Stephanie M. Wytovich's Blog, page 9

WRITING FROM MY BUBBLE: A Guest Post from Lee Murray

Hello friends and fiends, 
Today in the Madhouse, I'm sitting down and chatting with one of the most lovely people I've met to date: Lee Murray. Lee is a fellow horror writer and RDSP author, and every time I've had the pleasure to be in her company, I find myself forever smiling and simply being in a state of awe because of her talent, strength, and warmth. As such, I wanted to reach out to her today--from Pittsburgh, PA to New Zealand--to see how she was doing and to chat about how her writing habits and her relationship to art has changed due to the state of the world. 
As always, Lee met my request with light, love, honesty, and grace, and I hope you find her essay as touching as I did. 
Be safe, take care, and we'll speak more soon.Stephanie M. Wytovich

Writing From My Bubbleby Lee Murray
In Aotearoa-New Zealand, we called them bubbles: closed households of two or three people with whom you would protect the vulnerable and see out the apocalypse. Because my husband had just returned from a business trip to the US, three Murrays went into lock-down on 17 March, getting our supermarket stock-up done before the rest of the country followed suit a little over a week later.
in lockdowna fantail flitsoutside
civiliansfired upon at the bordertoilet paper wars
In those first weeks, social isolation felt like business as usual, since my husband and I both work from home anyway. We didn’t need to rush-order new desks, rearrange workspace in a spare room, or commandeer a corner of the kitchen table. No need to order in another reem of paper. Our home internet is 900MBits/sec. We were all set. We simply switched our pre-breakfast gym workouts for longer walks around the neighbourhood with the dog, jumping up on banks or onto dewy grass verges to keep a suitable social distance from any others out walking. Most neighbourhoods have a local bush trail within handy reach, and in a town like Tauranga, there are never too many people on the trails. In the lockdown, the streets and tracks were almost deserted. Birds chattered. Lawn mowers hummed.a creekmeanderingthrough autumn
We certainly weren’t minimising the threat of the pandemic—New Zealand’s numbers were on the upswing with 256 cases recorded on the day the lockdown went into place. The economic fall-out would be brutal, but the lives of New Zealand’s vulnerable were at stake. There was comfort in knowing that our precious family members were safes in their respective bubbles. Our government had a plan. Go early and go hard. We hunkered down and got on with the task of flattening the curve, checking in daily for live updates from Jacinda and Dr Ashley, who provided Kiwis with their daily report card. Strangely, in those early days, my anxious-Piglet self was almost upbeat. We could do this. We simply had to stay the course. rising story arcI’m wonderinghow it endsBut it’s like Steinbeck said, isn’t it?
“It is not good to want a thing too much. It sometimes drives the luck away. You must want it just enough, and you must be very tactful with Gods or the gods.” ― John Steinbeck, The Pearl
I wanted too much. Perhaps my hubris had angered Whiro-te-tipua, the lord of darkness, because on May 29, New Zealand recorded its first death. We had known it would come, and yet inside our bubbles, we were stunned. a cityplague-kissed—and quiet
Days passed and more people died. TV became both torture and distraction. Two billion others watched on, everyone, everywhere consuming stories. Our vocabulary expanded to include words like co-morbidity, immune compromised, and hydroxychloroquine. Acronyms like R95, ICU, and PPE. We studied graphs, Ro ratios, and percentages. We mastered Zoom, Teams, and Facetime.
under siegethe battle ragingmy dog snores
Too numb to write fiction, I resolved to be productive in other ways; my speaking events and conventions had been cancelled, so I took on new mentees, read books, wrote blurbs, signed up for a course, and produced some webinars. Still, I couldn’t write. Nothing solid. Nothing that worked. Nothing that would stick. There was only the weekly social media poetry-date with my friend in Wisconsin, where, for the past year, we have shared our observations and reflections as haiku/senryu. These tiny poems of less than seventeen syllables have become the backbone of my pandemic record.On 4 April, my mother got a call from the rest home, and for the next week I was immune to the pandemic. my fatherdyingthe world stills
New Zealand’s compassionate policy during Level 4 lockdown was for one family member visitor per dying non-Covid patient. In strict quarantine. In full PPE. For a week, my mother, my sister, and I did turn about. My brothers, living in other towns, were not so lucky. I read Dad the poems he’d read to me when I was little. The Wreck of the Hesperus. Jabberwock. Even giggled over some Pam Ayres. I read him a couple of poems of my own, including the one about our midnight trips to catch eel at Pukehina creek. He died gently, in his own time. I joked that he could at least tell me where he’d buried the family treasure before he went. Nothing doing. Dad raised his eyebrows in a classic Kiwi East Coast wave.
When I wasn’t with him, I wrote daily updates for the family, doing my best to smooth the edges of words like night and death. eggshells, hearts, and other fragilities
letterboxtiny wings strugglein a web
Nor was I with Dad when he died on 9 April. On 10 April, I woke up early. Or perhaps I’d barely slept. I pulled the curtains open and watched a milky sunrise.
dawngrey upon greya heron in flight
But I was lucky because Mum joined my family bubble. I got to hug her, at least. For two days, we sat in the sun, drank tea, and took phone calls from friends and family. We told stories of Dad. There was nothing for us to plan; Level 4 health regulations meant all bodies had to be cremated. There were no funerals. No flowers. No family groups. No exceptions. Cart me off in a cardboard box, Dad always said.in the rushesa reed bendsunseen
The pandemic raged on. While Mum knitted me a jersey, I went back to work, a short commute when you’re a full-time writer working from home. Over the next few weeks, I replied to mentees, judged an award, edited a national children’s anthology, rescheduled some local writing meet-ups, and critiqued some work for colleagues. I read another book. I won an award which would have made Dad proud; we celebrated with a cup of tea. In the evenings, we turned off the news and watched the Endeavour series from start to finish. I cuddled the dog, my son, my darling, my mum. Still the only writing was the poems. A few words scribbled on scraps of paper. Like breathing in tiny shallow breaths. Stabs of acute pain, while I wait for the panic attack to pass. I imagine those same feelings are playing out in ICUs everywhere.
On April 28, New Zealand loosened its lockdown restrictions, moving into Alert Level 3 in a cautious contactless reopening; Mum went home to sleep in her own bed and, I suspect, to start her grieving.
We’re not special, and I’m not complaining. Yes, it’s hard to lose a parent in a global pandemic. Yes, it’s hard to be far from the people you desperately need to hug in times like these. But it was the right thing to do. Here in New Zealand, our numbers have been promising—just 2 new cases in the past week, with 96% of all cases recovered. Things could have been so much worse; they might still be.
a shoulderdraped with privilegeher back freezes
On 13 May, New Zealand moved to Alert Level 2, which allows for up to ten people to meet with distancing and contact tracing records. Our precious bubbles are popping, and it scares me. But I saw my brother and his family yesterday. We had a family lunch. Sushi. Pasta. It felt almost normal. Today, my daughter and her partner flew home.
I’m not sure when I’ll be able to write again. For now, it seems the world is changing too fast. Anxious-Piglet-sorts don’t cope well with change. I’ll try again tomorrow.
the pestilence followed usinto spacerampagingrampantin ragged, haggard lungsWe ejected the dead,sent them gentle into the night.Imagined the starry fireworksglimpsed on far-off porches.We saw only darkness.Bereft, we drifted on.
Lee Murray is a multi-award-winning writer and editor of science fiction, fantasy, and horror (Sir Julius Vogel, Australian Shadows) and a three-time Bram Stoker Award® nominee. Her works include the Taine McKenna military thrillers (Severed Press), and supernatural crime-noir series The Path of Ra, co-written with Dan Rabarts (Raw Dog Screaming Press), as well as several books for children. She is proud to have edited thirteen speculative works, including award-winning titles Baby Teeth: Bite Sized Tales of Terror and At the Edge(with Dan Rabarts), Te Kōrero Ahi Kā (with Grace Bridges and Aaron Compton) and Hellhole: An Anthology of Subterranean Terror (Adrenaline Press). She is the co-founder of Young New Zealand Writers, an organisation providing development and publishing opportunities for New Zealand school students, co-founder of the Wright-Murray Residency for Speculative Fiction Writers, and HWA Mentor of the Year for 2019. In February 2020, Lee was made an Honorary Literary Fellow in the New Zealand Society of Authors Waitangi Day Honours. Lee lives over the hill from Hobbiton in New Zealand’s sunny Bay of Plenty where she dreams up stories from her office overlooking a cow paddock. Read more at www.leemurray.info   

