Loren Rhoads's Blog, page 60

Behind “Mothflame”

Mothflame originally appeared in Not One of Us and was reprinted in my chapbook Ashes & Rust.

While I was at the Clarion Science Fiction and Fantasy Workshop, I went through a novel that I just couldn’t finish writing and pulled out my favorite scene.  In it, a rock’n’roll singer is methodically throwing wine bottles against a white wall, hoping to express his anger and grief when his young companion dies of an inevitable OD.

I loved the scene.  It was the piece I would miss the most when I abandoned the novel, which had gotten huge and unwieldy and could not be separated from its source material.  I’d written myself into quicksand and the only way out was to dig out the scene and write a new story around it.

That’s how I wrote the story “Mothflame.”  The title seems to refer to Ysanne, the singer (who became female in the story — I think she looks a lot like Tilda Swinton), but it really refers to Chris, the androgynous first-person narrator, who is Ysanne’s opposite.

All these years later, I am really proud of the story.  The scene-setting is particularly nice.  I adore Aden, the doomed young model, and his wardrobe.  The descriptions of the concert come very close to shows I’ve seen.

I’ve been thinking about all of this because I’m experimenting with Wattpad, a site where authors can post their work for free.  Mothflame is up there now, if you’d like to take a look at it.  Here’s the link: http://www.wattpad.com/59707988-mothflame.

Please let me know what you think, either here or at Wattpad.

It takes an army to learn to write

I have been blessed with an army of writing teachers.  I’m sure I’ve forgotten some here, but these were so important to my growth as a person and a writer that their names are engraved on my heart.  Let this be my thank you to them.

Eleanor Perrone, who taught my first creative writing class at Flushing High School and allowed me to “student teach” a session of the class my senior year. I watched the other students tear each other apart, looking for a crumb of approval for being so vicious.  I felt it was my job to encourage, rather than condemn.  Thanks to Ellie, I believed that it’s possible for everyone to tell a good story and learn to write.


The Flint Area Writers accepted me when I was still in high school and taught me to give and receive criticism gracefully.  I’d especially like to thank Trilby Plants, Fran Bacus, and Diane Carey.


At the University of Michigan Department of English, I studied with George Garrett, Alison Hagy, Tish Ezekiel, and William Hollinger, Jr.  From them, I learned about literary fiction and how to avoid writing what you know, just like every other student living in a dorm room.  They made me want to live, in order to have something interesting to write about.


The Clarion Writers Workshop taught me about the hard work of writing and revising on a deadline.  My teachers were Algis Burdys, Joyce Thompson, John Kessel, Thomas Disch, Kate Wilhelm, and Damon Knight.


At the Kansas University Science Fiction Writing Workshop, James Gunn told me that I couldn’t write the sort of stories I wanted to write and expect to become the next Ray Bradbury.  Either I could drop writing about queer characters and stick to the mainstream, or the best I could hope for was to become the next J. G. Ballard.  That still seems like a worthy goal.


Jane Underwood taught my first introduction to personal essay class in 2002.  She wouldn’t let me drop out when my brother died and I had to go home for his funeral.  She said the most important thing I could do at that painful time was to write — and she was exactly correct.


The Red Room Writers Society allowed me the time and space to write when my daughter was an infant.  I’m particularly grateful to Ivory Madison and Venus Klinger, who helped me to remember my joy in writing.


I was blessed to be a member of The Paramental Appreciation Society, which held me accountable to literary standards on a monthly basis for four years.  I learned more than I can say from Claudius Reich, Seth Lindberg, Lilah Wild, A.M. Muffaz, and Mason Jones.  I think I miss the writers group most of all.

Who taught you what you needed to know?

The Red Room Writers Society

I met Ivory Madison in October 2004 when I was a new mom with a colicky preemie.  Before the baby came, I nourished fantasies of spinning out novels while she slept.  Afterward, I learned to use naptime to shower or try to pick up or wash the endless loads of laundry.  Ivory saved my sanity with her Red Room Writers Society.

Once a week, I left my daughter with her father and drove across San Francisco through the early winter darkness to a mansion on the edge of Alamo Square.  There, Ivory welcomed writers with hors d’oeuvres and a selection of teas.  She made the lovely place feel special.

