Renee Miller's Blog, page 5

Splish, Slash, Takin’ a Bloodbath

I don’t often talk about where my stories come from. Maybe it’s because I don’t really know most of the time. They just “are.” However, that’s not true of some of the projects scheduled for publication in the near future. Today, I want to share the inspiration behind the stories I have in SPLISH, SLASH, TAKIN’ A BLOODBATH, which was just released by Unnerving Magazine TODAY.

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Mark Allan Gunnells, co-author (along with Eddie Generous) of Splish, Slash, has been sharing the inspiration behind his stories in this collection this week, which inspired me to share mine.

Let’s begin with Free Day. It wasn’t supposed to be what it is. It was the beginning of a longer project I’d toyed with for weeks. When Eddie asked me for more stories, since the ones I’d sent didn’t all fit with his vision for this collection, I watched hours and hours of old slasher films.

And I panicked.

Then I watched more films.

And I said, well fuck, I’m not an idiot. I can write this. Excessive, over-the-top, bloody nightmares are my favorite thing.

As I was closing the files I had open (I tend to leave no less than three open at a time), so I’d focus on this one task, I saw the first paragraph of Free Day, which wasn’t called Free Day at the time. I can’t remember what I had as a temporary title, but it doesn’t matter.

Originally, it was going to be a story about an unseen entity, but then I remembered that Kurt (always great with random thoughts) said I should write a story about a murderous pizza delivery guy.

And said, “Oh yeah, because that’s original.” (sarcasm was heavy)

But it wouldn’t leave me, and so I took that first paragraph and ran with it. And Free Day was the result.

Devil’s Trail

This story literally just “happened.” I sat down to write a final story for this collection, decided I wanted to use rednecks, because I love rednecks, and a couple of hours later, Devil’s Trail was done. Well, a rough draft. Took a few rewrites to get it perfect.

Sorry, no inspirational anything on this one.

Hypothetical

This one started out as two stories. I was writing a bunch of flash fiction to get the creative juices flowing. When I do this, I use prompts. The prompt of that day was “pushed to the limit.”

Later, when I couldn’t find a home for them, I wondered if they couldn’t be blended into a bigger story. So I did that and here we are.

Snickers

Snickers… ah, this one was fun to write. Where did it come from? Well, Jesse Dedman of Deadman’s Tome had put a call out for erotic horror to be included in NO SAFE WORD. A friend nudged me in his direction via Twitter, and I said I’d see what I could come up with. First, I wrote No Good Deed, which is the one you’ll find in NO SAFE WORD. Then, because I wasn’t sure it was “erotic horror” enough, I wrote SNICKERS.

I kind of love Sasquatch stories. I published one called Bigfoot is Coming under a pseudonym. (You probably won’t find it now) and thought, why not go “more” brutal than that this time?

And it sat on my hard drive for a while, because it’s a specific kind of story that isn’t easy to find a home for.

Mama

Mama was written in 2010. I wrote it because I wanted to push myself past the boundaries of what I felt was “acceptable” in terms of content. It was my first exploration of erotic horror, and I’d abandon said exploration for about five years afterward. Why? I felt like I had no business writing this stuff.

I was wrong, obviously. Originally, it was a longer piece with a lot of really uncomfortable shit in it. I even included it in a collection, but removed it shortly after its release, because I just felt like it was “too much.” Last year I edited it again, smoothed the rough edges and removed all the stuff left behind from my “overwriting” phase, and voila! A sickening tale for all.

Queen of the Trailer Hop

This story was written by myself, Eddie and Mark. I’m not usually a fan of co-authoring, because I am a control freak. However, this story just flowed and it was fun to see what they came up with each time it was passed back to me. Mark and Eddie are fantastic writers and working with them required no effort.

And that’s it. Exciting, huh?

Don’t forget to pick up your copy of Splish, Slash today. You won’t be disappointed.

Also, in honor of release day, my erotic horror stories HUNGER and STOP CRYING are free until the 10th, and you can get my first ever thriller, IN THE BONES, for just 99 cents until the 13th.

Happy reading!