So, You’re Trapped at Home with Your Demons: A Guest Post by Donna Lynch

Good morning, friends and fiends:
I don't know about you all, but the state of the world has me in a serious funk lately. Time has last all meaning, my writing is disjointed and all over the place, I think I've gone through all of Netflix, and when I'm not having nightmares, I'm dealing with some pretty serious bouts of insomnia again. However, in a time when we're all probably spending way too much time in our heads, I think now it's more important than ever to open a dialogue up and talk about mental health. As such, I invited one of my all-time favorite writers to stop by the Madhouse today, to chat about how writing can help soothe and heal in a time of turmoil.
Donna Lynch is a dark fiction writer, poet, and the co-founder—along with her husband, artist and musician Steven Archer—of the dark electro-rock band Ego Likeness (Metropolis Records). Her written works include Isabel Burning, Driving Through the Desert, Ladies & Other Vicious Creatures, Daughters of Lilith, In My Mouth, Witches, and Choking Back the Devil.
Now Donna and I first met at a Raw Dog Screaming Press event around seven(ish) years ago, and while we have countless things in common, one of the things I love best about her is how beautifully honest and authentic she is. Right off the bat, I knew that she was someone I could laugh with, joke around with, cry with, all while having really serious conversations about life and how fucked up it can get. Over the years, we've written poetry alongside each other, and on some occasions even together, and she is someone who constantly inspires me and whose voice and poetry I often turn to when I need a dose of comfort in the dark. 
With that said, I invited her here today to talk a little bit about confronting our demons, something that she did masterfully in her Bram Stoker award-nominated collection, Choking Back the Devil--which I highly recommend reading if you haven't picked up a copy yet. 
Until next time!
Stay safe and be well, Stephanie M. Wytovich 
So, You’re Trapped at Home with Your Demonsby DonnaLynch
Well, here we are. The event that many of us—the scientists and doctors, the horror lovers, the anxious, the nihilists, the Tank Girl and Mad Max fans—have always known was coming: PANDEMIC.
Most everyone has lost something at this point. Some losses, temporary or negligible, others irreparable and permanent. It’s neither wise nor helpful to compete in the Pain Olympics, but it’s important to remember how deep the chasms of loss can be. Let’s try to be honest with ourselves about how far we’ve fallen, and how much further down we could go.
While we wait to see what the virus and the future holds, we can hardly ignore the darkness with our walls. Our demons are always there, but now that they know we’re captive, they’re hungrier than ever. We used to have a cat that would catch mice, then put them in the bathtub, tormenting them before the kill. He knew they couldn’t get out.
It’s like that some days.
I recognize that not everyone is lying around on fainting couches, succumbing to ennui, while typhus rages in sewage-slicked streets. People are busy—many busier than before—but no amount of work can keep us from going to dark places, whether we’re alone, or not alone enough. We’re afraid of getting sick. We’re afraid of suffering and dying. We’re afraid for our loved ones. We’re worried about money, about resources, about our homes and businesses, our debts, our social lives and relationships. We are worried about everything, and there comes a point where our brains say: Enough! I’m going to go over here now and remember this shitty thing that happened years ago while we’re trying to fall asleep! Enjoy! And in the end, you really can’t win. The demons are inside and out.
So, what can we do?I’ll share with you my daily isolation-plague-time regiment:Wake up for the 19th timeFeed the catTake medsOpen my laptopWatch Netflix until I can’t handle the open laptop’s judgmental glare anymoreWrite a few linesLight incenseWash the dishesTrauma memory/ dissociative episodeawww baby chipmunk right outside the window!Write a few more linesGet stuck on social media because someone is wrong on the internet          BAD MOODThink about that time in 6th grade I lied about having a boyfriend and got called out and everyone laughed at meLight more incense but this time chanting the names of lesser demons because, hey, the more the merrierTequilaVideo chats with dumb filtersBed, sort of

You can use mine as a template, but your mileage may vary.
Here’s the important part of the plan, though: Write down your demons. You don’t have to be good at it. Just write them out, write their names, describe their faces, what they’ve done—literally or shrouded in metaphor. There’s no way to be wrong, because it’s your story, it’s your language.
There are tons of other ways to cope with your demons in this unprecedented time of fear. Writing is just one, and it’s the one that works the best for me. You have to face them and if not now, when? The punchline is that they’re still going to be there when you go back into the world someday. They’ve been there the whole time.
The truth is, most of us don’t ever say goodbye to them. We just learn to coexist. Love the film or hate it, TheBabadook was one of the best modern metaphors for trauma and the reality of living with it. Chain that fucker up in the cellar and feed it just enough to keep it contented. Strive for attainable goals with those bastards, because they don’t like to leave. Face them, name them, and write it down, draw it, sing it, play it, weave it, plant it, sweat it, scream it out at the moon—it doesn’t matter how or what, just as long as you don’t run and hide. Don’t cower under your blankets or pretend that you’re fine when you know you’re not. Don’t be fine. Don’t be afraid of not being fine. Say you’re afraid when you’re afraid. We don’t have any control of what’s happening outside, but inside, it’s your party. You make the theme and write the guest list.
I can’t say that writing will heal you, but it certainly doesn’t hurt. And while being heard is helpful, what’s even better is being able to express your pain. I get to tell my story, whether it’s to all of you, or if it’s just to myself and a private audience of monsters. You get to tell your stories, too. And while you’re trapped inside with your demons, remember they’re trapped in there with you. So make them listen.

AT THE EDGE OF ALL WORLDS WITH MATT BETTS

Hello there, friends and fiends, Today in the Madhouse, we're cheering on one of our dearest friends and colleagues, Matt Betts, as he celebrates the release of Carson of Venus: The Edge of All Worlds, his first book in the Edgar Rice Burroughs universe. For more information on the book, and to read a short excerpt, see below![And congrats again, Matt. This is so wonderful!]Synopsis/Info:The groundbreaking Edgar Rice Burroughs Universe launches with Carson of Venus: The Edge of All Worlds —the first in a series of all-new canonical novels expanding Edgar Rice Burroughs worlds of wonder and adventure! For the first time ever, softcover and hardcover editions, as well as a limited Collector’s Edition with a signed bookplate, will be available in a simultaneous release. When a mysterious enemy attacks his adopted nation of Korva, Earthman Carson Napier discovers his own arrival on Venus years ago may have unknowingly triggered the strike. The invaders’ trail of death and destruction leads Carson and his beloved princess Duare headlong into battle against a seemingly invincible, primordial race. But that is not Carson’s only challenge, for an uncanny phenomenon has entangled him with two strange individuals from beyond spacetime. Will Carson be able to solve the mysteries of his past and the enigmatic visitors before the entire planet descends into chaos?Excerpt:
Fire and ash blackened his armored bands, but he advanced without the appearance of concern. The black smoke rippled off him as he stepped from the fiery mess. Each step of his large feet seemed to hasten the floor cracks that still moved in our direction.
“Stop!” I shouted. “This is a grand fight we have going on here, but if you advance any farther, you’ll shatter this floor and hurl us both to our deaths.” He continued forward as if he hadn’t heard me, one heavy step after another. I looked to the broad strip of white rock that encircled the room, hoping it would be sturdier than the glasslike material that composed the floor.
At that moment, the whole building seemed to shake. There came a tremendous cracking sound, and the section of the flooring upon which I stood lurched down several feet with a sickening screech. I flung myself to one side and grabbed a thick section of the clear floor, holding on with one hand as I watched the great chunk of glass upon which I had just been standing twist and turn on the way to the ground far below.
Fingers bleeding, I clutched the sharp edges in order to keep myself from following the broken section down. The sounds of combat around me fell away until I heard nothing but my own breathing, ragged and desperate, fearing the slightest breeze would cause my fragile handhold to break free.
Copyright © Edgar Rice Burroughs, Inc. All rights reserved. All logos, characters, names, and the distinctive likenesses thereof are trademarks or registered trademarks of Edgar Rice Burroughs, Inc. Used by permission.

BIO:
Matt Betts is the author of such science fiction novels as the critically recognized adventure Odd Men Out and its sequel Red Gear Nine, the urban fantasy Indelible Ink, and the giant monster vs. giant robot tale The Shadow beneath the Waves. He is also an accomplished speculative poet, and lives in Ohio with his wife and children.

THROUGH THE GATE WITH DEBORAH L. DAVITT

Hello and Good Morning, Everyone!
I recently had the absolute pleasure of reading Deborah L. Davitt's collection, The Gates of Never, and once I finished it, I knew I had to chat with her some more about the book. For those of you who might be unfamiliar it,  The Gates of Never is a speculative collection that fuses history, mythology, and magic with futurism, science, and science fiction. Personally, I felt like I learned so much about mythology as I was reading these poems, and even with the stories that I was already familiar with, seeing how Davitt interpreted these myths or these creatures was really fun and it kept me turning the page fairly quickly as I anticipated what was next.
But don't just take my word for it! Here's what others are saying about it:
“With The Gates of Never Deborah Davitt offers us a sumptuous exploration of the cosmic and the mythic, the historic and the familiar. Her lines hum with memory and imagination, forging a distinctive landscape of voice and omen, whether it’s taking on sea wolves or ancient empires, the mysteries of the human heart or a single leaf. This is a finely-tuned collection for those who dare to dream deeply in a vast cosmos.”–Bryan Thao Worra, NEA Fellow in Literature.
Rich in humanity and mythology, Deborah Davitt‘s stunning poetry collection THE GATES OF NEVER overflows with eloquence and dark beauty.–Christina Sng, Bram Stoker Award-winning author of A COLLECTION OF NIGHTMARES
In The Gates of Never, Deborah L. Davitt plumbs the everyday and the eldritch, ancient past and technological future, the dance of bone and skin, of seed and flower, of eros and thanatos: bodies cleaving — flesh joining and also splitting, stone and metal changing and reshaping — to form old and new lives and entities, based in magic and myth as well as rocket fuel and neon, a startlingly familiar amalgam of the sacred and the profane. Davitt’s exquisite poems will set your imagination on emerald fire.–Vince Gotera, Editor, Star*Line and the North American Review
So now that we've certainly got your attention, take my hand and follow me through the gate as we learn more about this fabulous collection and the brilliant author behind it.
With iron spikes and mermaid tears,
Stephanie M. Wytovich

