CONGRATULATIONS TO THE HORROR ZINE

The Horror Zine has once again won several categories in the Critters annual poll. I am proud to have had my work published by them more than once over the years and look forward to working with them in the near future. 

2 of My Stories Are Available on KIndle...Again.

 I've decided to reactivate two of my Kindle offerings from 2011. One is my short story/tribute to my mentor Annabelle McIlnay titled, "In Green, Remembered." It was published in the massive tome of an anthology, "Miseria's Chorale" in 2013. Obviously the rights reverted back to me several years ago.

The other one is a short story collection titles, "From the Bridge & Seven Other Short Stories" which features an eclectic mix of story types and styles.

"In Green, Remembered" can be downloaded here for just .99.

"From the Bridge" can be downloaded here for just $1.99.

Judging by my history and disaffection with Kindle, it's best to assume they're available for a limited timE.

From the "Wish I'd Thought of That...Wait, I kinda did" Files.

   

Plot: The zombie apocalypse is over. The humans have won. Life is back to normal. And Rip is bored as hell. It's not much of a life sitting in a call center in the poor town of Spanish Shanty, Florida, answering emails like a drone and listening to customer complaints.

Rip was ruler of a tiny kingdom in the Lazy River waterpark, killing zombies by day and making passionate love at night. He misses the danger, the camaraderie, and the blistering love he once knew. He longs to feel Santana—his trusty machet—in his hand, and Davia—the fiercest woman alive—in his arms once again. He can still picture it—life on the razor's edge—and he would do anything to get that feeling back. But what if Rip could get it back?

 

I am intrigued by the novel pictured and described above, the advertisement for which I received from the SFBC  in an email. I love the idea of a post-POST-Apocalyptic tale where all the so-called "cool stuff" has already taken place. And that call center employee angle? Inspired as all get-out! The very concept swells to bursting with the cynicism of a Christopher Nadeau tale! If only I had thought of something like this!

Oh, wait.

In a now out of print edition of Ghostlight Magazine (Summer 2011 to be precise) my short story "Cubicle Dwellers" was published. The plot concerned a man who had spent the so-called zombie apocalypse in a mental institution, too doped up to realize the world was falling apart outside his room. Once the meds wear off, he awakens to an orderly who is no longer alive but still insists on doing his job...badly, of course. Our hero escapes with his life only to find out the world has changed as the dead have risen and...gone back to work. What else can he do except the same thing? Two guesses who the real zombies are.

I've only written two zombie stories and that was the one that was more open about my disdain for the sub-genre. The other story was a much more serious historical tale that dealt with racism and the self-entitlement of the ruling class. Oh, and cannibalism because why not? Think of it as an homage to the Donner Party, or at least the myth surrounding them.

I'm not saying Adams' novel is like mine beyond the basic idea of the mundane aftermath of a supposedly extraordinary event. What I am saying is I wasn't seeing fiction like this nine years ago when I received rejection after rejection for not writing in a tiny box that was the only thing most magazine and anthology publishers seemed interested in putting out. Now that winking self-awareness is all the rage, books like this are flooding the market.

Don't get me wrong. It's a good thing. Very good. The best. You've never seen a better thing. Someone said to me, "Sir, do you think this good thing is very good?" 

Trumpian self-promotion aside, I am glad to see a long-needed approach to these types of stories appearing. I just want you to know it didn't happen in a vacuum and that some of us were writing them when the close-mindedness of those with the power to say yes or no acted as a barrier.

Now, let's go read "Apocalypse Yesterday" with its admittedly heavy-handed title and in the meantime I'm going to take another look at "Cubicle Dwellers" and think long and hard about what type of retooling it deserves~

 

In my Day, it was Called "Straight Fiction"

 I usually write genre fiction, meaning for those who are unacquainted, stories based around some fantastical element found in science fiction, fantasy, horror and magical realism. Although the latter is often a technique used in literary fiction, it is in actuality thinly disguised genre writing. 

When I took creative writing in college, my instructor's  only hard and fast rule for our first short story was to write what he referred to as "straight fiction." That meant fiction written about the real world sans magic or extrapolated technology and for the love of Faulkner, nothing with monsters in it. It did not mean fiction without gay or bisexual characters. Being the crafty little rebel I am, I naturally wrote a thinly disguised genre piece about the end of the world by changing the cause to an exploded chemical truck and the reality to a matter of perception. I got an "A" and wrote several well-received genre pieces after that.