On Being a Quitter

Confession: I think about quitting almost every day. Pretty sure I’ve admitted this before, but it bears repeating. Seriously. Most of the time I feel like I’m spinning my wheels with this publishing gig. One step forward means ten steps back. It’s depressing. Overwhelming.

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I’m constantly frustrated by this industry, frequently angered by people in it and my ego takes some pretty brutal hits on a regular basis. I waiver with every rejection. I wonder every second I write if I’m even any good. Most days, I don’t believe that I am. I mean, in theory, I must be okay, since people are publishing and reading my stuff, but there’s a part of me that thinks maybe those people don’t know anything and I really do suck.

It would take just one thing (not sure what that is yet, but it’s out there) for me to admit I’ll never make it, whatever making it means.

But I love writing. That’s what keeps me in it. And for those of you who would stop doing something you love simply because it’s too hard:

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When I see writers posting about how they’re “ready” to quit or it’s not fair, blah, blah, the asshole me says “Fine. Quit. More readers for me.” The better part of me urges most of them to keep going. There are only a few truly talented authors out there. You could be one of them. Maybe you’re not. I don’t now. But if you are, and you quit, then readers are left with the not so good writers, and then what? Bad things. That’s what.

But how do you keep going when every time you turn around there’s another obstacle to success? You stop being so damn sensitive, for one. Publishing is a business and you need to treat it as such. If you’re writing just for the sheer joy of it, then disregard this and get out of publishing. Enjoy the process and be happy. If you want to write as a career, then get rid of your unrealistic expectations of yourself and the market. Sticking your head in the clouds and buying into the struggling artist bullshit is what’s causing you to become discouraged. Basically, when you let your emotions run shit,  your feelings will be hurt. When your feelings get hurt, you stop being rational and you post attention-seeking things about the unfairness of it all and hope someone will beg you not to quit. Well, kids, you can only do that so many times. Eventually, no one’s going to stop you, because we’re sick of your whiny ass. And then what?

Yes, there are far too many crappy books by crappy authors, but that’s not the market you should worry about. The market where demand for quality books by skilled authors is high is the market you want to tap into. In other words, work on your craft, kittens. It’s the only way you’ll succeed. Not selling? Figure out why. Are you writing to the best of your ability? Are you trying to learn more about writing and publishing every single day? If not, then you’ll never move forward. No one is the best. There’s always someone better. Trying to be as good as each someone better I meet is what keeps me plugging away. Yes, it’s frustrating when I see someone who sucks at writing succeed where I couldn’t, but they’re clearly better at something, or they wouldn’t be doing so well. Figure out that something and YOU be better at it.

This is all difficult (not going to lie and say it’s easy), but it’s not impossible. Publishing should be hard. In my opinion, it’s become far too easy for the barely literate to publish. That’s discouraging, but remember, the Universe self-corrects. When it became easy for all the crap to be published, the Universe found a way to make it hard again. It said, “All right then, motherfuckers, it shall be virtually impossible to get said shit to readers.”

We no longer have to impress the gatekeepers (agents, publishers, etc.). No, the Universe has put a new gatekeeper in charge; the reader. And she doesn’t give a rat’s ass about your feelings or what others think about her reading choices. She cares about getting the most bang for her buck. She wants a book she can get lost in. The kicker is that every reader likes different stuff, so good luck figuring out how to lose them all in your work.

If you think writing and/or publishing should be easy, you clearly live in a land of candy farts and shouldn’t be allowed to roam unsupervised.

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Making a living is unlikely in the publishing industry, unless you choose to view every single sale as a step forward. It’s discouraging unless you choose to view every tiny bit of anything you learn as a sign of growth. Only a small percentage of us make this journey in one giant leap. The rest have to take slow, steady, baby steps up a steep hill, while being pelted with giant, fiery balls of shit, without any shoes and a broken umbrella.

But chin up, kittens. You haven’t failed until you stop trying.

So, are you a quitter?

Publishing Update: Finally Got My Shit Organized

Happy Valentine’s Day, kittens! If you don’t celebrate, well, Happy Wednesday! I don’t celebrate either, although I did buy my “kids” a chocolate cake as a gift from their loving mama. Of course, they shared.

This isn’t about Valentine’s Day, though. I just wanted to let you all know about the new horror I’ve got coming out very soon.