SMW: Tell us about your collection. What gave you the idea to create in this fantastical, speculative world, and in your opinion, what does it represent at its most literal and figurative heights?
DLD: Hi, Stephanie! Thanks for giving me the chance to talk about my collection! The Gates of Never is a collection of my poems that were published or written in the first two years of my poetry-writing adventure, so they span from about 2015-2017 in my poetical output. (Words that just five years ago, I would never have dreamed that I would write.) I wanted to put them together in some form more substantive than being scattered between some twenty different venues, online and off, and so I started looking at how to shape them into a collection.
Having read a few modern poetry collections, I think that where most of them fall apart for me in in two places—either having only one note or tone, where I believe in variation and contrast as important artistic devices—or having jarring shifts that don’t contribute to an overall sense of narrative or direction. So it was important to me that the collection as a whole have subsections—each “gate” represents a thematic grouping. And that the collection should feel dynamic—that it should move. And since I write in different eras and on topics from history to fairy tales to science fiction, that sense of dynamism comes from moving from the past into the future.
SMW: What was your favorite part of the collection to create and explore, and then to play devil’s advocate, what was the hardest for you?
DLD: Since I wrote the poems all at different points in time, and only brought them together as a whole later, hmm. I enjoyed creating each of the poems individually. Form or free verse doesn’t matter—form for me is a copilot, and while I might not wind up where I thought I would, with form holding part of the wheel with me, I sometimes wind up someplace more interesting than my original goal. Free verse lets me hold absolute control of meaning, and I play freely in both.
But since these poems weren’t directly intended to be read side by side in their original conception, the hardest part was the ‘scrapbooking’ process—finding which could sit beside each other. Could comment on each other. Could echo or deny each other. Could create a sense of narrative whole with each other. That was harder, but in its own way, I found it very rewarding. It makes you take several steps back to really judge your own work and go, “Hmm. Is that one as strong as I thought it was? Does that work beside that one?”
SMW: What drew you to the historical and mythological references in the book and do you have a favorite? And to piggyback on that, how did you go about researching for it when you were first getting started?
DLD: I adore mythology. Sometimes I wrote about things I already knew quite a bit about—the Russalka, the banshee, or some of the Greek myths that I directly compare/contrast to the moons of the solar system (Ganymede in “A Mask of Ice” is a captive of an abusive gas giant, both the boy stolen by Zeus and the moon covered in ice; Enceladus in the eponymous “Enceladus,” is a captive of Saturn, but she’s about to birth dragons. . . or become just another shattered, ephemeral ring.)
But other poems came about when I was reading about other cultures. I was reading about Maori facial tattoos and what they’d originally meant in their culture, and the real and very respectful traditions of preserving heads, which reminded me of things I’d read about teraphim in very early Israelite traditions.
Now, in most of the places you’ll see them referred to as household gods, little idols, but I’d also read Tim Powers’ Three Days to Never which posits them as the preserved heads of dead sons. You can wiki the origins of the concept (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Teraphimwhich might be specious scholarship, but who knows.) The two concepts latched together in my head as respectful ways of treating the dead out of two disparate traditions isolated from each other by time and geography, and that landed for me, in how we treat our own dead, and how we cling to them and their memory.
SMW: Gates are a staple in your collection. What do they represent to you?
DLD:Gates are places of passage, places of transition. You can pass through a gate in either direction, but once you’re through, you’re in another place, another time. And yet, for me, time is all of one piece, and the past is always with us. Even as we stand in the future, the ghosts of every generation before us dance in our DNA. We deny it at our own peril.
SMW: Something that I see a lot as an editor is either a heavy reliance on free verse, or a strict adherence to technical form. As someone who writes in both, what do you think the advantages are to challenging oneself to try out different type of poetry?
DLD: Well, as I said earlier, free verse allows me direct control over my meaning. So when I start writing a free-verse poem, I have a set goal for this poem, and I know more or less what I want to say, but sometimes, as I’m writing, it’ll change under my fingers anyway. I’ll find a repetition, a phrase, an image that I want to use to create structure, and poof, there’s a poem.
Form is, as I also said earlier, frequently my copilot. Sometimes the demands of say, a sestina, with those immovable words in their rigid order at the end of each line, forces the story I’m telling in those lines to go a little different than I expected, and that’s fine, because . . . as Pratchett told us, the fifth element is Surprise, and I would be a worse writer if I didn’t sometimes surprise myself. Surprise is delight. Surprise is letting your hind brain and the form do some of the work, and either being pleased with the shape of what you’ve wrought by the end or feeling the need to do a little gentle tinkering.Now, I’ve worked with a fair number of people in a little poetry workshop/contest thing I’ve run for the past three years to know that this doesn’t work for everyone. I think it’s the difference between “pantsers” and plotters in prose. Some people have to do a rough draft of what they want the poem to say and then nail it down in every particular, or they don’t feel like they’ve done it right. And if that’s their process, more power to them!
But it’s not my process at all! Sometimes, by letting go and not overcontrolling the process, I find I get some of my best results.
And sometimes, I’ll write a poem in form, frown, and then rewrite it in free verse, stare at both versions for a day or so, and then kick one screaming out into an editorial slushheap. I can’t tell you which one is “better.” I can only tell you which one I like more. It’s up to an editor to tell me if they like that one or not. Hah!
SMW: Something that I’m always drawn to as a reader is the hybridity of poetry, especially in regard to genre. This book weaves between history and fantasy and science fiction, so I was wondering what advice you had for writers who are looking to dabble in hybrid poetry, whether in relation to genre or form?
DLD: Erg. The hard part isn’t writing it. It’s selling it. I have had relatively little luck with literary journals but . . . heck, most literary journals don’t pay. Most genre magazines do. The trick is becoming self-aware enough of what genetics each of your poems has, so that you can fling them at the markets more likely to enjoy them.
And some of that comes from getting to know the markets. Trying the editors out with . . . two, three, five, seventeen batches of poems (most poetry markets accept submission packets of 3-5 poems each time, so don’t just send one, unless that’s what the guidelines say. Always send poems in  packs. 
They’re social animals. They get lonely in their cage in the queue. And even if an editor doesn’t like poems 1-4, poem #5 might catch their eye. So why not send them all together, instead of waiting 90 days between submissions of one. . . poem. . .at. . . a. . . time?
Once you’ve gotten a couple of personals, you’ll start to get a feel for what a given editor likes or dislikes. And then you can tailor your submission packets a little more towards that perception of their tastes. Though they’ll perennially surprise you. I’ve sold poems that I thought were the weakest in their packet, while the editor never even mentioned the one I thought was the best.
We are our own worst judges.
Then you grab the four that came back as rejected, slap another friend in with them, and submit them elsewhere. Ideally, the same day, hah.
So the advice for hybrid poetry is . . . really the same advice for writing or submitting anything else. Write what you know, in your own voice. Submit, submit, submit, evaluate where you’re at, where a market’s head is at, polish, write more, submit, submit, submit.
SMW: What speculative poetry books have you read lately and/or are on your TBR list? Anything specific that you’re particularly looking forward to?
DLD: I am a huge fan of John W. Sexton’s Inverted Night.Each poem feels, mentally, like bubblewrap under the fingers. There’s a near-tensile strength to the diction, the inversions, in every poem, that makes me want to pop them and let the meaning ooze out over my fingers. I’m a fan. T.D. Walker’s “Small Waiting Objects” is also excellent; I find reading her poems is a tonic for the stressful times we live in.
Both poets reveal something about me, lol. I was a technical writer for twenty years. One of my paramount obsessions in writing and language is clarity. Even when Sexton’s inverting things and challenging the reader’s preconceptions, there’s a precision and clarity to his language that I really enjoy.
SMW: What is next in store for your readers?
DLD: I have another collection, this one all written as one contiguous narrative flow of poems, out making the publishing rounds. If I don’t get traction on this one in the next year, I might lean towards self-publishing it. I love it, and really want to get it in people’s hands.
I also have literally dozens of short stories out there, either published or waiting to be published, and several novels that, should the world ever let me sit down and write for more than a half hour at a time again, I need to get back to. You can find all of my many things at www.edda-earth.com/bibliography.
BIO:
Deborah L. Davitt graduated first in her class from the University of Nevada, Reno in 1997, and took her BA in English Literature with a strong focus on medieval and Renaissance literature. In 1999, she received an MA in English from Penn State.

Since then, she has taught composition, rhetoric, and technical writing, and created technical documentation on topics ranging from nuclear submarines to NASA’s return to flight to computer hardware and software.

Her poetry has garnered her Pushcart, Dwarf Star, and Rhysling nominations and has appeared in over fifty journals; her short fiction has appeared in Compelling Science Fiction, Galaxy’s Edge, and  Flame Treeanthologies.
In 2019, her first full-length poetry collection, The Gates of Never, was published by Finishing Line Press.

She currently lives in Houston, Texas, with her husband and son.

