James Dorr's Blog, page 9

Haunted “Haus” Follow-up Set to Feature Victorians

The warning was there: We consider reprints but generally do not publish them unless they are absolutely exceptional. But it was my go-to story for books like this. The pitch: CultureCult Press is seeking original short stories for HAUNTED HAUS, an upcoming anthology of haunted house tales edited by Parth Sarathi Chakraborty. HAUNTED HAUS is a spiritual followup to the anthology HAUS from CultureCult Press, published in 2022.

And the tale: “Victorians,” originally published in GOTHIC GHOSTS (Tor, 1997) and no stranger itself to more  recent outings.

The pay was pretty crummy too — in fact there was no pay, only an electronic  copy on publication. But what the heck, maybe just for pride?, I sent it in anyhow on August 20.  And so, Tuesday afternoon, came the reply: We are pleased to inform you that your story “Victorians” has been selected for publication in HAUNTED HAUS. (Yes, that is “house” with a German spelling.)

And there you have it.

Sept. Last Sunday Poetry Singing the Blues

More like “grays” actually on a rainy, rainy yesterday evening greeting for the Bloomington Writers Guild’s Last Sunday Poetry at Morgenstern Books (cf. August 26, et al.), though for all that the crowd wasn’t overly small. Featured poet Helena Mesa, author of HORSE DANCE UNDERWATER and WHERE LAND IS INDISTINGUISHABLE FROM SEA as well as co-editor of MENTOR & MUSE: ESSAYS FROM POETS TO POETS, led off with a group of primarily personal poems on growing up, love, life as a Cuban American (albeit born and grown up in the states) including stories and visits to the “old country,” and (as she put it before one poem early on) “desire for love, for connections in an imperfect world,” these for the most part from her second book but ending up with a few new poems as well.

Then second came Doug Paul Case, author of AMERICANITIS (Ghost City Press, 2023) and editor of the anthology A FLAME CALLED INDIANA from Indiana University Press, as well as five chapbooks going back to 2015, with poems themed largely on observations and feelings in response (in his words, at one point, “I want new ways to state the inscrutable”). These also were primarily from his book but, as with Mesa before him, ending up with a pair of new works, the first of these quite long.

After the “featureds,” nine poets came up for the following open mic, with me in third place with a poem from August’s “Third Sunday Write” (cf. September 13), “Once In A Blue Moon,” about how that orb was once actually blue, but it all was since washed off.

Great Man Makes Semi-Finals in Alien Buddha Horror Showdown; Future Time Vol. 4 Received

The word came Friday, the 20th, from Alien Buddha Press:  Congrats on being a semi-finalist in the 2024 Horror Showdown.

From here, we have 3 guest judges who will help us get these 49 stories down to 5 finalists. And from there, it will be an open poll vote in the ABP FB group to get this year’s winner.

The reference goes back to the press’s acceptance of reprint story “The Great Man” for THE ALIEN BUDDHA’S HOUSE OF HORROR #7 (see July 21), a tale of post-revolutionary France, and political turmoil, and . . . guillotines.  But also a strange submission of sorts insofar as it was to a contest as well as just a publication, with a savory prize of $400!  And now with an update:  “The Great Man” has scored a second victory, publication (to come out, I understand, on October 2) and now the first preliminary judging too.  More to be here, of course, when it happens.

And one small thing more, For the editing process, I ask that you only now request changes that are not related to the plot of your story. Spelling and punctuation changes can be made. If you see anything with your story please let me know before the end of next weekend.  For which My okay went back Saturday evening.

Then also for Saturday evening, one more item:  my authors copy of ONCE UPON A FUTURE TIME, VOL. 4 (cf. June 27, April 30, et al.), an anthology of sf treatments of fairy and folktales, arrived in my mailbox.  Officially published in August, for more information, possible ordering, just press here.

My story in this:  “The Blue Man,” a variant on “Bluebeard.”

The Goth Cat Triana Wishes Herself a (Slightly Early) Happy Birthday

(b. 9-22-16 — “A childless cat lady, and proud of it!”)

Once In a Writers Guild 3rd Sunday Write

Excuses first: it has been a busy time, what with 1st Sunday Prose, the Arts Fair, and all.  But still I should check by the Bloomington Writers Guild’s Third Sunday Write (see August 2, et al.) Facebook page more often.  Though (second excuse) only one person got to it before me this month.