In case you missed it, last month I released SMOLDER, a thrilling little tale about small towns that just won’t die.

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Heath’s Hollow hasn’t thrived since the mine closed more than fifty years ago. The residents stayed behind, carved out an existence, becoming forgotten ghosts in a town that never should’ve been.

Desperate to stop the madness that plagues Heath’s, Mike Ellery hires a stranger to test the soil and water, but with the arrival of new blood, he realizes the poison isn’t in the mine.

It’s under it.

 

 

 

On March 6th, Unnerving Magazine is releasing a collection called SPLISH, SLASH, TAKIN A BLOODBATH.

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Eighteen gruesome, blood-dripping, gape-wounded tales of slashers, predators, final girls, perverts, cannibals, and otherworldly nasties from authors Mark Allan Gunnells (Companions in Ruin and Flowers in a Dumpster), myself, and Eddie Generous (editor of Hardened Hearts). (Including a couple of stories I’m particularly fond of, like HOWL and MAMA, and a story written by all three of us.)

From the classroom to the campfire to the cemetery, Splish, Slash, Takin’ a Bloodbath offers an outside view of what should be inside a body, be prepared to scream!

 

 

And I don’t know if you all remember CATS LIKE CREAM, the horror novelette that was orphaned when DarkFuse shut its doors. Well, it’s found a home. Unnerving will be releasing it on April 10th.

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It’s okay to watch. Watching hurts no one, as long as you don’t touch.

Elwin likes to watch. His position as star employee at a real estate agency gives him plenty of access to the homes of his clients. A camera or two hidden where no one will find it, and he can watch as often as he pleases.

No one knows. No one gets hurt.

But it’s hard to look without touching. Touching leads to bad things. Elwin knows this, but allows himself a moment of weakness.

And then another.

Soon, watching isn’t an option anymore. Not if Elwin wants his secrets to remain buried.

In July, Hindered Souls Press will be releasing EAT THE RICH. I have no cover or link for this one yet, but the “rough” concepts A. A. Medina has shown me so far are AWESOME. I’ll keep you updated.

And on October 16th, Unnerving Magazine is releasing STRANDED, a dark tale involving reality shows, greed, and a bit of supernatural horror.

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Now, don’t go just yet. I haven’t gotten to the best part. Unnerving Magazine has a massive pre-order sale going on for their 2018 lineup. Get the details HERE. Trust me, you want to get in on this.

Finally, also on October 16th, STRANDED, CHURCH (released in October 2017) and CATS LIKE CREAM will be released as a paperback collection called LICKING THE DEVIL’S HORN. This cover is just…

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Right? I know!

I also have a handful of short stories accepted for publication this year, but as of yet, I don’t have firm dates for those. I’ll let you know as soon as I do.

I think this is the first time my publication schedule has been decided more than a couple of months in advance. I promise not to throw a wrench into it… not intentionally anyway.

 

Women in Horror Month: Why?

For a long time, I viewed Women in Horror Month as pointless. I mean, if we can’t have the same opportunities and exposure as men ALL the time, then what good was a fucking month, right? Insulting is what it is.

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But then I bounced around the horror genre (and the industry in general) for a while, and I finally got it. Currently, I can say that women are embraced by the indie horror genre. I don’t often feel “left out” of anything, simply because I have a vagina, but there’s still… something. Now and then, I hear of someone (male or female) claiming they read a horror story written by a woman, didn’t enjoy it, so they no longer read female horror authors. Odd, eh? I don’t ever recall hearing about anyone who didn’t like horror written by a man and swearing off all male authors as a result.

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Let’s me share a little story with you. A couple of years ago, I sold a horror story to a respected publisher. I was thrilled, of course, but then, over the course of a few email conversations, it was revealed that the publisher was looking for female writers specifically when he read my story, because their roster was seriously lacking in horror written by women.

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But wait. This is what we want, right? Sure it is. We want to be taken seriously. We want readers and publishers to WANT to read stories by women. We want them to seek out female authors. To be aware of the possibility they may be sexist in their reading choices.

Right?

So, why did it deflate the little joy balloon I’d been carrying around? Why did it taint the pride I felt after working my ass off to write something good enough for a publisher to buy it? Why can’t I let go of that one sentence that I know wasn’t intended to belittle me or make me feel “less than” in any way?

