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.

I'm at the Lie-Berry!!!

I love the fact that three anthologies I have stories in can be found in the library system I work for. I wish they were at the actual libraries I work for but the fact that they're accessible in the shared system is still pretty freakin' awesome.

I can't lay claim to "Angels in the Endzone" and for that I am eternally grateful. The three anthologies, however, do indeed feature my work. If you live in Southeastern Michigan and have a library card, be sure to visit The Library Network for more info!

***FREE FICTION TIME***

I'm not generally fond of the fact that some of my work can be found free with the mildest effort, despite the fact that it's often work appearing in an anthology that is supposed to be purchased. However, I'm feeling generous today and, if I may be frank, I was never paid for this particular story anyway.

Don't worry. I wasn't stiffed. It was simply not a paying anthology. It was submitted to an editor of whom I'd been rather fond during her time at another publisher that was no longer in business. It would appear that the newer publisher hath met a similar fate. I can't find anything beyond 2017 on their website.

So, the fact that story rights revert to the author after six months unless otherwise stipulated and combined with the defunct status of the publisher renders me guilt-free. I could have posted it on my Patreon page but I don't want people to start feeling like I don't ever share my work on here anymore.

Below is the cover of the anthology.

Click here to read my story and, apparently, every other story in the anthology. 

The Anthology with Legs (and probably feet but who can know these things?)

While this anthology is no longer the number one anthology of its kind on Amazon, it is still receiving positive reviews. And my story, "Ultimate Messiah Smackdown" stands out with more than one reader.

The most recent reviewer wrote, "Ultimate Messiah Smackdown was a great critique and snarky..."

Of course, he also goes on to point out a typo that was missed by both the editor and me, but such is life. I'll do better next time.

Another reader wrote of the entire anthology, "One of the best collections...I've read" and another wrote, "Definitely read this book. The writers are excellent."

I'm guessing that includes me :)



Pick up a copy of the anthology by clicking here.

NUMBER ONE SELLING ANTHOLOGY (and I'm in it)

Become a Patron. Become MY Patron.

Hot off the heels of my post about how I avoid shameless self-promotion comes this post where I indulge in...shameless...self...

Ummm, promotion.

Well, I was overdue for a dash of hypocrisy, right? I'm always so damn lofty and full of scruples.
I wrote that last line with a straight face.

I also set up this Patreon page with a straight face because who doesn't like getting paid for what they write? For as little as one dollar per month, you get me doing my thing at least twice a month! Imagine it, Me times two!

Up first is my never-before-published "Twilight" parody called "Dusk." But don't worry, regular blog readers. I'm not abandoning this page, nor am I going to make you pay for the type of material you have been getting on here in the past. The Patreon account will have its own character and feel. You will, however, have to deal with me plugging that page when something new is published there.

But that shouldn't bother you because you've been loyally purchasing everything I've had published anyway, right?

Shameless Self-Promotion and why I still avoid it.

Yesterday I was chided by a co-worker as we walked into one of the libraries I work for to start our day. She and I have worked together for at least two years  now if not longer and somehow she had never heard that I was a published author.

Keep in mind, this is a library. A place that could potentially carry my work and larger collections containing my contributions. Most of the people I work with know I'm a writer, although some of them may not know how much I've actually had published. Some of you are probably reading this in disbelief, thinking about how if you were a published author, everybody would know about it. I have no problem with that, it's just not how I have chosen to live my life.

I am by no means an extremist, however. I have a colleague from my old writing workshop days who doesn't tell co-workers anything about her secret identity as a published author. She prefers to keep the two parts of herself separate. I don't mind mixing them because, to my way of thinking, they aren't separate.

Being an author isn't a "side-hustle," that loathsome, ubiquitous expressions notwithstanding. It is the direct end result of being a writer. The author completes his or her work and sees it published and, gods willing, read by at least one dedicated, lonely individual out there living in a Unabomber-style shack, with apologies to The Simpsons. It is the final manifestation of all those undeniable creative urges we have felt since we can remember. The need to tell a story, to express one's self, cannot be reduced to a mere "hustle" to obtain extra cash. We'll leave that to dubious success stories such as the so-called "Food Babe and this guy.

So, when pressed to talk about my writing, a small part of me feels like a cheap huckster if I go too far, which I define as mentioning all the low, low prices my work can be purchased for if you just act now! 

What do I look like, one of those brazen self-publishing fanatics who fell for the algorithm-manipulating strategy of the mid-2000s?

I suspect my co-worker felt out of the loop more than anything else. When I told her I post on Facebook about my work all the time, she told me she only went on Facebook to read my bizarre, funny rants. I didn't have the heart to tell her she basically has seen my writing in that case.