HWA Poetry Showcase, Vol 7 Meet and Greet

Hello and Good Morning, Folks: 
As most of you know, April is #NationalPoetry Month, and the Horror Writers Association (HWA) is opening submissions for the seventh installment of the HWA Poetry Showcase. The showcase will open on April 1st and run until May 31st and is open for HWA members only. 
Full details to submit can be found here.Note: I will be editing this year’s anthology alongside judges Gwendolyn Kiste and Carina Bissett. All types of poetry are welcome and encouraged, as well as all types of horror, although poems that elicit themes of child abuse/pedophilia, racism, homophobia, or transphobia will be immediately dismissed.
So let’s meet the judges and have a little chat!
WYTOVICH: When did you first get into poetry? If you remember the first poem/author you read, feel free to include it here.
KISTE: The first poem I remember is definitely my dad reciting “The Raven” to me when I was very young. He actually started reading me Poe while my mom was still pregnant with me. That means there’s never been a time when poems like “The Raven” and “Annabel Lee” weren’t part of my life, so without a doubt, I can trace my love of both poetry and horror directly back to Edgar Allan Poe and my dad.
Other than Poe, another spooky favorite is “The Highwayman” by Alfred Noyes. My dad also recited that one to me a lot, often on car trips. Because he has a huge number of poems memorized, he could make any car ride infinitely more exciting by suddenly breaking out in verse. Since I’ve always loved how my dad knew so much poetry by heart, I memorized my first poem at around seven years old. It was “Ozymandias” by Percy Shelley. The irony is that of course, now I’m a way bigger fan of Percy’s lovely wife, Mary, but for what it’s worth, I still know that poem to this day. It’s a beautiful piece and one worth seeking out if you’ve never read it.  
BISSETT: I remember seeing The Outsiders when it was released. Like Pony Boy, I was struck by the Robert Frost poem “Nothing Gold Can Stay.” I wrote small poems as a young girl, but that movie marked the moment when I realized the true power of poetry. However, it wasn’t until years later that I was introduced to Anne Sexton’s Transformations, and my pursuit of poetry became a more focused goal.
WYTOVICH: What are you hoping to see this year from poetry submitted to the showcase?
KISTE: I’m so excited to see a wide variety of horror subgenres—give me your fairy tale horror, your body horror, your Gothic horror, truly any kind of horror there is! I love it all. I very much hope to receive submissions from a diverse group of authors. Women, authors of color, LGBTQ authors—we always need new voices in horror, so I highly encourage everyone to consider submitting. Even if you’re more of a fiction or nonfiction writer, but you’ve been curious about branching out into horror poetry, please send something our way. That’s a conversation I’ve had with authors in the past—that they feel like they might not “belong” because they aren’t a published poet yet. Truly, though, everyone has to start somewhere, so please don’t self-reject! I would love to read your work!
BISSETT: I’m always interested in poetry that carries multiple layers of meaning. I’m currently immersed in reading work by Ada Limón, Andrea Blythe, and Cate Marvin. I love poems with a fabulist bent, and I’m especially interested in pieces that explore culture and community through a feminist lens.
WYTOVICH: It’s no secret that horror poetry—or poetry with a dark, speculative bent—is certainly getting more popular. How do you interpret the rise in dark poetry over the year?
KISTE: Horror in general has been having such an incredible resurgence lately. Now, for those of us who’ve always loved the genre, we know that horror never really went away, but it is nice to see the genre getting a more mainstream spotlight at the moment. I think the popularity of horror poetry is definitely related to that. I’ve always believed that shorter forms are uniquely suited to horror. Both short fiction and horror poetry have the ability to pack such a powerful punch in a very small space. Poetry can sometimes be the most potent form of all literature, and horror might very well be the most potent genre of all, so put them together, and it’s truly a dynamite combination.
BISSETT: Despite its form, I’ve always thought of poetry as being similar to novel-length fiction. They are both platforms for “big” ideas. Poetry offers a way “to see a World in a Grain of Sand” (William Blake). Our world is a place where shadows have form and substance. I think dark poetry gives readers and writers a way to explore those shadows.
Bio : Gwendolyn Kiste is the Bram Stoker Award-winning author of The Rust Maidens, from Trepidatio Publishing; And Her Smile Will Untether the Universe, from JournalStone; the dark fantasy novella, Pretty Marys All in a Row, from Broken Eye Books; and the occult horror novelette, The Invention of Ghosts, from Nightscape Press. Her short fiction and nonfiction have appeared in Nightmare Magazine, Vastarien, Black Static, Daily Science Fiction, Unnerving, Interzone, and LampLight, among others. Originally from Ohio, she now resides on an abandoned horse farm outside of Pittsburgh with her husband, two cats, and not nearly enough ghosts. Find her online at gwendolynkiste.com
Bio : Carina Bissett is a writer, poet, and educator working primarily in the fields of dark fiction and interstitial art. Her short fiction and poetry have been published in multiple journals and anthologies including Arterial Bloom, Gorgon: Stories of Emergence, Hath No Fury, Mythic Delirium, NonBinary Review, and the HWA Poetry Showcase Vol. V and VI. She teaches online workshops at The Storied Imaginarium, and she is a graduate of the Creative Writing MFA program at Stonecoast. Her work has been nominated for several awards including the Pushcart Prize and the Sundress Publications Best of the Net. Links to her work can be found at http://carinabissett.com.

Bio : Stephanie M. Wytovich is an American poet, novelist, and essayist. Her work has been showcased in numerous venues such as Weird Tales, Gutted: Beautiful Horror Stories, Fantastic Tales of Terror, Year's Best Hardcore Horror: Volume 2, The Best Horror of the Year: Volume 8, as well as many others.

Wytovich is the Poetry Editor for Raw Dog Screaming Press, an adjunct at Western Connecticut State University, Southern New Hampshire University, and Point Park University, and a mentor with Crystal Lake Publishing. She is a member of the Science Fiction Poetry Association, an active member of the Horror Writers Association, and a graduate of Seton Hill University’s MFA program for Writing Popular Fiction. Her Bram Stoker Award-winning poetry collection, Brothel, earned a home with Raw Dog Screaming Press alongside Hysteria: A Collection of Madness, Mourning Jewelry, An Exorcism of Angels, Sheet Music to My Acoustic Nightmare, and most recently, The Apocalyptic Mannequin. Her debut novel, The Eighth, is published with Dark Regions Press.

Follow Wytovich on her blog at http://stephaniewytovich.blogspot.com/ and on twitter @SWytovich​.

HORROR CLUB AT POINT PARK UNIVERSITY HOSTS FUNDRAISER FOR WOMEN IN HORROR MONTH

Hello and Good Morning, Everyone--

As most of you know, February kicks off Women in Horror Month (WiHM), and over the years, I've worked hard to bring you a blog series that features spotlights on women working in the horror industry, whether that be through art, film, or literature, and then back in 2014, I even wrote a string of memoir pieces about my own experiences in the genre. However this year, I wanted to push myself, and my students, to get out in the community and spread the world and participate in an event that would help benefit women and children in need.

As faculty advisor for The Horror Club at Point Park University, and as a SafeZone Volunteer, my students and I have been talking a lot about the feminist wave that's currently moving throughout the industry (and the world). We've been discussing empowerment, equality, independence, living authentically and un-apologetically, and also talking about the reclamation of words and the character tropes they live in, i.e. the final girl, the witch, etc. Naturally, with all of that said, one of the topics that comes up quite a lot surrounds that women and violence.




Now I've been an advocate for the horror genre for as long as I can remember, and I think it's important that our stories and worlds and monsters exist because they shed light on humanity and all the conflicts and evils that we deal with on a regular basis. Our genre is light and dark, ying and yang, self and shadow, and these movies help us confront our fears, deal with our traumas, and not only learn to survive, but show us that it's possible. For me, it's been a saving grace, and I feel like I'm stronger because of it, not to mention more empathetic. Honestly, horror has taught me how to be a better person, how to love harder, how to care about those in my community, and it's shown me how to step up when I see someone in need of help.

And lately, I've seen a lot of pain.

According to the Rape, Abuse, and Incest National News Network (RAINN), "on average there are 433,648 victims (age 12 or older) of rape and sexual assault each year in the United states." In fact, every 73 seconds, someone is sexually assaulted, and out of those numbers, "82% of all juvenile victims are female, and 90% of adult rapes are female, [too]." 

With those numbers in mind, we wanted to do something big this year--our first year-- for WiHM, and I'm proud and excited to say that we'll be doing a fundraiser all month to benefit Pittsburgh Action Against Rape (PAAR), an organization that is "dedicated to assisting victims of sexual abuse and ending sexual violence in our community."

If you're interested in joining us for this cause, there are a lot of different ways to contribute:
Our fundraiser information can be found here, and we're looking for donations for PAAR to help benefit homeless youth, sexual assault victims, and victims of sex-trafficking. Items we're specifically looking for include: makeup bags, tampons, pads, sanitary wipes, tissues, makeup remover, Band-aids, shampoo, body wash, lotion, lip balm, toothbrushes, deodorant, body wipes, dry shampoo, loofahs, hair ties, and black hair care products (both travel sizes and full). Other items are welcomed, too, such as plain t-shirts and sweaters of all sizes, although we cannot accept anything used, so products must be new.If you or someone you know is suffering, both RAINN and PAAR have hotlines and live text-to-chat options to help listen, to help coach, and to help assist you.  You can get in touch with RAINN here, and PAAR here, and please know that you're loved and not alone.Raising awareness is also hugely important, so never hesitant to share information and resources on your platforms, with friends and family, at your job, etc. We're all in this together.Note: if you're long distance and want to donate, you can certainly do so! All donations and/or checks (made out to PAAR) can be mailed to:Point Park UniversityATTN: Stephanie M. WytovichCenter for Student Success201 Wood StreetPittsburgh, PA 15222-1984If you have any questions or concerns about the fundraiser, please be sure to reference our web link, but also don't hesitate to reach out to me directly. In the meantime, cheers to WiHM, and cheers to The Horror Club at Point Park University. You all make me so proud and grateful to be a part of this community.
Best,Stephanie M. Wytovich

Accepting and Dealing with Burnout

I’ve been a workaholic my entire life, and a big part of why that is deals with the fact that I struggle intensely with chronic depression, anxiety, stagnant migraines, and emotional trauma. When I work and throw myself into creative and academic ventures, I don’t think about all that ugliness, and as a result, it helps me cope and survive and do work that helps people all while giving me something to be proud of.
For 30 years, that lifestyle worked and helped me keep the monsters at bay. People were thrilled to see me at every event, at every reading. They were excited when I would travel to conventions and conferences, when I would organize workshops and events throughout the city. 
What they didn't like, however, was about two years ago when all that started to stop, when I started to say I was tired, that I didn't have the energy to keep working at that pace. I stopped going to a lot of events. I took a break from doing readings, from going to every conference, and people had no problem telling me I was selfish, that I was throwing away opportunities, that I was being a bad friend--and because I didn't want to be perceived as weak or rude, I told myself I could handle it and I kept pushing through.
And then I got sick. And then I got sicker.
And as they tend to do, things only got worse.


