over the decades, but it’s given me a viewpoint that people who don’t work with young people may not have. The shift is a move toward viewing one’s self as a member of a group and thinking in terms of one’s duty to the group and what’s best for the group. One of the greatest – if not THE greatest – sin one can commit is not to consider someone else’s feelings and to intentionally or unintentionally cause them emotional harm of any sort. A big part of avoiding causing this sort of harm is knowing specific labels/terms/words to use or avoid when discussing emotional issues.
This duty to others, like so many beliefs in a culture, is absolute. If you do not do your utmost to avoid doing harm, you’re a self-centered jerk at best, and at worst you are evil. Some of the group will ignore you, some will ostracize you, some will try to educate you, and some will come down upon you like the wrath of God, and they will see whatever actions they take against you as justified because you have shown yourself to be Evil with a capital E. You are an Intentional Emotional-Harmer of Others and you deserve whatever happens to you. There is no room for nuance or opposing points of views regarding these matters. The thinking is very binary: Either you care about others or you don’t.
I’m 57. I started writing seriously with the goal of making it my life’s work when I was eighteen. When I began my career, the cultural attitude was that an adult should be respected as such. Adults were responsible for themselves and their choices, as well as how they dealt with the problems they faced, whether those problems were expected or unexpected. To treat them any other way was highly disrespectful. It was like treating them as a child and saying they didn’t have what it took to function in the adult world.
The older viewpoint didn’t view emotional harm as seriously as physical, economic, or professional harm. Emotional harm was still an important aspect to deal with, but it was more important to try to fix the main problem first: recover from the accident, bounce back from bankruptcy, find a better job. The emotional aspect would be taken care of when the practical aspect was.
In the older view, when a creator makes something, they do so to satisfy themselves first, and they then hope others are satisfied by their efforts. Individuals adapt to the work as they experience it.
The newer viewpoint – emotional harm is potentially devastating and must be avoided at all costs – may have arisen from a culture that primarily interacts online. Thoughts and feelings are what their world is made of. It’s a completely psychological landscape. You must learn to communicate within this environment with absolute precision in order to avoid causing harm, and if you still cause harm anyway, you must apologize as fast as possible, attempt to rectify the situation, and pledge to do better.
In addition, their technology quickly adapts to an individual’s needs, creating a similar cultural expectation, that content should be adapted to an individual. Therefore, a creator exists to provide work that will adapt to the individual as needed.
So what does all this have to do with content warnings?
If it’s a current cultural value that individuals must be protected from emotional harm in any communication, then the communicator must do everything possible to ensure that happens. One way is to provide a warning before a communication so that a reader/listener/viewer is prepared as they go ahead or can choose to opt out if they deem it more mentally healthy for them to do so. Hence, the application of content warnings.
Viewed through the older cultural lens, you give the individual the respect of not treating them as if they need extra protection. They are an adult, not a child, and they are fully capable of handling whatever they read/listen to/watch. If it’s too emotionally difficult for them, they will avoid certain content to begin with. If they start to engage with content and then find it too emotionally difficult for them, they will opt out at that point. And if they did experience negative emotions or had a traumatic reaction to certain content, they are an adult and know how to best to take care of themselves afterward. Hence, the addition of content warnings is viewed as disrespectful or as an insult to an adult audience member. So content warnings should not be used.
Both of these attitudes focus on respecting other humans, but both of them try to do so in very different ways, and proponents of either viewpoint seem incapable of understanding where the other is coming from. (Probably because social media is a lousy tool for effective communication on complex topics.)
To sum up: The older view is that you should take care of yourself, and I should respect you enough to let you do so. The newer view is that you should take care of me (or we all should take care of each other).
Other attitudes/statements regarding content warnings I’ve seen posted on Twitter recently:
· I don’t want to include content warnings because artists should have no restraints placed on them or their work, whether by others or by themselves.
· I don’t want to include content warnings because they could work as spoilers.
· I don’t want to include content warnings because they’re pandering to the audience.
· Content warnings allow consumers to make effective choices.
· Content warnings are like a list of ingredients on a product.
· Content warnings are a form of censorship.
· Content warnings are nothing like censorship.
· If you value empathy, you’ll use content warnings.
· If you don’t use content warnings, you don’t care about anyone but yourself.
· If you read/watch/listen to something, you are knowingly taking a risk that it might hurt you, and that’s your choice.
· If you don’t provide content warnings, you are choosing to (potentially) hurt me.
· I want to feel safe and protected when I read/watch/listen, and if a writer doesn’t provide content warnings, they don’t want me to feel safe and protected.
· Art – especially horror – isn’t about making people feel safe.
· Not providing content warnings is ableist.
· How do you decide what content any or all audience members will find emotionally harmful? Anyone can potentially have a negative emotional reaction to anything in a story, movie, etc. How could you possibly list them all?
· It doesn’t matter how long your list is: list every potential emotionally harmful element.
· List only the most traumatic of elements, such as sexual assault, child abuse, etc.
· Put content warnings at the front of a work.
· Put content warnings at the end of a work, with a note in the front saying where the audience can find them if they want.
· Horror is already a content warning in and of itself.
· Horror is about entertainment, not purposely traumatizing people.
· Content warnings could be used negatively against writers of color and LGBTQ+ authors. (The thinking is that since so many white cishet readers are already reluctant to try work by writers from other backgrounds, seeing content warnings could give them an additional excuse to pass on those works, an excuse that allows them to feel that they aren’t being racist, homophobic, transphobic, etc.)
· Content warnings privilege white cishet triggers.
· No one is talking about mandating content warnings. (Although I did see a couple publishers state that all their books would have content warnings from now on, which sounds mandated to me.)
· There’s fear that the conflict over content warnings will lead to cyberbullying and canceling of writers who don’t use content warnings.
· Rating labels for movies, music, and TV have not worked for those media’s benefit, and something similar may happen with content warnings for books.
· If you don’t use content warnings, some readers may take their business elsewhere.
One of the most contentious issues I’ve seen regarding content warnings is the idea of whether they are or aren’t censorship. These arguments drive me crazy because people split hairs about the definition of censorship. Some say only governments can engage in censorship, while others use a broader definition. Some use the denotation of the word to bolster their arguments while others use the connotation. The American Civil Liberties Union defines censorship thusly: “Censorship, the suppression of words, images, or ideas that are ‘offensive,’ happens whenever some people succeed in imposing their personal political or moral values on others. Censorship can be carried out by the government as well as private pressure groups. Censorship by the government is unconstitutional.” Note that this definition is broader than what many people consider censorship to be.
Are content warnings in and of themselves censorship, regardless of your specific definition? No. Could they lead to censorship, including self-censorship on the part of artists? Sure. During the recent Twitter debate on trigger warnings, I read a post from a person who was a proponent of content warnings. After praising content warnings, he went on to say that writers should ask themselves why they include material that needs content warnings in the first place, and that they should reconsider including that content at all. There’s a logical progression when it comes to trying to protect people from potentially emotionally harmful content: This content hurts people. I should warn people about this content. I shouldn’t create such content. No one should create such content. We must stop people from creating this sort of content. Will content warnings lead to content policing and then to censorship? Who knows? But are people idiots or evil because they wonder if it will? Nope. It’s a perfectly reasonable thing to consider. (But it’s not reasonable to play the “This is how Nazi Germany started!” card.)
So how do I feel about content warnings on my own work? I haven’t used them so far. I’m part of the respect the individual and allow them to make their own choices and deal with their own experiences culture. That’s what I grew up with. To me, the label Horror is already a content warning. When I read or watch a work of horror, I know there’s a possibility that I might encounter any type of content, and I find that exciting. Horror is about the unknown, right? But while certain kinds of content might be too much for me to read, I don’t have any traumatic experiences that have resulted in PTSD, so I don’t have to worry about that I might encounter material that would result in my having a painful flashback. My wife is 41 and experienced significant abuse when she was younger. I asked how she felt about content warnings, if she would appreciate them, especially in horror, and she laughed. She too felt that Horror is a warning in and of itself, and she doesn’t expect any creator to warn her of content she might find triggering. She believes in dealing with whatever reaction she has. And as she has significant PTSD, she has some really strong reactions to certain content.
For me, the presentation of a book or movie (the cover/poster, the ad copy, etc.) and reviews provide all the information I need to make a choice as a consumer, although I don’t think of myself as a consumer as much as an experiencer of art, even if that art is entertainment-focused. I also realized this weekend that when I see content warnings on a work, I’m less likely to read it. I feel the warnings are spoilery to a certain extent, and I also feel like the writer is someone who’s likely to pull their punches in their fiction in order to avoid possibly hurting anyone. I had no idea I thought these things, especially the latter, and I was surprised. But the horror culture I grew up in believed that adults should confront the darkness both in themselves and without, and while no one faulted you for avoiding certain books or movies (I couldn’t bring myself to read Jack Ketchum’s legendary The Girl Next Door for years because I thought it would so emotionally devastating), there was an expectation of confrontation, not avoidance. I think this is why some people react so strongly to the idea of content warnings. In older horror cultural terms, such warnings are anti-confrontational, and thus anti-horror.
On Twitter I mused about what sort of content warning I could put on my horror novels. I came up with a summary-type one, the kind of thing you see as a movie content warning on Netflix: “This book contains scenes of violence and sexual content, as well as nightmarish imagery some readers might find disturbing.” I’d be fine with that because it gives readers a feeling for what they might encounter without providing specifics of the story that might be spoilers. I suspect a statement like this doesn’t go far enough for most proponents of content warnings, though.
I’d rather lose readers than provide a long list of every possible element in one of my novels that could conceivably cause someone emotional harm. I don’t want anyone to be traumatized by my fiction. I’d prefer people who think they might be traumatized by my work to read something else. But if someone chooses to take a chance on my work, I feel I have to respect their choice. But it seems to me that providing a list of content warnings, wherever it appears in the book drains some of the book’s energy, undercutting its suspense and making the horror too known to a reader before starting.
I also don’t see how any work of art can be made all-inclusive. As soon as you write in a genre, you’re already excluding people who prefer not to read in that genre. Some people don’t like fiction at all, let alone don’t like horror fiction. Someone who readers only romance could very well hate my horror novel, so they’re already excluded because I’ve chosen to write horror. (Back in the early days of social networks, a romance writer was invited into a private horror writers’ topic on the old GEnie network. She could not understand why all horror novels didn’t have happy endings like romance novels did. What was the point of a story if it didn’t have a happy ending?) Plus, it’s not like my books are the only horror books available. If you don’t feel comfortable taking a chance on any of mine, there are zillions of others to choose from.
I’m going to keep paying attention to conversations about content warnings, and I hope to continue learning from them. Maybe I’ll start using content warnings with my horror fiction, maybe I won’t. I respect writers and readers who want to use content warnings, though, and I’ll work on overcoming whatever prejudices I have toward such warnings as a reader, some of which I’m probably unaware of yet.
What do I advise for you? Do what you think is best for yourself and your readers, naturally. And if you think content warnings are ridiculous, childish, or will bring about the downfall of civilization, I hope you’ll reconsider your attitude toward them, whether you use them or not. And if you think creators who don’t wish to provide content warnings are sociopathic monsters, I hope you’ll consider the notion that they may not want to hurt anyone and that they merely hold a different view about how their content should be presented and perceived.
And as for this particular piece of content, it’s over.