After a brief check-in, we writers settled in around a long wooden conference table and wrote.  It was heavenly.  For a couple hours a week, I was a grown-up with a mission, with a headful of words ready to spill through my fingers onto a screen.  I managed to draft an essay a week.  That book became Wish You Were Here: Adventures in Cemetery Travel.

See, having the date to write was huge.  I knew the quiet time was coming — and I’d paid for it — so I stole time at home to prepare for it.  I gathered my research.  I pulled together my photos.  I got myself mentally organized so that when the Red Room evening rolled around, I was ready.

Even better than the weekly Writers Society meetings were the monthly writing marathons.  We met for a lavish continental breakfast, provided by the mansion, wrote for several glorious hours, then Ivory ran out to fetch lunch from Arlequin.  The writers would chat during the lunchbreak, then it was back to work for a few more hours.

Those longer stretches were paradise.  I used them to edit the last couple issues of Morbid Curiosity magazine, to write book proposals, to copyedit my novel, to put together a chapbook.  Sometimes I even challenged myself to write an essay an hour.  Having hours at a time was the best kind of luxury.

Ivory helped me remember what it was that I wanted to do with my life.  She gave me the space and time to do it.  For that, I will always be grateful.

Farewell, Red Room

There’s still no announcement on the home page, but I got an email from Red Room’s CEO Thursday with the news that Red Room is going away next Tuesday.

I’ve been a member of the Red Room site since my first blog post on January 18, 2008.  That was the day I announced my first book signing:  at Dark Delicacies with Maria Alexander and Christa Faust to sign Sins of the Sirens.

Red Room was envisioned as a site “Where The Writers Are”: a place where writers of every genre could blog and network, where they could have a home page that would feature their reviews, events, news, and that they could update themselves.

In a world ruled by Livejournal, Red Room was a revelation.  Of course, compared to WordPress, it was clunky, cluttered, and had features that never worked after the last update went live years ago. I’m sad to see it go, because I’ll miss the human component, but I’m relieved not to feel guilty for blogging less there are life got busier elsewhere on the web.

A lot has happened to me in the 7 years I blogged on Red Room:

I posted 343 blog posts
I won a life-altering trip to the IBPA’s Publishing University — for writing about hiring an editor.
I won a number of books through Red Room giveaways, including Ariel Gore’s The End of Eve, which I’m reading now.
I met some terrific, supportive writers, including Jane P. Wilson, Mary Wilkinson, and Jennifer Kathleen Gibbons, to mention a scant handful.
I had innumerable interactions with Huntington Sharp, who made the Red Room experience professional and enjoyable.

While I blogged at the Red Room, Sins of the Sirens was published by Dark Arts Books, Morbid Curiosity Cures the Blues was published by Scribner, Wish You Were Here was published by Western Legends, The Haunted Mansion Project: Year 2 was published by Damnation Books, and As Above, So Below was published by Black Bed Sheet Books.

It’s been a wild ride.  I’ve grown a lot as a writer and as an editor.  I’ve gained a lot of confidence because of the support and encouragement of the Red Room staff and writers.

I’ve gone ahead and opened a Wattpad account: http://www.wattpad.com/user/LorenRhoads.  I put a sample short story up there Friday morning.

I don’t think I will migrate my Red Room blog over, though.  It holds vestiges of my past and I’m all about moving forward.  This blog — Morbid Is as Morbid Does — will continue to be my primary blogging home.

However, if you want more, you can follow me on Twitter @morbidloren or friend me on Facebook at loren.rhoads.5.  I’ll still blog weekly at cemeterytravel.com, and monthly at the Western Legends blog and Scoutie Girl.

 

Blogging every day

Inspired by Tonia Brown’s Month of Blogging Month-Long Blog Challenge, I put up 30-some blog posts last month.  Most of them are here on Morbid Is, but some of them are over on Cemetery Travel.

So, with the help of WordPress’s scheduler, I was able to blog every day of June.  It was nice to be in Japan on vacation and not have to worry about trying to blog from my iPhone (an exercise in frustration) or having to drag my MacBook around, hoping for a steady wifi connection.

