Rebecca Besser's Blog, page 61
June 26, 2014
Interview with Author Jeffrey Kosh
Bec: Welcome to my blog, please start out by sharing a little bit about yourself -
Jeff: Hi, Rebecca, first thing first let me say it’s a great honor being interviewed by one of my favorite authors, and a pretty lady, too.
Me? I’m nobody; I’m the guy you notice seating alone in a corner at the great party. He’s sharp dressed, reserved, and alone. Come closer and you find a different guy. He never shuts up, is full of weird stories to tell, likes to share everything he knows, and has a good sense of humor.
Have you figured that guy? Come on there’s one at every event.
Bec: What first got you interested in writing?
Jeff: I was blessed and cursed with a bright imagination from birth. I’m a creative person; my studies were in the Arts, and I practiced drawing, painting, and writing. I wrote many stories, but was too afraid to publish them. Some were good, some … well, they were just awful, but the ugly truth is that I grew up in a family which didn’t believe in me. I was never encouraged in anything which I cared for. So, ended doing an odd job or the other, before finding my own way, and finally find some peace. However, five years ago there was a steer of direction in my life and I decided to believe in myself, by applying for everything I loved. Writing was one of those things.
Bec: What are the worst struggles you think writers face, writing and marketing?
Jeff: First: lack of patience. Hurrying up, creating stories on the fads of the moment because that will surely bring attainment in the earnest, leads to nothing. Success, if it ever shows up, is something you achieve only with dedication and love for what you are writing.
Write a story because you want to read it; do not write it because it will be the next Harry Potter or Twilight, but you don’t like either.
Second: Marketing. Today’s writers need good marketing skills or someone else who can do that for them. Self-promotion sells more than potential best-sellers, sadly.
And editing, editing, editing. Never underestimate editing.
Bec: Tell us about your book/s -
Jeff: ‘Feeding the Urge’ is a complex story. The main character, Axel J. Hyde, is a weird individual, a big boy with the soul of a ten-year-old kid. Pacific in appearance, Axel hides a second personality; that of an impulsive serial murderer. Yet, it’s easy to sympathize with him once you discover he slices and dices only pedophiles, rapists, and stalkers. Apparently, he has an obsession for wiping out those he feels responsible for his traumatized infancy. Nonetheless he’s not Batman, he kills people because he feels an urge to do it. In fact, he believes that a spirit of murder and revenge rides him as Voodoo’s Loas do with their hosts, feeding from the ‘Essence’ of their pain. To better understand this concept I should reveal many parts of my novel, so better leave the rest for the reader to discover.
Bec: Are you working on a sequel/s?
Jeff: Not now. It took seven months to pen down ‘Feeding’, with a lot of revision and changes in the middle.
A 90,000 words novel can be tiresome. From start I decided that it would be a self-contained story with no possibility for a sequel, but the thing had its own plans in the final draft, so with this new ending I devised there’s clearly space for eventual sequels. The fate of Axel hangs in the hands of the readers; if there will be enough enthusiasm over this character I’ll surely extend his life.
Bec: What other projects are you working on or involved with?
Jeff: I just finished and submitted to a publisher a short story set in the Golden Age of Piracy. It is a zombie story in an alternate timeline, yet I can’t disclose more. Can just say it is based on the legend of the Black Freighter. One year ago I novelized a graphic novel to test my writing skills. Obviously, to avoid any copyright infringement I offered it for free to my Facebook fans and friends. I called it a serial chiller, because I released it one chapter a week as a parting gift before leaving for Thailand. It was very successful, but it even resulted in one of my followers to delete friendship as she judged my writing too graphic and ‘ghoulish’.
I’m also working on an anthology of tales set in my fictional town of Prosperity Glades and another one based on Urban Legends from Thailand.
Bec: Shower or bath?
Jeff: Bath, absolutely! Pleasure is something which is best achieved slowly.
Bec: What’s your favorite color?
Jeff: Black. I love dark nights, bats, panthers, and black clothes. Besides, in my teen years I was a headbanging Heavy Metal fan, and later went into Goth culture.
Bec: Dance or sing?
Jeff: None of the above. Yet, would you believe I was selected at 8 to sing in a kid’s chorus. I hated it and did all my best to be thrown out. As for dancing … I have two concrete shoes at my feet.
Bec: Do you like to listen to music while you write or have complete silence?
Jeff: I’d love to have complete silence, but here in Ao Nang it’s almost impossible. There’s no privacy, and Thai are active 24/24. Add to that the hundred of tourists who come here to enjoy a good time, and you get the picture. Excuse me a minute … I have to get out and chainsaw that darn German who keeps talking loudly at his cell phone under my porch.
Bec: What’s your favorite food?
Jeff: You should ask the contrary. There’s only one thing I can’t stand and that’s melon. The rest goes into my stomach.
Bec: What genres do you most like to read/write?
Jeff: Horror for writing. As for reading, anything I find interesting, paying special attention to science fiction.
Bec: What time of day do you like to write?
Jeff: Night. My wife sleeps, that German guy SHOULD sleep, and those pesky Thai are out jumping from bar to bar.
Bec: Do you find writing a lonely profession?
Jeff: No. It depends by your character. I know writers who are quite extroverted, and others who are shy. In itself, the act of writing is, and must be, an inner working; however once you close your laptop you can share your experience with other people for suggestions and criticism.
Bec: Clowns or mimes?
Jeff: Do not even mention them. Clowns are scary to me and mimes … I do not want to offend anyone, so let’s just say I do not have sympathy for both, as you can see in the first chapter of my novel. Kamp Koko is a clown-themed summer camp.
Bec: What would you share with a beginning writer?
Jeff: Anything. I have no secrets. I strongly believe in sharing, that’s one of the things which make our life worth living. My best suggestion is to believe in what you do. Perseverance and faith.
Bec: Loud or quiet?
Jeff: Usually quiet. Yet surrounded by LOUD people.
Bec: What do you wish someone would have told you when you first started your writing journey?
Jeff: Four words: I believe in you.
Bec: Chocolate or strawberry?
Jeff: What about strawberries covered by hot chocolate while having a hot bath?
Bec: Do you think having other writers as friend is a good thing for your growth as a writer?
Jeff: Absolutely. I like to get criticism from fellow writers, and their praises, too.
Bec: What’s your favorite book? Why?
Jeff: ‘Frankenstein or The Modern Prometheus’. I’ve felt like Frankenstein’s monster for much of my life. Lately, during the creation of ‘Feeding the Urge’ I’ve felt some sympathy for Victor, too.
Bec: Who’s your favorite author? Why?
Jeff: Mary Shelly. She wrote that unreachable book and was a courageous woman. Next come Michael Slade, even if that is just a collective pen name of various Canadian writers. I was heavily influenced by their writing style: lot of details, passion for history and some morbid stuff.
Also, loved Michael Crichton and Stephen King.
Bec: Is there anything you would like to share that I haven’t asked you about?
Jeff: Yes. I host a blog where I try to post interesting issues on Horror and writing by me, other authors, editors, and readers. I even interviewed an Esperanto aficionado once, nothing to do with horror, but I felt it was a fascinating topic. I like offering space to people who want to share something.
Here goes the link, if you care: http://jeffreykosh.blogspot.com/
You can also follow my tweets at: twitter.com/#!/JeffreyKosh or add me to your circles on Google + and visit my novel’s fan page at: http://www.facebook.com/feeding.the.urge
If you want to know more about Prosperity Glades, Dr. Axel Hyde will be your host at: http://www.facebook.com/axel.j.hyde
Bec: Thank you for stopping by and sharing! Best of luck with your book and future project!
Jeff: Thanks Rebecca, and keep on writing. We need to know what’s going on in California.
©Rebecca Besser & Jeffrey Kosh, 2012. All rights reserved.
Interview with Author Charles Day and his alter ego, The Evil Jester
Bec: Welcome to my blog, please start out by sharing a little bit about yourself -
Hey everyone, I’m Charles Day. Father, husband, Adult Home Coordinator with my day job, publisher of non-fiction and fiction — writer by night and early AM!
Bec: What first got you interested in writing?