DEPARTMENT OF SHAMELESS SELF-PROMOTION
My horror/fantasy novel Your Turn to Suffer is still available! Should it come with content warnings? Read it and decide for yourself. It’s available from Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and other online vendors, but you can also find it – and my other Flame Tree horror novels – on the Flame Tree Press site: https://www.flametreepress.com/authors/Tim-Waggoner.html
“Your Turn to Suffer is deliciously creepy, at times rather gory, always entertaining.” – From Belgium with Book Love
“It is a gory, wild, and unpredictable ride from beginning to end.” – Horror Oasis on Your Turn to Suffer
“A lot of people get to suffer in Your Turn to Suffer, and when it goes batshit off-the-rails crazy, that's where the story finds its dark, bloody, shadowy heart.” – Beauty in Ruins
May 11, 2021
Here's the Wind-Up!
Since some of you reading this may be pitching projects to agents and editors at Stokercon in a couple weeks, I thought I’d offer some tips on pitching.
Three Sections to the Pitch Technique
First is the one-sentence tag (This is a horror thriller that is very much Freddy Krueger meets Rambo). Then the slightly longer explanation (This is a story about an ex-military black ops captain who stumbles into a nightmare world where dreams can kill you, and it's presided over a devil-like creature who feeds of peoples' fears.)
Then be prepared to give a two-minute summary of the plot, detailing the hero's ups and downs in the story, any major subplots, how he finally wins (or doesn’t), and why this story is going to attract readers – what makes it different from others in the genre.
In a way, your pitch is a lot like a verbal cover letter. (And this technique can be used to create an effective cover letter, too!)
And, because you've done your homework, you know what the agent/editor is a fan of and what works they've previously bought and published, you can use those insights in your pitch.
Pitching Resources:
Here are some resources I use in my Writing to Publish class when we practice pitches:
How to Pitch at a Writers’ Conference: https://www.janefriedman.com/pitch-agents-writers-conference/
Crafting an Irresistible Elevator Pitch: http://graemeshimmin.com/creating-an-irresistible-elevator-pitch/
Video – How to Pitch Your Book to a Literary Agent: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2hweAQTUiyQ
Video: Let’s Write a Twitter Pitch: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QMJlCjg2sZ8
I really like this last video because a lot of agents and editors take pitches during designated pitch weekends on Twitter – see https://pitchwars.org/pitmad/ – and pitching on that platform requires a different style.
NOTE: This mini-article is reprinted from the last newsletter I sent out. I include a couple original articles like this in ever issue of my newsletter, most of which I don't reprint anywhere else. If you'd like to subscribe to my newsletter, you can do so here: https://timwaggoner.com/contact.htm
March 30, 2021
Writing with an Emotional Core
Aspiring writers are forever searching for The Secret: the single trick or technique that will elevate their writing from promisingto publishable. Old pros say there is no secret to getting published, that it’s simply the result of hard work – reading a lot, writing a lot, getting feedback on your work, learning how to market your work, etc. – and I wouldn’t dispute that. But there is one element missing all too often from beginners’ fiction, and I’d argue that it’s one of the most important aspects of creating successful, compelling stories, and it’s as close to The Secret as anyone is likely to get: writing with an emotional core.
Successful stories should entertain, stimulate the imagination, and provide an artistic experience, but they also need to move readers emotionally. At the heart of a story – and there’s a reason we call it the heart– should lie a strong emotional core. It is, in a very real sense, what a story is ultimately about. For example, on the surface the movie Back to the Future appears to be about a teenager who goes back in time and prevents his parents’ meeting, thereby endangering his own existence. He needs to get his parents together, save himself, and then return to his own time. That’s the premise and basic plot of the film. But the emotional core of the film – why it moves audiences – is Marty McFly’s relationship with his parents and with Doc Brown. He gets to know his parents as teenagers like himself, gaining a new perspective on them. He feels connected to them as a family despite the gulf in years, and because he loves them, he can’t stop himself from trying to make their lives better in the past, even at the risk of altering the future in potentially disastrous ways. It’s the same for Doc. Marty loves him, and he can’t stand the idea of Doc getting killed in the future, so he tries to prevent it, despite Doc’s wishes. Simply put, the emotional core of the movie is love of family. Without this core, the movie might’ve been a fun adventure, but it wouldn’t be the much-loved classic it is today. The emotional core is what connects an audience to a story; it’s what makes a story matter to them.
Here are some things to think about in order to strengthen the emotional core in your stories.
What is the main emotional relationship/connection between characters in the story?
In Silence of the Lambs, the main emotional relationship is between Hannibal Lector and Clarice Starling, between predator and potential prey or, if you prefer, between wild animal and hunter. Starling wants to use Lector to catch another killer, and Lector wants to use Starling to amuse himself – andescape confinement. But the power dynamic between the two constantly shifts, and it’s unclear to the audience, as well as to the characters themselves, how they feel about each other and their roles. This ever-shifting unease – will Starling remain uncorrupted by Lector, can Starling’s inherent goodness, if not redeem him, reveal that he at least possesses some small measure of humanity? – is the true mystery that powers the story. And just like Back to the Future, it’s the emotional core that makes this story a classic, elevating it above a run-of-the-mill thriller.
So consider the characters in your story and decide what connects them. This doesn’t mean they have to have a positive relationship. Ahab’s relationship to Moby Dick isn’t exactly warm and fuzzy. Once you firm up the emotional relationship between the characters – once you’ve created a strong emotional core – then you can use that relationship as a foundation upon which the rest of your story rests. Or perhaps more accurately, as the seed from which your story will grow.
How is the emotional core reflected in the plot?
In Jaws, the emotional core is Sheriff Brody’s need to protect the people in his community. This creates conflict in the story because while Brody wants to keep people from being eaten by the shark, he always has a duty to protect the town’s economy, and the town depends on the money the summer people pump into it every year. If Brody closes the beaches, he kills the town. If he doesn’t close the beaches, more people will die. Brody is trapped in an impossible situation. He cannot protect everyone in every way. He must choose (just to be clear, this economic aspect of the story is more prevalent in the novel than in the film).
In my novel Mouth of the Dark, a middle-aged man’s twenty-year-old daughter is missing. The emotional core comes from his need to find her because he believes he’s failed her too many times in the past, and he’s determined not to fail her again – no matter what. Everything in the plot revolves around this need, and the character does things he would ordinarily never think of doing in order to find his daughter. In acting, this is called motivation, but when it comes to creating a story, the emotional core doesn’t just motivate your character, it motivates the story’s events as well. Write the emotional core of your story at the top of a piece of paper or Word document and list all the ways the core could be expressed in terms of plot events. If you have a plot event that doesn’t relate somehow to the core – especially for a short story – don’t include it when drafting.
How is the emotional core reflected in the setting?
In both Moby Dick and Jaws, the sea is the most important part of the setting. Ahab wants revenge and Brody wants to protect his town, but both of those motivations lead these characters to try to control the object of their respective hunts. But the sea is uncontrollable. It’s wild and dangerous, and it conceals rather than reveals. Struggling against it during the hunt will test each man and show what lengths he will go to, and what he’s willing to sacrifice, to find and kill his quarry.
In The Wizard of Oz, the land of Oz appears on the surface to be a beautiful, magical world, a place a little girl (in the book) or a young woman (in the film) would love to remain in forever – especially when she compares it to life in boring Dust-Bowl-era Kansas. But Oz is a confusing, dangerous place of Wicked Witches, deceitful (if ultimately kind-hearted) wizards, Tin Woodsmen created by mechanically replacing the lost body parts of a human man (read the book), creepy-as-hell flying monkeys, and other bizarre elements. It’s no wonder that Dorothy ultimately decides that the emotional core of the story – There’s no place like home – is a better choice than remaining in a beautiful but chaotic magical land.
Again, write down your emotional core and list all the ways your setting can reflect that core. Is the emotional core of your story Isolation? Think of all the ways your characters could be isolated, both the obvious and not-so-obvious ways. Is the emotional core of your story Sticking by a Friend No Matter What? Think of all the ways your protagonist could be challenged by the setting to continue sticking by his or her friend. For example, two characters are lost in the wilderness and one has a broken leg. What would make it difficult – maybe almost impossible – for the unhurt friend to remain with the injured one, despite his or her resolve to do so? Lack of food and water? Weather? Wolves?
How is the emotional core reflected in the theme?
First, a word about theme. Some writers make conscious decisions about theme while others don’t worry about it. If a theme happens to emerge while they’re writing, great. If not, no big deal. The important thing is to tell the story as well as you can. But I’d argue that an emotional core is the theme, at least with a little tweaking. Ahab wants revenge against Moby Dick, but he can never get revenge. The whale has no idea he hurt Ahab and nothing Ahab could do to him, including killing him, would ever make the whale sorry for what he did, would ever make him realize that Ahab was the one who killed him. So Ahab can never have the revenge he seeks, and thus the theme: Revenge is ultimately impossible and only leads to self-destruction. In Back to the Future, Marty’s love for Doc and his family leads to that story’s theme: Family connections transcend Time, and these connections define us, bind us, and in the end, might even save us.
Thinking about how the emotional core of your story can grow into a theme allows you to return to the story – to the characters, the plot, the setting – and strengthen the theme, making your story tighter, more focused, and ultimately more impactful for the audience.
How does the emotional core serve as a counterpoint to the plot and setting, and vice versa?
The emotional core, plot, and setting don’t have to complement each other. They can serve as counterpoints. A simple example would be a scene depicting a graveside funeral service. The emotional core is sorrow. The clichéd impact of the emotional core on the setting: a gloomy, rainy day. Counterpoint: a sunny day that seems at odds with the emotions the characters are feeling, or a pleasant, but bland day weather-wise, as if nothing important is happening when for the family, something extremely important is taking place: saying a final farewell to their loved one. By playing against the emotional core with the setting, you can actually intensify it.
In the movie Poltergeist the emotional core is the fear that your family isn’t safe even in their own home. Once the paranormal events in the house increase to a certain point, the family wants to get the hell out of there. The fear should drive them out, but little Carol Anne becomes trapped in a dark dimension adjacent to our world, a dimension only accessible through the house, so the parents must stay (they’re good parents, though, so they send Carol Anne’s older sister away rather than risk losing her, too). Plot-wise, the characters are forced to do the opposite of what they want to do, what the story’s emotional core is driving them to do. It’s the plotting power of emotional core counterpoint at its finest.
Each scene can have its own emotional core.
So far, I’ve been talking about emotional cores that serve as the center of entire stories. But each scene can have its own emotional core, one that may or may not be strongly tied into the overall emotional core. The example of the funeral service I used above can also serve as an example here. Sorrow might be the emotional core of such a scene, while struggling to maintain a marriage in the face of tragedy – such as the loss of a child – might be the overarching emotional core for the whole story. Adding emotional cores to your scenes will make each one of them have an impact on your audience, and they’ll build one upon the other, increasing people’s emotional investment in your story as it progresses toward its climax.
Emotional cores in short stories versus long stories.
Short stories need to be tighter and more focused than novels (tell us something we don’t know, Tim!). Because of this, you’ll likely have an important emotional relationship between two characters and no more. There simply isn’t room to develop multiple expressions of the emotional core in a short story. So if your short story is about an elderly man mourning the death of his beloved dog – a man who can connect with animals but who has trouble connecting with people – you won’t show multiple people trying to console him and reach out to him emotionally, as you could do in a novel. You’ll have only one person fulfill this role. His estranged son. The widow who lives down the street. A neighbor he’s never gotten along with but who understands the grief over losing a pet. Two main characters, one emotional core. That’s about all a short story can handle.