I have written "straight fiction" over the years but have had no luck getting it published. My sensibilities are just too out there, methinks. So, I don't write it often. 

I started one today, however, because of the death of my high school teacher. I had been searching for him online for years and finally found a death notice on Facebook posted by a relative. It hit me pretty hard. My relationship with him was complicated; I went from utterly despising him to being incredibly fond of him over the space of three years. I really wanted to know how his life was and him to see mine. 

His "sudden" death has made that impossible. 

I haven't seen him in decades and I'm not sure why I am so deeply affected by his passing. Is it because I only found him once he was gone? Is it because he was only twelve years older than me? I don't know. Maybe this piece of "straight fiction" will help me understand and deal with these feelings. It seems to be the only avenue I have available to me. 

Here's an excerpt. Feel free to post your thoughts in the comment section:

Gerry.

The nickname makes me laugh. He never knew we called him that until I was about ready to graduate and when we found out it was his actual nickname, we had the type of giddy fun exclusive to teenage boys. But as I mentioned, that was much later.

My earliest memories of Gerry are vague and corporeal. He was a loud, angry voice in the next classroom over from the one where French class took place. His Billy Badass routine often punctured a hole right through the middle of our own teacher’s rather low-key delivery, causing us to all stop and listen as he berated the younger class for not being compliant while he attempted to teach them about the past.

There were times when even the French teacher joined in the laughter in our classroom as Gerry threatened his class with going to the principal’s office and other ultimately meaningless punishments. At one point, Gerry’s tirades became an expected part of our French class experience, our French teacher having lost the battle for our attention spans weeks prior. Frankly, her French was atrocious anyway. My mother, one of the few highly educated parents, was fluent in the language of half my ancestry and flew into a rage every time I shared with her the teacher’s horrifying pronunciations.

I had seen Gerry, of course. It was a small private school with a mere few hundred students. However, since we were graded sixth through twelfth, some of the teachers didn’t teach tenth and eleventh graders. His day would come though.

Getting Over the Need to Please Fanboys in Genre Writing:

 

While the assertions by many genre fiction fans that literary fiction is dead or dying are ridiculous, the fact that genre fiction has attained market dominance is most certainly not.  In fact, a 2014 report issued by the German Book Office (GBO) New York ranked fiction and “Juveniles” in its top two for 2012 and 2013, adding that, “Fiction and Juvenile genres continue to dominate the market, accounting for over 27 percent of new titles and editions in 2013.” That trend has shown no signs of slowing down either, especially considering the enormous popularity of fantasy-based television programming and pop culture monoliths such as the San Diego ComicCon.

  With the popularity of genre fiction has also come the inevitable feeling of exaggerated importance on the part of those who feel responsible for its market dominance; fanboys and fangirls.  In case you don’t know what those terms mean, the Oxford dictionary defines “fanboy” as an informal derogatory regarding, “A male fan, especially one who is obsessive about movies, comic books, or science fiction.”  The definition is incomplete, however, as its compilers overlook the genres of horror and fantasy.

With apologies to Persian Poet Muslih-ud-Din, I lamented that I was a fanboy until I started using social networking.  Yes, I’m a fan of all the genres mentioned above. Yes, I have definite and sometimes emphatic opinions about how others present my favorite characters and storylines.  However, as a writer who prefers to dwell in his own fictional universe, I am forced to bring my adoration to a screeching halt several feet from the border of irrationality so many fanboys (and girls) embrace as their Information Age right.

Simply put, there are some real nutters out there and they’ve got major buying power!

           Let’s be clear: There’s nothing wrong with feeling a sense of ownership when it comes to a series of books and its characters. One thing literary fiction readers will never understand is the sense of community and we’re-in-this-together mentality of genre fiction.  For many years, anything aside from straight-forward fiction was relegated to second-class status, with a smattering of works somehow rising “above” their perceived lower caste.  Deceased authors of speculative fiction often found themselves being “rediscovered” by those of a more literary bent, their work now available in the fiction category. As an author of genre work, I get all that. I really do.  But that doesn’t excuse the behavior so prevalent on message boards and social network sites.

            A great-fanged beast has been uncaged thanks to the perceived “power” on loan from the Web gods, and it is hell-bent on devouring anything before it that dares not agree with its views.  For those of us who seldom agree with them but still like to think of ourselves as fans, that’s rather disheartening.