I just love to create imaginary worlds from the voices that dictate what they’ve experienced. I’m also an avid reader, I watch a ton of movies, and I’ve always wanted to be a movie director and do screenplays. I guess by writing fiction, it helps me to achieve some of these desires; I feel I’m making movies out of my writing.
Bec: What are the worst struggles you think writers face, writing and marketing?
For me, first and foremost, I have to be sure I’ve done my best to tell a story that will entertain. Then it’s building up a readership, writing stories that are different from everything else that’s out there, and being able to accept the fact that you really have to be a shameless self-promoter. But, if you truly have a story you believe in, and know for sure many people are going to like it, it helps boost confidence in promoting.
Bec: Tell us about your book/s –
Okay, I’ll try. My newest release, “Legend of The Pumpkin Thief,” with Noble YA Publishers LLC, is a story that revolves around, Nick, a seventeen-year-old who wants to go on to college and eventually sit for the police exam. His ultimate goal is to be a detective someday. As the story develops, he becomes involved in doing some early detective work when some pumpkins suddenly disappear in his small town of Chesterville.
An urban legend foretells of a Pumpkin Thief who chooses a town each Halloween, stealing the pumpkins so his ghosts, goblins, and other Halloween creatures can have their right to free passage into this chosen town. Without the pumpkins to keep them away, they have free sovereignty to wreak terror and mayhem. Is Nick’s town the chosen one this year?
Although this is a young adult novel, my first actually, it’s fun for all ages. I had a blast writing this, and I’m excited to be working on my next YA novel for them. I really enjoy writing for this genre.
My novella, “Lockdown,” with Wicked East Press included in Hannibal’s Manor is about a young guy with a mental illness who lives with his mother. He’s a huge kid for twenty — think of Micheal Meyers in the Halloween remake — and he also has something supernatural going on. Well, he winds up on a secured psych unit and the staff are about to find out that mental illness and the supernatural just do not mix.
“The Plan: A Mystery,” with Naked Snake Press is about this guy, Frankie who comes into a large amount of cash, but in order to retrieve it, he’s taking along a few of his friends. Little do they all know they are being set up — a conspiracy is about to go down, and Frankie and his boys are in for trouble.
Bec: Are you working on a sequel/s?
Not yet. I would love to do a sequel for the Pumpkin Thief, but I want to see how well received it is first. And if I do, I’m in contract with Noble Publishers to send it to them first, which I would do anyway, contract or not. They are a great publisher to work with. But, yeah, that would be the one.
Bec: What other projects are you working on or involved with?
My horror novel, “Deep Within,” with Twisted Library Press will be out later this year, and I’ve been working on edits for a while. It’s an 80,000 word novel, and it’s taking some time to make it the best it can be before we release it.
My YA western trilogy was just accepted on the 29th of January, one of a few projects that were still under consideration from 2011. Kyle McGertt, Destroyer of the Indian Curses, Book 1, Hunt for The Ghoulish Bartender will be out Nov/Dec 2012.
Deadly Workout, a novella is slated to be released later this year by Dopomalvi Books. Another mystery I wrote in 2011.
And then there is, “Redemption,” still under consideration with a publisher. A collaborative novella about two guys who accidentally kill a young girl in a hit and run. Problem is, they should never have left her to die. I tell the story from Al Fudrucker’s POV, and Mark Taylor tells his story from Benny Fairwether’s. Two separate stories, but the reader will see how they closely interrelate. Evil is coming and it just became furry!!
Bec: What’s your favorite color?
Blue, and black!!
Bec: If you were walking down the road and you saw a zombie walking along the opposite side of the road, what would you do?
Hell, I’d turn and run my ass off. I’m not ‘bout to let him start munching on my small brains! Hehehe!
Bec: Do you like to listen to music while you write or have complete silence?
I do both, whatever mood I’m in when I go to the table to begin writing.
Bec: What is the Evil Jester’s favorite thing to eat for supper?
Whatever small animals he can find when he leaves my house late at night, on the prowl for dinner.
Bec: What genres do you most like to read/write?
Horror, fantasy, thrillers, graphic novels, comics, mystery, and YA. I’ve noticed I’ve been genre jumping lately with my published works. I wrote two mysteries, adult horror, YA horror, and have some other ideas in the future. I go with the best story from the voices in my head, and I do my best to bring it to fruition.
Bec: How long does it take the Evil Jester to do his hair/make-up in the morning? Does he carry a small purse with him so he can fix his evil make-up, should it smudge while he’s goring it up?
Hehehehe. I’ll let him answer that. Hold on. Charlie, Bec has a question for you.
*The evil little jester opens his lid, pops out of his box using his galvanized slinky spring and leans over my shoulder to answer Bec’s question.*
“Ah, my dear, dear Rebecca, one of my first writer buds. I must admit it takes some time to do up my evil face in the AM. I do not carry a small purse, because as you know, I live in a dingy old box. Which by the way, I’d love to have you come on down one day and break some bread with me at the dinner table. We have so, so much to converse about.”
Okay, Charlie, thank you my evil little friend.
Bec: Do you find writing a lonely profession?
Hell no!! Between the voices, my characters that come alive to play with me in their fictitious world, and the evil little muse of mine who lives in a jester box, I’m never truly alone.
Bec: Has the Evil Jester ever run away and started mayhem in a crowded place?
I think we all know the answer to that one, the little devil.
Bec: What would you share with a beginning writer?
When you go to do your first draft, remember no one is going to see it but you. Take your time, but do not keep stopping and going back to redo this and that. Just get the story down on paper. You have many more edits to do from there anyway. And when you feel it’s polished, give it to a fresh set of eyes. And then, go find a publisher.
Bec: Has the Evil Jester ever bitten a cat?
Nope. He has bitten me on many occasions though; I can show you the bite marks. He hates when I reach down into his jester box! I know what many are thinking right now…dirty minds! Heheehehe!
Bec: What do you wish someone would have told you when you first started your writing journey?
Don’t do it! Heehehe!! Actually I think if someone told me: “Charles, you’re an extremist, a go getter, you have an addictive personality. If you start writing and find you love it, you’re going to be doing it for a very long time.” I would heed there advice and think about what I was getting into. Now…I can’t stop.
Bec: Do you think having other writers as friend is a good thing for your growth as a writer?
Oh, yes, absolutely. I love my writer friends. They are so supportive. I also have three that are my mentors, Gregory L. Norris, Peter Giglio, and Hollie Snider. And then there is someone I’ve looked up to for a few years now, Vince Liaguno, Author, Publisher and Board Member for the HWA. He had many conversations with me when I first started and I’ll never forget those. And Gregory was there when I was ready to quit, getting rejection after rejection. Oh, yeah, you have to have writer friends and mentors to survive in this publishing industry.
Bec: Do you have any story ideas you think are too messed up to write?
Nope!!
Bec: What’s your favorite book? Why?
Right now, my favorite book was The Heart Shaped Box by Joe Hill. My all time favorite book was Lord of The Rings when I was a kid. I had so much fun being in that world. I know I have others and I may have mentioned those in other interviews. I just love to read and have enjoyed so many.
Bec: Who’s your favorite author? Why?
Stephen King. I’m in awe of everything he writes.
Bec: If you were going to take the Evil Jester on vacation, where would he want to go and what would he want to do there?
To a remote location up in the mountains, in a log cabin!!
Bec: Is there anything you would like to share that I haven’t asked you about?
You didn’t ask me do I wear boxers or briefs. Hehehehe!! Someone asked me that on an interview. Nope, I think you covered everything.
Bec: Thank you for stopping by and sharing! Best of luck with your book and future project!
Thank you, Bec, I had a great time!!!
©Rebecca Besser & Charles Day, 2012. All rights reserved.
Interview with Author Rusty Fischer
Russ: I’m a freelance writer who decided to quit waiting for the zombies to show up at his door and write about them instead. So I wrote a little book called Zombies Don’t Cry, and decided to stick with zombies for awhile. (Okay, with the occasional vampire thrown in for good measure.)
Bec: What first got you interested in writing?
Russ: Judy Blume, in particular. Being a dork, in general.
Bec: What are the worst struggles you think writers face, writing or marketing?