A novel, however, is another story (see what I did there?). If you want to write a novel about the elderly man who’s lost his dog, you can have all of the above characters be a part of it, and you can explore the emotional core on multiple levels and in multiple ways. Some writers claim that there are short story ideas and there are novel ideas, but the two aren’t interchangeable. While there might be some truth to this, you can often turn a short story idea into a novel idea – and the other way around – by expanding or narrowing the emotional core. By doing so, I could write about the elderly man at any length and complexity – and so could you.
Which should come first when drafting? The character, the plot, or the emotional core?
Short answer: It doesn’t matter as long as everything is in its place when the story is finished and ready to submit to an editor. I suggest starting wherever you feel the most creative energy and potential with a given story. If you’re really into the characters, start with them first. If you have an awesome idea for a story, but you’re not sure of anything else, work out the idea in detail and add other elements later. If you’re a planner, make decisions about your story’s emotional core before you begin drafting. If you prefer to write by the seat of your pants, start writing and work on firming up the emotional core in revisions. How you tend to the emotional core doesn’t matter. I’d argue that since the emotional core serves as a foundation for your story, the sooner you tend to it, the better, but the most important thing is that you do tend to it before you type The End.
Regardless of what kind of fiction you write – entertainment-focused, literary, genre-oriented, experimental, or some blend of these – make sure to write it with a strong emotional core. By doing so you’ll not only produce stories that readers will love, but stories they’ll remember long after they finish reading. Stories that change them, that make a difference in their lives. Stories that matter.
And in the end, aren’t those the kind of stories we all want to read and write?
DEPARTMENT OF SHAMELESS SELF-PROMOTION
Your Turn to Suffer
Reviews are coming in for my latest dark fantasy/horror novel Your Turn to Suffer, and so far, readers seem to dig it.
A few quotes:
“A lot of people get to suffer in Your Turn to Suffer, and when it goes batshit off-the-rails crazy, that's where the story finds its dark, bloody, shadowy heart.” – Beauty in Ruins
“The book is chilling, gory, surreal and heartbreaking. It’s not a story for people who like everything neatly tied up in a box with marshmallow endings. Instead, it’s more like a punch to the gut again and again and again.” – OutlawPoet
“Your Turn to Suffer is the most intense book I've read in a very long time. This title is dedicated to David Lynch, and that definitely makes sense. The sudden slips between normalcy and the surreal dreamscape are nightmarish to say the least. It’s cryptic, bizarre, horrible, beautiful, and most of it remains just out of reach. Until it doesn’t.” – Yet Another Sarah
Order Links for Your Turn to Suffer
Flame Tree Website
This is my page on the Flame Tree site, where you can order any of my Flame Tree novels, including Your Turn to Suffer.
https://www.flametreepress.com/authors/Tim-Waggoner.html
Amazon
Barnes and Noble
Hardcover: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/your-turn-to-suffer-tim-waggoner/1137330372?ean=9781787585188
Paperback: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/your-turn-to-suffer-tim-waggoner/1137330372?ean=9781787585164
NOOK Book: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/your-turn-to-suffer-tim-waggoner/1137330372?ean=9781787585201
New Video Up at My YouTube Channel
I recently posted a new video to the Writing in the Dark YouTube Channel. This one deals with my top six tips on writing extreme horror. You can check it out here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2mKqHIpVEjM
March 21, 2021
Success is a State of Mind
In my last blog post, “So You’re Never Going to be Stephen King” (which you can read here if you missed it: https://writinginthedarktw.blogspot.com/2021/02/so-youre-never-going-to-be-stephen-king.html) I wrote about coming to terms with the success we actually get as writers, as opposed to the kind of success most of us can only dream about. The topic definitely struck a nerve. Where most of my blogs get 200-300 views, that one got over 3,000. One of those readers was Bryan Young, from the League of Utah Writers. He got in touch with me and asked if I could give the group a talk based on my blog entry. I said “Sure,” and I retitled my presentation “Redefining Success as a Writer,” which is a hell of a lot more upbeat than the original title. I decided to make a PowerPoint for my talk, so I pulled up my blog entry, read it over, and realized that its content didn’t really lend itself to a presentation. I’d need to create an entirely new version. So I did. I presented it, the group seemed to think it was worthwhile, and I was pleased (and more than a little relieved).
Afterward, I started thinking that this new presentation would make a good follow-up to “So You’re Never Going to be Stephen King.” And lo and behold, it has come to pass. Following is the information I presented to the Utah Writers Group, tweaked here and there, and with a couple additions that have occurred to me in the few days since I had the pleasure of speaking to the group. If, like so many writers (or creatives in general), you struggle with what success in our field means for you, I hope you’ll find this entry helpful. First, let’s talk about . . .
Common Views of Writing Success
There are lots of ways that writers view success, and we likely hold a combination of them at any given time. But the most basic of these are: 1) Finishing a writing project. 2) Getting it published in any way, shape, or form. 3) Having someone read your work, enjoy it, and think it’s good. Important foundational goals for a writer, I’d say, and healthy ones. You could argue there’s a lack of ambition to them, I suppose, but as I said, these are foundational goals, ones upon which you can build.
Getting a literary agent is a big marker of success for many writers, and some writers are so desperate to achieve this goal that they’ll sign with the first agent who asks them, regardless if that agent is a good fit for them or not. (Or even if the agent isn’t a very good one.) Just having someone in the publishing world believe in your work is a huge boost, and so many writers are starving for this kind of validation.
Even with the current ease of self-publishing, many writers see becoming traditionally published as an important marker of success. You have to make it over a lot of hurdles to get traditionally published, especially with the larger houses, and if you reach the finish line, it’s a huge accomplishment. Indie publishing is far more respected than it was when I started out in the early 1980’s, but I’d say writers in general still view being traditionally published as a greater badge of honor.
Having a large audience is extremely important for a lot of writers. The more people who read your work, the better it must be, right?
Getting good reviews is another measure of our work’s quality. The more stars readers give us on Amazon or Goodreads, the better. Same for book review websites and podcasts.
Many writers make it a goal to join professional writers’ organizations, such as HWA, SFWA, MWA, RWA, ITW, WWA, the IAMTW, etc. (If you don’t know what all these acronyms mean, Google Is Your Friend.) Writers need to meet certain requirements to be eligible to join, and once you have joined, you belong to an organization which considers you a professional writer. You can tell people you’re a member of HWA, put it on your website, your business cards, in cover and query letters, etc. This is another huge validation for many.
Being interviewed, asked to present workshops, asked to be a special guest at writing conferences . . . When people approach you for any of these things, it means they view you as a “real writer,” one whom readers are interested in hearing from or being taught by. There are people who view you as an Important Expert (or maybe just a lowercase important expert), and that feels good.
Making money. I’ve lived in America all my life, and the more money you make here, the more successful you are. And if you can make money from producing art – an activity American culture doesn’t place a very high value on – the better writer you must be, as well as being a savvy business-person.
Writers often refer to writing full time – making your living entirely from your writing – as The Dream, one of the most cherished and sought-after milestones in a writing career. If you can put food on the table and pay your bills solely by putting words onto a page, it’s like you’re some kind of goddamn magician. Full-time writers are often the envy of their peers who still have day jobs.
Winning awards. You get one of these, you have to be a good writer, right? Maybe even a great one. After all, you’ve got a physical trophy that says so.
Having your work adapted for film or TV is another huge marker of success. You get some money, which is awesome, but just as good, your work gets in front of the eyes of far more people than your written words will likely ever reach. Plus, even writers often view film or TV as more important mediums than the written word, almost as if their stories aren’t quite real – or perhaps haven’t reached their full potential – until they’ve been adapted for a movie or TV show.
So what’s the problem with these common views of writerly success? Most of these items are beyond our control. Once we’ve made our writing the best it can be, success in any of these areas depends almost entirely on market forces, the decisions of other people, and a hell of a lot of luck. It’s kind of like basing your idea of success in life on whether or not you win the lottery. Not the healthiest or most sustainable of viewpoints.
Drawbacks to the Common Views of Writing Success
You may not achieve all of them during your career. You certainly won’t – or at least are unlikely to – achieve them all at the same time.
You’re following someone else’s paradigms for success, not necessarily yours.
If you try to do too much at once, you might scatter your focus and energy, and you’ll have a difficult time achieving anything.
If you’re focused on achieving All the Things, you might not appreciate what you do achieve.
Lack of Success Doesn’t Necessarily Mean Failure
First off, the concept of failure isn’t necessary. Try to view goals as achieved or in the process of being achieved. And if you don’t achieve a goal, it doesn’t have to equate to failure. Society tells us it does, but you don’t have to buy into that thinking. Not achieving a goal can be a success if you take the attitude it moves you one step closer to achieving your goal. It can also be a success if you learn from not achieving your goal in a way that furthers your pursuit of the goal, helps you redefine your goal or select a new goal.
Focusing on Your Writing Career
Focus on furthering your writing career is good, but being overly focused – especially to point of becoming obsessed with success – can lead to depression and burn-out. In America, there’s an attitude that we have to be working all the time. Gotta keep grinding, grinding, grinding. And if you do anything other than work, you’re lazy and lack commitment. It’s not only good, it’s necessary to balance your writing with other aspects of your life for both your mental and physical health.
It’s okay for your focus to change over time. A friend of mine in college wanted to become a science fiction writer. He wrote sports articles for the college newspaper, and after graduation, he wrote for local papers, and eventually he began publishing sports articles for magazines. When he moved to Indiana, he specialized in basketball and racing articles. When he returned to Ohio, he switched his specialty to golf articles. He wrote some biographies of sports figures for young readers too. We’ve lost touch over the years, so I’m not sure what he’s doing now, but I always think of him when I think of how important it is to be versatile and adaptable when establishing and maintaining a writing career.
America culture tells you to pick a lane and stick to it the rest of your life, but John Jakes wrote science fiction novels before turning to the historical fiction that would make him a bestseller. Raymond Carver started out as a poet before gaining fame as a writer of minimalistic short stories. My college friend wasn’t a failure because he didn’t establish a career in science fiction. He was a success at writing sports nonfiction.
It’s okay to take breaks. My oldest daughter recently graduated with a master’s in oboe performance. She’s burnt out on playing oboe right now, and she began to think she might never play it again. But two of her teachers told her it’s quite common for musicians to take a break from playing after graduating from college, sometimes for years before they pick up their instrument again. My daughter had never heard this before, and I think that’s because people see taking time off as a failure to persist, to keep grinding away, and they’re ashamed to admit it. They shouldn’t be. The more people who talk about the importance of taking a break from their art if they need it, however long it may be, the more normal it will become.
Don’t set arbitrary time limits for success. I turned fifty-seven a couple weeks ago. I first started writing seriously with the intention of making a career out it when I was eighteen. When I started out, I told myself that if I didn’t have a novel published by the time I was thirty, I’d stop writing and seek a different career. My second agent called me on my thirtieth birthday to offer representation, so I figured that was close enough and kept writing. My first novel – a comedic erotic mystery called Dying for It – was published when I was thirty-five (I have a few copies of it lying around it any of you are curious enough to read it as it’s unlike anything else I’ve written). Thanks to movies, TV shows, and entertainment news, we get the idea that if you’re not a creative success right out of the gate, that you’re a failure, and that’s just bullshit.