A few reasons:

1. Why mention it at all? To pat himself on the back for doing a good thing? To let me know that I helped them meet a quota of some kind? It’s likely the mention was just a way of saying, “Hey, we support all writers, not just the ones with balls,” and it wasn’t meant to be patronizing or insulting. Why can’t we ladies just be happy and not pick shit like this apart? I was happy, and I am happy for the opportunities I’ve had in recent years as a result of selling that one story, but I don’t want to be told that the reason it sold may have been my gender and not the writing.

I mean, honestly, have any of you guys ever had a publisher tell you they were looking specifically for male authors when they read your work? That they realized they had almost no men in their roster?

I’m betting most (if not all of you) will say no.

2. Gender should not play a role in the slush pile. I love anonymous submissions, because not only does new talent get a fair shot, but women and men have an equal chance of selling their work. The selection is based on the story, as it should be.

That one conversation had me wondering how many submissions by male writers were ignored during that submission call? Maybe none. Maybe all. I don’t know. Problem is, it makes me angry that those men, who work just as hard as I do, were treated as women have been treated for years in many industries.

“Good,” you might say. “It’s about time.” Well, ladies, if we support that kind of behavior, even if it’s going the opposite direction, we’re hypocrites.

If there was a male author whose writing/story was better than mine, he should’ve been signed. I can’t help being bothered by the possibility that someone might have been overlooked because of their gender.

3. Women should NOT get special treatment. We should be treated equally. You shouldn’t have to seek out stories by women specifically to even out your roster. Stop looking at the gender, period, and worry about making sure your roster is full of the best authors you can find, balls or no balls.

The point of Women in Horror Month is to support and promote underrepresented work of women in the horror industries (both writing and films), in order to open up opportunities in the genre that might not be available otherwise.

I guess the story I sold because I had a vagina proves it’s working.

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Wrong.

I get that this is sort of what happened. I was given an opportunity because the publisher was aware women were underrepresented. What bothers me is that he felt the need to tell me that.

A lot of women spend their whole lives being talked down to, patronized and belittled, simply because we’re women. We’re treated as though we’re stupid, weak, and emotional. So, when something like this occurs, even with the best intentions, it’s like we’re stepping backwards, and reliving all of those slights we worked so hard to overcome.

We need WIHM because we still have a long way to go, and we haven’t quite grasped the concept of “equality” in this genre, this industry, or this world. Women don’t want to be treated better than men. We don’t want to get something we haven’t earned. We want to be treated the same as men in our industry, which means we want to be given respect based on our work and our actions. We don’t want our successes to occur because someone had to fulfill some quota.

Does that sound like equality to you?

Some Very Un-Canadian Things

People who are not from Canada seem to think some weird shit about their neighbors to the North. It’s okay, we think some weird shit about you as well. I do sometimes pronounce “about” as “aboot” and yes, I sprinkle my sentences with a few eh’s now and then. I love my poutine, and it’s pretty difficult to offend me. Yep. I’m very Canadian in these ways.

However, I do have a lot of, let’s call them quirks, that are very un-Canadian. Don’t tell the others. They might polite me to death.

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The biggest one: I hate winter. Cold, snow, ice; it can all fuck off. I hate it. Hate everything about it.

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Ugh. Hate it.

You might be wondering why I don’t move, if I hate the weather most of the year. Well, I live in Ontario, which means I can’t afford to leave. And, to be honest, there are a lot of other things I like about this country (like free health care), so I crank the heat (a costly endeavor), throw on some layers, avoid the outside, and mutter about the cold to anyone who’ll listen.

And hockey? No thanks.

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People think that part of being a Canadian citizen is a love of hockey. Sorry, but no. I do not love hockey. Oh, I can enjoy watching a game. I understand the appeal. However, I do not love it. I can barely even skate, so maybe that’s part of it. Mostly, watching a hockey game is not my idea of time well spent. There. I said it.

And while I don’t want to be like them, I don’t hate Americans. I don’t think there are many of us who do. Who started that rumor? Fuck you, whoever you are.