Let me talk about my average workday:I wake up around 6:30 a.m., shower, get ready for work, wrestle an adorable pit bull out of bed so I can take him outside, feed him, smother him in kisses, and start my day.I usually listen to an audio book during all of this (because I have to squeeze in time to read when I can), or I put on my tape recorder and talk through story ideas.I have a full-time position that I'm responsible for, but I also teach an undergraduate literature class, too, and then I’m currently teaching two graduate courses online that I also have to prep for, teach, and then grade. Note: Sometimes there are more than three classes in total, but this semester, I only took on that amount.A lot of my work includes me starting at a computer screen or reading non-stop, which puts  strain on my eyes, which often times triggers a migraine, and for the better part of this year (until recently because I dragged myself kicking and screaming to the doctor) I was getting migraines about 15 times a month.When I clock out for the day, I try to cook dinner---not because I have to for Dennis, but rather because I love to cook and it helps me manage my stress and do something I love at the same time—and then I take a break for about 60-90 minutes.
Next, I have a list of tasks that on any given evening, I have to work through:I have to prep for and grade papers for my undergraduate and graduate classes.I edit for a small-press so I have manuscripts to work on, read through, and/or market.I mentor/edit for another small-press so I have clients who I need to work with and lessons that needs to be prepped there as well. I review books on my website, so once a month, I try to write a book review. (Please note that I do this for free because I love books and supporting authors). I host author interviews on my website, so I juggle that in when I can, too. (Please note, that I do this for free because I love books and supporting authors).I edit the HWA Poetry Showcase every year so from April-August, I’m usually working on that; I also juror for the Stoker Awards from time to time.I have to maintain scholarly research and publications in my field so a lot of research goes into my job, not to mention to course proposals, etc.Oh, and then I write. 
Please note that none of the above includes any—and I mean any—typical day-to-day stuff like: laundry, cleaning, grocery shopping, walking our dog, meal prepping, scheduling doctor appointments, picking up medication, going to the gym, doing lawn work, etc.---all of which still gets done throughout the week when I can muster up the energy to do it.
This was all easier to maintain when for years—and I do mean years—I suffered from insomnia. I hardly slept, and when I did, I slept on the couch or on the floor of my living room because the comfort and intimacy of my bedroom terrified me. When I reconnected with Dennis a few years ago, he—my forever guardian angel--helped me through this, and now I can usually sleep in our bed (with Apollo, my other little blessing) to be asleep around 10:30-11:00 p.m.---something that I’m trying to be very strict about (mostly for my migraines).
I’m bringing all of this up because I know that I’m not the only one whose life is structured like this, and mind you, I don’t have children so I have it a lot easier than most. Even still, I can’t leave my house without my planner or my cell phone because all of my obligations, meetings , and deadlines are pre-programmed into them and without that type of organization, things simply wouldn’t get finished when they needed to, and with the field that I’m in, everything depends and functions based on deadlines. Nevertheless, I write this—mostly because I need to read it and see it on the page—because I have zero time for myself, for fun, for relaxation, for general enjoyment. I’ve become so engrossed in trying to survive, and pay my bills, and keep ahead of the game, and publish, that I forgot how to live. I feel immense guilt (and shame) if I’m not working constantly, and with the amount of people who depend on me (and who think it’s okay to use me because they know I’m a teacher and an editor), my life is often suffocating.
Honestly, I find myself crying a lot these days.
Now I talk a lot about mental health every day in my day job, and let’s not lie, it’s everywhere in my creative work, too, and something that I consistently ignore--despite the fact that I tell everyone else this--is that you’re not any good to others unless you’re good to yourself first. I mean, that’s why they tell you to put on your gas mask first before helping others in the event that something happens on the plane during your flight.
Why? Because Self-care is important. It’s necessary.And I’ve been giving it the middle finger for 30 years.

A few years ago, I put myself back in therapy. I’ve watched myself go through a lot of pain in my life and a lot of time it’s hard to get up and look in the mirror, to look at my scars (both real and invisible), not to mention visit family on holidays, go the cemetery to pay my respects, or pick up the phone to tell someone that I love them. It’s hard for me to pretend everything is okay, when it’s not, and hasn’t been okay for a very long time.
Some of that is my fault.Some of that isn’t.
So here I am, writing this letter to myself and to you, because I’m tired: mentally, emotionally, and physically. I need a break. I need to teach myself how to be happy again, and I need to remind myself that I have wonderful, beautiful, inspiring people in my life who love me and care about me, and then I’m going to let myself spend more time with those people because that should be a priority, that should be on my to-do list.
I’m going to let myself sleep when I’m tired. I’m going to drink water (instead of coffee or tea). I’m going to go to the gym and nourish my body with food I spent time preparing and blessing in my kitchen. I’m not going to set a reading goal next year and I’m only going to read books I want to read regardless of whether or not they’re timely or recently published or something I’ve been shamed about not reading because I have gaps in my knowledge and reading history (just like literally everyone else does on this planet). I’m going to finish my next book when I finish it, not because I have to meet some imaginary deadline in my head (one that I put there), but because I want to enjoy writing it. I need to slow down, to learn to say no instead of always saying yes, and I need to be okay with putting myself first.
Why?
Because I told myself that when/if it stopped being fun, I wouldn’t do it anymore.
And lately, it’s stopped being fun.
So it’s time to breathe some life back into myself and my art. It’s time to realize that some things and people are never going to change, but that I’m not one of those things; I can change and I can choose to remove myself from situations that make me feel uncomfortable or bad, or from people who don’t cherish or appreciate my time, my mind, and my heart.
Does this mean I'm going to quit doing everything? No. Of course not. At the end of the day, I really love what I do, but I need to learn how to structure and manage it better.  All of this just means that I'm going to be pickier about how I spend my time, who I spend it with, what projects I take on, etc. It means that I still want to be included and brainstormed with and invited out and to things, but that I might have to say no from time to time.
I need to rebuild myself, to put my best self forward, and I’m looking forward to meeting a new version of myself, and to seeing a lighter, happier, healthier version of her, too, because burnout is real and the pressure in this industry and in this field and in this life is intense. So while I hope that you all continue to be kind to each other, I hope you’ll also remember to be kind to yourselves, too.
Because I know it’s something that I really need to work on.
And for once, I intend to put in the work.
With love and gratitude,Stephanie

WHEN THE MANNEQUINS COME TO TOWN

Hi Everyone--
Today is the publication day for my sixth book of poetry, an apocalyptic SF/Horror collection titled The Apocalyptic Mannequin. This book is published through Raw Dog Screaming Press and the cover art is done by Steven Archer.
I wrote about my experience and influences writing these poems in an article via Speculative Chic (you can read the full article here), but I wanted to include a small snippet in this post to give some more background on how this project came to be: "A few years ago, I wrote a sci-fi/horror poem titled “The Apocalyptic Mannequin.” It’s a post-apocalyptic robotic soliloquy that challenges the definition of body and how it became reinterpreted when the world collapsed. See, after experimenting with memoir and genre in my collection Sheet Music to My Acoustic Nightmare, I wanted to do something completely different and really challenge myself to step out of my comfort zone, so I grabbed my crossbow and axe and headed into my own version of a science-fiction horror story while I contemplated the cause and effects of the apocalypse and then mined the wreckage for scraps of poetry."
Please consider adding the book to your TBR pile on Goodreads, picking up a copy via Amazon, Raw Dog Screaming Press, or Barnes and Noble, and/or reviewing how my mannequin army treated you on your favorite review site.
About the book :
Doomsday is here and the earth is suffering with each breath she takes. Whether it’s from the nuclear meltdown, the wrath of the Four Horsemen, a war with technology, or a consequence of our relationship with the planet, humanity is left buried and hiding, our bones exposed, our hearts beating somewhere in our freshly slit throats.
This is a collection that strips away civilization and throws readers into the lives of its survivors. The poems inside are undelivered letters, tear-soaked whispers, and unanswered prayers. They are every worry you’ve had when your electricity went out, and every pit that grew in your stomach watching the news at night. They are tragedy and trauma, but they are also grief and fear, fear of who—or what—lives inside us once everything is taken away.
These pages hold the teeth of monsters against the faded photographs of family and friends, and here, Wytovich is both plague doctor and midwife, both judge and jury, forever searching through severed limbs and exposed wires as she straddles the line evaluating what’s moral versus what’s necessary to survive.
What’s clear though, is that the world is burning and we don’t remember who we are.
So tell me: who will you become when it’s over?
What They're Saying :
“Like a doomsday clock fast-forwarding to its final self-destruction, Wytovich’s poetry will give you whiplash as you flip through page after page. The writing here is ugly yet beautiful. It reads like a disease greedily eating up vital organs. The apocalypse has arrived and it couldn’t be more intoxicating!”—Max Booth III, author of Carnivorous Lunar Activities
“In this hauntingly sensuous new collection of poetry, you’ll long to savor every apocalyptic nightmare you have ever feared. Blooming in the beauty of destruction and the terror of delight, Stephanie M Wytovich’s poems remind us that we feel the world better, love the world better, when we recognize the ephemeral nature of everything achingly alive beyond our mannequin minds. Here, we are captive to our deepest velvet snarls, zombie songs, and radioactive wishes, at the mercy of a neon reaping. Reading this collection is like dancing through Doomsday, intoxicated by the destructive, decadent truth of desire in our very mortality. In these poems, you will find revelry in the ruins of everything you once held dear — and you will love it to the last as you watch the world unravel around you.”—Saba Syed Razvi, author of Heliophobia and In the Crocodile Gardens
“Beautifully bleak, Stephanie M. Wytovich’s latest collection posits scenarios of the apocalypse and the horrors to come thereafter with language like fragrant hooks in your skin. Vivid, each word a weight on your tongue, these poems taste of metal and ash with a hint of spice, smoke. She reminds us the lucky ones die first, and those who remain must face the horrors of a world painted in blisters and fear. Leave it to Wytovich to show us there’s beauty in the end, just beneath all that peeling, irradiated skin.”—Todd Keisling, author of Ugly Little Things and Devil’s Creek
“Set in a post-apocalyptic world that at times seems all too near, Wytovich’s poems conjure up frighteningly beautiful and uncomfortably prescient imagery. Populated by a cast of unsettling, compelling characters, this collection is one that stuck with me.”—Claire C. Holland, author of I Am Not Your Final Girl
“A surreal journey through an apocalyptic wasteland, a world that is terrifyingly reminiscent of our own even as the blare of evacuation alarms drowns out the sizzle of acid rain, smiling mannequins bear witness to a hundred thousand deaths, and “the forest floor grows femurs in the light of a skeletal moon.” Stephanie M. Wytovich’s The Apocalyptic Mannequin is as unsettling as it is lovely, as grotesque as it is exquisite.”—Christa Carmen, author of Something Borrowed, Something Blood-Soaked
"Wytovich is a witch goddess who weaves together shadows, cobwebs, skulls, and pain. She is more than an author–she is a force of nature overflowing with incredible power."- A.E. Siraki