Don’t wait for the magical day the stars align to start your writing career (or to make a change in it). Conditions will never be optimal. They never are, for anything. It’s not easy to write when you have to work a demanding job, have small children that need a lot of attention, have persistent health issues to manage, etc. Writing is a choice, though. Maybe you can’t make that choice every day. Maybe when you are able to make it, you can’t write for very long, or you have a hard time concentrating. Do your best, whatever your best is that day, and remember there’s no timetable for success. Just by writing, you’ve already succeeded at overcoming not-writing.
Never think you’re too anything – too young, too old, too new at writing, etc. – to begin. I once had student in her forties who wanted to enter a PhD program. “By the time I graduate, I’ll be in my fifties.” I told her she’d reach her fifties whether she had a doctorate or not, so if she really wanted one, she should go for it.
What Makes Someone a “Writer,” Let Alone a “Professional” One?
Some people say if you write, you’re a writer. Others say a professional writer is someone who approaches their writing professionally, regardless of whether or not they publish. Others tie the label of professional to someone who’s traditionally published, even if only a few times and if only in the small press. Others tie to the label to publishing with larger presses, while still others tie it to making a living solely from writing. People’s idea of a Writer with a capital W is often tied to one or more of these definitions. But I’ll tell you a secret: None of this shit matters. Writing isn’t something you are; it’s something you do. It may be a vital part of your life, but it’s still just a part. I love the first line on Ramsey Campbell’s website: “I’m Ramsey Campbell. I write horror.” He’s a person who writes, and the type of fiction he creates is horror. Don’t get hung up on the world’s many definitions of what a writer is or should be, and don’t get down on yourself if you don’t fit any particular definition. You’re a person who writes, so go do it. That’s all you need to know.
Looking Forward vs Being in the Present
Looking forward is a wonderful attribute in a writer. It helps you set goals and keep working toward them. But if you’re always looking forward, you might forget to appreciate present achievements fully. You might even forget to appreciate them at all. If you push too hard to get to the future, you might not take the time you need today to do your best work. You might rush the work to get to the next goal and the next one after that . . .
It’s always cool when a box of author copies arrives at my house, but they’re copies of a book I finished writing a year or more ago. I’m focused on the book I’m currently writing, sometimes to the point where I treat getting author copies like another item to check off a list. Copies of Your Turn to Suffer came today. Check. Time to put them on the shelf and then get back to work on the current novel. It’s important to appreciate present accomplishments, whether it’s writing a scene you’re happy with or getting an email from a reader who really enjoyed one of your stories. Those are wonderful moments, ones that feed your soul, and you shouldn’t let them pass you by.
However . . .
Being too satisfied with the present can keep you from continuing to work on furthering your goals. It’s important to not get too comfortable with where you’re at, to stay hungry and keep striving. – without becoming so consumed by looking forward that it’s all you do. You need to balance looking forward with being in the present. Breathing, drinking, and eating are all equally important to sustaining life. It’s the same for looking forward and being in the present. Both are equally important for a writer.
Goal-Setting
So much of how we define success as writers depends on whether we reach the goals we’ve set for ourselves. If we get better at how we set goals, as well as how we view those goals, the healthier our attitudes toward achieving them (or not) will be.
Make realistic goals. Starting your writing career by deciding your first novel will outsell Stephen King’s entire output is a sure way to set yourself up to fail. But if your goal is to start and finish your first novel, then you’re setting yourself up for success.
Make “shoot-for-the-stars” goals too. Go ahead, imagine your first novel getting a rave review in The New York Times and Publisher’s Weekly. Write the very best book you can, but once it’s out there for readers to see, don’t count on your shoot-for-the-stars goals to be fulfilled. Don’t invest so much of your mental and emotional energy in these goals that you’re devasted when they don’t happen. I imagine these type of goals like being a basketball player holding the ball as the last few seconds on the clock ticks down. They’re going to hurl the ball as hard as they can toward the opposing team’s net, knowing there’s a slim chance they’ll make a basket, but also knowing there’s zero chance if they don’t take the shot before the buzzer sounds. Accept that shoot-for-the-stars goals may take longer to achieve, and accept that some of them – such as winning a Pulitzer Prize – are less likely to occur than others. And for god’s sake, don’t let not achieving shoot-for-the-stars goals become reasons for believing you’re a failure.
Make short-term and long-term goals. Your long-term goal may be to find a great literary agent. One of your short-terms goals in this process is to research agents and come up with a list of ten to query. Once you’ve done that, you’ve succeeded in achieving a goal, regardless of how the long-term goal plays out in the end. Working toward goals is success in itself, and we should view it as such.
Enjoy the Victories
View achieving any goal, no matter how small, as a victory, and try to take time to appreciate these victories. And of course, celebrate the big victories too! Develop celebration rituals. Give yourself a treat at the end of each writing session. Allow yourself to finally start that series you’ve been meaning to watch on Netflix. Go for a walk. Go out for a drink with friends. When your first novel is published, throw a party. Celebrate alone or invite others to celebrate with you, both in real life and on social media. These rituals will help keep you centered on the present and help you enjoy your victories without immediately forgetting them in your race to achieve the next goal.
Keep mementos of victories around to remind you that success is possible. After all, these reminders are proof you’ve achieved success before and therefore can do so again. Display your author copies where you can see them. Frame an especially glowing review or an email from an appreciate reader and display it somewhere you can see it. On the bad writing days, they’ll serve as a reminder that there are people out there in the world who like your writing and are looking forward to more of it.
Keep a celebration journal. Log your victories in it, no matter how large or small they might be, and when you feel down about your career, page back through it. Savor your victories anew, allow them to become the fuel that will get you going again. (Plus, it’ll be a valuable resource for your future biographers once you become rich and famous.)
Dealing with Not-Success
Not getting what you want isn’t fun for anyone. It’s okay to feel your feelings, but . . .
Don’t overreact and vow to quit writing, destroy all your work, bash your computer to bits with a hammer, etc. Commiserate with friends who understand your pain. Create Not-Success Rituals to make you feel better, but avoid making them self-damaging. Revisit previous successes – mementos, journal entries, positive reviews you’ve saved – to remind you that not only is success possible, you’ve achieved it before and can achieve it again. Allow yourself a short mourning period, then get back to work.
Making a Living as a Writer
Very few writers of any type – fiction, nonfiction, poetry, playwriting, screenwriting – can make a living solely from their writing, especially if what you write isn’t deemed commercial by society at large (like the weird-ass surreal dark fantasy I often write). Those writers who do make a living solely from writing often live in near-poverty (if they don’t have a spouse with a good income). They often don’t have health insurance either. Living like this can be very stressful, and that stress results in difficulty creating. Because of this, people who write full time often don’t produce any more work, or any better work, than when they had a day job. And full-time writers often have various income streams that are writing-adjacent, such as teaching writing, freelance editing others’ work, freelance mentoring other writers, doing freelance business or technical writing, etc. Not long ago, I read an article with the director of an MFA program who said he advises his students to find a day job that allows them time to write. A job which keeps your body busy but allows you time to daydream. A job that doesn’t suck all the life out of you each shift so you’re too tired to write when you come home. A job where you have a certain amount of downtime, such as a night security guard. A job where you can earn an income that will allow you to live but still affords some time off, such as a teaching gig where you don’t have to work in the summer unless you want to. (Teachers are only employed for nine months. The other three months they’re unemployed unless they wish to teach part-time or work at some other job, such as their writing.) Finding a job that will allow you time to write is far easier said than done, but it’s a goal you can strive for. But never feel like a failure – or like you’re not a “real” writer – because of what you do to pay your bills.
Positive Views of Success That Are Under Our Control
Artistic Satisfaction. The making of something, of engaging our creative selves in the artistic process, can be satisfying and a worthy goal in itself. We may not always feel fully satisfied with each project we work on, but if we continue to create, we will experience such satisfaction. We need to take time to savor it.
Personal Satisfaction. When we write, we are doing the thing we enjoy the most, the thing which perhaps is the truest expression of ourselves. We show we have the courage to pursue our dream. All of this can be very satisfying on a personal level, and we need to savor it as well.
Community-Building Satisfaction. By sharing our writing with others, we contribute to enriching our culture. By connecting with readers and other writers, we build community, and we should appreciate this.
What else is writing for ultimately, if not these three things?
And that seems as good a point to end on as any.
Additional Resources: Eric Maisel is a psychologist and author who specializes in helping creative people. He’s written numerous books that can help creatives develop a healthy and positive view of success. You can find them listed on his website at www.ericmaisel.com. One of my favorites, which I recommend to writers all the time, is Creativity for Life.
DEPARTMENT OF SHAMELESS SELF PROMOTION
YOUR TURN TO SUFFER
My next book from Flame Tree Press, Your Turn to Suffer, is out this Tuesday, March 23rd! Here’s the synopsis:
Lorelei Palumbo is harassed by a sinister group calling themselves The Cabal. They accuse her of having committed unspeakable crimes in the past, and now she must pay. The Cabal begins taking her life apart one piece at a time – her job, her health, the people she loves – and she must try to figure out what The Cabal thinks she’s done if she’s to have any hope of answering their charges and salvaging her life.
Advanced reviews have been good so far, with the book garnering a cumulative Goodreads score of 4.13 out of 5 stars. Reviewers have commented that the book is something of a throwback to 1980’s horror and reminds them of early Clive Barker. They’ve also said it’s a dark, brutal book, with some going so far as to say it flirts with Splatterpunk. It also has elements of surreal, cosmic horror as well. Perhaps my favorite review quote so far comes from Donna Fox:
“For the last quarter of the story, I felt like I was caught underneath a freight train going one hundred miles an hour! My mouth was so dry I needed to get a drink, but I couldn’t put the book down. I had goosebumps, and I needed a sweater – but I couldn’t stop reading. The ending was that intense!”
Music to a horror author’s ears! If all this sounds like your cup of poisoned tea, I hope you’ll give Your Turn to Suffer a try.
Order Links for Your Turn to Suffer
Flame Tree Website
This is my page on the Flame Tree site, where you can order any of my Flame Tree novels, including Your Turn to Suffer.
https://www.flametreepress.com/authors/Tim-Waggoner.html
Amazon
Barnes and Noble
Hardcover: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/your-turn-to-suffer-tim-waggoner/1137330372?ean=9781787585188
Paperback: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/your-turn-to-suffer-tim-waggoner/1137330372?ean=9781787585164
NOOK Book: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/your-turn-to-suffer-tim-waggoner/1137330372?ean=9781787585201
WRITING IN THE DARK SYMPOSIUM: SPRING EDITION
The next Writing in the Dark Online Workshop will take place this coming weekend March 26th-28th. It's all about how to level up as an author. No matter what level you're at, there's always room to level up! Many guest lecturers have signed on to assist and it will cover a broad list of writing topics. The first symposium was a big hit, and I hope you’ll be able to join us for the sequel! I’ll be conducting a session on using three prime elements of horror fiction: Anticipation, Confrontation Point, and Aftermath, and I’ll likely be on several panels as well.
Follow this link to register:
NECRONOMI.COM: DISCUSSION OF IN THE MOUTH OF MADNESS
I recently had the honor of being a guest on the Necronomi.com podcast. We talked about one of my favorite films, John Carpenter’s In the Mouth of Madness. It was a great discussion, and you can listen to it here:
https://thenecronomicom.libsyn.com/the-social-commentary-of-in-the-mouth-of-madness-wtim-waggoner
WANT TO STALK ME?