Russ: Though it’s far from easy, I am much more comfortable with the writing than the marketing. I think because I can at least control the writing, while marketing is more out of my control. I think that’s why most of my marketing is writing-centered, i.e. I wrote a lot of FREE zombie and vampire stories and poems to help market my book-length stuff, because rather than a simple banner ad or something, I could at least control the content.
Bec: Tell us about your book/s -
Russ: I write about dorks, who just happen to be zombies and vampires – or hunting zombies and vampires, or zombies hunting vampires, whatevs. I write about zombies when I want to start from scratch with a new mythology, and I write about vamps when I want to take existing mythology and tweak it a smidge. I think both genres appeal to me because they’re about immortality, and I like to play with that, especially for a YA audience because I think life and death are so real to them. But mostly, it’s about the dorks.
Bec: Are you working on a sequel/s?
Russ: I am (hush, hush) working on a sequel to Zombies Don’t Cry!
Bec: What other projects are you working on or involved with?
Russ: Right now I’m pretty busy marketing my new book, Vamplayers, which surprisingly ISN’T about zombies but is hopefully fun anyway. So I’m writing a lot of guest posts for that, talking to lots of bloggers and reviewers, working on some new FREE vampire short stories and poems. It’s kind of nice to work on different stuff than a book for a change, but I can already feel that “itch” and am keeping my eyes open for the next book idea.
Bec: What’s your favorite color?
Russ: Tan. (I don’t get out much.)
Bec: Chocolate chip cookies or brownies?
Russ: Sorry, I’m a pop tart man!
Bec: Do you like to listen to music while you write or have complete silence?
Russ: I listen to light jazz Christmas music while I write, which is as close as you can come to complete silence.
Bec: If you could walk on the ceiling once where would you want to do it at?
Russ: I’m a big West Wing fan, so I’d have to say the White House. Either that, or George Clooney’s place on Lake Cuomo or whatever; that could be fun. Yeah, sorry Barack; let’s go with that one.
Bec: What genres do you most like to read/write?
Russ: If I’m reaching for a book to read for pleasure, it’s either a straight forward, hardboiled crime/detective novel ala Michael Connelly or Jonathan Kellerman or a quirky YA supernatural like Fat Vampire.
Bec: Do you find writing a lonely profession?
Russ: Yeah, but I’m a loner anyway. I honestly don’t mind it and, frankly, can’t really write in public or jointly or even pretty much in the same room with another human.
Bec: If you were trapped in your car with a wild boar, what would you do?
Russ: Die, slowly and miserably. Zombie writer or no, I have zero survival skills; zero.
Bec: What would you share with a beginning writer?
Russ: Just keep writing, period. Don’t let rejection stop you, the odds stop you, more rejection stop you, the advice of friends or family or even professionals. Writers write; it’s what we do.
Bec: What do you wish someone would have told you when you first started your writing journey?
Russ: See above answer, seriously. I finally confessed to the head of my English department that I wanted to be a writer and he told me, no joke, to “get a job.” I understand now what he meant; writing is hard to make a living at but, still. That’s what everybody says and if you can’t tell someone to follow their dream in college, when can you tell them?
Bec: What would you be willing to do to the leprachan to get his pot of gold?
Russ: What “do”? I thought you just found the end of the rainbow and that’s that; that I’ll do, nothing more! (I’m more of a silver man myself, anyway…)
Bec: Do you think having other writers as friend is a good thing for your growth as a writer?
Russ: I honestly haven’t had a ton of other writer friends until I got on Facebook and Twitter, but now I can definitely say that interacting with writers – authors, bloggers, reviewers, whatever – is totally essential for a working writer. Yes, writing is solitary and I’m fine with all that, but when you get a bad review or have a publishing question or just want to vent or laugh at one of those demotivational posters on Facebook, it really helps to have support. I’ve learned and shared so much this past year simply because of the connections I’ve made through social media.
Bec: What’s your favorite book? Why?
Russ: My favorite book is Angela’s Ashes by Frank McCourt. There’s a scene in it where he writes about eating fish and chips rolled in newspaper that literally made me taste the salt and grease and I’ve never forgotten it. It’s more than just that once scene, of course; all the scenes are like that. Plus he didn’t publish until he was in his later years and, at this pace, that’s a real inspiration to me.
Bec: Where is your favorite place to hide?
Russ: Back row, left corner, feet up in the movie theater; always, every time.
Bec: Who’s your favorite author? Why?
Russ: Stephen King, period. I may not read every book he’s written over the years, but I’ll never forget his impact on me as a young writer, what I felt like – the epic excitement I felt – when I read the Stand and every time I *do* pick up a new book by the King, I’m sucked in easily and quickly.
Bec: Is there anything you would like to share that I haven’t asked you about?
Russ: I’m a Capricorn; that explains a lot.
Bec: Thank you for stopping by and sharing! Best of luck with your book and future project!
Russ: Thank you for having me!
©Rebecca Besser & Rusty Fischer, 2012. All rights reserved.
The Truth — Editing IS Important
After reading this article:
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/01/30/indie-authors-struggle_n_1242935.html
I find that there’s a lot of truth in what it said. As many of you may or may not know, I’m not only a writer, but an editor as well. I’ve mostly edited anthologies for various small presses. I can tell you, straight up, that yes writers need to learn to edit better. Maybe that’s why I cringe so much over self-publishing, because I know that most all authors have no idea how to use basic grammar and punctuation! The biggest area where most writers are lacking is punc in dialogue, and this is something you can learn from reading and paying attention.
Being an editor can in itself be a nightmare because of the authors who resist even the slightest change.
I’m going to share two of my recent editing experiences with you, but I’m not going to name names.
I was asked by a small press to edit a single author collection recently. It was okay, but overall I wasn’t impressed with the author’s collection. I did my best to make it better — something that can be done by simple editing — but the author fought me the entire way, as did the press. Apparently things like consistency, pacing, and accurate research didn’t matter to either of them. Still, I barreled on, letting them have their way. Hell, as long as they were happy, right? I finished the project, sent it in and thought we were done. Then they went behind my back and reedited the book without telling me. I was really mad at first, but now, looking back a couple months later, I’m glad my name isn’t on it.
Flip side.
At the same time I was editing the collection, I was editing a novel for someone who gave me permission to change anything I wanted. I had fun with this project, and once I sent it back to the author, they were told (when they submitted it) that it was the best edited manuscripts they’d ever had submitted. Needless to say, this author wants me to work with them on future projects.
Granted, no, I’m not perfect. No editor is and you will find mistakes in every book you read; it’s just a matter of you knowing they’re mistakes. Most basic readers won’t notice some of the smaller mistakes in punctuation, because they themselves don’t know the rules, but the stronger readers do know, and they’re the ones giving the reviews. They’re the ones willing to spend money to buy your book.
I think that one of the reasons the ‘free ebooks’ are good for self-published writers in that the consumer won’t really complain about it not being perfect, because, after all, they’re not out anything other than reading time and they might think your story was cute. This leaves the door wide open for anyone — who can string words into something that looks like a sentence — a place in the publishing world. It’s not a grand place, but they feel good because they can tell everyone they have a book out. I can promise you though, they aren’t going to be raving about your book to their friends or anything. You aren’t going to get a fan base or a following unless you put some effort into it.
If you want to actually do something with your writing, you have to take it serious before anyone else will. You have to learn plot, characterization, pacing, consistency, punctuation:EDITING. Or, you’re going to have to get someone to do it for you, and let them do it. You’re going to have to shell out some cash to get your book professionally edited.
Warning, though, this can be a trap too. Some editors aren’t that much better at editing than the self-publishing grammar slobs (not all of them are, some do know what they’re doing, but it’s a select few). You should read something edited by the person you want to have edit your stuff, or at least ask for a sample or references.
With me also being a writer, most people who ask me to edit for them have read my stuff. But, if possible, I still give them a reference.
A sample can be very simple. Ask them to edit a paragraph up to a page of your manuscript — I mean, if you’re going to shell out up to $800 for a professional edit (yes, it could be that much), you want to know you’re going to be happy with the product you’re getting back, right?