Or, technically last month, since moderator Shana Ritter had the prompts up August 24, and here it is Friday the Thirteenth of September already.  Bad luck all around?

Or . . . this isn’t one of my better contributions either, I think.  But play the game, whether goodly or badly, yes? This/last month’s first offering being the one I selected:

Once in a blue moon

Once in a blue moon —
yes it did happen! —
the moon became actually blue,
or perhaps more akin to
a bright cerulean.
Its resident, known as
“The Man in the Moon,”
had been feeling himself especially blue
(that is blue, like the feeling,
in music, “The Blues,”
a deeply set sadness),
in this case sorely lacking
a Woman in the Moon,
the Man being all by himself in his heavenly home
and, thus, lonely enough to cause sadness —
and more than just once, I’m told!
But this time the Man in the Moon
feeling literal (as he does sometimes)
decided to go public,
taking a paint brush and giving his home
a whole new appearance,
as seen from the Earth, below.
Really, though, it seemed a bit too much also —
even the Man in the Moon realized that —
that personal feelings sometimes should stay secret,
and fortunately what he had used
had been water paint which is why,
come the next celestial rainstorm
the whole mess got washed down.
And thus this is why (aha, there’s a moral?)
the moon is moon-colored when it’s viewed today,
while Earth’s oceans are blue.

Casket Girls, Brood to Be Out Halloween; Contents, Cover Revealed

The original call had been modest enough. We’re looking for short stories up to 5000 words, and poetry of any length.  That and a picture of UK sponsor West End Publishing’s proposed book cover, with title, gave enough detail (cf. July 8): A BROOD OF VAMPIRES.

So this seemed a job for les filles à les caissettes, the young French ladies exported to New Orleans in 1728, and what better than their origin story, “Casket Girls.”  And so, off it went.

The reply was quick, it has been accepted, originally planned to be published October 1.  But today (well technically yesterday — for technical reasons this is being posted a day late) came an email:  Just a quick update regarding the release of A BROOD OF VAMPIRES.  The release date has been changed from 1st of October to 31st of October. Last year, our Halloween release date proved popular, and so we’ve decided to do the same again this year.

And a little more news too, it is planned to be open for pre-ordering on October 1st.  And also, above, a picture of what that cover will look like as well a list of stories and authors — with more to come here as it becomes known.

Vampires Mark Both Halves of Sunday Double-Header

Sunday, September 1, a new day, a new month.  But the second day of Bloomington’s 4th Street Festival of the Arts and Crafts (see below, August 31, et al.), with its Bloomington Writers Guild’s “Spoken Word Stage,” brought fourteen more half-hour sessions by local writers to add to yesterday’s sixteen, this time (with I think just one fiction presentation) almost all poetry. But there was one oddity.

I had not been scheduled to read at all this day, but came just to listen to some of the others, interspersed with a couple of stops at the Library — or at least until 4 that afternoon — but at 12:30 p.m. the posted reader apparently had been unable to make it.  Writers Guild Chair April Ridge had just taken over as MC at noon and, thinking quickly, suggested we make the now-vacant half hour a “round robin” session, with audience members coming up to read one poem each.  I, of course, had no poems with me, but I didn’t want to ignore the call either, so I remembered several three-line pieces (I hesitate to call them “haiku”) I’d had published a few years back in STAR*LINE on the subject of a notorious Mermaid Vampiress, several of which I could write down by rote. . . .

So about half way through, and after a particularly long presentation, I took my place at the front and by way of contrast offered “Gourmet Warning,” on how mermaid vampiresses produce their young, and why one might want to take an extra close look before eating their caviar.  Which, I might add, went over quite well.

But then 4 p.m. brought the day’s second event, the Writers Guild’s  regular “First Sunday Prose” on West Kirkwood Avenue’s Juniper Gallery.  This was to be a special session honoring National Literacy Month, co-sponsored with the Public Library’s VITAL — Volunteers in Tutoring Adult Learners — Program, with  featured readers from countries outside the US sharing stories and poems, often personal, written in what was to them just-learned English.  It was very impressive, especially when adding the nervousness one might normally feel in reading anything before a group of strangers.

This was followed, though, by a more normal “open mic” segment, with four local readers, of which I came last with a three-minute vampire story, “The Shackles,” loosely based on the 1936 movie DRACULA’S DAUGHTER.