Still, it was weird to see the blog posts going up without my intervention and to see which posts caught people’s attention and which didn’t without being able to post them on Facebook or otherwise draw attention to them myself, beyond the automated features that post them to my Facebook and twitter.

I played with putting all the blog posts up every morning at 9 a.m. Pacific.  That’s maybe not the best time for readers on the West Coast, but that’s lunchtime in the East.  I’m going to have to experiment with timing and see if some things hit better at different times, but I want another series so that I can see that it’s not the topic that pulls more people in, it’s the time of publication.

The thing that worked best for drawing more readers to my blog was having one of the writers I really respect mention one of the posts on her Facebook.  A good hundred of her followers came over to read what I had to stay.  That was truly cool.

In the end, I’m not convinced that people really want to hear what I think every day.  I know I’ve stopped following some blogs I liked because the authors posted too often or their posts were too long and I couldn’t keep up.  I don’t want to overwhelm anyone.

On the other hand, I wonder though if it’s good to publish regularly *because* people don’t read every day.  The more I put up, the more days I write, the more chances people have to stumble across Morbid Is.

I think I’m going to ease back in July just because I have some big projects I’d like to get finished this summer — and someday my novel is going to come back from the editor.  I’d like to manage a schedule where I’m posting something every day, whether it’s here, Cemetery Travel, the Western Legends blog, the pieces on Scoutie Girl, or my poor neglected Red Room blog. I think all those venues reach different people, although I know there are some of you who follow more than one of them.  (You personally rock.)

Tonia’s talking about another Blog Challenge in August, though.  I might be up for that.  I’ll be traveling again, but I have another good series about writing in mind.  Stay tuned.

If you’re a blogger, how do you feel about posting every day?  Is it necessary?

If you’re a blog reader, how often do you like to read your favorite blogs?  Do you check in every day?

The Char behind Charred Remains

Click on the cover (by Zoe Humphries) to learn more about the book.

I met Char Hardin through the wonderful Ladies of Horror group on Facebook, which was designed as a place for horror-writing women to network.  Char invited me to participate in the first Night of Storytellers on her Blog Talk Radio podcast, so I asked if I could interview her here.

First off, you should know how amazingly generous Char is.  She has done thoroughly helpful podcasts about how to get started podcasting yourself, how to promote your independently published books, as well as reaching out to many struggling new authors and artists.  It’s been an honor and a privilege to get to know her.

Tonight (June 30), Char is having a book release party on Charred Remains for the first mini-book in her new fantasy serial, Ogres of the Hickory Cottage.

She’ll be giving away a copy of my novel As Above, So Below,  as well as a bunch of other goodies, so tune in tonight at 6:30 Central.

Loren:  How do you describe the Charred Remains show?

Char Hardin: Charred Remains is a horror variety talk show. It was set up to be once a week, but last year I averaged 3 shows a week, sometimes four. My regular night is Thursday at 9 p.m. Central at www.blogtalkradio.com/charred_remains.

Sometimes I have special shows on Saturday nights. June 7th was an experiment.  I invited 15 authors to join me on Charred Remains for a special show called A Night of Storytellers. Thank you, Loren, for being one of the 15 other authors who participated on the first show.

(Char did another Night of Storytellers on June 28 with 8 authors.)

LR: What inspired you to start podcasting?

CH:  I started writing reviews the end of 2011. The website that featured my reviews was big on podcasters. I caught the fever. I wanted to learn how to conduct podcasts and produce some of my own ideas. I started the first “Girls Night Out” podcast on the website. I invited a few ladies involved with indie horror and we hung out chatting about work, off-time, politics… We pretty much covered everything in that first show. After that, my shows just took off.

LR: How long have you been doing this show?

CH: Charred Remains was created in December 2012. I will be celebrating its 100th Blog Talk Radio show July 31st of this year. My official podcast number is 150 shows.

LR: Has the format or the process changed over time?

CH: I changed from recording my shows using a Skype recorder to being broadcasted on Blog Talk Radio.com. I like the convenience of live radio, as opposed to recording and having to spend long amounts of time editing and perfecting any errors made during the recording of the show.

LR: What is your favorite part of doing Charred Remains?

CH: The absolute best thing is meeting people involved with horror, my favorite genre. Whether they are involved with film, music, books, art, FX, etc., doesn’t matter, I love having them on my show. I am a reviewer/writer second, but I am fan first.