Another quick editing experience I had once… A press I was working with asked me to proof read a book one of their authors had paid someone to edit for them. OMG, it was a mess. Their run on sentences were out of control and I had to insert commas everywhere, and spelling inconsistencies, wrong words, plot holes, etc, were rampant. I could not believe this book had ever been edited. Shouldn’t an editor know the difference between isle and aisle? *groan*
It’s not easy editing, and that’s why all of us hate it so much. But if it’s done right, editing can make your book shine and make you look good!
So, either take the time to learn what you need to know to make your work better, or find someone who can help you. Because if you want to be taken serious as an author, you have to first take your work serious and put your best manuscript forward.
©Rebecca Besser, 2012. All rights reserved.
Interview with Author Adam Millard
Bec: Welcome to my blog, please start out by sharing a little bit about yourself -
I’m an author of mainly horror and dark fantasy. I currently have nine novels available, and my short stories can be found in anthologies across the world. I’m father to a nine month-old son, which is a lot more difficult than anything else I’ve tried my hand at. I’m currently working on a device that can mute nine month-old babies without causing lasting damage to their motor-functions.
Bec: What first got you interested in writing?
I started writing at a very early age. I was really into Richard Laymon and Shaun Hutson, and by thirteen I had read everything my local library had to offer by both authors. Stephen King was a massive influence; I read The Stand, which I think was the book that made me want to start writing. I was hooked on books by Whitley Strieber and James Herbert when I decided to sit down and give it a go, myself. I had an old typewriter and would just clack away for hours, creating these mini space-operas. I wish I still had those, now. It would be interesting, to say the least.
Bec: What are the worst struggles you think writers face, writing and marketing?
Certainly the Kindle has made a massive difference to the publishing industry; things are a lot easier, now. I think the main struggle is selling a book once it’s released. You’ve done all of the hard work, you’ve spent six months, a year, whatever, getting your manuscript up to scratch, and you’ve formatted and released it as an eBook. Why isn’t anybody reading it? It’s magnificent, better than half of the shit on the NYT Bestseller list, and yet it has ended up at propping up the charts. The main struggle, I think, is getting people to initially take a chance on an unknown author. Marketing is hard work, harder than writing the book in the first place.
Bec: Tell us about your book/s -
The books I am probably best known for are my zombie series. Dead West, Dead Cells, and the soon-to-be-released Dead Frost, are post-apocalyptic zombie novels, each with their own twist. I have a collection of macabre stories, Chasing Nightmares, a brutal re-imagining of a Charles Dickens classic – Olly, and a YA comedy-horror called Peter Crombie, Teenage Zombie. My first book to be published, Only In Whispers, is getting a re-release later on this year, and my comedy-fantasy books, The Ballad Of Dax and Yendyll and Grimwald The Great, are being released as an hardcover omnibus.
Bec: Are you working on a sequel/s?
I’m working on the fourth and fifth books in my Dead series, and a sequel to Peter Crombie, Teenage Zombie is also on the cards.
Bec: What other projects are you working on or involved with?
I have a lot of stuff coming out this year through various publishers. I’m currently working with Chris Taggart, my illustrator, on a one-shot comic of Dead Cells, which should be out in time for Christmas.
Bec: If you were the last man on Earth and there were twenty women, how would you handle the situation?
Not well. I think I’ve had this dream, and if I recall it ended very badly. Twenty women? That’s a lot for any man to have to try to deal with. Do I have a weapon?
Bec: What’s your favorite color?
Purple, or black. No purple…erm, I don’t have one. Anything darker than my soul.
Bec: Do you like to listen to music while you write or have complete silence?
I sometimes write in complete silence, and other times I have to listen to the most ear-grinding death-metal I can get my hands on. If I’m writing a particularly nasty scene, I think the music helps.
Bec: If you had to wear bright pink spandex or blazen orange polyester short suit to go on TV, which would you wear?
Pink Spandex, every time. I think a certain element of eccentricity can be expected from an author. I’d probably wear a top-hat with it, and carry an umbrella.
Bec: What genres do you most like to read/write?
I read everything I can get my hands on. Horror, Sci-fi, Fantasy, anything except romance. I can’t be doing with all that nonsense. I’m rereading the classics at the moment: Jeckyll And Hyde, The Picture of Dorian Gray, 1984, The Martian Chronicles. I haven’t read The Stand yet this year, which is very strange, indeed.
Bec: Do you find writing a lonely profession?
I think that it has to be. In order to tell your story – and that’s what it is; your story – you have to fully submerse yourself in it. There is no other way to do it. Often, my wife doesn’t even know what I’m working on. I’ll tell her a few months down the line that a story has been picked up, and she’ll say something like, “That sounds like a great story. Why didn’t you tell me about it?” The fact is, we work alone, we think too much, and we’re brooding. I’m just glad I quit drinking when I did.
Bec: Gum or breath mint?
Gum. Breath mints are dangerous if you don’t approach them with the caution they deserve. Always read the instructions, and never attempt more than one at a time.
Bec: What would you share with a beginning writer?
Learn to deal with rejection. If you cry at the sight of negative feedback, then choose another profession.
Bec: What do you wish someone would have told you when you first started your writing journey?
See above. I cry a lot, but I’m stubborn.
Bec: Fuzzy critter or feathered friend?
Fuzzy critter. I have two rabbits and a cat. I inherited the cat, and can’t say I’m a massive fan as it is a minion of Satan, but I love the rabbits. I’m hugely into owls, though. I’d love an owl, just sitting in the corner watching me work. My wife won’t let me get one, though, because you have to feed them mice, and she’s against all forms of animal cruelty, even if they are frozen.
Bec: Do you think having other writers as friends is a good thing for your growth as a writer?
It is massively important to surround yourself with like-minded people. Writers are apt to go crazy if left alone for too long. There comes a point where you have to stop writing and network, and the best way to do that is through social sites such as Facebook or Twitter. You will find critics, editors, reviewers and readers all through networking, so I would say get to know as many writers as possible. If nothing else, at least you’ll have somebody to cry with when the rejections start to roll in.
Bec: Take out the trash or do the dishes?
Trash. It takes twenty seconds, maybe less. I’m all about the maths. By the time you get back into the house, the sink would still be filling up. Though, I do both. My wife thinks that being a writer means that I don’t actually work, not in the conventional sense, and so I do everything around the house, including nappies, bottles, baking, and occasionally a bit of writing.
Bec: What’s your favorite book? Why?
For me, it has to be The Stand. It’s just magnificent; a tale of Good Vs Evil. I find myself drawn to both sides every time I read it, which is why I urge everyone to pick it up.
Bec: Who’s your favorite author? Why?
Stephen King, purely because I wouldn’t be a writer today if I hadn’t read everything he’s ever put out. It’s a close call, though, as Terry Pratchett is also a major influence.
Bec: Is there anything you would like to share that I haven’t asked you about?
Yeah. My wife likes Twilight. That is all.
Bec: Thank you for stopping by and sharing! Best of luck with your book and future project!
©Rebecca Besser & Adam Millard, 2012. All rights reserved.
June 12, 2014
Book Nerd Parties – Why Not?
I, at some point, responded: “It’s how book nerds party.” And that gave me a lovely idea for a new “book nerd” type party.
Why don’t us limited-social people (don’t want to say anti-social, because book people really aren’t, we’re just super selective) who love books, invite over their other “book nerd” friends, and read together while drinking?
I envision a group of people sitting quietly in a room, all super comfortable and drinking, reading books. Wouldn’t that be just divine?
You don’t even have to be reading the same books.
Yes, you could say this has been done with libraries and coffee shops, but they don’t allow alcohol. Besides, an invite only thing with your friends is way more appealing than tolerating random, rude strangers.
Hell, you could even schedule breaks, where you each talk about the book you’re reading and have intelligent discussions, if you wanted. It would ultimately depend on the group and their desires for interaction, or no interaction that interrupts their reading. At the very least, everyone could share about their books before they headed home. Imagine how many new books and genres you could awaken your friends to? Or be awakened to yourself? You could swap out books when you’ve both finished! This could even be a great new spin on book club groups! Who knows! It’s like a “nerd book mixer!” For fun, you could throw a box of random books in the middle of the room and everyone has to pick one out and read it until it's over!