Polite, but…

Canadians are famous for how nice we are, and I think that’s great. Yes, my default setting is “sorry,” when I bump into people, but I think that’s just plain decency. If you aren’t paying attention and walk into someone, apologize. Jeeze.

However, I can be extremely intolerant. Not in the way you probably think, though. I believe everyone should be allowed to be who they are. Let your freak flag fly and whatever. I look at the person inside all of that, and I have zero patience for assholes. I don’t care what religion, color, sexual orientation you are, if you’re an asshole, I will NOT tolerate you. Not even to be polite.

And if you chew with your mouth open, smell like rotten garbage, or get in my personal space, I’m going to be annoyed to the point that, if I do bump into you, I’m not even going to say sorry.

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Let’s see, what else…?

Oh, I don’t mind maple syrup, but it’s not my favorite thing. It’s nice on pancakes, but I’m not putting that shit on everything. Although, I do think maple bacon was sent by the gods. Damn, that shit is good.

Also this right here?

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I don’t own a single flannel shirt. That Canadian tuxedo shit has to stop. Canadians wearing flannel and/or denim shirts all the time, to everything, is a misconception. Maybe because it gets so cold and flannel is so warm people think it makes sense. I’m actually not a fan of flannel, unless we’re talking pajamas, then maybe. But denim? Fuck that shit. I hate denim shirts and jackets. They make me nauseous.

Finally, I am not bilingual. Thanks to the basic French classes I was forced to take in school, I know enough French to read a label or to pick out a word or two from someone who is speaking French (if they go very slow and enunciate everything), so I can get the gist of what they’re saying, but I am not able to speak French. I’m terrible at it, actually.

Does all of this make me a bad Canadian? Maybe. But if I’m a bad Canadian, then so is a big portion of our population, because most of the stereotypes I’ve mentioned are just that; stereotypes.

What about you guys? What’s a common trait within your culture that you just can’t go along with?

In Case You Missed It…

I completely forgot to announce that I did something. A book something. This:

 

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Heath’s Hollow has been a ghost town for more than fifty years. Its residents just don’t know they’re dead. 

Actually, I planned to publish in late January, but buggered it all up when I was uploading and I forgot to click the “pre-order” box, so it’s available now. If you like a creepy ghost-story type of read with a dash of redneck and a lot of weird, then check it out.

And maybe a leave a review. Please?

What Brings You to the Edge?

It’s always fun to look up the search terms or keywords that bring folks to your blog. Some of them make no sense, but others can be revealing. So, I looked at the top search terms used to find this blog in 2017, and man, you all did not disappoint. Let’s begin:

Clitsporn…. What the fuck is this? Top of the list, kids. TOP. OF. THE. LIST.

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Monster porn and Quickporn (apparently a website) were also in there. My blog is not porn, dicksmacks. I’ve written about it, though, I guess. Is that all it takes to send every perv seeking out porn sites over here? Well, I wish I’d though of it sooner. Porn, porn, porn. There. A few more clicks, right?

Elvis in Tweed: There were about five or six searches that used the words “Elvis” and “Tweed.”

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Actual fire hydrant in Tweed. Yes. 

Elvis is a big deal here, so I guess I’m doing my hometown proud.  Or something.

What I write in reply of whatever:

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I don’t know what this means. Two people used this to find my blog. So, two people out there know what this means. I hope you all are reading this post and can explain.

Stop being an offended pussy: And I stand behind this statement, so it makes sense a search term like this would send a few kids this way. Hopefully, they stopped being offended pussies.

Katrina Monroe pussy porn:

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Apparently, Katrina has a way more interesting day job than the rest of us.

Pussyeatingspace: One word. No spaces. Uh…

12 days of Edging: I don’t know what this means either. I’m assuming edging is like a crafting thing. Boy, were those guys disappointed, eh?

Ladybird books thieving bastards…

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A bit of research revealed that Ladybird Books is actually a real publisher. And they’re thieving bastards. So.

Now you know.

I suppose I should work on my tags, make it all relevant. I mean, no one seemed to find this place by searching books, writing, or horror fiction. They didn’t even search my damn name.

WHY AREN’T I FAMOUS YET?!

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But we all know I’m not fixing those tags. This is way more entertaining.