However, in the interest of not alienating anyone who might be unaware of how or where to find the bulk of my published work, click this link.

Some Reader Reviews:

Zippered Flesh: Tales of Body Enhancements Gone Bad!

You With Me by Christophe Nadeau: you can feel the horror coming on this one, like little flickers of light at the corners of your vision…. You don’t quite want to look the whole way! Nothing prepares you for the ending, but it is a good one! Nothing says I love you quite like this!

A Feast of Frights from the Horror Zine.

There are many in this book that are new writers to watch for success. Eric J. Guignard is really amazing and also Christian A. Larsen and Christopher Nadeau and Taylor Grant.

“Always Say Treat” by Chris Nadeau was a nod to one of my favorite Steven N. Marshall stories. 


Miseria's Chorale.

Highlights in this were The Cherry Tree by James S. Dorr, Becoming the Beast by Christian A. Larsen,
Give Me Convenience by Shaun Meeks, Evacuation by Jay Wilburn, From Suicide Station by Adam Millard, The Face of Death by Paul Kane, The Gatehouse by Anna Taborska, In Green Remembered by Christopher Nadeau 

Latest Short Story Released!

I'll be honest. I  received a rather painful rejection this time. Not because I worked "really, really hard" on the story, although I did, but because it was one of the stories I had that feeling about. I think most writers who have had their work published more than a few times develop it. Some stories just feel like they will be accepted by the editor. The last time I felt that feeling, it was after I finished editing, "Your Future for a Low, Low Price," which was recently published in this anthology. The time before that was once I'd completed, "The Last Big Gamble" for this one. Both times I just knew this was what the publisher was looking for, and I was right.

Sadly, that feeling isn't 100% effective. Sometimes I'm wrong. In this particular instance, the editor "thoroughly enjoyed reading" it but not enough to include it in the anthology. I must admit, it hurt a little. It isn't as if I wasn't prepared for the possibility, but I felt really good about this one. I still do. I hope to find it a home soon. That brings me to the celebratory portion of this post.

The story appearing in the just-released print issue of the Horror Zine was originally written for an anthology that chose not to publish my story. When that happens, I usually wait 24 hours before resubmitting my work to someone else. One day to lament, that's it. Since the one that was just rejected is so specific to the theme the rejecting anthology wanted, it might take a little longer, but that rule has served me well.

The proof can be found here.

Meanwhile, in Italy...

...some random online bookstore store has my first novel, "Dreamers at Infinity's Core" for sale,

And what appears to be an Italian university is selling my second one:

Anyway, how's your day goin'?

THE SECRET FORMULA DISCOVERED!!!

Now, after years of writing and posting on this blog, I have finally stumbled upon the secret formula to receiving tons of views and, presumably, people reading my posts. The key doesn't lie in the quality of the writing or the point of view of the author. Nope! While those things have garnered me views in respectable number, the real way to get peoples' attention is to be a prick.

Yep, despite all my efforts to the contrary, herculean though they have been, when I let my inner A-hole out for a walk in the courtyard, people flock to this blog.

I get it. My response to an unnamed critic of my work whose point of view I found moronic and poorly rendered has now become my most viewed post. But what does this mean for yours truly?
Am I going to stop posting other things? Since my posts about my latest published work garner a tenth of the views of  the one about the reviewer, does that mean I will stop sharing that type of news? Well, no because that's this blog's primary function.

So maybe it means I'm going to tailor those posts to the people who seemed to gravitate towards the popular post. Again, nope.

Maybe it means I get it and I won't shy away from posting similar things in the future.

Yeah, let's go with that!

CONFIRMATION RECEIVED

My short story, "Time of Expansion" will be appearing in the Horror Zine's physical magazine in the Spring 2019 issue. This marks a return to publisher/editor Jeani Rector's award-winning publication  for me as I have not had a story published there in at least five years.

More on this as it becomes available!

Another "What do you Call that Noise?" Review.

At this point, this might just become the most reviewed publication I have ever been involved with.  Again, there's no mention of my comparatively meager contribution and I'm perfectly fine with that.

You can read the review and interview here.

Things People Say to Writers

I have heard numbers 4, 6, 7, 8, and 10. I guess that means I've been fortunate.

Alternative Theologies Reading Event (I won't be there).

As if I needed another reminder of why it sucks to live where the world of fiction writing is not well-represented, I received the following email regarding an opportunity to read my work along with other authors appearing in the "Alternative Theologies" anthology. Sounds great except for one thing:

It's in Seattle :(

"Alternative Theologies authors are invited to read (along with authors from Alternative Truths: Endgames and After the Orange) Friday, March 29, 6:30 p.m., at the University Bookstore (on “The Ave” near the University of Washington) in Seattle.