Workshops
Writing Media Tie-Ins: May 4th. I’m presenting this workshop in conjunction with Clarion West. It’s online and there’s no fee. https://www.clarionwest.org/workshops/online-workshops/creating-media-tie-in-fiction-just-add-writer-with-tim-waggoner/
Conferences
Stokercon: May 20th to May 23rd. Thanks to Covid, Stokercon will again be virtual this year. I’ll be conducting a guest of honor interview with the amazing Steve Rasnic Tem, and I’ll also be presenting a workshop based on my article “All the Things I Wished I’d Known as a Beginner Horror Writer.” I’ll be participating in a panel on the importance of horror for Stokercon’s Librarian’s Day, and I should also be on some additional panels and likely doing a reading. I’ll let you know when I have a schedule to share. http://stokercon2021.com/
Readercon 31: July 9th to July 11th. Readercon is going to be virtual this year, and I’ve been invited to be a quest. I should be on a panel or two, and I might do a workshop as well. http://readercon.org/
Want to follow me on social media? Here’s where you can find me:
Twitter: @timwaggoner
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/tim.waggoner.9
Instagram: tim.waggoner.scribe
YouTube Channel: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCZEz6_ALPrV3tdC0V3peKNw
Sign up for My Newsletter: https://timwaggoner.com/contact.htm
February 20, 2021
So You're Never Going to be Stephen King
Years ago, literary agent Russell Galen wrote a regularly appearing column in Locus focused on publishing and writing careers. I was in my mid-twenties back then and subscribed to Locusfor all the science fiction/fantasy/horror publishing news I could get, and Galen’s column was the first thing I read whenever a new issue appeared in my mailbox. That was thirty years ago, and while I don’t remember a lot of what Galen wrote, one of the things that has stuck with me is this sentence: “Don’t be afraid to tell your agent you have a lust for success that would appall Napoleon.”
A couple years later, when I was in my late twenties, I was teaching writing classes part-time at three different colleges while I wrote novels and stories which weren’t getting published. In one of my composition classes, we were talking about success. I don’t remember why. Probably we’d read an essay in the textbook that had success as its theme. One of the students who always sat in the back of the room – a smart young man who contributed a great deal to classroom discussion – said, “Look at you. You’re a success.” My reaction? I burst out laughing. I had a master’s degree, not a doctorate, I didn’t have a full-time teaching job, and while I’d sold a handful of stories to small-press magazines, I wasn’t exactly appearing regularly on the New York TimesBest Sellers list.
Several months ago, I was speaking with an editor on Zoom, and we were talking about ways to move my career to a higher level. During our conversation, he referred to me as a “reasonably successful writer.” I’ll be fifty-seven in less than a month. How much more time do I have left to become just a plain “successful writer,” let alone one that’s “significantly” or “wildly” successful? Hell, when I’m sixty, I’ll be eligible for a Lifetime Achievement Award from the Horror Writers Association. (Not that I think I merit one.) Such an award doesn’t mean one’s career is over, but it would seem to be a strong statement that the better part of one’s career is complete, that a writer has made whatever mark in their field they’re going to, and the remainder is epilogue.
I’ve had many different ways to gauge the success of my writing career over the last forty years that I’ve been writing. I submitted my first story for publication when I was eighteen. There was no Internet back then, so I learned about the submission process from magazines like Writer’s Digest and The Writer. Home computers and printers were still a year or two away (and of course there was no email), so stories were produced on a typewriter. When you sent them out for submission, you included a SASE (self-addressed stamped envelope) so if the story was rejected, the manuscript could be returned to you so you could submit it elsewhere. (You’d send the same manuscript out until it started to show some wear, then you typed a new copy.) The story was called “As Good as a Rest,” and it involved a barbarian who was tired of his job, so he went to the office of Archetype Management to be reassigned to a more interesting milieu. (The story never sold, and years later I rewrote it with a woman protagonist and sold it to a DAW anthology called Warrior Fantastic.) I submitted “As Good as a Rest” to Asimov’s Science Fiction Magazine, and when it was rejected, instead of receiving the manuscript back in the mail, I got a postcard from the editor informing me that I failed to include a SASE, and if I wanted my manuscript returned, I should send them a SASE. I was too embarrassed to do so, but I was thrilled to get the postcard. The postcard was proof that I had completed the cycle. I’d written a story, identified a market, prepared a submission (if without a SASE), sent it, and received a reply from an editor. This first completion of the cycle felt like a huge success to me. I might not have been a professional writer, but I had followed the steps that a professional would take, and I felt like I was on my way.
I had a story published before this, though. I’d written a story for a creative writing class in high school, and the teacher chose to read it aloud to the class, but without naming me at the author in case it might embarrass me (which it would’ve). The fact the teacher chose to read my story to the class as an example of good work made me feel great. I was named Writer of the Month at my high school, and my story was published in a local paper, this time under my name. It was the first time I saw my words in print, and it was fantastic. I published my next story my junior year in college. I was in a creative writing class with the editor of the college’s literary magazine. He had some positive comments about my story, so after class I asked if the story was the kind of thing he might like to publish. He said sure and had me send it to him. (I didn’t realize at the time that I’d also accomplished my first successful networking!). The following year, I became the editor of the lit mag – another achievement that I was proud of.
I began sporadically selling to small-press literary magazines, and I continued reading as many how-write-books as I could get my hands on. Slowly but surely, my achievements continued. I started selling stories more regularly, I began going to writing conventions, I joined The Horror Writers Association and the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America. I had my first professional sale, to a horror anthology Young Blood. I landed the first of three agents that I’ve had (so far) in my career. I started selling regularly to pro anthologies, and I started selling stories to Cemetery Dance magazine. I began getting (a few) invitations to submit to projects. I started being on panels at conventions, which allowed me to meet many professional writers. I started teaching creative writing workshops and writing how-to-write articles. My first published novel was for a small-press start-up called Foggy Windows, which specialized in erotica for married couples. I wrote a comedic mystery called Dying for It, one of only five novels the publisher produced before it folded. But my advance check didn’t bounce, and it was the first time I was paid to write a novel. (It was also a decent mid-list size advance for the time.)
I kept writing and teaching, pushing myself to take my career to the next step, then the next after that, and the next after that. I started writing media tie-in novels as well as original fiction, and I focused more on fantasy than horror back then, but eventually my horror began to sell more than anything else so, since horror was my first love, I decided to focus on it primarily. I began regularly receiving anthology invites, so many that it became rare that I wrote and sold any short fiction on spec. I wanted to grow as an artist as much as possible, so I worked hard to make my horror unlike anything anyone else wrote (which, in retrospect, might not have been the smartest idea when it came to marketing my work to a wide audience.) I would set goals and try to reach them. I wanted to sell a novel to Leisure Books’ horror line. I sold three. I wanted to offer writing workshops at conventions, and I began doing so regularly. I wanted to write a Supernatural novel. I ended up writing five different books based on the series. I wanted to write an original series. I wrote three books in the Nekropolis series which readers still write me about to this day. I wanted to win awards, so I learned more about the process works for various writing awards, and I’ve been a multiple finalist for the Bram Stoker Award, the Shirley Jackson Award, and the Scribe Award. I’ve been a one-time finalist for a Splatterpunk Award. I’ve won the Stoker once, and this year I have two works on the final ballot. I wanted to be published in both The Writer and Writer’s Digest, and I have been. I wanted to write a book on writing, especially on how to write horror, and I wrote Writing in the Dark, which came out last fall from Raw Dog Screaming Press.
My reviews have almost all been positive throughout the years, and readers and other writers have told me how much they enjoy my work, whether through email, on social media, or in person.
There are lots of things I haven’t achieved yet. No one has adapted any of my fiction into film. My Nekropolis books have been dramatized and recorded with a full cast and audio effects by Graphic Audio, though. No one has adapted any of my fiction for comics. I had a story accepted for adaptation for the Evil Jester Presents comic, but it was canceled after one issue. I’ve never had a story reprinted in Year’s Best Horror, Best Horror of the Year, orBest Horror and Dark Fantasy of the Year. I have had four stories reprinted in various volumes of Best Hardcore Horror of the Year, though. I haven’t had a major bestseller, although my tie-in novel Alien: Prototype did make the Locus bestseller list. I’d love to have a long-running series, but that hasn’t happened yet. I’d love to make more money from my writing than I do, and I’d like to break out and become an A-list writer.
So why have I written what sounds like an extended brag about how awesome I am? So I could tell you this: I’ve pushed and pushed and pushed myself for almost four decades now, and sometimes I don’t feel like a success at all. I don’t think I’m a failure – there’s too much evidence that I’m not – but I feel as if true success is always just out of my reach. Sometimes it makes me feel like my career has been kind of a cruel cosmic joke, and that gets me down and makes it hard to keep working. Sometimes it feels as if I’m on the downhill slide of my career, and there’s nothing I can do to turn things around. Sometimes I toy with the idea of quitting writing. I’ve always thought about quitting. I’m prone to depression and, as an imaginative person, I’m prone to drama. I may not evince this in my everyday life, but it’s true. I’m as much a drama queen inside as any other creative person. And the reason I feel all these things is because I listen too much to what the world tells me a successful writer should be. I think of my writing accomplishments as achievements to slap in a bio or bibliography, quickly forgotten as I rush toward the next project or goal I want to achieve. I forget to enjoy the results of my efforts, to savor the experiences, to have fun, to feel joy. If I’m not first writing for myself, writing to spend my life in a way that feels fulfilling to me, if I don’t remember to appreciate these things, that’s when I most feel like a failure. My writing is supposed to sustain me, but if it was water, I’d get regular deliveries of it, throw the jugs in the basement, and never drink a drop of it. I’d be too focused on obtaining more water without taking the time to appreciate the water I’ve already got.
In his wonderful speech “Make Good Art,” Neil Gaiman shares a story about a time when he was doing a signing alongside Stephen King. It was during the height of Sandman’s success, and Neil had a ton of people show up to get their comics signed. Steve told him, “This is really great. You should enjoy it.” But Neil didn’t. He was too focused on the next project, the next hill to climb. He calls Steve’s words “the best advice I ever got but completely failed to follow.”
I feel most like a failure when I forget that eighteen-year-old boy I was, standing by the mailbox at the end of my parents’ gravel driveway, looking at the postcard from Asimov’s editor and grinning ear to ear. That boy savored his achievement. He framed that postcard (I know, I know – what a cliché) and hung it on the wall next to his typewriter/word processor. I feel most like a failure when all I do is focus on the work and forget to appreciate the rewards, whatever they may be.
So often on social media I see posts from writers who work hard and celebrate their successes. These are often (but not always) newer writers in the early stages of their careers. I also see posts from writers who work equally as hard but share their disappointments with what they perceive as their failures.
I’m being a writer version of Marley’s Ghost right now, and I’m warning you not to treat your writing successes, no matter how big or small they may be, as merely one more step along the way to something so much bigger and better. We can all imagine levels of success that would appall Napoleon, but no matter what was achieve, we’re in danger of always defining real success as that we don’t have and which will remain forever beyond our grasp. And when we do that, we’ll always feel like failures.
I’m not telling you to ignore setbacks in your writing career. I am telling you not to focus on them to the point where you can’t appreciate your successes, and I’m telling you to make a conscious effort to enjoy those successes. Celebrate. Have a special meal, a special dessert, a special drink . . . Buy something nice for yourself. Share your successes with your friends and family, both in real life and online. Display your author copies, writing awards, certificates of appreciation, a nice email from a reader somewhere in your home . . . and when you’re feeling like you suck and your so-called career has been a complete waste of time and effort, look at these things.
