Chantal Boudreau's Blog, page 24

October Submission Blitz – Heading into NaNo

As I send out the last of my submissions, I’m looking forward to hunkering down and doing some serious writing. It’ll be nice to escape the sea of rejection letters I’m drowning in. Serve me right for thinking I might be able to finally land a pro-rate sale, which is where most of my submissions went for the month. I should know better by now. Not that I won’t delude myself into thinking otherwise a couple of times a year, but toward the end of the month is when reality hits, and I have to suck it up, shrug and direct my attention elsewhere for a while.

Considering the flood of “no”s, I had plenty of fodder for resubmission. It would have been nice to get one acceptance in the mix to remind me there is still hope. Such is life.

I’m sure by the time NaNo is over I’ll be desperate for the break I have planned for December. I’m already tired, and November hasn’t even started.

-Wish me luck.

October Submission Blitz – Scary Scarecrows

Three more days, three more submissions (and two more rejection letters – but it is what it is.) I hadn’t been planning on submitting novels as part of this blitz, but I got a rejection back from Baen for Elements of Genocide and then found out Angry Robot had an open submission window. I really want to find EoG a home – I don’t like having it sit and gather dust on my shelf so I decided to try it out on Angry Robot. That meant writing a two page synopsis, my least favourite submission task. I find tackling the synopsis more difficult that writing and editing the 100,000+ word novel the synopsis covers. But I hunkered down and got it done. Even if I don’t get it published soon, I feel rewarded each time I get someone to read it, whether it ends up rejected or not.

The second novel submission was actually a query in response to a publisher soliciting a novel. This is only the second time I’ve had this happen, so I jumped on it and suggested “Sleep Escapes Us” for review. We’ll see if there’s interest there. I have my fingers crossed.

My third submission was the third resubmission for one of my shorts. Maybe the third time will be the charm.

My horror trope today is scary scarecrows. This trope seems to crop up everywhere. From the classic Pumpkinhead to a myriad of Halloween-themed tales in anthologies and podcasts the scary scarecrow shows its spooky face all over the place. Considering they are designed to frightened, it’s no surprise that they are inherently creepy.

October Submission Blitz – Perverse Puppet

When it rains it pours, and I could have used a rejection umbrella. Four rejections arrived in two days – one from a novel submission back in April. I’ve gotten used to rejection but they were all form rejection letters which is unpleasant. A little bit of feedback goes a long way.

Not that I would ever let that dissuade me. “Zuka’s Misfortune” went out along with a new podcast submission and a story that had been accepted as a result of the last blitz but came back to me when the anthology was cancelled.

Besides, this has been a year of firsts, despite having a surplus of grief. A few more steps towards that goal of good exposure, proper distribution and name recognition. A writer has to make the best of the positive and to shake off the negative. It’s easy to get discouraged in this industry.

My horror trope for today is the perverse puppet. Chucky might come to mind, but he’s more of a doll than a puppet. There are plenty of stories and movies involving ventriloquist dummies, haunted or possessed much like Chucky, who torment the protagonist or who go on a serial killer spree. I think there’s a simple transition here, because most of us find the dummies creepy to begin with.

Four submissions left to go and I have three things available to submit, so I need to work on one last short before NaNo begins. I’ll share this last story idea with you once I’ve figured it out,

Back to writing.

Defining Evil

Reblogged from Guild Of Dreams:

by Chantal Boudreau

In honour of Halloween, I'm doing another blog spot on the importance of the presentation of evil in a tale and of the nature of villains. Writers face a difficult challenge with the initial conceptualization of the antagonist of their tale: how despicable should they make that villain – on a standalone basis as well as relative to their protagonist, who might be walking a blurry grey line – and how exactly do they plan on defining evil?

Read more… 893 more words

October Submission Blitz – Ominous Fog

I sent out “Amnesty” for the third time this blitz, and made more progress on “Zuka’s Misfortune”. Only a few more days to go and then I may take a stab at NaNoWriMo. I have a novel that needs finishing so if I do choose to go for the 50,000 it won’t require a lot of preparation. The question stands as to whether or not I’ll have the drive to make it this year. It wavers from day to day.

A third anthology for the month containing one of my stories was released today. You can find Nightmare Stalkers and Dream Walkers at this link. This comes along with the two earlier releases this month, Dark Moon Digest #13 and Dead North.

Today’s horror trope is an ominous fog. This is an oldie but goodie, a classic trope that dates back to the days of black and white flicks, rolling in to add atmosphere and hide things from view for increased suspense. Some stories and movies have expanded the trope to become the dominant feature in the plot, like in “The Fog” or one of my favourites “The Mist.”