Please let me know if you would like to be part of this group reading so I can get our lineup to the bookstore’s promotions folks.

It’s on a Friday evening, which I hope will make it a bit easier for folks coming longer distances, perhaps from Eastern Washington.

Stephanie Weippert, Bruce Taylor, and John A. Pitts are signed up to read (they responded to my post on B Cubed’s Facebook page).

Apologies to those of you receiving this mailing who are not within driving distance of Seattle, who have received a duplicate mailing for authors also in Endgames — I wasn’t sure, and didn’t want to leave anyone out of this invitation."

Sigh.

I'm sure there's a lovely auto show or hockey game I can participate in instead...

Not Sure What This Says About Me...

As I've written recently, my run of luck in regards to getting published this still new year has not been encouraging. It didn't help that I went on my Amazon Author Central page yesterday and noticed a review of one of my short stories from about four years ago. It was a reader review. He clearly put a lot of thought into it and somehow found a single word that perfectly encapsulated his feelings:

CRAP.

I'm not the only one whose story he labeled with this cutting dismissal either. At least 80% of the anthology received what I call the other "C-word" in response to its offerings. I was a bit taken aback, having never seen a review with such negative finality before. Then I got a look at his picture and started laughing because, frankly, he looked like the comic relief in a certain type of film from a certain country that isn't known for its high-end cinema.

Still, my amusement aside, his hilarious appearance doesn't negate his right to have an opinion that doesn't make me feel good about my writing. I certainly would never want to curtail a person's ability to express himself as he sees fit as long as it's not abusive. Besides, the review was from three years ago and, as we say in the field, at least he took the time to write a review. Frankly, the positive reviews still outweigh the negative ones.

When I place my so-called run of bad luck into perspective, most of the stories that have been rejected were actually submitted in the final two months of 2018, basically right on top of one another. Of course they would start coming in the same way they went out! Besides, I have a short story and a piece in a non-fiction book both coming out in the next few weeks. So, how exactly is this a bad start to the New Year?

So, for now, I will cease and desist my whining. Oh, and no, I am not going to share a link to the "crap" review. Do your own research~

The Best Comment I've Seen About Bill Maher so far

This one came from an comment on social media but it perfectly puts into perspective how comics fans should regard Bill Maher's insipid comments about the form:

"He's a pot head drug addict who bangs strippers looking down on people who find entertainment, comfort...escape...in ways that don't harm themselves or others"

Two Pop Culture Things that are Annoying me at the Moment

Every so often, something occurs in the genre sub-culture that reminds me I work way too hard for way too little. This week, thanks to finally watching a TV series on DVD that premiered a year ago, I wound up with two things rightly pissing me off instead of just one, which is my weekly average.

I'll start with the less offensive one because even though it's moronic and awful, it lacks the personal connection I require to really throw up in my mouth.

I'm not what one would consider a Trekkie. My mom was one of the original ones, but I grew up on "Star Wars," which basically became the blueprint for my life along with comic books. It wasn't until the first "Star Trek" movie was released that I realized this old, cheesy-looking show had more going on than I'd thought. I loved the movies and became much more appreciative of the original series because of them. I also enjoyed "The Next Generation" despite creator Gene Roddenberry's bizarre, L Ron Hubbard-esque approach to the franchise. Watch the documentary Chaos on the Bridge to find out just how batshit crazy he'd gone. Still, the show got better and I enjoyed the films it spawned as well.

Then "Deep Space Nine" turned out to be a giant turd and no series after it was watchable to me. Besides, the vastly superior "Babylon 5" had shown what a laughably naive vision Roddenberry's was. The franchise went into hibernation after the abortion called "Enterprise" went off the air a year earlier. I felt it was time for it to die but JJ Abrams revived it with his enjoyable alternate timeline films. Now there is another series that supposedly takes place in the original timeline and it is, quite possibly, the worst one yet.

The acting makes the early TNG days look Oscar worthy. The so-called "Klingons" speak phonetically as if being fed lines. The main character is an arrogant, unlikable Mary Sue who is also somehow inept. The effects work looks like a bad early 2000s video game and once again everything looks too advanced to be taking place prior to the Kirk and Spock years. This article goes into greater detail than I think the show deserves.

Bottom line: Aside from the "Kelvin Timeline," the Star Trek franchise has nothing left to say and needs to go back to sleep. It's become a shameless parody of itself.

If that sounded angry, you either don't know me or you should probably avoid this next part. I can't promise there won't be swears a'plenty!

