SHORT STORY ACCEPTANCE

 Having been incapacitated since the day after Thanksgiving from COVID, I was pleased to wake up this morning to a short story acceptance by Ghostlight Magazine. The editor's letter was most welcome indeed!

Good evening, Chris! 

Thank you for your patience. I am happy to accept "In the Freezer" for the spring issue of Ghostlight. I hope you are pleased. 

Your piece is darkly fun and I love the twist ending. This is the kind of story I want in our anthology. 

I will send the contract this week. 

Be well.

Nicole e. Castle

Editor, Ghostlight 

I will post the appropriate link once I know more.

Latest Published Short Story

 I've been keeping quiet about this, patiently awaiting all the edits and formatting, knowing its time was going to come. Now that it has, I can announce my short story publication in the latest print copy of the Horror Zine. Gaze upon yon kick-ass cover:

My story is titled, "The Helpful Dead" and it's the only one you should care about!

Kidding. This issue is chockful of talented writers and wonderful short stories.

The print edition is $14.99 and the Kindle edition is $5.99. I don't care which one you get as long as you read mine first.

Order the magazine by clicking this link.

As always, reviews are welcome and encouraged, even negative ones. 

Vote for Me

 My short story, "Floorboards" is currently in the top 25 on Storybilder and you, you lucky person you, can vote for it by clicking this here hyperlink!

Thanks in Advance!

The Literal-Mindedness of Evangelicalism

 

"Why pay for movies when you can pay me?"

You would think someone who operates exclusively on faith would be able to grasp abstract concepts in lieu of being suffocatingly literal-minded. And while that is, perhaps, true of some true believers out there, it's not true of your typical Evangelical Christian. They don't view anything they believe as metaphorical or representative of some greater, impossible to define truth. They take it all at face value and, even worse, they project that mentality onto the rest of us.

Especially those of us who dare write fiction.

Recently, I saw a video clip of an Evangelical preacher admonishing people for watching horror movies. His bone of contention was that the films somehow convince us that the entities they feature are more powerful than they actually are when all one really needs is Christian faith to essentially stomp these beings into the ground for Jesus. This preacher went on to decry all horror films as an attempt to deceive people from the truth of the Gospel. That's all well and good. He can believe whatever he wants, but what he can't do is speak as an authority on something he clearly knows nothing about.

This certainly wasn't the first time a preacher arrogantly proclaimed his knowledge about the so-called "secular world" and it sadly isn't anywhere near to being the last. It's yet another in a long line of misconceptions uttered by someone who entire existence is informed by magical thinking. It's a fascinating contradiction to be both literal-minded and entirely lacking in logic, but when one's false sense of righteousness is backed up by the bubble they operate within, it is unavoidable. 

"We're lookin' for the guy that called us weak and defeated."

First off, horror is so much more than movies featuring demonic entities of the Judeo-Christian variety. There are several sub-genres, some of which don't include the supernatural at all. Secondly, the preacher's assertion that demons are defeated beings living under our feet is a provincial one at best. Not everyone believes that and not every culture's demons are former uppity angels who got their comeuppance. In some belief systems, angels are indeed equal to their counterparts. Thirdly, the preacher's woeful ignorance of the genre and its history is on full display because he has no idea what traditions are being drawn from. You think he knows about Lovecraft's Ancient Ones or Clive Barker's pleasure/torture vision of Hell? 

Most importantly, he misunderstands (whether intentionally or unintentionally) the entire point of horror, which is to provide much-needed catharsis for the audience watching it. Fear is only a bad thing if it's given more power than it deserves. By proclaiming all fictional horror part of some greater conspiracy to perpetrate a lie about Christian-centric demons, he stands revealed as little more than a peddler of ignorance desperately trying to understand a word that makes little sense to him otherwise. The sad part is there are millions of Americans are not only willing but also happy to follow along.

I can't think of anything more horrifying that that.

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. 

Sex Workers of the Literary World Unite!

 As I've mentioned on this blog in the past, I subscribe to an online group called The Horror Tree that sends out emails alerting writers to potential anthology, periodical and novel publishing opportunities. Every so often there's one that grabs my attention not necessarily because I want to send the publisher my work but because something in the description draws me in. This time, the anthology in question is called "Beast Volume 1."

It is yet another furry horror collection, a sub-genre whose existence I find endlessly fascinating and sometimes downright terrifying. I'm still trying to fully wrap my brain around the concept as well as the sub-culture whose existence doesn't baffle as much as the fact that there have now been more than one furry horror anthology and apparently more on the horizon.