Anyway, I thought it would be fun and wanted to share the idea with you.
Who knows, I might have a reading/drinking party sometime in the future…if I can find enough locals who actually read. UGH!
©Rebecca Besser, 2014. All rights reserved.
June 11, 2014
To Walk the Halls by Rebecca Besser - A Hospital Zombie Story
**This story originally appeared in Code Z: An Undead Hospital Anthology. **
TO WALK THE HALLS
By Rebecca Besser
Cameron Gather lay on a narrow bed in a little room off the main emergency room ward at Saint Helen’s Hospital, absently rubbing her bulging stomach, waiting for the doctor to examine her. She stared up at the ceiling, breathing slowly like they’d taught her to in her birthing classes; focusing on the florescent bulb – which was blinking slightly – kept her mind off of the fact that she was in labor a month early. Fear raged in her mind every time she heard a sound outside the closed door and her concentration slipped. It had already been a long night and she was tired, and she knew there was more stress to come.
The door clicked open and Cameron jumped and turned to see her husband, Joe, entering the room holding papers and tucking his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans; he looked at her and smiled.
“All set,” he said, pulling the utilitarian plastic chair from the corner closer to the bed and his wife’s side. “Has the doctor been in yet?”
She shook her head no and tears sprang to her eyes. Turning her head, she again focused on the ceiling and the light.
He laid the papers on the floor between his feet, took her free hand in one of his, and placed his other hand on her stomach, rubbing gently.
“Everything’s going to be okay, honey,” Joe said, trying to be reassuring, but he was scared too. His heart was racing, his thoughts were jumbled, and he felt helpless. The fear of losing the woman he loved and/or their child made him want to fall on his knees and cry, while simultaneously he wanted to punch both his fists through the wall and scream at the top of his lungs.
They stayed this way for many long minutes, each lost in their own thoughts, afraid to voice them and jinx the situation. Hollering, ranting, and swearing could be heard through the closed door. The ER was flooded with people seeking various types of medical attention, but they’d been placed in a secluded room to try and keep Cameron calm while they waited for a doctor to decide what was going on with her pregnancy and their unborn child.
The door clicked open and Cameron and Joe jumped, their attention immediately going to the door; the raised volume of the commotion beyond the opening shocked them. A man in a white lab coat and blue-green scrubs walked through the door holding a chart. He was middle aged, slightly overweight, and starting to go bald. He glanced up at the couple and let the door go shut on its own behind him; none of them noticed that it hadn’t latched.
“I’m Dr. Limon, and I’ll be taking care of you tonight. You’re doctor, Dr....er...Fontana, is on vacation for a couple of days and I’m covering his patients while he’s away. Luckily, I was upstairs checking on a woman in active labor, so here I am. It says here you’ve been having contraction. Is that right, Mrs. Gather?” he asked, stepping up beside her and smiling down into her troubled face.
She nodded and bite her lip, still caressing her stomach.
“Have you been timing them?” Dr. Limon asked, looking back at the chart he held.
“They were ten minutes apart,” Joe said after clearing his throat. “But she said they were bad, and it’s too soon, so we thought it best to come and get everything checked out.”
“You did the right thing,” the doctor said, and smiled at the couple. “We’ll make sure everything’s okay. You’re far enough along that the baby has a good chance even if you’re in pre-term labor, so I don’t want you two to worry, all right?”
The couple smiled, nodded, and took a deep breath in unison; everything was going to be fine after all.
After a brief examination the doctor decided they would keep Cameron overnight for observation as she was still having severe, but erratic cramps. He was standing at the counter writing his instructions on her chart when the door to the small room flew open and a man came stumbling in. Blood covered the man from head to toe and he slipped a little on the smooth tile floor when some dripped off of his face and clothing to land beneath his feet as he advanced forward. Everyone in the room looked up when he entered, but they were rendered speechless and immobile for a moment with shock.
The man made it to the foot of the bed Cameron lay upon and swiftly bent down and bit into her ankle.
She screamed.
“Get off my wife, you fucker!” Joe screamed, and jumped up – almost slipping and falling on the papers at his feet. He punched the man in the head, sending him reeling backwards into the doctor when he released Cameron’s ankle.
Dr. Limon lost his footing on the blood slick floor, fell back against the counter, and managed to stay standing by grabbing onto the slightly open door’s handle. With difficulty, he remained standing, but barely.
The man moaned, turned, and bit at the doctor, catching his hand between his teeth as the medical professional tried to defend himself.
An ambulance team came rushing in and tackled the strange, biting man, slamming him into the far wall.
“What the hell is going on?” Dr. Limon yelled over the din. “That man just bit a pregnant woman and me!”
“Sorry,” one of the ambulance workers huffed out. “We just picked this guy up and don’t know what’s going on with him yet. Someone saw him stumbling down the street and called 9-1-1. We picked him up and he was fine. On the way here he flat lined and then came back – all on his own. He became more aggressive after that and we’ve been having trouble subduing him.”
“Well, get him out of here!” Dr. Limon yelled, holding his hand and applying pressure to the wound. “Now I have to do a blood work up on this poor woman because of your incompetence! If I find anything, I’ll have you both under review! Is that understood?”
The team nodded and they dragged the deranged man out the door and back into the hall where his moans and groans blended in with all the others.
Joe was leaning over Cameron, who was now sobbing uncontrollably, scared that the man had infected her somehow, especially being covered in blood.
“I’m terribly sorry about that,” Dr. Limon said, rushing forward. “Don’t you fret about anything. I’ll have someone look at the ankle and do a full blood panel, and make sure you’re all right.” He held up his hand and half-grinned, trying to make light of the situation and calm the couple down. “Heck, I’ll be doing one on myself too. We’re in the same boat here.”
Joe just looked at the doctor, but Cameron giggled a little through her tears, grasping at anything that would take her mind off her fears.
“I’ll get a nurse in here stat to bandage you,” he said, heading for the door. “I can’t do it because of my damn hand.”
Minutes later a nurse rushed in looking frazzled and worn down.
“I’m here to take care of your ankle,” she said with a friendly smile. “Then we’ll take you up to maternity and away from this madhouse.”
Without much chitchat, since no one was in the mood, she bandaged the ankle and prepared the bed and Cameron for her move upstairs.
Joe was hoping they would see the asshole that bit his wife in the hall, because he planned on punching him again, but had no such luck. The nurse took them down a hall away from the ER and the other patients.
The elevator ride was uneventful. The only sound was the hum of the machinery and the nurse talking quietly to Cameron, talking about her experiences with pregnancy and asking about baby names. The focus on the positive seemed to help and soon Cameron’s tears dried up and she was smiling a little, which pleased him and made him forget about the crazy man downstairs.
The maternity ward was quiet and continued to bring calm to the couple as Cameron was helped into a hospital gown and hooked up to a device to monitor the baby and her contractions.
“Try to get some sleep after your blood is drawn,” the nurse said to Cameron with a smile. “You’ll need all your strength to have that baby, if he does decide he wants to be born early.”
Cameron laughed, and Joe smiled genuinely for the first time since they’d arrived at the hospital upon hearing the happy sound.
“I will,” Cameron said, and laid her head back and closed her eyes as the nurse left the room.
Joe stepped over and took his wife’s hand.
She opened her eyes and smiled up at him, squeezing reassuringly before closing her eyes again.
A short time later, a young woman with a tray of empty glass vials came in and drew blood from Cameron’s arm. She’d been half-asleep and it didn’t take her long to fall completely into slumber when the woman was done.
Noticing that Cameron was resting peacefully, Joe sat in the semi-comfortable chair provided for fathers, beside the bed, and soon fell asleep as well; stress and the events of the evening had drained his energy.
* * *
An hour later. . .
“Dr. Limon?” Nurse Dalton asked as he came out of the delivery room one, where a woman was almost ready to deliver her baby. “Are you okay? You look like you don’t feel well. . .”
He shook his head and strained to focus on the woman. “I’m a little dizzy. I’m going to go lay down in the doctor’s lounge. Let me know when Mrs. Straight is ready to have the baby. From the looks of things, it might be a half hour or so.”