MIGRATING TO THE PLACE OF BROKEN THINGS: AN INTERVIEW WITH LINDA D. ADDISON AND ALESSANDRO MANZETTI

Good morning, friends and fiends--


Today in the MADHOUSE, we're sitting down with Linda D. Addison and Alessandro Manzetti  to chat about their collaborative poetry collection, The Place of Broken Things published via Crystal Lake Publishing. This wonderfully dark, surreal book is filled with music and nightmares as it explores the darkness surrounding the words "Broken," "Things," and "Place." When reading it, I was immediately struck by the way the two of them complimented one another, their words each breathing into the other's like soft prayers and suffocations. 
I hope you'll add this book to your TBR list soon, but in the meantime, we're going to talk about the construction of a collaborative work, the narrative flow of poetry, and how rhythm and repetition influence the musicality of the form. So grab some coffee or tea and snuggle up because we're about to fall into the most hauntingly beautiful dream.
With broken teacups and honey,Stephanie M. Wytovich 


SMW: Tell us about your collection. What gave you the idea to create in this world, and in your opinion, what does it represent at its most literal and figurative heights?
Linda: Alessandro came up with the idea of us writing together and found a publisher, Linda suggested the title. There weren’t any hard rules (any theme distant or close to either Place or Broken or Thing…). We didn’t have a defined plan, the collection created its own unique music and we examined the inner and outer world through the lens of Broken, Things, Place.
SMW: What was your favorite part of the collection to create and explore, and then to play devil’s advocate, what was the hardest for you?
Alessandro: I really enjoyed working with Linda on the collab poems, it was absolutely the best part of the project. It was like exploring many places together, seeing all the things with four eyes. The hardest part was to write my solo poems, since my ‘instruments’ was so wonderfully tuned with Linda’s, and I needed to hear her voice near me.Linda: I’m in total agreement with Alessandro; it was exciting to write the collab poems because the music of his words & images varied from mine and inspired a different response than my solo poems, but even those were influenced by being in a shared mindset.
SMW: How was your experience collaborating with each other? Can you speak to your process a little?
Linda: The first poem we wrote was the collaborative poem with the same title as the book—after that we knew we could dance gloriously together. We were inspired to write by each other’s individual poems & others poetry, music, art, movies, friends, forms (haiku, concrete, etc.), real & imagined places; basically everything and anything.
SMW: The collection itself reads like a surreal nightmare, something that’s both present and rooted in reality, yet cloudy, almost as if it’s a past dream, familiar yet foreign. How do you personally define surrealism, and how did it influence/inspire you as you worked on the poetry for this book?
Alessandro: All my works are inspired by surrealism, I love its atemporal dimension, beyond time, and its dreaming way to tell something, which allows me to describe something not only on the surface, but diving into it. From the inside, things seem to change their form, showing themselves without skin and compromise.
SMW: There are a lot of nods to religious iconography and themes in the text. Can you speak to how notions of recovery, forgiveness, and redemption are used throughout the collection?
Linda: The word Broken is very strong; there’s so many ways for humans to break, for society to break. We both opened our imagination completely and let it flow, without limits.
SMW: Something that I particularly loved here was the way voyeurism was applied in the book. It was almost like you both were asking: why do we look? Why does the macabre interest us? So I’m curious, what is it about horror that makes you continue to look?
Alessandro: It all comes down to our controversial approach to the unknown and death. On one side we fear to open a mysterious door leading to another dimension, where we have no control over it but, on the other hand, we're fascinated to peek behind it. Horror plays the role of the keyhole of that door.
SMW: I also enjoyed the many nods to minimalist music/form. What is it about minimalism that you think works so well in the horror genre, and how does that sound translate to poetry?
Linda: We’re both exhilarated by our senses; what we hear, see, feel emotionally in the world. It doesn’t have to take a lot of words to invoke emotions of loss, regret, fear through poetry.
SMW: What’s in store next for your readers?
Linda: We both have poems in the upcoming issue of Weird Tales Magazine, which is great because Jonathan Maberry is the new editorial director, who will make sure mistakes from the past will not be repeated. Alessandro wrote his poem first and sent it to me to read; I used it to add some flavoring to the poem I created.  I have a story coming out in 2020 New Scary Tales to Tell in the Darkanthology, edited by Jonathan Maberry.
Alessandro: I have two new books of fiction upcoming this year: the dark thriller/Sci-Fi novella The Keeper of Chernobyl, to be released by Omnium Gatherum, and the hardcore-horror/weird story collection The Radioactive Bride, coming from Necro Publications. Also, I have a story coming out this year in Basphemous Rumors anthology, edited by David G. Barnett and Regina Garza Mitchell.
SMW: What advice do you have for writers working in poetry and/or considering working on a collaborative project?
Linda: It’s very important when doing a collaborative project with another creative person that each person enjoy and respect each other’s work and each other, as well as the ability to take feedback, without ego.Writing poetry should include reading poetry, all types, all genres, and all forms. When creating work, it’s fine to break the rules, but you have to know the rules first. It doesn’t hurt to try some different forms, you never know when some shape/rhythm will appeal/influence your work in a good way. As in any kind of writing:1-write a piece as well as you can (include getting separate edit/reader feedback, if you can)2-find an appropriate market & submit3-write another piece; start at (1) again…
Back of the book summary :
Bram Stoker Award® winners Linda D. Addison and Alessandro Manzetti use their unique voices to create a dark, surrealistic poetry collection exploring the many ways shattered bodies, minds, and souls endure. They created poems of visionary imagery encompassing death, gods, goddesses and shadowy, Kafkaesque futures by inspiring each other, along with inspiration from others (Allen Ginsberg, Pablo Neruda, Phillis Wheatley, etc.).
Construction of The Place started with the first bitten apple dropped in the Garden. The foundation defined by the crushed, forgotten, and rejected. Filled with timeless space, its walls weep with the blood of brutality, the tears of the innocent, and predatory desire. Enter and let it whisper dark secrets to you.
Blurbs :
“Addison and Manzetti … collaborations are seamless. Powerful stuff, indeed. You will find yourself re-visiting the pieces in this book, each time discovering something new.”—Thomas Monteleone, author of FEARFUL SYMMETRIES and recipient of the HWA Lifetime Achievement Award.
“There is no book of poetry quite like THE PLACE OF BROKEN THINGS! Linda Addison and Alessandro Manzetti spin dark magic! Highly recommended!” —Jonathan Maberry, New York Times bestselling author of V-WARS and GLIMPSE
“This book is totally alive. Addison and Manzetti have written a volume in which literally every line is worthy of being that book’s title.”—Josh Malerman, bestselling author of BIRD BOX
“The Place of Broken Things is a dark delight of a collection. Each piece embraces flavorful language that sticks on your tongue as you read along and digest the poems. Highly recommend this collection to all fans of darkness and the macabre!”—Sarah Tantlinger, Bram Stoker Award-winng author of The Devil’s Dreamland



Authors Bio :
Linda D. Addison, award-winning author of four collections, including How To Recognize A Demon Has Become Your Friend, and recipient of the 2018 HWA Lifetime Achievement Award. Her site: www.lindaaddisonpoet.com.
Alessandro Manzetti, award-winning author of five poetry collections, including Eden Undeground and No Mercy and works of fiction, among which the novels Naraka and Shanti. His site: www.battiago.com

