Write Like a Girl!
Meant to post something for Women in Horror Month (ie. February), but I was busy doing the writing thing and "living the writing life", as my friend "FractureMinded" on Plurk calls it. Perhaps next year, when hopefully I've really put down roots as an author and really started to make a name for myself, I'll have some carefully crafted words on the subject to share with you.
In the past few weeks, I've written four new stories (well, one of them a narrative poem, another a new piece drawing on the work of August Derleth, a third finished just today which features a young HPL, a fourth that I got the idea for...the day after it's original market closed, yet another opportunity presented itself), typed and sent one of them, revised two previously published pieces from 2015 to send to a couple markets open to reprints, to say nothing of sending out two new works to two markets looking for fresh new material. I certainly keep busy, and I amaze my co-workers at my day job at the sheer amount of stuff I crank out. And I amaze myself as well: the ideas are pouring out of my head these days.
My inspiration got a huge shot of vitamin I one week ago: I took part in "Write Like A Girl!", a fund-raiser reading of six women horror authors at the Witch House in Salem, Massachusetts, hosted by the lovely ladies of FunDead Productions, with the ticket sales going to an organization that provides legal aid to girls in Africa falsely accused of witchcraft. A worthy cause, and the evening was intensely creepy and delightful. I read my "Paper Masks", which you can find in A Terrible Thing, a King in Yellow tale featuring a young government assistance case worker who turns over a leaf that reveals deeper and darker things in the world. I'd read this in Worcester, MA, at Annie's Book Shop, at my first ever public reading, and it's a story especially close to my heart, since I've been on the other side of government-related paperwork, and my heart appreciates the patience and hard work of the folk who assist those who have to deal with that paperwork. This event was...perhaps not a dream come true, but something that delighted me: I'd been to the Witch House with my folks, for a ghost story reading. Loved the atmosphere and the sheer lived-in quality of the place. Now, it was my turn to be the one providing some of the shivery tales.
Your author, the evening of ye reading (well, afterwards, hence the tired look in my eyes). This was what I wore, and it seemed fitting!
In the past few weeks, I've written four new stories (well, one of them a narrative poem, another a new piece drawing on the work of August Derleth, a third finished just today which features a young HPL, a fourth that I got the idea for...the day after it's original market closed, yet another opportunity presented itself), typed and sent one of them, revised two previously published pieces from 2015 to send to a couple markets open to reprints, to say nothing of sending out two new works to two markets looking for fresh new material. I certainly keep busy, and I amaze my co-workers at my day job at the sheer amount of stuff I crank out. And I amaze myself as well: the ideas are pouring out of my head these days.
My inspiration got a huge shot of vitamin I one week ago: I took part in "Write Like A Girl!", a fund-raiser reading of six women horror authors at the Witch House in Salem, Massachusetts, hosted by the lovely ladies of FunDead Productions, with the ticket sales going to an organization that provides legal aid to girls in Africa falsely accused of witchcraft. A worthy cause, and the evening was intensely creepy and delightful. I read my "Paper Masks", which you can find in A Terrible Thing, a King in Yellow tale featuring a young government assistance case worker who turns over a leaf that reveals deeper and darker things in the world. I'd read this in Worcester, MA, at Annie's Book Shop, at my first ever public reading, and it's a story especially close to my heart, since I've been on the other side of government-related paperwork, and my heart appreciates the patience and hard work of the folk who assist those who have to deal with that paperwork. This event was...perhaps not a dream come true, but something that delighted me: I'd been to the Witch House with my folks, for a ghost story reading. Loved the atmosphere and the sheer lived-in quality of the place. Now, it was my turn to be the one providing some of the shivery tales.
Your author, the evening of ye reading (well, afterwards, hence the tired look in my eyes). This was what I wore, and it seemed fitting!
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