I am a quiet interviewer, because I get so caught up with what my guests are sharing on my show that I often fade into the background and give my guest(s) the platform they need to promote their careers. It’s not that I am a lazy interviewer; I just get caught up with what they are saying. I am a people person and enjoy meeting new people each week on my show. Every guest has a story and I want to hear it as much as my audience does. For me, the absolute best thing about podcasting is listening to what my guests have to say.

The second best thing is sharing their words and work with other like-minded horror fans.

LR: If people are new to your podcast, where should they start?

CH: Go to my Charred Remains Facebook page and look around. If you are interested in listening to the show, go to www.blogtalkradio.com/charred_remains and dig in.

LR: What kind of fun things do you have lined up for the future?

CH: I was recently interviewed by Jackie Chin of Zombiepalooza. She and I talked about having podcast hosts gather for a Radio Hosts Night Out, so that’s in the works. Each week is someone talking about all things horror on the show.

Thank you, Loren, for the interview and for sharing me with your readers. I hope they enjoy the show.

LR: The pleasure’s mine!

Useful links:

Charred Remains on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/CharredRemainsPodcast?ref=hl

Blog Talk Radio: www.blogtalkradio.com/charred_remains

Char’s blog: www.charhardin.blogspot.com

Twitter: @CHAR_HARDIN

Crisis of Confidence

The hardest part of writing, for me, is dealing with a recurring crushing lack of confidence.  You’d think that I’ve been here enough times before, I could just get over it.  It shakes me every time.

See, whenever something good happens — something sells, gets nominated for a prize, receives a good review — I always attribute that to luck.  I’m lucky that day.  Whenever something bad happens — losing an award, getting a rejection, not hearing any response — I take responsibility.  It’s my fault because I’m not good enough or didn’t work hard enough or lobby the right people at the right time.  Success is attributable to someone else, but failure is all mine.

Now I’m waiting to get a novel back from its editor.  The book has passed the first hurdle already:  the editor liked it enough to offer me a contract.  Now I’m just waiting to get his changes on it.  If I make those changes to his satisfaction, the book should be out in spring next year.

I have to finish the book.  I’m so close that I can’t give up now.  Still, I’m scared.  What if he wants huge changes: a more likable protagonist, fewer points of view, a more linear narrative?  What if, in the months since he bought the book, he’s decided he hates it?  What if he can’t see any way to fix it?

What if I’m not good enough to do the work?

Writing is easy.  Stringing words together is easy.  The waiting is hard.

I can’t wait to get to work.

Weekly Photo Challenge: Contrasts

Last weekend, we wandered through the Shibuya neighborhood, looking for something to eat.  My husband Mason was on one of his epic quests, pinballing from one menu to another, looking for the perfect takeout meal.

It’s one of those quirks of traveling with Mason that I have had many years to get used to.  I’m the sort of person who can look at any menu anywhere and find something on it that tempts me.  Some of that is because I’m not especially picky.  In contrast, years ago, Mason dragged me all over Rome, looking for a meal on a Sunday afternoon, until I collapsed on a curb in tears, unable to take another step without a bite to eat.

I try not to let my blood sugar drop that low these days.

Our daughter hasn’t had the same practice in dealing with her dad.  “What’s wrong with him?” she whispered to me, furious.  “Why can’t he just pick someplace?”

In this instance, it was because I wasn’t hungry after the epic bowl of ramen I’d devoured at lunch.  Sorrell had gobbled up a teriyaki chicken crepe earlier in the evening while we watched the taping of a TV show through a window.  After that, Mason didn’t want to take us into a restaurant where we’d occupy a table but not order a sufficient amount of food.  He was hoping for some kind of takeout, preferably tonkatsu.

The problem, of course, is that Tokyo isn’t a snacking-while-walking city.  There’s takeout food in every Family Mart or Lawson’s on every corner, but none of the restaurants have takeaway windows.

Mason led us in widening circles through the crowds of Shibuya in a futile search for something Japan does not have.