First off, take a look at this:

That's right. Much like the STD that refuses to be cured, Rob "What's Human Anatomy" Liefeld has once again decided to spray his venom all over the Marvel Universe. It isn't bad enough that he gave us the most annoying character in comics history, namely Deadpool. It isn't enough that he didn't even create the definitive version of that crappy character yet takes credit in the noble tradition of Bob Kane of Batman fame.  Easily one of the most hated comic artists in, well, ever, Liefeld's total disregard for practical physics and anatomy under the hilarious pretense of stylistic choice is the reason most people despise him. Well, that and his cocky, self-entitled attitude.

As a writer, however, I despise him because he thinks he can write and he sucks as a visual artist. Entire pages have been devoted to his lack of talent. For example, click here and here.

Here is Liefeld's description of the character and his origin:

“When we were coming up with the team, I said look, back in 1991 I was jamming with two guys: Jim Lee on X-Men and Whilce Portacio on Uncanny X-Men. We were the three engines running that office in the early ‘90s when all the launches happened,” Liefeld says. “So I just reached out and said Whilce, I’m having a party, it’s called Major X, could you join? I sent him the plot, and we got him for a key chapter in the story. I’m a giant Whilce Portacio fan, fans were jamming on him and the stuff he was doing on Uncanny in the ’90s, and when he sent the pages, I could not be more thrilled. It’s 1991 again, I’m jamming with Whilce, we’re making X-Men comics. It’s myself, Brent Peeples, and Whilce. We are handling the art. I’m the bookends, and then Brent and Whilce are the middle chapters. There’s a pride of ownership when you go this is my team, we’re gonna introduce Major X and these new concepts. Marvel gave me six issues to tell the story, and I’ve seen three so far. It’s explosive, it’s jam-packed.”

Leaving the aside the ridiculous hipster-laden speech pattern, what really grinds my nuts is Liefeld's obvious total lack of growth. This guy had over two decades to mature and improve and all he could come up with is a thinly conceived character that's an obvious mish mash of Cable and Bishop with alternate universe theory switched out for time travel? And the character looks like the abandoned love-child of Boba Fett and Deadpool. Naturally, he has the requisite square-barreled handguns that probably never need to be reloaded and the samurai sword because...who the hell knows?

Then there's the ridiculous concept that sounds like an early draft of the New Universe character Justice. An entire universe of nothing but mutants? Seriously? What the fuckety fuck!? Does he not realize that they're no longer mutants if they're the only thing that exists? And where the hell is the dramatic tension? Why would we care if he wants to bring his universe back to life? And what is with that goddam sword on his back!?

ARGH! 

This is the kind of hackery that gets rewarded. Liefeld was just about the highest paid comic artist at one time yet almost no one can say why. Even Todd MacFarlane realized he needed to concede his writing duties to someone more qualified.

Someone very important to me recently said I needed to lower my standards so I would be delighted when I saw things. Well, I am delighted when I see things: GOOD things. They do exist. For every Liefeld, there's a Brian Michael Bendis or Geoff Johns. But I have to work way too hard just to get the small opportunities I get to sit back with lowered standards while marginally talented assclowns keep puking their half-digested horseshit into the mainstream.

Okay, rants over.

Gonna go lie down now.

Pre-Order your copy of "Deadly Bargain" NOW!!!

The  Kindle edition of "Deadly Bargain: A Colors in Darkness Anthology" is now available on Amazon for pre-order. The rule for this one was simple, so of course I almost didn't do it correctly. Basically, the stories needed to involve a bargain struck with a stranger that turns out badly for the protagonist. In other words, just enough detail but not so much that the act of creation becomes an act of constriction.

However, it wasn't until I was three-quarters of the way finished that I realized I'd missed one final detail: The bargain supplier had to be the same guy in every story. Normally that wouldn't be a problem if not for that fact that my contrary ass (apparently even on an unconscious level) had created a character who could not have been more opposite in appearance and national origin.

In a flash of inspiration (or desperation, if you prefer) I came up with a solution to what turned out to be a tiny problem. The point being made about hatred of the other carried even more weight now and, because I despise preachy fiction, I chose not to dwell on it for longer than a few sentences. What resulted was a story I consider one of the better ones I've written in the past year, my so-called "comeback" period.

Click here to learn more!

An Anthology I Overlooked.

I'm sure I mentioned this anthology at the time but, until earlier today, I'd not only forgotten about it but had also somehow neglected to add it to my Amazon author page.I have submitted the info to them so that error should be rectified soon. In the meantime, if you're interested, feel free to click here to learn more.

 It was published in 2013 and features two of my short stories that were originally published in separate collections put out by the Great Lakes Association of Horror Writers. The stories are "Rosa, Rosa Come out of your Room" and "Across the Pond." The latter was reprinted in the charity anthology "The Ripple Effect".