            We might be a minority—although I suspect we’re actually a silent, cowed majority— but there are those of us who enjoy a good genre film or book and don’t feel the need to run around in costumes or play roleplaying games.  Some of us see it as fun or even enlightening entertainment designed for social commentary as well as thrills, still holding out hope that the stories being told can help humanity grow and learn from its mistakes as well as its accomplishments.  Pleasant diversions aside, the inmates are not merely running the asylum; they’re also running the town outside its walls.

            So, what does all this mean for those of us toiling away to supposedly make a difference and, in our lofty inner worlds, keep things elevated?

            The first and most important thing is to not allow any of that to sway us from our chosen paths.  Much has been made in the creative fields of not “selling out,” and while it’s a cliché, it would be a disservice to writers everywhere to deny its inherent value as a sentiment.  The very fact that you are contemplating the consequences of doing it means there’s some level of integrity others might not share. It also means you should stick to your guns and follow your heart and several other horribly unoriginal sayings I refuse to employ in this sentence.

            The fanboy might seem loyal and committed, but he is often fickle and on the cusp of turning his back.  Last year’s hot premise is this year’s mocked dying fad.  Remember those sparkly vampires?  How many imitators made a significant impact on the publishing industry?

            It simply cannot be said often enough that a writer’s time is better spent developing her own ideas rather than trying to create the next pop culture event based on what’s already popular.  Don’t worry about pleasing the fanboys; if what you’re doing is something they can claim they were into before it was cool, they will find you.

            Remember: They should be following you, not the other way around.

 

Socially Distant: the Quarantales Update

As promised, here is an update on the anthology featuring my latest short story, "The Days of Touch and Death." Links for preorder on your fanchy-shmancy digital device are now available at the following interwebbing sites:

Barnes & Noble

Amazon

Rakuten Kobo

The paperback edition, which is what I really, really care about, should be showing up on Amazon and B&N soon.

The Novel that Refuses to Die.

So, one of the librarians at one of the libraries I work for sent out an email telling people about an alternative to Amazon called "Bookshop," which is a consortium of independant bookstores. It's nice to see the so-called "little guys" managing to hang in there in the face of the ever-encroaching monolith Jeff Bezos' ego hath wrought.

Like any published author would, I immediately typed in my name and saw one of my novels available in their catalog.

I see the description still has that stupid editorial change from "thus" to "this" that still makes no sense at all. It's correct on the back cover blurb, just not in the website descriptions.

Don't let that keep you from ordering it, reading it, and forming an opinion.

Authors Daring to have Opinions: The Scourge of Complacency

This just in: A successful author made comments about a controversial topic that didn't line up with many of their fans' expectations! It's never happened before. Human beings always performs exactly the way we expect and never disappoint us. This is especially true of famous people, whose only function and role is to please us and validate whatever we believe. At least, that's how the Fates intended it.

In grown-up reality, however, there are occasional aberrations that result in some uppity creative type going against the grain. Obviously it's a terrible thing. After all, where would we be if so-called thinkers such as Gore Vidal, James Baldwin, Margaret Atwood and Harlan Ellison had had opinions and thoughts of their own? They were wise enough to know better and conducted themselves like proper extensions of their readers' wills and desires. I shudder to think of a mouthy Harlan Ellison or a scathing Vidal. What about a Baldwin or Atwood who actually decided to shine a light on the inequities of society? Yikes!

If writing is exclusively for comfort zones and turn-off-your-brains entertainment, and it is, then obviously the writer's thoughts are, too.

Sadly, this particular author forgot their station in life as "the entertainment" and shared opinions that upset tons of readers to the point where they began  feeling traumatized. Their childhoods had been ruined, you see. This author's books were a way of life for them, as evidenced by their shared desire to reenact them, dress like the characters, and make obnoxious references to them as if everyone knew what the hell they were talking about. This presumptuous author ruined all that with comments that forced these readers to re-examine the very foundation of their fandom. And then, the inevitable calls for censorship started.

I too was brainwashed at one time into thinking the free expression of ideas was a positive. I readily embraced those insipid words sung by Andy Partridge of XTC:

I believe the printed word is more than sacred
Beyond the gauge of good or bad
The human right to let your soul fly free and naked
Above the violence of the fearful and sad

What ridiculous tripe. Everybody knows words are supposed to comfort us, make us feel good about ourselves and never, ever, laugh at us when they see us naked. And because I now understand an opinion-free life is a life lived well, the very notion of someone discussing issues I am passionate about in any way that isn't how I like to hear them discussed makes me projectile vomit like a malfunctioning lawn sprinkler.