New Year’s Resolutions I Probably Won’t Keep

I’d like to make New Year’s resolutions, but I know what I am and that is someone who never sticks to resolutions. Instead, I like to make myself promises I know I might not keep.

So, what’s on the agenda this year?

First, I’m going to read more. I used to read at least one book every week. That’s a minimum of fifty books every year. In 2017, I read half of that (not counting the books I’ve beta read or edited for friends, of course). The problem was that I got busy. When I finally sat down to read most days, my poor eyes were so tired, that it took everything in me just to stay focused. It just wasn’t as pleasurable as it used to be, no matter how good the book was. So, the plan is to read earlier in the day, on breaks, and/or in the mornings, before the day has had its way with me.

And what about my writing. God, my writing…

Okay, here’s the shit show I’ve created for myself:

UNFINISHED PROJECTS: For some reason, I have two folders for these: In Progress and WIPs needing rewrites/outlines. Both files contain projects I’ve started writing or at least started outlining. So, not counting the ones I haven’t moved to these folders yet, I have 46 unfinished projects.

FORTY.

SIX.

How does a person not finish that many things? In my defense, I am actively working on most of them, which might make things worse. Too many thoughts in my head.

We won’t even talk about the ideas I’ve got listed for later. You know, when I finish these others ones.

My goal is to at least write a first draft for half of these. I don’t think that’s aiming too high…

FINISHED/ON SUBMISSION/PREPPING FOR PUBLICATION: These are completed stories/novels/novellas that I’m either submitting to publishers, considering publishing myself, or editing because I hate them. Got 54 of these. Of these 54 finished projects, 9 are novels/novellas.  (EDIT: I have signed a couple of these novellas with publishers since writing this post.)

I plan to make some decisions on at least the novels/novellas, because seriously.

SCHEDULED FOR PUBLICATION: This is something that in most cases, I have no control over. I have 8 projects signed with various publications. Most of these are scheduled for publication in early 2018, but 2 have no publication date as of yet, so… yeah.

I also promised myself I’d be better at staying on top of household chores.

Let’s all laugh.

I promise myself this every year, and every year, I end up falling behind. Housework just isn’t a priority, I guess. Sorry family. I will try. Again. As always.

And marketing. I do try to learn as much as I can about book promotion, and then I make an attempt to use what I’ve learned. I try to network, to tweet without being annoying and to Facebook without making my page a total “buy my shit” nightmare, and I try to make the rounds of book blogs and such with each new release (this is almost harder than the query process, by the way) but it’s hard. I started Deviant Dolls as part of this marketing effort, but it’s also not the easiest gig. You’ve gotta keep people motivated, stay on top of shit, and constantly think up new ways to promote everyone’s books effectively. Am I succeeding?

Sadly, I don’t think so. Spinning my wheels mostly.

In 2018, I promise to be more aggressive with my marketing. I also want to be smarter about it and I want to make Deviant Dolls way more effective for everyone involved. We’ll see what happens.

Oh, and blogging. I know I’ve been the worst this year at updating this blog. Terrible. This isn’t the only place I write things for, though, and that makes it more challenging. I write monthly articles for Underground Book Reviews and I try to post something for the Deviant Dolls blog now and then, so, often, when it comes time to write something here, I’m out of ideas or just don’t feel like it.

That will change, though. I’ve already got some posts lined up, and they won’t all be about writing. No, really. They won’t.

I think that’s it. Enough for one year’s worth of broken promises anyway. How about you? Got any goals for 2018?

Until Next Year

It is upon us; the end of another year. Before the obligatory New Year, New Me post, I want to share a few Christmas traditions in our family and wish you all a happy holiday, however you celebrate.

Our Christmas traditions begin with the shopping. Usually, Kurt and I like to put off buying anything until the VERY LAST MINUTE. I’m talking week of Christmas, two or three days to get all the things we need kind of thing. Most years we’re shopping on Christmas Eve, or the 23rd at the earliest, and freaking out because that one thing one of our kids wanted is sold out. I mean, HOW CAN THAT BE? We only waited until almost Christmas to buy it.