I’m hoping to hear back on a couple more submissions before month’s end – fingers crossed.

October Submission Blitz – Night Swim Equals Death

Three more submissions and the end of the blitz is approaching – only nine more to go. The last three, two reprints to podcasts and another pro rate attempt for “The Elephant’s Graveyard,” were a challenge since I’m down to almost nothing to submit. I’m soooo busy with my day job, blogging is a challenge as well.

…And I’m really tired.

Today’s horror trope is where a night swim equals death. You know the one. As soon as people start wading into the water in the dark, in a horror flick, skinny-dipping or not, at least one of them are doomed. Something is there to eat them, a serial killer is lurking along the water’s edge or somebody drowns (tangled in water weeds perhaps?) All I know is that I cringe whenever someone in a movie suggests one f these swims.

Time for bed *yawn*

October Submission Blitz – Mouth Sewn Shut

Three more submissions out the door: one under my pseudonym, a flash piece I wrote today, “The Candy Man,” and one of my fantasy stories. The next thing to work on will be my Egyptian-themed story involving the Coffin Texts and Anubis. I haven’t settled on a title yet. There are so many great anthology opportunities out there, it was difficult to choose one. If I thought I could handle it, I’d be juggling four or five stories at the moment. I know better – I need to keep focussed.

My horror trope for the day is “mouth sewn shut. ” My best recollections of this trope were from serial killer movies where this was part of how they tortured their victims. In some cases the person kept silent, in others they tore up their lips so they could speak (yuck!) It also makes appearances in supernatural sequences, probably because it is a shocking image so it makes for an easy scare.

Only twelve more submissions to go and I have only two left, so I’m hoping to get word back on at least a couple of my submissions so I can resubmit. I have a lot out there.

October Submission Blitz – Indian Burial Ground

“Laying on Hands” is edited and away, followed by “In Too Deep” – two more submissions for two more days. At the halfway mark, not much has come back so far – I don’t know if that’s good or bad. I gleefully noticed a new posting by Penumbra based on Egyptian myth and I think I want to work on that next after I done my current “to-be-published-under-my-pseudonym” effort. I’ve already had a couple of maybes from them that didn’t pan out, but I’m encouraged to keep trying. I hope I can come up with something as interesting as “Dry Heat” which is no longer on print but will possibly be included in a collection of my short stories May December Publications had been planning.

My horror trope for today should be Native American burial ground, if I were to be political correct, but considering its an older trope, it happens to be pre-PC. Off the top of my head, I can think of two classic examples that include this trope, Pet Sematary and Poltergeist. It has a scary mystical appeal that can be used to explain anything from zombie cats to possessed severed hands, one of those “go-to” options.

Back to working on my current story…

October Submission Blitz – Book Release News

I took a little blog break this holiday weekend, but I did submit three flash fiction pieces so I’m up to 15 submissions for 15 days. I hope to have Laying on Hands ready to go tomorrow. It came in just under 5,000 words, so it won’t require major surgery, but I hope to trim it down somewhat during the editing process as the publisher specified shorter works are preferred. Then I plan on writing something I’ll be submitting under my pseudonym – as a break from the serious before I tackle my next attempt at a pro-pay acceptance.

No horror trope today. Instead, here’s an excerpt from my recently released Prisoners of Fate novel from May December Publications, the third in my Masters and Renegades series now available on Amazon and Smashwords:

When Ebon began casting his first spell, a minor transmutation spell, through Shetland and into a magical buffer that Anna had set up earlier, the dwarf began to glow. His coarse grey hair also started to stand on end. This was the most common reaction Shetland had to any spell not cast directly on him, but, rather, through him. That spell would have no other effect on its own, but introduce an energy-enhancing spell on top of it and infuse it with a dimensional pocket enchantment, and Ebon was convinced that the final effects would be spectacular. It would turn Shetland into a complex magical vacuum, drawing Ebon out of the other dimension in which he was partially suspended, and pulling him fully back into this one. The enchantment-imbued metal, which had mingled with Shetland’s dwarven flesh when he had tumbled into the melting vat as a child, would be drawn to the surface and evaporate, forming a magical cloud of sorts. This cloud would then solidify, sealing the dimensional pocket that would be penetrating both dimensions and allowing Ebon to transfer completely back to this one.

It would have seemed overly complicated to anyone but Ebon, but he had lived this process for years, existing to see it through to fruition. If he had been capable of eating, sleeping and breathing, he would have eaten, slept and breathed this moment since the day he succeeded at the University Admission Trials.