In addition to my more enlightened understanding regarding opinions, I have also come around to understanding that anything I object to on philosophical grounds deserves swift and merciless action. For famous authors, that can only mean one thing. Boycotting. Censure is the key to silencing those who drain the precious fluids from our sacred cows and nothing hurts them more than encouraging a total halt to all purchasing of books, movies and anything else the author has created. That'll learn 'em to mess with us morally superior types.

But, wait. There's more.

You might think it's only philosophically and ethically consistent if the aforementioned censorship occurs by completely cutting off all connection to the author's material, no matter how meaningful or impactful it was for you. Maybe you've even let Big Fiction convince you that it's unethical to still embroil yourself in the fandom of an author you now find repulsive. Don't listen to that nonsense. Listen instead to the group that says it's okay to enjoy the work as long as you never pay for it. And it's even more better-er if you take that person's work for your own and rewrite it to better match your sensibilities. It doesn't matter if the author is the only reason for you being able to do that. They shouldn't have opined. It's not hypocritical! Shut up! It is not!

No, you're acting like a child! You! 

Is there a spot, or a room of some kind where I can go inside and feel safe from all these contrary ideas? While there, I will work on my magnum opus, a novel that doesn't offend anyone, never makes the reader think or question anything, and agrees with whoever is reading it at the time. And if I fail, have no fear. You can feel justified in taking my hard work, changing it to something else, and never paying me a dime.

Just like Buddha...

And probably Jesus.

The Sermon on the...Me?

Previously, I posted about the Baptist pastor who enjoyed my short story "Ultimate Messiah Smackdown" enough to review it positively and mention using it as the basis for one of her sermons.
By the end of that post, I wrote about how I thought I might send her an email telling her how honored and thrilled I was. Well, I did. And with her kind permission, I am sharing our correspondence below:

Rev. Mindi Welton-Mitchell,

We have never met or corresponded but I ran across a review you wrote of a short story of mine in an anthology titled, "Alternative Theologies" and was moved by your reaction to it. I posted a more in-depth reaction on my blog which you may choose to read below:

HOLY Umm...Something! There is perhaps no greater validation of one's creative efforts than when someone who should find the work offe...

I was especially moved by your intention to use it as a tool for a sermon you were planning. Naturally I'm curious as to whether or not that ever happened but whether it did or not, the fact that the story resonated with what can only be considered an "expert in the field" on that level fills me with glee. And I'm not a gleeful sort, by any stretch of the imagination. I hope you don't mind that I Googled your name when I saw that you were a pastor. 

Thank you for the kind words and if there is any input I can provide on the story, please feel free to ask.

Sincerely,

Christopher Nadeau

Hi Christopher! Great to hear from you!

I did indeed use this story as an illustration in a sermon just over a year ago. I'll see if I can find a copy later. I preached about the illusions of the prosperity gospel and used your descriptions of Jesus and which Jesus do we choose to follow. Thanks for sharing your blog post, and I'm glad that both your story resonated with me and that my review was helpful!

I sold my first short story ever this year to the Space Force anthology, whenever Bob finishes it up, titled Space Force Chaplain. I'm excited to get it out into the world. 

Thanks again!

Blessings, Mindi

Excellent. Any blow I can help strike against the Prosperity Gospel is a worthy one! I look forward to reading the sermon whenever you locate it.

Congratulations on your short story sale.I admit I'm a little envious. "Space Force Chaplain" just based on its title is better than anything I've written this year!

P.S.

Do you mind if I share your reply to my email on my blog?

Go ahead and share my reply. :)

Blessings, Mindi

I will be sure to share the sermon as well if and when she ever sends it to me~

Book Trailer for "Classics Remixed Vol. II"

I had no idea this even existed! Even worse, it's been online since October of this year. Ah, well. No time like the prescient, right?

Below is the link to the Youtube trailer for the anthology featuring my short story, "Gorgon Not Forgotten." If you watch carefully, you may even see the head of yours truly hovering along with other authors.

View the trailer here.

Order the book here.

Look at the cover of the book...right here!

Not Sure How I Missed This.