***

This post was inspired by the WordPress Photo Challenge of the Week: http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_photo_challenge/contrasts/

 

Tour of Union Cemetery this weekend

The Grand Army of the Republic plot at Union Cemetery

In 1850, sailors discovered that Redwood Creek emptied into the San Francisco Bay in a natural deep-water channel. Within a year, men began to log the redwood trees of the Santa Cruz Mountains. A village originally called Redwood Landing took root beside the creek, where the trees could be milled for boards to build the Gold Rush towns springing up everywhere.

Early in 1859, a cemetery association purchased land along Woodside Road. They oversaw the cemetery’s design and sold burial plots, then deeded the cemetery to the Governor of California — and his successors — as trustees. This led to California’s first cemetery legislation, as the government didn’t wish to be made responsible for every graveyard in the state.

The Union Cemetery’s name “reflects the controversy that erupted in the Civil War,” according to the historical plaque placed in the cemetery. “Founders of the cemetery strongly opposed the secessionist sentiment that threatened the nation’s unity.” The GAR plot in the Union Cemetery was the only burial space to be purchased by the Grand Army of the Republic in California.

Among those buried in the cemetery are:

Approximately 40 veterans of the Civil War, along with a pair of wives and “a drinking buddy.”
Charles Benjamin, survivor of more than 30 major Civil War battles.
Members of the Masons, the Odd Fellows, the Improved Order of Red Men, and the United Ancient Order of Druids
…..And a host of local characters.

Docents from the Historic Union Cemetery Association will be joining us as guides for this special tour, tailoring their stories to the morbid sensibilities of Obscura Society members. This walk was organized specially for the Society by our resident Bay Area tombstone historian, Loren Rhoads, author of Wish You Were Here: Adventures in Cemetery Travel.

A portion of ticket proceeds from this walk will be donated to the Historic Union Cemetery Association to help them continue their work with this historic cemetery.

Death on a headstone in Union Cemetery

DETAILS:

Date: Saturday, June 28, 10-11 a.m.
Meet at the cemetery gate at 316 Woodside Road, Redwood City.
Tour starts promptly at 10 a.m. Please allow time for parking.
Wear comfortable shoes for standing. This cemetery is flat and easy to get around.
Bring water and dress in layers suitable for the potentially warm weather.

Space is limited. Advance tickets suggested. Walk-up tickets may not be available.

Here’s the link for tickets: http://www.atlasobscura.com/events/obscura-society-sf-expedition-to-union-cemetery-in-redwood-city

Writing Flashmob

I do Nanowrimo every year, the National Novel Writing Month in November.  Every year, the Bay Area office holds a “Night of Writing Dangerously,” where hundreds of writers come together for dinner and a writing marathon.  It’s a fundraiser for the Young Writers Program.

I wanted to go for years, but couldn’t afford a ticket.  Then my mom gave me a check for my birthday one year, so I could do something nice for myself. I treated myself to a creative night out.

There were things I liked about the evening:  sitting at a table full of companionable writers, all of us head-down over our laptops.  Working in a room filled with writers, all of us hard at work making things that didn’t exist before out of words.  Knowing that my admission was going to encourage young people to write.

Unfortunately, there were downsides that mean I may never go back again to another Night of Writing Dangerously.  Some could be fixed by the organizers, but I’m afraid some are intrinsic.  People just have different ideas of fun.

For instance, the cocktail reception before the doors opened meant that some people were going to spend more time being sick in the bathrooms than writing through the evening.  Then the organizers gave speeches during our writing time, instead of while we were eating.  I suspect they intended for us to socialize while we were eating, instead of listening to speeches about all the good our fundraising would do, but it was hard to concentrate during the working time, while amplified voices cheered our good works.  And there was a whole lot of silliness about word sprints and typing as fast as you could for prizes, lots of cheering and applause and chaos.

I had hoped to swim in a room full of inspired people shaping words into books.  I intended to write a record number of words (for me) in an evening.  I guess I’m antisocial enough to want to sit with a ballroom full of writers I don’t know, draw inspiration from their presence, but not actually have to interact with them.

Despite the disappointment, I’d still like to participate in a flashmob of writers some day.  Imagine all of us settling down in the public library or Justin Herman Plaza or the meadow beside the Conservatory of Flowers and just cranking out of masterpieces.  No expensive tickets, no speeches, BYOB, and everyone begin.