Thunder Scheduled for Saturday 4th St. Arts Fair “Last Dance”

The weather channel had predicted a 70 percent chance for thunderstorms at 1:30 p.m., Saturday, when my reading was scheduled for the Bloomington Writers Guild’s “Spoken Word Stage” at Bloomington’s 2024 annual 4th Street Festival of the Arts and Crafts (cf. September 3 2022, et al.). In fact, the story I would be reading even began: For five nights and days the great storm had raged. . . . So as luck would have it, while it was at least cloudy most of the day until then, when 1:30 came the sky was sunny.

I didn’t mind.

My story, in its half-hour slot, came exactly midway through a day-long festival of poetry and prose and occasional music on Grant Street, cater cornered off a several-block 4th Street stretch of artists’ and sculptors’, et al., booths from all over the country. And while last year’s skipped the readings part (though still giving the Writers Guild a table for “Poetry on Demand,” where local poets write short pieces on the spot for fair goers, plus general information), this year’s fest slipped more wholly back to its pre-Covid norm. So when my turn came, reading from my latest book, AVOID SEEING A MOUSE AND OTHER TALES OF THE REAL AND SURREAL, I presented its opening offering, “The Last Dance” — originally published in my 2017 novel-in-stories, TOMBS: A CHRONICLE OF LATTER-DAY TIMES OF EARTH — a tale of a far-future, dying Earth and a great storm that killed so many there wasn’t room to bury them all, nor ghouls enough surviving to eat those that were unburied. And thus the solution: to throw a city-wide party, a final dance for the no-longer-living.

It went over well, I thought, as did the other presentations — sixteen in all for today — that I attended (and which are still going on as I write this in the Monroe County Public Library, two blocks away). Tomorrow, Sunday, will continue with fourteen more presentations, and I plan to be on hand then to enjoy more myself. While for those not local (as well as those local too, if desired), AVOID SEEING A MOUSE and with it “The Last Dance” can be ordered by pressing here to read for oneself.

Substitution, Summer Mark Last Sunday Poetry

The summer part first, it was a lovely late August evening for the Bloomington Writers Guild’s Last Sunday Poetry (cf. July 28, et al.) at Morgenstern Books. But one featured poet was unable to make it, so Coordinator Hiromi Yoshida had had to draft local writer/dancer/actor plus co-writer with Wild Swan Theatre of MYTHS, MASKS, AND MAGIC: WORLD STORIES OF FIRST TIMES Zilia Balkansky-Sellés (who we’ve met in the past, cf. First Sunday Prose October 2 2022, March 1 2020, et al.) to stand in instead.

Proving herself an able poet along with an essayest, memoirist, etc., with work as well in the original volume of STORMWASH: ENVIRONMENTAL POEMS (see April 19, March 11), Balkansky-Sellés answered the call with a varied palette of mostly new poems, including two still being worked on for STORMWASH, VOLUME 2. She was followed by Poetry Society of Indiana President as well as a leader of numerous poetry workshops John Hinton, with two collections in print, BLACKBIRD SONGS and HELD, a self-described darker poet who, in his words, started off with a “semi-happy” poem and continued from there with a series of mostly short, personal poems on such subjects as coffee, fear of loss, and dancing (however ineptly) at a school-sponsored father-daughter event.

Ending the session, nine “open mic” poets read with me precisely in the middle at number five. My offering, tipping a hat to the season as well, came from last month’s Third Sunday Write challenge (cf. August 2) with the title “High Summer,” on angels, wars, and marijuana.

Cyclops, Stygian Lepus 5 On Track for Print Resurrection

The email was terse: Please download and check the EDITION FIVE print proof.  But after instructions, etc., it added [p]rint launch is scheduled for 31st August 2024.

Any changes you require need to be with us within the next 48 hours. Anything received after that will be updated after launch.

So . . . STYGIAN LEPUS 5?  This looks like a job for the Wayback Machine!  And sure enough, a week or two over a full year ago (cf. August 7 2023, et al.) my story, “Cyclops” (originally published by DARK MOON DIGEST in a YOUNG ADULT HORROR special edition, June 2013), concerning a person born with only one eye, among other features, and his immediate family members’ reactions, was reprinted in the Australian e-magazine, STYGIAN LEPUS.

And now it’s to come out, apparently, as a 203 page full-size print publication, with issue prices listed in various world monetary systems, which for the U.S. will be $15.99.  The email came Tuesday with attachment, with no problems in the story proper but an update needed for the bio with it, which I sent back that evening.

More will follow here as it becomes known.