As Ebon initiated the second spell, not only did Shetland now glow with a slightly golden hue, he also began to vibrate in a very subtle way.

“I’m startin’ to feel the pull!” he hollered at Ebon, the noise from the combined spells almost deafening.

Ebon knew exactly what the dwarf meant. The first time he had tried this combination of spells, he had felt the pull as well, just as he was feeling it now. He had stopped the experiment prematurely that time, unsure how to proceed and uncomfortable with the strong tugging sensation within him. The tugging had come from two directions at once, like he was in danger of being split down the middle. Ebon had acknowledged after further studies, that he would not be able to undergo this change without pain. There would be an agonizing tearing sensation, and he would have to endure it if he wanted to succeed. Shetland would likely undergo similar agony, but he was not averse to the idea of pain, if it meant he would finally be a normal dwarf again. The two cohorts steeled themselves as Ebon prepared the third and last spell.

“Yesssssss. Finish it!”

Ebon hesitated. He was unsure where the whispery voice had come from, or how he could possibly hear it above the roar of the other two spells. It was soft, seductive and somehow familiar.

“Whatchya waitin’ for!” yelled Shetland, unable to see Ebon’s look of surprise. Very little could be distinguished on his face, due to his shadowy form.

“One moment!” Ebon called back. “I’m almost ready!”

“Go on…finish it! You know you want to. It’s time. We’ve been waiting for so long…” That voice again. It disturbed Ebon greatly, especially because he felt as though he knew who and where it was coming from, but he could not put that knowledge into coherent concepts. This confusion made it difficult to concentrate, and a lack of concentration made spell-casting a dangerous affair.

“Quit stallin’, ghost!” Shetland bellowed, his vibrating intensifying to the point that flecks of froth were forming on his lips. “Do it already!”

“Shut up! Both of you!” Ebon screeched, his voice becoming a high-pitched whine, intermingled with the rest of the noise. He centred himself, ignoring the chaos and focusing on the buffer beyond Shetland. He started the third spell. A maniacal laugh of triumph reverberated around them. Then it began.

Pain was a very simple way of describing what Ebon felt, and while agony was a more apt description, it was still insufficient. The hurt was greater than any Ebon had ever recalled experiencing, as if he were being torn inside and out, ripping right down his centre. Ebon tried to hold it back, but all of his discipline was not enough to keep a blood-curdling scream from escaping his lips. As he fought the throbbing ache that dug deep into his core, he saw a shape before him, a vague silhouette approaching him with increasing speed. It would reach him in a few seconds, right about the time the spells, the pain, and the process would all come to an end. He braced himself.

Suddenly, there was an abrupt pressure on his back and he was falling forward, tumbling into Shetland. The dwarf had not been expecting the collision and while he normally could have resisted such an impact, he was knocked off his feet as well. They fell together in a heap, at the far end of the room. Everything went quiet.

Ebon lay groaning on the floor, his head muddled and everything sore. He heard Shetland moving, shifting slightly from side to side. Ebon sat up, looking around. What had just happened? He brought his hand to his forehead, rubbing at his temples. There was something odd about the feeling. Both his hand and his forehead seemed slightly “squishy,” not quite right. Then it struck him like a bolt of lightning. He stared down at his hand. His hand.

Ebon blinked, rubbed at his eyes, and then blinked again. Once more, he felt that “squishy” sensation, but the hand was still there. It did not look exactly the way it should. It had a slightly golden sheen to it, and it seemed almost blurred around the edges, but it was there. The hand before him, obviously visible, was his hand.

October Submission Blitz – Headless Horseman

Yesterday and today were both pro-rate submissions , tackling new venues for me. Yesterday was another attempt at placing the bizarre and hard-to-place “On the Tip of her Tongue. ” Today, after getting a nice rejection letter from Writing Backwards that offered positive feedback and invited me to send a different story, I sent off “Amnesty.”

“Laying on Hands” is in its final stretch but I’m worried it will exceed the 5,000 word limit. That being said, I don’t mind making cutting down a story part of the editing process. You can end up with a much cleaner story as a result.

And today’s horror trope is the headless horseman. Most of the examples you seen in stories are either a retelling of, or an homage to, Washington Irving’s supernatural rival for Ichabod Crane in Sleepy Hollow. It is an ominous figure that brings to mind both terrible nightmares and Halloween.

I’m hoping to have “Laying on Hands” ready to go tomorrow – we’ll see.