And let’s not forget our fellow shoppers. Running around like:

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We bitch and moan, but secretly, we love it. I know this now because this year we were done shopping by the first week of December and it felt all wrong. I’ve been buying bullshit gifts since then to try to recapture the exhilarating feeling of panic and despair that means Christmas has arrived. It didn’t work.

We also like to fuck with our kids. You know, hide gifts we know they’re counting on. Put stupid shit under the tree that we know they don’t need or want. Remind them every day in the months leading up to Christmas that WE HAVE THE POWER NOW and they must conform or get the opposite of what they asked for.

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Now, the kids are pretty confident we’ll try to make them happy at Christmas, but they’re not entirely sure, so this age-old game of be good or else still works (they’re 19, 18 and 13 now). Yes, yes, I know this is cruel and you shouldn’t base Christmas presents on good behavior, blah, blah, psychology, blah, trauma, puke. Look, I was raised to behave the last few months of the year, and I’m not fucked up because of it. I’m fucked up because of other things, so my kids will survive. Also;

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It’s also a tradition in my family to avoid as many Christmas dinners/parties as possible. So far, this year, we’ve avoided all of them. Thank you, job. You’re the best. We have dinner at the in-laws’ house on Christmas day, and then me and my brother’s wife usually team up to cook a dinner for my side. That won’t happen this year, (again, thank you, job), because of work and conflicting schedules.

Look, I know it’s about togetherness and whatever, but to me, Christmas is also about feeling jolly. Well, I’m jolly at home. So there. I do enjoy our family dinners once I’m there, but don’t tell anyone.

Since my kids are old enough to know the truth about Santa (when my youngest found out she informed us her whole life was a lie and refused to speak to me for an entire day), we don’t do the cookies and milk thing anymore, nor do we leave the special magic key outside for Santa to get in (we’ve never had a chimney, you see). That makes me sad. I did enjoy that. I suppose I could make them do it anyway…

Instead we buy booze and make a shit ton of food. Then we binge until we feel sick and go to bed.

Kurt and I also make a rule not to buy each other anything. I mean, if either of us wants something, we’ll just get it. Making sure our family and friends are happy is enough. However, the kids “buy” us stuff, so are we really honoring this rule?

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That brings us to Christmas morning. At my house we have a long standing tradition of me being up before everyone else. My children have NEVER woke up before me. Wait… that’s a little sad, isn’t it? Hmm. Anyway, it usually goes like this:

I have to pee, so I get up and do that. Then, I say, “Oh, hello crack of dawn. Nice to see you again,” because I never sleep much past 6:00 am. I decide a coffee and some quiet time is the perfect way to start Christmas day, and I make said coffee. Half hour later, no one is awake. I start to get antsy.

Wait another thirty minutes or so, and then I’m like, “Fuck this shit,” and I go to Kennedy’s room. I turn on the light.

Wait.

She usually doesn’t budge.

So, then I ask Bear (the dog who sleeps in Ken’s room) if he’d like to go outside. Usually, he doesn’t, because he’s a lazy shit who hates getting up early.

Then, I poke Kennedy until she opens her eyes and I’m all, “IT’S CHRISTMAS!!!!”

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And she reluctantly gets up. Seriously, even when she was little, I had to be all “GET UP NOW!”

So now it’s just me and Kennedy, staring at each other. I’m like, “Let’s wake your sister up.”

We do this, and Courtney (sister) is all “Ugh. WHY?” but she gets up.

Now, three of us are sitting in the living room, staring at the presents, and I become Mom again and say we can’t open anything until Kurt wakes up. They’re not amused. I let them empty their stockings. This takes maybe five minutes.

So then it’s just us, staring at the presents again. I say, “I’ll take the dogs out, have another coffee, and if he’s not up after that, I’ll wake him.”

Every. Single. Year.

Weird, right? Anyway, we start making a lot of noise. Kurt doesn’t wake up because he could sleep through a hurricane and a fire, and I end up coaxing the dogs to run all over him until he opens his eyes.

And THEN it’s time to open presents.

Kurt likes to wait until everyone has opened theirs before he even looks at his. Most of the time, I have to be all “OPEN THE FUCKING THINGS,” or he’ll just keep sitting there, not opening them. So annoying.

After all of that, we cook a giant Christmas morning breakfast. My favorite part.