RELEASING INVISIBLE CHAINS: AN INTERVIEW WITH MICHELLE RENEE LANE

 Hello and Good Morning, Everyone:
Today in the Madhouse, I have the pleasure of hosting one of my very best and dearest friends, Michelle Renee Lane. Michelle's book, Invisible Chains, debuted last month and has already found a strong following and readership across genres, and once you dig into the book, it's not hard to understand why. This novel is a powerhouse.
A bit about the book: Jacqueline is a young Creole slave in antebellum New Orleans.  An unusual stranger who has haunted her dreams since childhood comes to stay as a guest in her master’s house. Soon after his arrival, members of the household die mysteriously, and Jacqueline is suspected of murder.  Despite her fear of the stranger, Jacqueline befriends him, and he helps her escape. While running from the slave catchers, they meet conjurers, a loup-garou, and a traveling circus of supernatural freaks.  She relies on ancestral magic to guide her and finds strength to conquer her fears on her journey.
Now I was lucky enough to be an advanced reader for this book, both in its early stages at Seton Hill and prior to its publication date this year, and let me tell you that seeing this book hit the shelves was a truly beautiful thing. You see, Invisible Chains is so much more than a book that will just scare you...even though yes, it will 100% scare you. But this book will also make you think, think about life, think about death, think about the relationships we build, how we treat one another (and why). It's both timely and necessary, and I hope you'll pick up a copy and read it soon.
In the meantime however, below is an interview about the book. Here we talk magic, history, blood, and monsters, so I encourage you all to sit down with a glass of AB + and meditate on what vampires have come to represent in contemporary society, and how horror is both a reflection on past and current states of the world. 
With blood blisters and bite marks,Stephanie M. Wytovich
SMW: First and foremost, congratulations on your debut novel! It seems like it was just yesterday we were hanging out at SHU in the WPF program, so being able to hold this book in my hands is a wonderful feeling. To start us off, tell us a bit about your novel. What does it represent at its most literal and figurative heights to you?
MRL: Thank you, Stephanie. I can remember one of the first critique sessions I had in the MFA program for this novel. You sat almost directly across the room from me. I was a little intimidated, because it was the first time anyone had read an early draft of the novel and we didn’t really know each other at that point. As soon as I heard your feedback on the scene I had submitted, a scene that got cut from the final draft, I hoped we’d have lots more to talk about. And, shortly after that, we hung out in New Orleans together, talked about the horrors of being single, the pros and cons of falling in love with vampires (werewolves, and demons), and we’ve been friends ever since.
What does this novel represent to me? That’s a great a question. I think it took me a long time to really figure that out, because each time I sat down to write a scene I realized that although I was writing about the nineteenth century, the injustices and violence my protagonist experiences at the hands of slave owners and the vampire, are really a reflection of some of the issues women of color are facing in the twenty-first century. So, while women of color aren’t experiencing physical slavery (yet) by the accepted definition, our minds are often preoccupied with the additional tasks of being on guard to recognize minefields of racism and sexism in the smallest gestures and microaggressions. These extra tasks keep us busy throughout the day and often prevent us from accomplishing all the goals we set for ourselves – educations, higher paying jobs, the freedom to rest and enjoy the fruits of our labor. So, I suppose this book literally represents a goal I fought hard to accomplish. It is a product of my creative mind that allowed me to explore some of the more difficult aspects of my own life and the lives of other women of color – past, present, and future.
SMW: What was your favorite scene to work on in the book, and then to play devil’s advocate, which one gave you the hardest time and/or was the most difficult emotionally to spend time with?
MRL: Some of my favorite scenes to write were the scenes in which the vampire is not only seducing the protagonist, but when he realizes that he’s being seduced in return. I love villains, and vampires are some of my favorite monsters, so constructing dialog and interactions between Carlos and Jacqueline provided me with challenges I looked forward to tackling. The more his true face is revealed, the stronger she becomes. Since I loved writing about their relationship, as unhealthy as it is, the scene I struggled with the most was when Jacqueline must confront the vampire and make a choice between her life and his. Full disclosure, it took me roughly three months to write that scene, and a poem written by my writing mentor, Lucy A. Snyder convincing me to kill the vampire.
SMW: Our friendship started at SHU, but blossomed in New Orleans, and I know that city means a lot to both of us for similar and different reasons. As it’s one of the primary settings in your book, can you tell us a little bit about your connection with the Crescent City?
MRL: You know, although New Orleans isn’t my hometown, I think of it as my adopted home. It has always treated me right and made me feel welcome. The first time I visited the city, I was nineteen. I met a woman at a college keg party, and after talking to her for over two hours about what we were reading, our favorite books, and what was on our TBR piles, we realized that a lot of the books we had been discussing were set in New Orleans, including Anne Rice’s Vampire Chronicles and Tom Robbins’ Jitterbug Perfume.  So, we talked about going there together. Like most conversations you have while drunk at a party, I didn’t take it very seriously, but the following week she asked me when I wanted to go. We drove down to Louisiana a few weeks later at the beginning of Christmas break. I can still remember the way the air clung to my skin as we pulled into the city. So, books, films and music tempted me to New Orleans for as long as I can remember, but a flamboyant feminist hippie named Heather convinced me to follow my dreams and visit the city.

I’m also fascinated by the history of the gens de couleur libres, and the history of race relations in New Orleans. It was (and often still is) very complicated during and after slavery, but very different than other parts of the United States. Obviously, racism was still an issue, but the class structure in New Orleans allowed for mixed-race people to occupy professions and privileged statuses that simply were not available to other people of color in the United States. Depending on how wealthy a landowner was, the children conceived under the institution of plaçage, a recognized extralegal system in French and Spanish slave colonies that permitted European men to enter into civil unions with women of African, Native American and mixed-race descent, would sometimes be sent to France to be educated. These unions allowed the women, or placées, and their children to own property and in some cases provided freedom if they were enslaved.
And, New Orleans has some of the darkest history in the United States – pirates, voodoo, ghosts, and vampires – making it a beautifully haunted city waiting to share its secrets with you.
SMW: Jacqueline is such a fantastically strong, intelligent, and emotionally versatile character, and when we’ve talked about vampires over the past couple of years, our discussion usually moves toward the topic of how women in supernatural stories are drawn to the monster, even though they know that eventually, their love is a death wish (or bite, in this case). How did you navigate the path of violence against women in this book, and what commentary do you think you left readers with in regard to falling in love/lust with monsters?
MRL: I love a good vampire romance. The bloodier and more erotic, the better. Let’s not kid ourselves, vampires are sexy. And, in modern vampire romances, they have become the ideal partners even though they are still extremely territorial and controlling when it comes to the bodies and minds of their sexual partners. The threat of violence and the promise of death are ever present, especially during sex.
Initially, I fully intended to write a novel in that vein (pun intended), and I wanted Jacqueline to become a vampire. This novel began its life as a short story and when I first wrote it, I believed that for her to gain freedom and claim the power she deserved, she needed Carlos to rescue her and make her like him. At the time I wrote the short story, more than fifteen years ago, I was completely conscious of the connection between slavery and vampirism, which is why I think I began writing it. I was younger. A different person. Some of the challenges that were ahead of me weren’t even on my radar. I honestly believe that Jacqueline developed as a stronger character because of the challenges I overcame in my own life. My personal circumstances and complicated romantic relationships made me realize that first and foremost, no one was coming to rescue me, but secondly, I realized I didn’t need to be rescued.
Monsters can be very attractive, especially if you don’t view yourself as being “enough” for mainstream culture. If you look different, think differently, and have the audacity to share your opinions as a woman of color on subjects reserved for discussions between white males only (horror films, classic literature, comic books, Star Trek, Star Wars, Doctor Who, or anything else cool, interesting and nerdy basically), people may recognize your contributions, or they will politely (or not so politely) tell you to shut up. Monsters occupy very interesting spaces within the margins of texts. At least, they did for a very long time. Monsters represented the racialized other, rampant female sexuality, something to fear, a cautionary tale about succumbing to your darker desires. And now, they take boring teenaged girls to prom and marry them.

This relatively new trend (or trope) in fiction made me stop and think about the message(s) being sent to women (young and old) about what is acceptable behavior in a romantic partner. When female characters had sex or were fed upon by vampires in the past, the automatic assumption was that this was an unwanted sexual experience, a violent act, rape. Then, when female characters who lived on the fringes started having sex with vampires, it was viewed as a kink that opened the floodgates to variety of alternative lifestyles. But now, when the girl next door (even if she is the chose one), decides to fall in love with a vampire or other dangerous monster, we have a vey different kind of narrative. A narrative that tells women that being stalked, hunted, possessed and consumed is the way to feel loved and desired, is a very dangerous message in my opinion.
The fact that vampires are depicted as potential husbands and boyfriends made me realize that I needed Carlos to be a true monster. He needed to be a cautionary tale, not a prize to be won. Happily-ever-after with a vampire usually means death for the object of desire. Last I checked, murder isn’t sexy no matter how handsome your prom date happens to be.
SMW: Carlos Diego Velasquez. The man we love to hate. Now I don’t know if it’s his character in general, the fact that he’s a glutton for violence, or the fact that I met him in my early 30s during the era of the Me Too Movement, but this bloodsucker really, really left a bad taste in my mouth (in a good way, of course). He’s charming, attractive, wealthy, and a smooth talker…but he’s also controlling, manipulative, and he attempts to bind Jacqueline metaphorically and trap her in a different type of slavery. This, of course, speaks to a lot of different notions: relationships, exchange of powers between races and genders, and of course, what privilege allows us to do. Can you speak to your vision with this character? In terms of a big picture, what did you want his arc to do?
MRL: I’m glad that you disliked Carlos. Vampires, regardless of what they have come to represent in popular paranormal romances, are monsters. They are reanimated corpses with impressive bank accounts and expensive wardrobes, and they feed on human blood to maintain their unnatural existences. They stalk/hunt their prey and use them to satisfy their hungers, sexual or otherwise. I didn’t want him to be Jacqueline’s savior. He isn’t supposed to be the hero of anyone’s story but his own.
He most definitely loves violence, but he’s also good at hiding the fact that he wants to ravage everyone with a pulse within a five-mile radius. To be an excellent predator, you have to convince your prey that it is safe to be near you. Convince them that there’s nowhere else they’d rather be than by your side. And then, once you’ve lulled them into a state of trust, they’re ready for you to take advantage of them. One of my favorite lines in book is an observation Jacqueline makes about vampires.
“Vampires are terrifying creatures, driven by an insatiable cannibalistic hunger and murderous urges. I was glad to have one at my side when I left the safety of the Lynches’ house.”