Some time back, I entered the Dark Regions Press short story contest for a chance to get my story into the Black Labyrinth Anthology. I didn't win but I did apparently receive an Honorable Mention. I'm not sure how I missed this information -- maybe Dark Regions didn't send it to me in the rejection email -- but I was immediately transported back to childhood when we were herded into pits known as "classrooms" and forced to compete with each other for such luminary gains as the aforementioned Honorable Mention.

Broken, bloodied and drained of all sense of individuality, we stumbled forward for our cheaply made prizes so we could take them home and hand them to our parents and watch as they eventually faded into the confines of some forgotten box of crap that summed up our meager existences.

So, you're damn right I'm glad to see it. You can see it, too, by clicking here.












* In case my satire has gone unrecognized, I am actually pleased to have been mentioned at all considering I lost.
See, Mommy and Da-Da? Your little boy matters. He matters, damn you!

Oy, Such a Compliment That Was!

Although I mentioned it on Facebook, I refrained from mentioning specifics about my latest short story acceptance here because this is where I make my "official announcements" and I had not yet sent in my signed contract.  There's also the little matter of not wanting to jinx anything because, to be blunt, it's been a while since I've had anything accepted. However, this hasn't been a total surprise since, as I advised my Facebook friends, I tend to have better luck in the Fall.

I did make a brief mention of the story's acceptance in my post from September 28th post so maybe consider this the sequel to that award-winning piece of quasi-journalistic excellence. The story is titled, "Gorgon Not Forgotten" (hee-hee get it?) and it was accepted by Left Hand Publishing. Once I sent in my signed contract, biography and picture (ugh!) they replied with the suggested edits.

There were hardly any.

Not to brag, but the publisher of my first novel used to say I was the easiest person to edit because my first drafts tended to read like final ones. That didn't mean changes weren't necessary or that there was no room for improvement. It just meant my narrative structure was relatively strong and the requisite flow and plot progression weren't in need of repair. This may be telling stories out of school as they used to say but I don't normally start writing until I either have a complete vision in my head or, when I don't have one, I stop and start a lot rather than simply rushing through a first draft. That's an unusual technique and not one I necessarily recommend to others. The conventional wisdom is to not do what I do but I have found that I am less likely to finish the work if I don't push myself to make it final draft worthy the first time.

I am not, repeat not, arrogant enough to believe a prospective editor will see it that way. I am also one of the easiest people to request rewrites and edits from. Every word is not precious and sometimes one must indeed kill their darlings if they want to see one's work in print. If you don't agree, don't accept the offer.

When I opened the returned document containing my story and its suggested edits, I saw the following note in the right-hand corner:

"Hi Christopher. Excellent story and a pristine manuscript. As your story was being reviewed by the scorers, it was noted a couple of times that by changing just a few words, you could keep the progeny genderless. As you read through your manuscript again, try to forget whether it’s a he or a she. You’ll see how it adds another layer to your piece.
If you do not like that idea, just “reject” the couple of changes that we made.Thank you for a great read. Nice working with you on this project."

The note was followed by a handful of suggested grammatical changes. Personal feedback is rare enough in this field and any is appreciated, even if it's not positive. To receive positive feedback thanking me? That's yuge! Not to mention the amount of compliments contained in that one paragraph. Knowing that more than one person read it and found enough merit to agree it was publishable makes any semblance of impostor syndrome vanish like flatulence in a summer breeze.

More on that actual publication date when I know more on the actual...publication...you know what I mean!

Writing to Suit

Although I find myself doing it often, these days in particular, I'm always hesitant to write short stories for  anthologies with specific themes. The chances of getting the story accepted are usually low, especially if the story wasn't commissioned by the publisher, and then I'm left with what I consider a quality story that is too specific to send elsewhere.

I have gotten better at being strategic, however. Unless the anthology theme is one that grabs hold of me to the point where I become consumed with an instant story idea, I tend to weed out the more idiosyncratic ones in favor of themes that seem a bit more generalized. For example. if someone is looking for stories about the end of the world that only involve a wish gone horribly wrong, that story might be easily placed elsewhere. But if it's just about the end of the world being caused by a single poor decision, I'm all over it.

(I should confess here that the above example was one I actually wrote and published titled "Maynard" about a lovable, fun-loving sociopath whose hatred of humanity is eclipsed only by his ego)

Image obtained from Wickimedia Commons

Sometimes it's hard to not write the story anyway. There have been anthologies that paid well but what they wanted was so particular to that publication that it just didn't seem to be worth my time. I have few regrets on that score because I know that ultimately it makes more sense to aim wider. Such was not the case with the short story I had accepted earlier this week. Entitled, "Gorgon, not Forgotten," this was a case of literary hypocrisy on my part and I make no apologies for that.