Most of all, remind yourself that success is not reaching a destination; it truly is about enjoying the journey.
If you’ve never heard Neil’s “Make Good Art Speech,” you can watch it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=plWexCID-kA&t=5s
DEPARTMENT OF SHAMELESS SELF-PROMOTION
Your Turn to Suffer
My newest novel for Flame Tree Press is coming out next month. Reviews have been good so far, although readers have found the book to be darker and bloodier than I’d expected. If that sounds good to you (you sick, twisted thing), here’s where you can order:
Flame Tree Website
This is my page on the Flame Tree site, where you can order any of my Flame Tree novels, including Your Turn to Suffer.
https://www.flametreepress.com/authors/Tim-Waggoner.html
Amazon
Barnes and Noble
Hardcover: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/your-turn-to-suffer-tim-waggoner/1137330372?ean=9781787585188
Paperback: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/your-turn-to-suffer-tim-waggoner/1137330372?ean=9781787585164
NOOK Book: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/your-turn-to-suffer-tim-waggoner/1137330372?ean=9781787585201
Writing in the Dark: The Sequel
Now that the announcement has been officially made, I can tell you that I’m doing a follow-up to Writing in the Dark. This book is going to focus entirely on exercises to help writers produce better horror. Right now, it’s called Writing in the Dark Exercise Workbook, and since I haven’t started actually writing it yet, there’s no preorder information. The good folks at Raw Dog Screaming Press are aiming to have it out late this year or early next. I’ll keep you posted.
Transcript of my interview with Joanna Penn
I had a wonderful time being interviewed with author Joanna Penn for her blog a while back, but I hadn’t realized there was a transcript of the interview available online until this morning. So if you’re one of those people who’d rather read an interview than listen to it (I am), here’s a link to the transcript: https://www.thecreativepenn.com/2020/10/26/writing-horror-tim-waggoner/
If you want to listen to the interview, you can do that too: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r4LlAqqhC-0&t=2s
Workshops
The Art of Suspense: March 7th. I’m presenting this online workshop in conjunction with Wright Memorial Library in Oakwood, Ohio. There’s no fee. https://www.wright.lib.oh.us/WriteMarch
Writing Media Tie-Ins: May 4th. I’m presenting this workshop in conjunction with Clarion West. It’s online and there’s no fee. https://www.clarionwest.org/workshops/online-workshops/creating-media-tie-in-fiction-just-add-writer-with-tim-waggoner/
Conferences
Stokercon: May 20thto May 23rd. Thanks to Covid, Stokercon is going virtual for the second year in a row. I should be on some panels, and I’ve proposed several workshops. I’ll let you know when I have a schedule to share. http://stokercon2021.com/
Readercon 31: July 9thto July 11th. Readercon is going to be virtual this year, and I’ve been invited to be a quest. I should be on a panel or two, and I’ve proposed a couple workshops as well. http://readercon.org/
Want to follow me on social media?
Here’s where you can find me:
Twitter: @timwaggoner
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/tim.waggoner.9
Instagram: tim.waggoner.scribe
Newsletter Sign-Up: https://timwaggoner.com/contact.htm
YouTube Channel: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCZEz6_ALPrV3tdC0V3peKNw
February 4, 2021
It's an Honor Just to be Nominated
It's a major award!
“Just tell me this, Montag: at a guess, how many literary awards would you say were made in this country on an average each year? 5? 10? 40? Not less than 1,200.” The Captain from Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451.
I’ve been active on social media for years, and it’ll come as no surprise to you that I’m primarily interested in discussions about writing and publishing (horror movies, superheroes, cool science news and facts, pet pics, and funny/adorable/weird animal videos are all in the mix, though). There are a number of topics that come up regularly – sometimes presenting fresh perspectives and new developments, sometimes merely rehashing the same old arguments – and as it’s the beginning of awards season in the genre-writing community, some people are making eligibility posts online, others bemoan the fact they’ve never been nominated for, let alone won, an award, while others are talking about why all awards (especially those they’ve never won) suck.
I wrote a previous blog entry about writing awards a few years back, after I won the Bram Stoker Award for my novella The Winter Box. You can read it here: http://writinginthedarktw.blogspot.com/2017/05/most-of-all-id-like-to-thank.html. But given what I’ve been reading lately on social media about awards, I thought this would be a good time to write an expanded update.
First off, many people equate awards with the idea of Best. Organizations who bestow writing awards tend to avoid using the B-word, an acknowledgement that literary excellence is in the eye of the beholder (or reader). However, that doesn’t stop writers from believing that award nominations and winners are an organization’s statement on which works – and writers – are Best and which Are Not Best. But That’s it. Literary awards deal with matters of art, abstractions about which no two people can ever fully agree (and who often wildly disagree), and because of this, award processes – while designed to reach some kind of consensus on which works should be honored – can never determine a true Best. They can, however, spotlight Some Really Good Work and bring more attention to them, which I’d argue is the true purpose (or at least the ideal outcome) of literary awards.
Tom Monteleone once told me that the prime benefit of literary awards is that they’re an acknowledgment from your peers that you’re doing good work, and I think that’s a good way of looking at them.
I’ve been a finalist for the Stoker four times (including when I won for The Winter Box), twice for the Shirley Jackson Award, once for the Splatterpunk Award, and five times for the Scribe Award. Each of these awards has a different process for determining nominees and winners. Since I’m most familiar with how these awards work, they’re the ones I’m going to talk about primarily.
The Bram Stoker Award: The Stokers are awarded for superior achievement in horror and dark fantasy writing. These awards have a several step process. Members of the Horror Writers Association recommend works, and those with the most recommendations appear on the Preliminary Ballot. Members vote on which works from the Preliminary Ballot they’d like to appear on the Final Ballot (and members can make up to five choices in each category of the Preliminary Ballot). There is also a jury which can add works to the Final Ballot that they feel should be recognized but which didn’t receive enough recommendations by members. The jury is made up of volunteers, and the roster changes each year. Active and lifetime members then vote on which Final Ballot works they would like to receive a Stoker. One vote per category this time. I’m honored to currently have two works appear on the Stoker Preliminary Ballot this year.
The Shirley Jackson Award: This award honors “outstanding achievement in the literature of psychological suspense, horror, and the dark fantastic,” according to the award website. This is a fully juried award. Editors and publishers must submit works to the jury. Individual writers cannot. The jury decides which works go on the ballot (there’s only one), and they select the winners. There’s one jury for all categories. The makeup of the jury changes annually.
The Splatterpunk Award: This award is presented “to honor superior achievement in the sub-genres of Splatterpunk and Extreme Horror fiction,” according to Brian Keene’s website. (Brian is one of the award’s founders.) Anyone can nominate works – readers, fans, and professionals. The works with the most nominations appear on the final ballot, from which a jury selects the winners. (I’m not sure how the jury is selected for the Splatterpunk Awards.)
The Scribe Award: This award is presented by the International Association of Tie-In Writers to, as their site says, “acknowledge and celebrate excellence in licensed tie-in works based on TV shows, movies, and games (video games, computer games, rpgs).” Members volunteer to serve on juries, and there’s a separate jury for each category. Jurors selected the nominees and the winners. The precise makeup of the juries changes each year, but members can serve on juries again, although they often change the categories they judge in.
Positive Aspects of the Award Processes Listed Above
· Awards chosen by members reflect the will of the organization as a whole.
· Juried awards are determined by qualified and respected professionals, and they’re resistant to popularity being a factor in which work wins. Literary excellence in the field is, ideally, the sole determiner.
· Changing jury members each year brings fresh perspectives to the awards process.
· Awards nominated by readers, writers, and professionals highlight work that the literary community as a whole thinks should be recognized.
Negative Aspects of the Award Processes Listed Above
· Awards chosen by members of an organization or readers, writers, and professionals can become a popularity contest. Friends can vote for friends. People vote for writers/works that have name recognition. People can vote for works written by writers they personally like (and not vote for writers they dislike). Members can secretly promise to vote for each other. Some members may not have read widely in a given year, so their recommendations and award selections are based on limited experience. Members will be tempted to campaign for award nominations and wins.
· Juried awards can be determined by a small group whose collective opinion might not match the field as a whole. Jurors changing every year can make the award inconsistent. On the other hand, if jurors repeat, the award can get stuck in a rut. Jurors can nominate and award their friends, and refuse to nominate and award their enemies/people they dislike.
· All award processes can be impacted by the changing trends in a field within a given year. If stories about vampires suddenly become popular, more people read them, more people may believe vampire stories are Important to the Genre, and more people may nominate and vote for them.
· All nominations and award selections can be affected by biases, whether consciously or unconsciously. These biases can be toward people of specific races, genders, sexualities, identities, ethnic backgrounds, societab backgrounds, political ideologies, etc., but they can also be toward literary styles and techniques. For example, if someone hates second-person stories with the white-hot passion of a thousand blazing suns, they’ll never nominate or vote for such a story .
A Another point about both the positive and negative aspects of award processes: There is no way to prove that any of them are true. And even if you could prove any of them to be true, there would be no way to tell what impact, if any, they had on the outcome of the awards process. So when people bitch on social media about a certain literary award being trash because INSERT REASON HERE, it’s an emotional reaction, not one based on specific evidence. Science fiction’s Hugo Awards can only be voted on by people who’ve attended Worldcon in the past or who are currently attending it – fans, writers, and professionals, with fans making up a huge majority. It’s a logical supposition that this award could be prone to being a popularity contest, but there’s no way to prove that it is. And there are very different ways to view awards. I always wondered why the Hugo was considered to be such a respected literary award when it’s primarily a fan award, but I once heard SF writer Mike Resnick say that he didn’t care what other industry professionals thought about his work. He cared what SF readers thought because those were the people he wrote for, and thus the Hugo was the most important award in the field to him. It was an award given by readers.
Reactions to Literary Awards
Here are some of the most common reactions to literary awards I see posted on social media.
· What about ME? Every year I see writers – especially newer ones – lament how none of their works were chosen to appear on award ballots. Often, the implication seems to be that they think they’re geniuses (even though they only started writing six months ago), so how come they haven’t been nominated for All The Awards?
· I wasn’t nominated this year so I guess I suck and should quit writing. “I knew I was a terrible writer, and my not being nominated for awards this year only proves it. Time to die.” Writers have a hard enough time with confidence and persistence. Don’t make it any worse on yourself. Not getting a nomination is not a statement on you or your work.
· I was nominated (or won) and am now officially Writing Royalty. Insert meme of Neil deGrasse Tyson saying, “Look out, we have a badass here.” Just because you were nominated or won a literary award doesn’t make you King Shit of the Writing World. You’re not any better of a writer than you were the day before you won, and you’re not suddenly an expert everyone should listen to as if you’re the goddamned Delphic Oracle. Feel encouraged, feel acknowledged, sure. Even feel as if you’ve leveled up in your career, if you like. But stay hungry and humble, and keep on being a good literary citizen.
· I am a Stoker-Recommended author. Writers can be desperate to find ways to promote themselves, but calling yourself a Stoker-Recommended author is meaningless. Only one person has to recommend your work for you to appear on the initial recommended list. Appearing on the Preliminary Ballot is, at least for marketing purposes, meaningless as well. Only being an official nominee (meaning that your work is on the Final Ballot) is a legitimate qualification for marketing purposes. (I refer to myself a Finalist when one of my works appears on a final ballot. I think the word more clearly communicates the situation, plus it sounds more impressive than Nominee.)