“Okay,” she said, frowning as he flexed his injured hand that was encased in a bandage and a latex glove. “Is your hand bothering you? Do you want me to get you something for the pain?”
“No,” he said, smiling gently at her concern. “I’m all right. I think I just need rest.”
Nurse Dalton nodded. “Get some sleep. I’ll page you if anything changes.”
He nodded and trudged off down the hall. Once he knew no one was watching, he shuffled close to the wall and held on to the railing attached halfway up for patients who had trouble walking and let it guide him. Truth be told, he felt like crap. He was seeing double and was having a hard time staying on his feet. Upon entering the doctor’s lounge, he stumbled and fell face down on the floor. His breathing slowed and his heart stuttered to a stop.
* * *
Joe awoke to the sound of deep moans coming from his wife. She was thrashing around on the bed, tottering like she was trying to get up but couldn’t; the front of her gown was soaked in blood.
“Honey!” he exclaimed, jumping up out of the chair. “Calm down! You’re gonna fall and hurt yourself or the baby!”
He reached toward the bed to hit the button that would call the nurse. Not wanting to excite or scare Cameron, he didn’t mention the blood that seemed to be running freely from her body. His hand shook and he fumbled to find the button he needed to press for assistance.
She froze at the sound of his voice and her head whipped around to look at him. Cameron hissed and snapped her teeth close to his hand, trying to bite it; he snatched it back just in time, but before he was able to find and press the nurse button.
In the dim light of the room he could see the menacing snarl on her face and the vacant look in her eyes. But that wasn’t what made his blood run cold or caused the lump of fear to rise and block his throat. The front of her hospital gown tore open while he watched and a small hand with sharp claws pried at the opening, making it larger.
“What the fuck?!” he screamed and backed away slowly, shaking his head, hoping he was having a nightmare and none of this was real.
Cameron hissed again and tried with renewed effort to get out of the bed, finally toppling to the floor on the far side of the room. Moments after she fell, Joe heard a wet plop as their child or whatever the hell the thing was now, wiggled its way free of its host’s body. The stench of the amniotic fluid permeated the air as it spilled across the linoleum with a gush.
Joe covered his nose and gagged, flinching away as his wife stood and came stumbling around the bed with her arms outstretched and her jaw falling open and snapping shut with eager anticipation of her upcoming meal. Her fingers were curled into sharp-tipped claws, ready to sink into his flesh and tear him apart. Stepping back out of her reach, his foot bumped the leg of the chair he’d been sleeping in only moments ago, and fell, sprawling onto the hard floor.
She groaned and licked her parched lips, but just as she was about to reach him, the umbilical cord, still attached to the child, got caught on the corner of the bed and she slipped on the wet flooring, going down on her face with a loud smack; she screeched angrily because she couldn’t reach her prize. Desperately, she clawed in front of herself and kicked her feet, looking like a swimmer stuck on dry land, going nowhere. Every time she tried to get up onto her knees, and then to stand, she slipped in the thick fluid covering the floor and fell again, angering herself even more.
Joe watched her in shock. His brain struggled to understand what had happened to the woman he’d been married to for years. He was still trying to wrap his mind around what she’d become when a movement under the bed caught his attention. Little eyes peered out at him as a mutant looking baby struggled to crawl toward him. It hissed and whined when it too became stuck on the umbilical cord attached to its stomach. With a growl of frustration, it flipped onto its back, kicked its legs and grabbed a hold of the cord, pulled it up to its mouth, and chewed violently at it. Blood shot into the air, bathing the bottom of the bed in dark, red fluid.
“Oh, God. . . Oh, God. . . Oh, God. . .” Joe whimpered repeatedly as he began to crying, finally realizing he wasn’t sleeping and everything was real; his wife and child had turned into blood thirsty monsters.
The baby, finally lose from the cord, half-crawled, half-flopped across the floor toward him. Its eyes seemed to glow in the dark; they were trained on Joe like a predator on its unsuspecting prey. Blood dripped from its mouth and teeth – teeth that looked like they’d be at home in the mouth of a large canine – to cover its hands and leave little prints in its wake on the floor, leaving a trail.
Joe shook his head, sobbing uncontrollably as his newborn son and his wife, who’d finally managed to scoot a couple of feet forward, reached him simultaneously, biting into his flesh, tearing at it with their teeth until he went silent, died, and awoke as one of them.
* * *
Meanwhile, in the doctor’s lounge. . .
Nurse Dalton stepped inside the lounge to find Dr. Limon passed out on the floor; she shook him and he responded with a groan. Content that he was awake, she said, “It’s time!” and dashed out into the hall and back to delivery room one, where Mrs. Straight was having her baby.
Sniffing loudly, he rose to his knees and used a nearby chair to lever himself to his feet. Moaning, he followed the warm blooded woman who’d just been in the room. He slapped at the door handle repeatedly until he managed to open the portal. He went out into the hall beyond and purred as her scent grew stronger. Shuffling down the hallway, he soon found his way to the delivery room.
“Good, you’re here,” Nurse Dalton said, barely looking up from the pregnant woman who was panting, laying on the bed the nurse was converting into a delivery table.
Not paying attention, he stumbled and almost fell – his butt accidently landing on the rolling stool he normally sat on to deliver babies. It skidded across the floor until he was sitting between the pregnant woman’s legs. He groaned and leaned forward, breathing deeply of the fresh blood right in front of him.
“The doctor’s here,” Nurse Dalton said, “you can push now.”
A contraction hit and the woman pushed. The child slid out of her birth canal and into the waiting arms of the undead doctor. Pleased with his present, he took a bite. The baby screamed in pain, but the wail didn’t last long as Dr. Limon consumed its tender flesh.
The woman screamed, as did the nurse who fled the room to the nurse’s station, calling for security in the ER. The phone rang and rang, but there was no answer.
Panicking, Nurse Dalton didn’t know what to do. She slammed down the phone and spun in a circle. Through the open doorway she could see that Dr. Limon had finished consuming the baby and was now going to work in the woman lying in the bed; her screams echoed down the quiet halls before coming to an abrupt end.
Down the corridor, Nurse Dalton eyes caught movement. Looking more closely, she witnessed a family come stumbling out of the other occupied labor room, the one where the woman was under observation for the night. Blood covered both of the adults – one of which was carrying a small, wiggling bundle.
She watched as they stumbled down the hall toward her. Unsure of what to do, she glanced back at the doorway leading to where Dr. Limon had unleashed his hunger in an array of carnage. He stood in the doorway panting; the woman stood right behind him, having risen to walk the halls in search of new victims as well.
Thinking fast, Nurse Dalton thought about the quickest escape routes she could take. Spinning on her heel, she darted around the nurse’s station desk and headed down the far hallway. She knew it was the long way to the elevator, but it was the only way she could go without handing herself over to the walking dead. Moans and the slow slap of wet footfalls on the linoleum tiles alerted her to the fact that she was being pursued.
Increasing her pace, she ran along the corridor and slid sideways, and almost tumbled, when she tried to stop in front of the elevators. Pressing the little round button with a “down” arrow, she shifted her weight from foot to foot, swaying uneasily while she waited. Nervously she glanced around her, hearing the monsters advancing closer. Fleetingly she thought about taking the stairs, thinking it would be faster than waiting for the elevator to arrive, but Dr. Limon and Mrs. Straight stumbled around the corner and blocked the hallway that would give her the quickest access to the stairwell. A thump sounded from close behind her and Nurse Dalton spun around and found the husband and wife from the observation room standing less than ten feet away. The noise, which had alerted her to the presence, had been the sound of the small, wiggling bundle being dropped to the floor; her eyes were drawn to it and her mouth fell open in a shocked gasp when she saw the baby who’d been loosely wrapped in a pillowcase.
The baby monster grinned up at her and Nurse Dalton whimpered and shuddered at the sight. The infant had dangerously pointed teeth, which were still stained with blood; it slowly half-crawled, half-flopped toward her.