"Gorgon" was written for an anthology looking for reworked mythological tales. The instant I read it, the words, "Medusa had a secret daughter" echoed inside my brain non-stop for several seconds. It was a case of a story taking hold of me and demanding to be told. Those are the moments most writers live for and I would have been damned if I'd allow that feeling pass without giving it its due. I finished the story rather quickly and had a few people read it. One hated it based on the fact that my version of the mythology was not what she "knew" to be the way it was supposed to work. Another loved it. One other couldn't get past the present tense and a fourth found it brilliant.

The story was rejected.

I wondered if my faith in its assumed (by me) quality had been misplaced. Sure, two people had really enjoyed it but what about those negative criticisms? Maybe they were right. How would I ever know, considering I'd written this story to suit a specific anthology? Then the Left Hand of Darkness emerged from deep within the Stygian depths of my unconscious mind. Or, more accurately, this publisher announced a somewhat similar anthology. Needless to say, the story was accepted.

So, is there a moral to this story or is it, as Homer Simpson once said, "Just a buncha stuff that happened"? I suppose if pressed to find a moral, it is to trust that inner voice in your head, the one that sounds like you. The one that doesn't sound like you might need to be medicated away unless it imbues you with super-powers. But that other voice knows you because it is you and, every once in a while, it's okay to step away from the hard and fast rules.

More info on this anthology as it becomes known~

2nd (and probably last) Patreon Post for September.

This post is fiction. Honestly. Not a word of it is based in any way on the tormented hell that is my life. 

Become a patron blah blah blah click here to read it yadda yadda yadda...

Short Stories No Longer Available.

It always saddens me when something I had published is no longer available to be purchased. And since most of my work has been published by tiny publishing houses, many of which closed their doors after just a few years of operation, the likelihood of not being able to find my work is greater than hoped. This is especially true of work that was only published in print form but it is by far not exclusively the case.

I've been fortunate enough to have published and, in some cases, republished well over three dozen short stories and two novels. The story count might be even higher than that now but I'm not obsessive about counting. Thankfully, the majority of my work can still be found.

Unfortunately, sometimes a publisher doesn't simply cease publishing. Sometimes they vanish like the proverbial fart upon yon breeze. Such was the case with the publisher of SciFan Magazine, the first publication to print a story of mine. I submitted a second story to the publisher only to soon realize he was more interested in promoting his own science fiction novel than in continuing to publish a high-quality magazine.  And it was high-quality. You can see by clicking here that SciFan is no more.

The story SciFan published, "No More Goodbyes," was not one I consider among my best, although I'm still rather fond of it. One story I do consider one of my best appeared in the anthology, "The Good Fight" concerning a superhero called Vanishing Act who discovers that the battle against evil isn't necessarily one he should be waging. That story is now out of print and I feel it deserves further consideration.

Perhaps the most painful loss is my beloved The Darkness Internal. Aussie publisher and friend Mark Turner ran out of funds after a rather impressive dual run of his main Voluted Tales Magazine and my imprint, named above. I got to publish six issues before the inevitable ax descended and, for several years afterwards and to the surprise of Mark, the issues remained online. I foolishly allowed myself to believe they always would be but the links no longer work. Now the only record of The Darkness Internal's existence can be found on blogs such as this one and this one.

It's sad to see a publication that included one's work gone into the ether; it happens to even the most famous authors. But when it's something I worked on from conception to inception, I can't deny that it hurts. I wish I'd thought of compiling the better stories into a self-published "Best of" but alas, I did not.

For those who may not be aware, most short stories, still available or not, become available to the author again within a year of publication. So, those stories that are no longer available could have been shopped around to others while they were still actively able to be purchased. A few were, actually.

As an author, I feel duty-bound to send work I have confidence back out for further consideration. And at some point, they will be collected in a short collection that will also one day go out of print.

Religious Fanatic Takes "Steal this Book!" to Heart but it's the Wrong Book.

Apparently an anthology I am in offended the delicate sensibilities of at least one self-appointed soldier for the Lord. At least, that's how the anthology's publisher is interpreting it.

It makes sense, based on how the petty crime took place. You can get the whole story here but here's a pull quote in case your clickin' finger is sore:

"...other books were left alone, as was a tablet and some cash..."