· Campaigning for awards is unseemly. Some people believe that true professionals do not promote their work for awards in any way, shape, or form. Doing so is a sign that you’re an amateur, and a desperate one at that. People who hold this view might have a bit a literary snobbishness to them, but in a perfect world, they’d be right. Good work would always get noticed. But there are simply too many books, novellas, short stories, articles, poems, essays, etc. published every year via traditional press, small press, and indie writers for anyone to possibly come close to reading everything. Because of this, good work goes unnoticed all the time.
· Indie writers never get nominated for awards. I wouldn’t say never, but I do believe that indie writers have a harder time getting attention for their work than traditionally published writers do. A strong social media presence can help, but it seems to me that readers still have a bias, perhaps unconscious, that indie work is lesser work by its very nature. Which is, of course, horseshit.
· X award is superior in all ways to Y award. In certain corners of the horror field, the Shirley Jackson Award seems to have more respect than the Stoker, as does the World Fantasy Award. Does that mean any of these awards are better than the others? It all depends on what you mean by better. When it comes to literary awards, perception is everything. If a person believes one award is superior to another, then for them it is. Another person might value a different award more. I don’t think readers give a damn which award an author has won (if they care about awards at all). Knowing that an author is an “award-winner” is enough for them.
· Awards are worthless. This another eye-of-the-beholder situation. If you think they are, they are.
· Awards are important. Ditto, with the addendum that awards can bring attention to work that might not otherwise receive it.
· Awards harm the field. “The field” being whatever genre or subgenre of literature the commentator works in: Horror, SF, Fantasy, Romance, Mystery, Thriller, Literary Fiction, Poetry, etc. The idea here is that a focus on awards takes away from the art itself, not least of all by pitting one work against another as if art is a competition, as if only one can be Best, when all works should be considered on their own merits. Focusing on awards might also lead writers to write material they think is award-worthy instead of following their natural artistic inclinations.
· Winning an award changes nothing for a writer. It depends on the writer, but winning an award guarantees nothing beyond the award itself. Your career might not change.
· Winning an award changes everything for a writer. On the other hand, agents, editors, and readers might take notice of your award, and it might open some doors for you, maybe even some pretty big ones. Emphasis on the word might.
What Awards Won’t (Necessarily) Do For You
· Make you happy. Achieving a career milestone, such as winning an award, can produce a wonderful emotional high, but it’s one that doesn’t last. Eventually you come down and life returns to normal, almost as if the wonderful thing that made you feel so good never happened at all. You’ll find a new balance in your writing career and continue moving forward, having ups and down along the way, like always. Happiness may be fleeting but feeling contented with your life overall and fulfilled in your work have much longer shelf lives.
· Make you an expert writer. I referenced this earlier, but to hit the point one more time: You’re the same writer you were after you won the award then before you won it, no better and no worse. You’re not an all-knowing expert, and the fact is, you never will be. No one person can ever learn all there is to learn about making a specific form of art. We’re all apprentices our entire lives. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t share what you know, but it does mean you shouldn’t take yourself so goddamned seriously.
· Boost your career. It might, it might not. If it does help your career, it might do so only in small ways, ways so small you may never be aware of them, or ways that accumulate and grow stronger over time. Maybe a long time.
· Get you bigger advances. If you win an award, by all means try to get more money for your work, but don’t expect editors to shower you with cash. Publishers pay advances based on how much money they think your book will make, and that has everything to do with the book itself, not your particular credentials (unless you already have a track record as a bestseller, of course).
· Sell more books. Whether you’re traditionally published or an indie author, a majority of readers aren’t going to flock to your books because you’ve won an award. They’re more interested in the type of material within the book. Maybe they’re interested in writing by you because they’ve liked previous stuff of yours that they’ve read. Sure, some readers might pick up your book because it says Bram Stoker Award-Winning Author beneath your name on the cover, but not a ton.
· Get you more readers. Maybe some new readers will be drawn to your work (even if they’ve never heard of you before) if you win an award, but probably not a lot. (Remember, most readers are interested in the story more than anything else.) Over the years, I’ve heard many authors, agents, editors, and publishers say there’s no clear evidence that winning an award boosts a writer’s sales or increases their audience.
What Awards Can (Hopefully) Do For You
· Give you encouragement. If, like most writers, you experience at least occasional moments of self-doubt – about the quality of your work, the subject matter you choose to write about, the storytelling and literary style you’ve developed – winning an award can encourage you that yes, you can do this thing, and the path you’ve been following is a good one that still holds promise. It can be a deep restorative breath, a sip of cool, life-giving water when we badly need it.
· Give you another data point to help you assess your career. There are lots of metrics you can use to gauge your career progress. Response to your work from readers, reviewers, critics, and fellow authors. Sales. Number of copies sold. What people say about your work on social media. Writers who cite your work as an influence on theirs. Winning an award is one more way – but just one.
· Provide a credential. Winning an award can give you a credential you can use if you want to teach a class or present a workshop. Being able to say you’re an award-winning author sounds impressive to people, especially to aspiring writers. Same if you plan on doing freelance editing for other writers. I’d long thought about putting out a how-to-write book, but one of the reasons I waited to write Writing in the Dark was because I hoped I’d win an award so that it might help market the book to readers who were unfamiliar with me or my work. Did it help? Damned if I know, but I figured it sure as hell couldn’t hurt.
· Give you another item to help promote yourself and your work. Once you win an award, you can list it prominently on your website, your business card, your email signature, your bio, in whatever other promotional materials you create. Winning an award may not be the be-all, end-all, but it can be one more weapon in your promotional arsenal.
· Increase your visibility in the field. Writers and readers in the field (those who pay attention to awards, anyway) who didn’t know your name before you win, may well know it afterward. And if they were familiar with you, your status may rise in their view. Increased visibility (even if it’s only a small increase) can lead to more opportunities, such as anthology invites, conference invites, etc. (And yes, it might have an impact on sales. As I said earlier, no one knows for sure, though.) Editors and agents might be aware of you in a way they weren’t before, too.
Self-Destructive Attitudes Toward Awards
· Envy is the writer’s disease. I’ve heard this said by a number of writers over the years, but I don’t know where the phrase originated. It sure as hell is true, though. It’s far too easy for us to resent those who get what we want so badly. We can become bitter, cynical, down on the genre and all who work within it. We can become insufferable pricks online once we’re filled with self-loathing, and we might even quit writing altogether. Envy is poison, and the more of it you swallow, the more harm it does to you – as well as to those you interact with, including friends and family. Do you best to avoid it or, if you do experience it (and I think we all do to one degree or another), do your best to deal with it in as positive a way as you can.
· Bitching and moaning about awards isn’t a good look online. Discussing awards on social media, their meaning and place in a genre, as well as unemotionally criticizing them when you see something you feel is worth criticizing are all important, and I’d never suggest anyone avoid talking about these topics if they wish to. But spewing a torrent of negativity about awards, whether in general or in specific, those who give them and those who receive them, can contribute to making you seem like a sour crank. Fellow sour cranks will love your posts and comment on them. Others may read your posts and decide they don’t need your negativity in their lives and move along. If they see posts from you in the future, they may think, Christ, not this guy again. Unless you don’t give a shit about your reputation in your writing community and how it may impact your career (and if you don’t care, that’s cool; it’s yoursafter all), you might want to consider what’s the best way to talk about awards before you post. Or say whatever you want and let the chips fall where they may.
· I have to write something “award-worthy.” I mentioned this earlier. Chasing awards can cause you to try to write in a way you might not normally. This could be a good thing if it results in work you’re proud of. But it could steer you in a wrong direction. You also might have trouble finishing stories if you think they’re not good enough, and eventually you might not even start stories because you think the ideas you have aren’t good enough. You end up paralyzed, not writing anything.
· I will never write anything “award-worthy” ever again. After I won my Stoker for The Winter Box, I knew I had to be careful not to worry about whether the next thing I wrote was award-worthy. I just needed to do my best, just like I always try to do. (How good my best is at any given time is up for debate.) Winning an award can paralyze you as a writer just as much as trying too hard to win one or becoming depressed because you haven’t won one or ever been nominated. Things that help you produce writing = Good. Things that prevent you from writing = Bad.
· Imposter syndrome. “I didn’t deserve that nomination/award. Everyone else on the ballot deserved to be there, but not me. He/She/They should’ve won, not me. I’m a fake, a fraud, a phony . . .” Victor LaValle’s amazing The Ballad of Black Tom was up against me the year I won my Stoker, and you can believe I felt more than a little imposter syndrome then! Imposter syndrome is our old foe self-doubt wearing a different mask. If you get nominated for or win an award and feel you’re not worthy, just remember what I wrote at the beginning of this entry: A writing award just means that a particular group of people chose to honor/recognize a particular work or number of works at a particular point in time for particular reasons. It’s their award to bestow, and it’s your job to gracefully accept. And if you still don’t feel worthy, do your best to fake it, and maybe one day you’ll come to believe it.
· A focus on outside validation. Most artists crave validation, but not all. My wife is a visual artist who also writes for her own pleasure. She sells her artwork but never shares her fiction with anyone, including me. Outside validation like awards means little to her. Although she’s thrilled when I win one, and she insists on displaying them in the main room of our house, which I find more than a little uncomfortable. I think the majority of artists want to complete the communication/artistic cycle. They create a work, they share the work, and (hopefully) they get a response to the work. Maybe that response is praise, maybe it’s harsh criticism, maybe it’s money, but anything is better than indifference. But if we focus on obtaining outside validation to the point where we need it, even become addicted to it, in order to function as artists, that can quickly become self-defeating if not self-destructive. And to a lot of us, awards are the ultimate in outside validation, and an over-emphasis on them can be just as poisonous as envy in its own way.
Should You Campaign For Awards?
This is the big issue with awards that are voted on by readers or members of a particular writers’ organization. As I said earlier, some people believe that self-promotion when it comes to awards is distasteful at best and downright revolting at worst. I also mentioned earlier that so much work is published in a given year that it’s impossible to keep up with it all, even in a specialized genre. I’ve been a member of HWA and SFWA for around thirty years, and a member of the International Thriller Writers and the International Association of Media Tie-In Writers since their inception (maybe a decade or so ago?). When I first joined HWA and SFWA, it was possible to read a majority of the material published in those fields in each year. But with the rise of the small press (thanks to the development of print-on-demand technology, ebooks, and Kindle Direct Publishing), there’s no way in hell to read even a significant portion of it, let alone all of it. I don’t see anything wrong with letting people know your work exists and is available to be nominated for an award, as long as you use common sense and follow whatever etiquette a specific organization has in place for such promotion.
HWA has very specific guidelines for how much and in what ways you can promote your work for a Stoker. You can email an offer to send work to members who have specifically mentioned on their HWA website profile that they are open to receiving such messages from other members. You can do this one time. You can post an announcement on the HWA Facebook group page one time. If your work appears on the Preliminary Ballot, you can make another post on the HWA Facebook group page, but just once. You can provide links to your work for inclusion in a special email that goes out to members during the Preliminary Ballot voting period. If you make it onto the Final Ballot, you can once again provide links for the Final Ballot email that goes out to members during the Final Ballot voting period. I think you can also post one final time on the HWA Facebook group page, but I’m not sure.
While there’s no official stance on how many times you can post about the availability of your work on your own social media accounts, it’s highly frowned upon to do so too often. I do it very sparingly on my accounts, as well as in my newsletter or here in this blog. Posting too often about award availability makes you come across as overly needy and can be annoying, making people want to avoid you and your work and definitely notmaking them inclined to nominate or vote for it.