She backed up, forgetting the duo to her right, who were still advancing toward her; the cool metal elevator door brought her to an abrupt stop. Shaking like a leaf, she shook her head and covered her mouth with her hand to muffle the sob that rose into her throat. Never in her life had she seen such a horror, such an abomination, as the mutant baby. She could tell it wasn’t like the adults; its skin was pristine and hadn’t been marred by bites or any other injury she could see.
All of the creatures were closing in on her, but she was still in a state of shock and was fixated on the strange, ferocious child. Innocence lurked in its eyes, but somewhere deep down she knew the innocence was being used as a ruse, a ploy, to trick her into thinking it wasn’t dangerous, that it wasn’t going to end her life.
Suddenly the elevator dinged and the doors slid open; Nurse Dalton fell backwards into the small, transportation box.
“What the. . .?” a man said as she practically fell into his arms as he tried to dart out; her falling body halted him.
She screamed as his hands gripped her, trying to keep they both on their feet. Spinning, she came face to face with a man who looked to be in his mid-thirties. Instantly she realized he wasn’t one of them.
Moaning and hissing in frustration over their main course suddenly escaping their grasp just as they’d reached her, the undead and abomination baby struggled to close the new gap of a couple extra feet to regain their advantage.
“Excuse me,” the man said, moving to step out of the elevator and into the corridor, “I need to find. . .” He froze at the site of the bloody, walking, growling crowd around the door. “. . .my wife.” The man finished speaking in an almost whisper, his eyes falling on Mrs. Straight, his wife. “Shit.”
Nurse Dalton grabbed the man who seemed to be paralyzed in the doorway and yanked him back just as his wife was about to sink her claws into him. She pressed the “close doors” button and stepped back, beyond the reach of the arms that came darting through the gap of the closing elevator doors.
The man, seeming to suddenly snap out of the shock of finding his wife a blood thirsty mess, punched and kicked at the limbs reaching for them, clearing the gap so that the doors would shut and ensure them a measure of safety. Once they were closed he leaned against the back wall, crossed his arms, but lifted one of his hands up to pinch the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. Expelling his breath in a long, low whoosh, he stayed that way for many tense moments, only moving when Nurse Dalton reached forward to press the button to go down to the ER. His arm shot out and his large, strong hand closed almost painfully around her wrist.
“No,” he growled.
“Look, we have to get down to the security desk, in the ER,” she snapped, tugging her arms away roughly. She didn’t think he would let go at first, but finally he released her.
“No,” he said again, watching her with a dazed expression on his face.
“Why not?” she asked, reaching forward, again, to press the button.
“I said no, damn it!” he roared, and grabbed her wrist again, but not as tightly as before.
“Why the hell not?” she screamed back with tears running down her face – the fear, adrenaline, and confusion in her system finally overcoming her composure.
“Because I just came from down there and it was far worse than what you just escaped up here!” he hollered, clenching his fists at his sides.
“Oh,” Nurse Dalton whispered. “We can’t go down then. . .” She frowned, crossed her arms, and leaned back into the corner of the elevator, swiping at the tears running down her face with the back of her shaking hand.
“I guess we go up and hope for the best,” he said flatly, reaching forward and pressing the button for the top floor; the elevator jerked as it started in the direction it had been commanded to go.
She nodded and closed her eyes, fighting a battle within herself for control. All she really wanted to do was sit down and cry. The senseless agony being caused for no reason tore at her soul. She’d seen years of suffering, being a nurse, and the only disease she could compare the events to was cancer. A ravenous disease that wanted to eat the good and turn it into the bad until the cells grew and killed the host. It caused suffering to people of all ages and wasted them away. What she was dealing with – what was around her – was the cancer of an outside nature, external to the body of life itself. It was death that sought the living, darkness more than willing to snuff out light. She groaned and sobbed, knowing that everything they could do would be futile. The disease, the death, was out of control. The face of the mutant baby swam before her tear filled eyes – a torturous memory forever imprinted on her brain – giving a gruesome face to everything about this evil, this plague.
In her distressed, thought filled state, she didn’t hear the man speaking to her, until he gently gripped her shoulder. She jumped and swung her arms up to protect herself.
“Calm down,” he said soothingly, “I’m not going to hurt you.” He stopped and swallowed a couple of times. “I just need to know. . .” He paused, looked up at the ceiling, swallowed hard again, and looked back at Nurse Dalton with determination. “I need to know what happened to my wife.” His voice cracked with grief on the word “wife” as tears fell from his eyes and his jaw clenched. “What happened to our baby?”
Nurse Dalton took deep breaths and tried to focus on the man in front of her. Images of the baby sliding out of Mrs. Straight and into the arms of the undead Dr. Limon, flashed through her brain: the baby’s scream of pain and the abrupt halt to the sound of new life; the scream of the mother as she watched her child die; and the blood chilling sounds of the woman’s death as she too was eaten alive.
“Tell me,” Mr. Straight growled through clenched teeth, gripping both of her shoulders and shaking her. “I need to know!”
She whimpered and twisted, trying to break free of his grasp. “I can’t. . .”
“Yes, you can!” he screamed in her face, spraying her with saliva and tears.
Closing her eyes, she rushed through the facts as fast as she could, only opening them again when she felt Mr. Straight’s hands leave her body.
He slumped down against the far wall, covering his face with both hands; he wept. His body shook and he breathed in great, sobbing gasps as his grief for his lost wife and child overtook him.
The elevator emanated a resounding ding and the doors suddenly slid open to expose them to the top floor of the medical facility; all was quiet beyond the open door.
Nurse Dalton stepped forward, holding her hand against the door to keep it open. Slowly, she stepped out into the hall, careful not to move her hand in case someone or something tried to attack. She didn’t want to be sealed off alone.
“It looks clear,” she said, turning back to the man who had quieted somewhat, taking her eyes off the hallway.
A woman with no face growled and slammed into Nurse Dalton, knocking them both into the elevator.
Mr. Straight jumped up and tried to wrestle the undead woman off of Nurse Dalton; they slammed into the control panel as he did so, and their bodies pressed a couple of buttons for the lower floors.
Screaming, crying, and flailing, Nurse Dalton fought against her attacker as well. The blood thirsty beast roared, clawed, bit, and scratched as they tried to subdue her.
During the struggle they descended many floors where the elevator paused and the doors slid open. Luckily, no one else decided to join the elevator battle, until they reached the ground floor.
The doors opened with yet another ding, alerting all of the creatures milling around in the Emergency Room to turn and watch the struggle within the elevator. With moans, groans, and harsh squeals of glee, the undead descended upon the battling living.
Nurse Dalton saw them coming and wiggled her way over to the control panel. She pressed the “close doors” button, but there were too many bodies pressed between the doors and they were struggling too hard with the faceless woman to defend their small “safe zone.”
Soon they were overwhelmed and the hungry creatures tore the flesh from their bodies, feasting on parts of them while they screamed. Soon, they too, joined the undead to walk the halls. . .
To read another short story (free) by Rebecca Besser, entitled, "Memories," follow this link: http://fictionterrifica.com/Rbesser.html
** Note: "Memories" first appeared in "Tales of Terror and Mayhem: From Deep Within the Box," and is also one of the bonus stories in "Twisted Pathways of Murder & Death" (print edition). **
If you like Rebecca Besser's short fiction, check out her short story collection, "Twisted Pathways of Murder & Death," on Amazon:
Ebook: http://www.amazon.com/Twisted-Pathways-Murder-Rebecca-Besser-ebook/dp/B00E1LPQZS/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1402365360&sr=8-1&keywords=twisted+pathways+rebecca+besser
Paperback (with four bonus stories): http://www.amazon.com/Twisted-Pathways-Murder-Rebecca-Besser/dp/0615858163/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1402365402&sr=8-2&keywords=twisted+pathways+rebecca+besser
Learn more about Fiction Terrifica from the interview I did with Dana Schaff yesterday: http://blog.rebeccabesser.com/2014/06/10/interview-with-fictionterrificacoms-dana-schaff.aspx
©Rebecca Besser, 2011. All rights reserved.