B Cubed Press Bob Brown's response to the thief is pretty entertaining because, ultimately, the fact that fiction can still cause this reaction in people means it still has the power to transform and to make people think. That is worth more to me than any financial reward my story gained.

The funny thing is, the only reason I even know about this is because I happened to be on my Amazon Author page where a newer reader review of the anthology mentioned the theft.  You can read that review here and even though the reader doesn't mention my story (how dare they?) it's a glowingly positive one that might not have happened if some jackass hadn't tried to censor what you're able to read.

The Best Thing I've Read from an Anthology's Guidelines Possibly Ever.

I don't usually name publications that haven't accepted my work or to whom I have not as of yet submitted my work but these people deserve a mention. I'm not a podcast person so they weren't even on my radar until I saw them in my Horror Tree email along with several other publishers accepting fiction.

Calling themselves "We Will Remember Freedom," they're pretty blunt about what they believe. In short, they're anarchists who oppose oppressive capitalism. Their name comes from an Ursula K Le Guin quote in which she says, "We'll need writers who can remember freedom" when hard times are upon us.

It doesn't matter if you agree with their point of view. Assuming you haven't turned off your brain because the previous paragraph mentions the words capitalism and oppressive in the same thought, you will realize why your hostility is irrelevant if you keep reading, especially if you're a writer. In their guidelines section, We Will Remember Freedom describes their payment structure in ways both wonderful and inspiring:

"We pay $.01USD per word upon acceptance. This is not a professional rate, and we are therefore primarily a reprint market. While we will consider fiction that has not appeared elsewhere, we suggest that if your story is good enough for us, it is probably good enough for someone who will pay you at least 8 cents per word and we encourage you to try submitting to those markets first. Authors should be paid for their labor. Once your work is out of exclusivity, or if you can’t find a better-paying home for it, send it on to us!"

SERIOUSLY???






That paragraph is filled with so much good that it momentarily instilled faith in my fellow human. I mean, it's gone now, but still...

Second Patreon Post for August.

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IF HARLAN ELLISON ISN'T AN AUTHOR YOU ADMIRE, YOU'RE PROBABLY NOT MUCH OF A WRITER.

Despite the clickbaity tone of this post's title, I mean it. Although I guess I'll add the caveat that you don't actually have to see Ellison as a hero but you should at least admire him and his talent. I don't care if you thought he was an abrasive asshole and your delicate Middle American/Southern/Whereever-the-hell-else sensibilities were wounded. The man's brilliance shines through his behavior and his absence from this mortal coil is felt daily, especially by those of us who find the current crop of event TV series mostly banal and lifeless.

Ellison not only defended the written word with his every breath but he also stood up for the writer as a professional who deserved recognition and, damn right, to get paid. One of my favorite Ellison interactions involved him receiving a telephone call from a represenative of a film company that was working on a "Babylon 5" documentary. Ellison served as a consultant and wrote for the show. When the woman expressed shock that the world-famous author wanted to get paid for his time and advised him it would be good publicity, he exploded.

"Do you get a paycheck?" Ellison then asked. "Does your boss get a paycheck? Do you pay the telecine guy? Do you pay the cameraman? Do you pay the cutters? Do you pay the Teamsters when they schlep your stuff on the trucks? Would you go to the gas station and ask them to give you free gas? Would you go to the doctor and have them take out our spleen for nothing?" Quote source. 

Publicity. Sounds a lot like "exposure," which is the preferred word for not paying authors these days. Imagine having the utter cluelessness or arrogance to tell an award-winning science fiction author that. The pervasive devaluing of writers and our craft, especially in the U.S., is beyond dishgeartening. I think the only field that gets it worse is the teaching profession, which is indeed a profession and not a service industry job.

So, no. You don't have to like him. You don't have to like anybody. But if you're a writer, particualrly of any form of genre fiction and you don't admire him (the man stood up to that control freak Gene Roddenberry) then you're probably someone who should rethink their choice of vocation.

Because it is indeed a vocation, which is exactly what Ellison was reminding people of when he sat in that window (pictured above) and went to work every day until he was sarisfied with his output. Ellison could have taken the easier way out like so many so-called "writers" these days who basically operate sweatshops with starving writers doing all the work while they slap their names on the cover. He, unlike they, deserves your respect.




*Purchase the Grandmaster's book "Under Glass" here.

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