So be smart when promoting your work for awards, go by whatever guidelines may exist, and ask friends and mentors in the community when you have doubts about when, how, and how much to promote.
Last Thoughts
Honestly, this entry has gotten so long, and I don’t know if I have any last thoughts. Literary awards have been and always will be problematic in all kinds of ways, but that’s because humans give awards and we’re highly problematic ourselves. But whether you win an award or don’t during the course of your career, the point is to keep putting good work out for readers to enjoy, work that hopefully contributes to the health and growth of your genre, and which – even if only in a small way – makes the world a better place. If nothing else, you can apply a perspective exercise that I call the Deathbed Test. Who will be holding your hand when you’re lying on your death bed and your life is fading? Who will care about you at the end? Whoever it is, I guarantee you it won’t be any goddamned award.
I guess I had a few final thoughts after all. Go me.
DEPARTMENT OF SHAMELESS SELF-PROMOTION
The Winter Box
Since I referenced The Winter Boxseveral times in this entry, here’s a link if you’d like to check it out. It’s currently available only as an ebook.
The Forever House Eligible for a Splatterpunk Award
Last year I was honored that my novel They Kill was a finalist for a Splatterpunk Award in the novel category. The Splatterpunk Awards honors works of extreme horror fiction, and its nomination process is different than that for the Stokers. Anyone can nominate works for the Splatterpunk Awards. You can find out more about the awards, including how to nominate works, on Brian Keene’s website here: https://www.briankeene.com/home/ifv14xgq2ga1or80c0123p831l2x7g
My 2020 book The Forever House is eligible in the novel category, and if you feel it’s splat-worthy, I’d appreciate a nomination. The deadline for nominations is Feb. 14th , 2021.
Your Turn to Suffer Coming Soon
That heading sounds ominous, doesn’t it? My novel Your Turn to Suffer will come out on March 23rd (but it’s of course available for preorder). Early reviews on Goodreads have been positive, with a review average of 4.5 stars out of 5. My favorite review so far is from reader named Alexandra who compares the book to a blend of the movies The Void and Baskin. Now you have to check it out, right?
Preorder Links for Your Turn to Suffer
Flame Tree Website
This is my page on the Flame Tree site, where you can order any of my Flame Tree novels, including Your Turn to Suffer.
https://www.flametreepress.com/authors/Tim-Waggoner.html
Amazon
Barnes and Noble
Hardcover: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/your-turn-to-suffer-tim-waggoner/1137330372?ean=9781787585188
Paperback: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/your-turn-to-suffer-tim-waggoner/1137330372?ean=9781787585164
NOOK Book: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/your-turn-to-suffer-tim-waggoner/1137330372?ean=9781787585201
Turning the Tide
The International Association of Tie-In Writers will release an original anthology called Turning the Tied. The book will come out on March 13th and profits will go to benefit the World Literacy Foundation. The book features stories based on public domain characters such as Sherlock Holmes, Sinbad, and Frankenstein. My story is a modern-day version of Herne the Hunter. Right now, only the Kindle edition is available for preorder on Amazon, but a paperback edition should be available to order on March 13th or soon after. It’ll also be available to order at Barnes and Noble’s website soon.
Appearance on the DIY MFA Podcast
I had a great time talking with Gabriela Pereira on her DIY MFA podcast. Our conversation delved into the intricacies of writing horror, and whether you’re a horror writer or fan, I think it’s well worth a listen: https://diymfa.com/podcast/episode-343-tim-waggoner
Workshops
The Art of Suspense: March 7th. I’m presenting this online workshop in conjunction with Wright Memorial Library in Oakwood, Ohio. There’s no fee. https://www.wright.lib.oh.us/WriteMarch
Writing Media Tie-Ins: May 4th. I’m presenting this workshop in conjunction with Clarion West. It’s online and there’s no fee. https://www.clarionwest.org/workshops/online-workshops/creating-media-tie-in-fiction-just-add-writer-with-tim-waggoner/
Conferences
Stokercon: May 20thto May 23rd. Right now, the con is still supposed to take place physically in Denver, Colorado, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it becomes a virtual con. We’ll see. I should be on some panels, and I’ve proposed several workshops. I’ll let you know when I have a schedule to share. http://stokercon2021.com/
Readercon 31: July 9thto July 11th. Readercon is going to be virtual this year, and I’ve been invited to be a quest. I should be on a panel or two, and I’ve proposed a couple workshops as well. http://readercon.org/
Want to follow me on social media?
Here’s where you can find me:
Twitter: @timwaggoner
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/tim.waggoner.9
Instagram: tim.waggoner.scribe
Newsletter Sign-Up: https://timwaggoner.com/contact.htm
YouTube Channel: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCZEz6_ALPrV3tdC0V3peKNw
December 31, 2020
2020 Year End Round-Up
2021 is upon us. I’ve never written a year-end wrap-up before, but all the cool kids are doing it, so I thought I’d give it a try.
The college where I teach closed down and shifted to remote learning in March. I’ve taught from home ever since (which means I’ve gotten very familiar with Zoom!). My wife and I MAY have had COVID in March. We weren’t officially tested, but our family doctor thinks it’s likely that we had it. I’m almost never sick, and when I am, it’s for a very brief time, but I was pretty damn sick for two weeks, as was my wife. All the conferences and appearances I had lined up were canceled or shifted to remote delivery. My five-year-old dachshund Bentley needed two back surgeries. He’s fine now and getting into all sorts of mischief, as usual. My fifteen-year-old dachshund Lucy has various health problems, and her vet said she had only a few weeks to live. That was back in Spring, and Lucy is still running around the house like a puppy (when she’s not taking old lady dog naps). My wife and I intend to enjoy however much time we have left with her. My older daughter finished graduate school with a degree in music performance (oboe) and now she’s working on a certificate in arts management. My younger daughter is taking art classes, working at a local library, and trying to figure out what to do with her life. My wife is a falconer and raptor rehabber, so we’ve had two red-tailed hawks and a horned owl living with us at different times during the year – sometimes inside the house, which is weird but cool. My short story “A Touch of Madness” was a Bram Stoker Award finalist, but it didn’t win. My agent continued circulating various novel proposals, and while some came close, no editors bit in the end. I wrote a number of novel pitches for a new media-tie publisher, but for one reason or another, they all fell through. I’ve put together a new pitch for them, and hopefully this one will work out.
COVID caused the publishing industry to slow way down this year. Books were postponed and editors slowed down (or stopped entirely) acquiring new books. Hopefully, things will start getting back to normal – or at least a new normal – sooner rather than later.
My how-to-write-horror book Writing in the Dark came out in September, and it’s been well received. It’s more than a little nerve-racking to write a how-to book since it leaves you open to judgment. Why does this guy think he knows so damn much about writing horror? But I’m so glad people have found the book useful.
People continue to write me asking when there will be a fourth Nekropolis book. The original publisher of the series, Angry Robot, long ago chose not to continue it, and it’s difficult to get a new publisher interested in bringing out books that have already been published. I keep thinking that maybe someday I’ll write and self-publish more Nekropolis books, but I’ve so busy with other projects that I haven’t gotten around to it. Maybe some day.
Psychologically, the year was tough for me writing-wise, despite how much I produced. COVID and America’s political situation wore on me, of course, which didn’t help, especially since I’m prone to depression. I turned 56 this year, and I watched as a number of writers in horror – some my age, some younger – broke through to a new level in their careers, and I started to feel like I’ve already peaked and the only place to go from here is down. I know I have a good career and should have nothing to complain about. I’m hoping my outlook improves next year.
Here’s what I wrote and published in 2020:
Books Written in 2020
· A Hunter Called Night for Flame Tree Press. Horror.
· We Rise Again for Flame Tree Press. Horror.
· Film Novelization for Titan Books. Under NDA. Movie got delayed due to COVID, so the book did too. Horror.
Books Released in 2020
· Writing in the Dark, my how-to-write-horror book from Guide Dog Books.
· Some Kind of Monster, novella from Apex Publishing. Horror.
· The Forever House from Flame Tree Press. Horror.
Proposal
I wrote a hundred pages of a novel called The Atrocity Machine, the first in a potential series based on some concepts in my dark fantasy/horror novels, along with a synopsis. My agent will start submitting in in January.
Stories Written/Sold in 2020
· “Feeding Time.” 99 Tiny Terrors. Horror.
· Unannounced novella for Dark Regions Press. Dark fantasy.
· Unannounced dark fantasy story.
· “The Girl Who Bled in the Tree.” Tales of the Lost 3. Plaid Dragon Publishing. Horror.
· “The Sharp Edge of Midnight.” Campfire Macabre. Cemetery Gates Media. Horror.
· “Negative Space.” Nightmare Magazine. Horror.
· “Slashback.” It Crept From the 80’s. 2020. Horror.
· “Feathers.” Weird Tales 2, 2020. Horror/Dark Fantasy.
· “Blood and Desire” as by Brianna London. My first foray into self-publishing. Horror/Erotica.
Stories Released in 2020
· “Raiders of the Poisoned Plains” for Wendigo Tales anthology. Pinnacle.
· “The Crying Man.” Tales from Arkham Asylum.
· “In the End.” One of Us: A Tribute to Frank Michaels Errington. Bloodshot Books, 2020.
· “Forever.” Tales of the Lost 2. 2020.
· “Ashes of Our Fathers.” Borderlands 7. BP Press, 2020.
· “The White Road.” The Horror Zine’s Book of Ghost Stories. 2020.
· “A Touch of Madness.” Reprinted in Year’s Best Hardcore Horror 5, Red Room Press, 2020.
· “Skin Man.” Anathemas, Black Library, 2020.
Nonfiction Written in 2020 (also released in 2020)
· “Don’t Forget the H.” SFWA Blog.
· “The H Word: The Rational vs the Irrational.” Nightmare Magazine.
· “Paul Kane: Horror Master.” Introduction to Tempting Fate by Paul Kane
· “Speaking of Horror.” The Writer.
Short Articles Written to Promote Writing in the Dark
· “Five Ways to Build a Better Monster” at Horror DNA.”
· “Five Horror Clichés to Avoid in Your Fiction” at This is Horror
· “Hurts So Good” at Gingernuts of Horror
· “Weird Ideas” at The Horror Tree
· “Voices of Horror” at Ink Heist
Short Story Collection
· I’ve out together a collection of my fantasy stories titled The September People, which I plan to self-publish in 2021.
Other/Promotional
I wrote 12 blog entries (13 if you count this one) and put out 15 newsletters. I started a YouTube Channel and made 8 videos.
Editing
I took on my first freelance editing gig to help pay for Bentley’s surgeries. I edited a suspense novel for a client. I enjoyed it more than I thought I would, but I’m in no hurry to take on any more editing projects.
Teaching
I taught composition and creative writing classes at my college Spring, Summer, and Fall semesters. I presented several online workshops, and I mentored a couple writers via the Horror Writers Association’s Mentor Program.
Interviews and Podcasts
I did a ton of these to promote Writing in the Dark, and I hope people aren’t sick of listening to me talk about myself and my work!
On that note, I guess I should wrap this up. Happy New Year, and let’s hope it’s a better one for our weary world.
Links
· Writing in the Dark Newsletter sign-up: https://timwaggoner.com/contact.htm
· Twitter: @timwaggoner
· Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/tim.waggoner.9
· Instagram: tim.waggoner.scribe
· YouTube Channel: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCZEz...