[image error]And then I take the tree down on  Boxing Day and it’s all over.

There. What are your Christmas traditions? Any weird ones? I’d love to hear about them.

 

Hey, Remember me?

As 2017 winds down, I realize I’ve been a terrible blogger. One of the “resolutions” (although I don’t really do those) I have for 2018 is to update this blog regularly. At least monthly. We’ll see how that goes, right? Do I say this every year? I feel like I say it every year.

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Anyway, for my last post of 2017, I want to talk about my time as the Publisher Killer.

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Just kidding. Sort of. Anyway, I also want to tell you about some things I know now that I didn’t know at the end of 2016.

Biggest lesson of all: I’m not actually bad luck. (shut up, I’m not) I had some great luck this year and made pretty significant strides in this publishing thing. I learned that, hey, I’m pretty good at this, and I’m not the only one that thinks so. That’s a nice lesson to learn.

Second: Never count on anything. The second you start believing something is totally, undoubtedly going to “be,” it will stop being. I don’t know why this is, but there you go. Always have a backup plan. No, I didn’t have a backup plan this year and that’s unfortunate. Also, frustrating.

Which reminds me, never count on anyone, either. Not entirely. Something I learned as a part of my marketing efforts. No one wants you to succeed as much as yourself. Sometimes, they don’t even care if they succeed, so you’re better off not counting on them, even if they say they’re up for the challenge of doing something as a team. If you’re working harder than they are most or all of the time, then it’s not much of a team, is it? No. It is not.

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Also, I’m so lost when it comes to book promotion. I get the concept. I understand the basic idea of it, but when it comes to actual marketing, I’m not making much headway. I keep trying. Still learn new things all the time, and I try to apply them, but man, it’s hard. What sells books for one guy does nothing for someone else. You have to find “your” thing and use it, but I’m not sure what my thing is yet.

Enough looking back. Let’s keep going forward, right? Right.

So far, 2018 looks pretty good for me in terms of projects “in the works.” First, I teamed up with Unnerving’s Eddie Generous and bloody genius horror author, Mark Allan Gunnells for SPLISH, SPLASH, TAKIN A BLOODBATH; a collection of slasher horror you won’t want to miss. (Tentative release date is early 2018) Just look at this cover.

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I also signed with Hindered Souls Press to publish EAT THE RICH, a weird horror novel with aliens, hobos and cannibals in July. (I do love my cannibals, as many of you know) And, although I don’t have a publication date yet, I signed with DIGITAL HORROR FICTION a while ago to reprint my horror short, WHERE THERE IS LIFE (Previously published in the now closed Deadlights Magazine).

In the summer of 2018, my dark comedy story, CONTRACTUAL OBLIGATIONS will be part of A SHARP STICK IN THE EYE, a dark comedy anthology by Books and Boos Press.

Now, my sci-fi/military horror story, THE CARTEL, was scheduled to be published in 2018 as well, but then Cohesion Press closed, so that story’s fate is up in the air now. I will find a new home for it, though. Maybe. (UPDATE: Now Cohesion Press is NOT closed. Not sure what that means.)

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Yes. Much confusion on my end. I’ll keep you posted.

Finally, I have a handful of novellas/novels I’m currently editing and/or submitting, including CATS LIKE CREAM, originally signed by DarkFuse, which closed, so there may be one of those wedged in there somewhere.

Funny, I felt like I wasn’t very productive over the past few months, but I guess I was wrong. I had some setbacks in 2017 (Re: THREE publishers I had contracts with closing and then a couple of publishers who’d published my work closing, and a handful more I’d subbed work to closing), so I’m excited to see the end of it and welcome 2018. To all of you who’ve hung in there with me, small presses, big publishers, indie authors; all of them need readers to survive. Support your favorites by subscribing/buying their books to ensure they keep producing awesome shit for you to read. Like this beauty:

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If you haven’t already, don’t forget to check out my latest novella, CHURCH, released by Unnerving in October. And for the love of Christ, don’t forget to leave a review.

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And, last thing, I promise, check out the December of Darkness promotion we’ve got going on over at Deviant Dolls. Lots of freebies, giveaways, and awesome deals for horror/dark fiction lovers.