 Safety is an illusion for slaves that depends solely on the whims of their owners. Despite her feelings of attraction, she’s completely aware that Carlos is a monster. Almost every man in her life is a monster. She doesn’t exactly trust him, but at this point in the story, he hasn’t touched her. He’s made his desire for her clear and flirted with her, but he hasn’t threatened her physically which isn’t true of Lynch and Jimmy. A vampire makes better company than a slave owner in Jacqueline’s world.
I wanted Carlos and the other monsters in the novel to be less horrific than the slave owners. As Tananarive Due states so succinctly in Horror Noire: A History of Black Horror (2019), “Black history is black horror.” I wanted to be perfectly clear that slavery and the people who benefitted from it are the villains. I wanted to avoid the accepted trope of vampires being romantic heroes. I wanted my vampire to be monstrous and I think I accomplished that.
Jacqueline needed to rescue herself. For that to happen, she can accept help from the monsters, but none of them are allowed to save her. Carlos Diego Velasquez isn’t a romantic hero that promises a happily-ever-after. He’s the first man you fall in love with who ends up betraying you by sleeping with your best friend. Except his idea of an apology is to try to rape and murder you, because you don’t love him enough to overlook his shortcomings.
SMW: In regard to genre, this book can be found in a bunch of homes: horror, dark fantasy, supernatural romance, a slave narrative, historical horror etc. What is the benefit of writing a book that speaks on so many levels? And what kind of research did you have to do to write it?
MRL: I suppose cross-genre fiction appeals to a wider audience of readers. Some people were hesitant to read the book because they assumed it was straight horror. In their minds, they have a very limited view of the horror genre and can’t get past the idea of being scared or freaking out about gore or violence or whatever puts them off about horror. So, when I explained that the horror in the novel really comes from historical accounts of slavery and the narcissism of the vampire, that seemed to put them at ease. People who NEVER read anything horror related keep contacting me to tell me how much they’re enjoying the book.
I did a lot of research for this novel in order to make sure my representation of slavery was authentic in all its horror. Some of the scenes of violence come directly from first-hand accounts of slaves. There are a lot of images of lynching out there if you want to give yourself nightmares, and plenty of print media from the time depicting the historical representation of blacks that made them seem inhuman. Some of the torture devices used to punish slaves were similar to ones used on witches, and I couldn’t help seeing a connection between the abuse and genocide experienced by these two very different groups of people.
Yes, there’s a lot of horror in this novel, but it is the horror of a history we should be ashamed of and never stop telling. Many of the terrible things that happen to Jacqueline and the over slaves in the novel happened to real people living in the antebellum South.
One of my reviewers mentioned that the scenes of supernatural horror felt like a respite after reading about the horrors of slavery. That statement alone made me realize I had accomplished my goal.


SMW: There are themes of dream work, folk magic, and masks woven throughout the text, and your descriptions of herbs, flowers, food, and drink are palpable, not to mention beautiful moments of imagery. What is your own relationship with magic, and how did it influence your writing?
MRL: Your questions are really making me think, and I appreciate that. But this question is really making me think about magic in terms of my own origin story. I mean, I don’t there’s a wrong answer, but I want to speak about magic in a way that doesn’t disrespect other people’s beliefs. And, that was something I thought about A LOT while writing the book.
Like a lot of kids, I was encouraged to believe in magic – Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy – and for as long as I can remember, folk tales and fairy tales were part of the background noise in my household. My grandmother, Dora, read a lot and her favorite stories were ghost stories, but she read a lot of horror and collected Stephen King’s novels. She enjoyed telling stories as much as she liked reading them and she delighted in being able to scare the shit out of you.
I don’t know a lot about my family history, but my understanding is that part of my family comes from the Black Forest region in Germany where apparently a lot of fairy tales originated. I loved fairy tales as a kid and remember the Disney versions being very different from the ones I was told. There weren’t a lot of happy endings in the versions I knew from childhood. My curiosity about the differences in the way stories were told led me to do some research and I wrote some of my academic work about fairy tales in college. And, I read as many fairytales as I could get my hands on. I’m particularly fond of Russian folktales and the more X-rated versions of Little Red Riding Hood.
For the most part, the people in my family believe in the supernatural and many of us have had encounters with ghosts. The ghost of the man who used to live in my grandparents’ house is part of our story as a family. Their house was haunted, and people outside of our family have witnessed the hauntings in that house. My mom told me a story about an aunt of hers who healed a burn on her hand just by touching it and saying a few words. My mom swears the burn just disappeared. The women in my family are smart, creative, skilled and strong. I’m certain some of us would have been burned at the stake as witches back in the day, because we all have some very strong opinions and don’t mind sharing them.

When I was a kid and first saw representations of voodoo and other magic systems that came from African traditions, I saw them as a form of empowerment rather than something to fear. Magic has just always been part of my life in one way or another, and it was presented to me as something normal.
Did anyone in my family practice magic when I was growing up? Probably not. At least, not in my mother’s family. I never met my biological father, but apparently his mother practiced voodoo and was the person people asked for magical advice in her community. My mom said that my biological father was really into tarot cards, talismans, and “all kinds of weird shit.” So, when I started reading tarot cards, playing with a Ouija board, and put black curtains over my windows in high school, she wondered if those interests came from him.
I don’t know. Do you gain an interest and understanding of magic through nature or nurture? I’m still fascinated by magic and how people continue to incorporate it into their everyday lives. Ritual is important. Tradition is important. I think stories about magic connect us to the past and help us gain a better understanding of our origins. All stories have a little magic in them if you know where to look.
SMW: As a fellow movie buff who gets most of her movie recommendations from you (side note: we need another Buffy marathon, soon!) what are some vampire films that you think are underrated that people need to know about?
MRL: I’ll watch Buffy anytime you like. I would also suggest checking out a vampire film a lot of people don’t know about, Ganja & Hess (1973). This vampire film has an almost all black cast, with a black screenwriter and director, Bill Gunn. Duane Jones, the actor who played Ben in Romero’s Night of the Living Dead, plays Dr. Hess Green who becomes a vampire after being stabbed by an ancient dagger. I’ve only ever seen the film once, because for a very long time it was impossible to find and then you could only see a terribly butchered studio print that connected it with the Blaxploitation films of the 1970s. In fact, I think the only existing print of the original film was in a museum until Kino Lorber released it on DVD in the late 1990s. It’s probably one of the most creative interpretations of the vampire myth and it is a beautiful art film that vampire film buffs should see. Like most vampire fiction, vampirism is a delivery system for groundbreaking commentary on sex, religion, and African American identity. Check it out.
Also, if you haven’t seen The Wisdom of Crocodiles (1998), I highly recommend it. Jude Law is a vampire, but you don’t realize that’s what he is until we get further into the narrative. It has a wonderful serial killer vibe, and maybe you didn’t hear me, but JUDE LAW IS A VAMPIRE.
I have a lot of favorites when it comes to vampire films, but one of my favorite recent vampire films is Jim Jarmusch’s Only Lovers Left Alive. It’s smart and funny and has an amazing cast. And, it depicts vampires in a way that made perfect sense – they would be boring. Tom Hiddleston’s character is obsessed with vinyl and music, and Tilda Swinton shows up with a suitcase full of books. They’re like middle-aged Goths or Punks who never shut up about the things that interest them the most. I loved it. And, who doesn’t want to watch Tom Hiddleston suck on a blood popsicle?

 SMW: Who are you currently reading and what are you presently working on?
MRL: Honestly, I haven’t been reading much. I’ve been listening to a lot of audiobooks, but I’ve been relistening to some of my favorites and plowing through paranormal romance series, like Laurell K. Hamilton’s Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter series, Jeaniene Frost’s Night Huntress series, Deborah Harkness’s All Souls Trilogy.... Are you seeing a pattern here? I’ve been consuming vampire fiction at an alarming rate, but I’m considering this consumption research. I’ve been writing about vampires a lot more lately, and I’m working on my own paranormal romance series. In order to write within a particular genre, you should spend a lot of time getting to know and understand it. So, at the moment, it’s all vampires all the time. I’m sure some people think that’s all I read and write about, but that just isn’t true. I read and write about werewolves, demons, and witches, too.
 Author Bio:
Michelle R. Lane writes dark speculative fiction about women of color who battle their inner demons while falling in love with monsters. Her work includes elements of fantasy, horror, romance, and occasionally erotica. In January 2015, Michelle graduated with an MFA in Writing Popular Fiction from Seton Hill University. Her short fiction appears in the anthologies Dark Holidays, and Terror Politico: A Screaming World in Chaos. Her debut novel, Invisible Chains, is available from Haverhill House Publishing and Amazon. She lives in South Central Pennsylvania with her son.
Link to my blog, Girl Meets Monster: https://michellerlane.com/Link to my Amazon author page: https://www.amazon.com/Michelle-Renee-Lane/e/B07Q7XSJR5?ref_=dbs_p_pbk_r00_abau_000000