June 10, 2014
Interview with FictionTerrifica.com's Dana Schaff
Dana Schaff
Bec: Tell us a little about yourself:
Dana: I’m just a working stiff who has always dreamed of being a great writer. I grew up in a family of readers and as far back as I can remember I have always loved the written word and the escapism that books provide. I grew up in small town with not a lot to do so a lot time was spent on the weekends watching Creature Feature movies and exploring my father’s extensive collection of books. The old black and white horror movies had a big influence on me and when I discovered a copy of Dracula stashed away on one of the upper shelves of a book case I was overjoyed. I plunged right in. This was my first horror novel. It was an education indeed. I quickly learned that what Hollywood had created was nothing like what was between the covers of Mr. Stoker’s book. It was rich and layered and complex. That was it. I had found a genre that I could—pardon the pun—sink my teeth into. Over the years I began to write, mostly for myself and then for my daughter, but it was just a hobby. Then I decided to step it up. Somewhere I had read that one is not truly a writer until one has received a rejection letter. Very true. So I began writing short stories and submitting them and sure enough—my grammar had much to be desired—I experienced my first rejection. Hooray! This led to a short-lived career as a small press writer of short stories. I still write but not as much as I’d like. I never experienced much commercial success but I keep trying. Since writing my only novel Skull Feeder with my good friend Pam Chillemi-Yeager I have mostly concentrated on other aspects of the publishing life.
Bec: Why did you start FictionTerrifica.com?
Dana: My one and only novel published by Terradan Press was never a commercial success and we never made any money so to speak and I was saddened by this. We had put a lot of time and effort into writing that book and only, in the end, for the satisfaction of writing a book. I was disappointed in the lack of sales. It occurred to me that lots of writers must experience this same feeling. Toiling for weeks, months, years only to make little or nothing from their effort. One of the problems is that the world is now flooded with books of every genre and it’s difficult to reach a wide readership without the help of say a big publishing house. So my idea was to create a site that might in some modest way help writers reach a bigger audience and consequently sell more books thus Fiction Terrifica was born.
Bec: How has Fiction Terrifica been received so far?
Dana: So far so good. We have experienced peaks and valleys in traffic but our Twitter followers have grown as has the number of likes we receive on Facebook. All the authors we have hosted so far seem to be happy about the venture. So we must be doing something right but I know we can do better and we work every day to come up with new strategies to reach more people.
Bec: Are you currently looking for contributors or interview victims?
Dana: We are always looking for authors who would like to submit their stories and gain a little exposure. As I am new to interviewing folks I have stepped timidly into those waters and am learning to be a better interviewer but yes, I am always looking for some new victims.
Bec: Is there anything special want-to-be contributors need to know before they contact you?
Dana: We cater to the horror writers so as long as the writing falls within that genre we will be happy to have a read. That being said, writers of other genres might do well to keep an eye on what we are doing. We plan on running more sites that will cater to other genres. Horror writers are not the only writers out there struggling to make a buck and we know that.
Bec: What’s your favorite genre?
Dana: Horror by far but I don’t limit myself. I love good literature and nothing is more satisfying than reading a well-crafted sentence. I might read Stephen King one day and Hemmingway the next. I contain multitudes. There is no doubt that if faced with a choice: A mainstream novel in one hand and a horror novel in the other, I would set aside the mainstream until I devoured the horror novel. There is just something about horror that gets my blood flowing and my adrenaline pumping.
Bec: What is your favorite part of the publishing industry?
Dana: For me it is the reading of the submissions. I love to read what writers come up with and then also I like when the moment arrives that the work has made it into print or online and available for the world to see. That is exciting.
Bec: What is your least favorite part of the publishing industry?
Dana: That’s a very good question and not one I have given much thought to but, if again I have to choose, I would say it is the submission process with all its guidelines and having to have an agent and it’s all too much like rules and quite frankly I am rule breaker more than a rule follower.
Bec: What do you think would improve an author’s exposure in marketing?
Dana: This is what we are learning at Fiction Terrifica. Promotion is a fulltime job and requires a lot of work. It’s not enough for the indie writer just to get published because there are so many writers out there and with all the small presses and self-publishing it’s easier than ever to get “published.” The writer who wants to have success has to first have something other people want to read. Content is KING. If they have something others want to read the writer would do well to start with the social media outlets such as Facebook and Twitter. Next, every author needs a web page or blog to connect with people. A viable web presence is very important in reaching new readers. Blog tours have become a very good tool for promotion and an important part of any marketing strategy. I am not a fan of banners but creating a banner for one’s book and approaching related websites to place those banners is also a very good idea. Banners are sort of like roadside advertising. Not everyone likes them but they are there for a reason and that’s because they work. Our approach at Fiction Terrifica is to work within a very constrained budget and I think most indie and small press writers are very budget conscious. Hopefully our budget will grow and we can start to purchase ad space on Facebook, Google, and Bing. It’s not expensive but it does require a budget. The bottom line is the author that wants exposure has to do some leg work
Bec: Is there anything you would like to share/talk about that I haven’t asked you about?
Dana: Well, I have to give credit to my partner, Jeremy Horst, who is also our webmaster and without him Fiction Terrifica would not exist. Together we have big plans and our next step is to offer professional website creation at prices that a budget-minded author will find very appealing. We believe that a professionally created website will make a big difference for aspiring writers. Fiction Terrifica is just the first step in what we hope will be a successful venture aimed at helping struggling writers make the most from their hard work.
Bec: Thanks for stopping by and sharing with us, Dana!
Want to know more about Fiction Terrifica? Stop by their website and check them out. My story, “Memories," is in The Crpyt, in case you’re interested. I'll also be a reviewer on the site soon!
http://www.fictionterrifica.com
©Rebecca Besser & Dana Schaff, 2014. All rights reserved.
June 5, 2014
I Know You Think I'm Crazy...But Agents Don't!
Here's a link to some comments made by literary agents on what they expect to see when they Google someone who has queried/submitted to them:
http://thewritelife.com/what-does-a-literary-agent-want-to-see-when-they-google-you/
Some very interesting stuff! They expect to find you online. They want to see that you're active on social media, and they will pass on you if they don't find what they want.
Oh, and they will pass on you if they see you bashing or bad-mouthing anyone and anything in publishing! I think I covered that in various parts of my Professionalism Series.
So, please read this and my Professionalism Series to boost your chances by making your internet presence something to be proud of!
Note: Part 4 of the series was in my May 2014 newsletter, but will appear on my blog in the same category close to July.
June 2, 2014
Jay Wilburn Interview - Summer of Zombie Blog Tour 2014
Summer of Zombie 2014 SPOTLIGHT ON:
Your name:
Jay Wilburn
What is your latest zombie release?
Zombies Believe In You
Quick description of it (no spoilers):
It is a collection of a few longer zombie pieces
including novellas and a few lengthier short stories.
Something unique about it:
The pieces are a bit longer than typically found in a collection. Two of the stories tell of the same event from two entirely different perspectives making the same events mean very different things. A few of the stories are more distant from the “Z Day” apocalypse stories moving into the realms of fantasy and legend.
Links for people to purchase it:
June 15th is the date, so at Hazardous Press’s bookstore would be the perfect link to jump on it and a number of other great works http://www.hazardouspress.com/ … My zombie novel Loose Ends is available there along with some other great zombie anthologies and other unique works.
Your promo links:
http://jaywilburn.com/
Your short Bio:
Jay Wilburn quit teaching after sixteen years to care for the health needs of his younger son and to pursue full-time writing. He lives with his wife and two sons in the coastal swamps of South Carolina. His novels Loose Ends and Time Eaters are available now. He has zombie pieces in the forthcoming Fat Zombie with Permuted Press, Best Horror of the Year volume 5 with editor Ellen Datlow and in More Recent Dead with Prime Books. Follow his many dark thoughts at JayWilburn.com and @AmongTheZombies on Twitter.
* * * * *
The stench of rotting flesh is in the air!
Welcome to the Summer of Zombie Blog Tour 2014,
with 33 of the best zombie authors spreading the disease in the month of June.
Stop by the event page on Facebook so you don't miss an interview,
guest post or teaser…and pick up some great swag as well!
Giveaways galore from most of the authors as well as interaction with them! #SummerZombie
https://www.facebook.com/events/286215754875261/?ref_newsfeed_story_type=regular&source=1