However, this time around at least, it isn't the reality of furries that has drawn my attention. It's the sentence below:

BIPOC Authors, Queer Authors, Disabled Authors, Authors who are currently or former Sex Workers are strongly encouraged to submit.

Forgive my Midwestern ignorance, but  when exactly did Sex Workers fall under the category of marginalized minority? I'm not saying the perspectives of Sex Workers both former and current aren't valid or even something that needs to be seen. On the contrary, there is a wealth of experience and outlook there that is a potential literary goldmine. I'm also no prude when it comes to, ummm, that thing that...men and woman do when it's dark and never speak of once all the sinning is over in 30 seconds. 

So, as someone who has been on the other side of the editorial wall accepting submissions and desperately hoping for something unique and different, I get wanting fresh perspectives. I even commend whoever thought of including Sex Workers as a valid fiction-writing group. What I don't get, however, is including them in a long sentence that mentions marginalized people who have faced discrimination. Much like the logical assertion that there is no such thing as a "Blue Life" because it's a career, can the same not be said for Sex Workers? Yes, many of them are not working willingly or even because they always wanted to work in the skin trade, but still...it's not a race or a gender or sexual preference.

If we muddle the definitions of things to suit our own points of view, we risk rendering the very real issues in society meaningless. 

That said, I look forward to seeing Sex Workers do more!

(That really didn't come out right, did it?)

BAD REVIEW

 

Nothing peps me up more than discovering a negative review of my work. It's even better when it somehow slipped under my RADAR for five years, as was the case with a review on Amazon from a guy in India whose screen name is "Perceptive Reader." Clearly a humble, self-aware individual, Mr. Reader found the majority of the stories in the third book of the "Use Enough Gun" anthology beneath his contempt, at least judging by the way he dismissed them with such in-depth analysis as "Crap," "Meh" and the ever-reliable, "Rubbish."

If you've ever met one of those people who disdain every movie they see by claiming there wasn't enough character development, you've probably also suspected that they didn't really know what that phrase meant. Similarly, whenever someone uses buzzwords such as, "Overwritten," or "longish," one wonders if the reviewer is more in love with their ability to sound knowledgeable and too hip for the room. It's difficult to say. We weren't all taught to give reasons for our opinions, nor were we all taught to eschew buzzwords when we do. So, perhaps there's little point in trying to understand the mindset of a man whose reaction to 80% of an anthology was so hostile.

I defy anyone to read the opening paragraph of Perceptive's review and not either chuckle or shake their head. Not to review the review, but come on! Phrases such as, " ...nod sagely while procrastinating about increasing paranoia among the hoi-polloi, in these days of connectivity and terrorism" are clearly meant to be taken seriously but is that even possible? It isn't for me but your mileage may vary.

My short story "Arrival" happens to be one of my favorite stories I've ever written. It is the sequel to "Emergence," which appeared in "Monster Hunter Legends Both Barrels" also published by Emby Press. That doesn't mean I expect everyone else to love it. It's a rather specific type of story, one that combines elements of classic comic books, horror and religious fanaticism. There's no reason to assume Mr. P. Reader would find that even remotely fascinating. I would love to know why he considered it crap, however, as I'll bet many of the other authors whose works were dismissed in like fashion would also.

Alas, there are no answers to be found in this case. P.R. either didn't feel the need to elaborate or that his simplistic reactions spoke volumes. I will close by adding this one nugget of hoped-for wisdom:

Reviews such as these help no one. They serve no one. They say nothing except "Lookit me being all edgy and stuff." No writer learns from the experience in a way that either helps them grow and improve and, in fact, some probably shrink away from the writing for publication world, discouraged and convinced that their Imposter Syndrome was the real thing. And while I know this is a tough field and that people who can't take harsh criticism need not apply, I also feel strongly that irresponsible reviews such as the one in this post are detrimental and destructive to the overall discourse.

So in spite of myself, I will review P. Reader's review with my own one-word choice: Idiotic.

My "Amazing Story"

 

The zippered Flesh anthology may be six years old, but I'm still running across reviews of its disturbing stories. This one, for example.

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~

 

That Time I Didn't Know I had a Story Republished.

In 2019, I submitted a story that was originally written for and rejected by a different anthology to Jeani Rector's print version of The Horror Zine. It was accepted and published in the Spring 2019 issue (pictured below).

However, while being a bad boy and Googling myself with the word "terrible" in a vain effort to locate some funny negative criticisms about my work, I instead ran across the following search result at the top of the screen:

Search Results

Web results

Christopher Nadeau - The Horror Zine

The May Selected Writer is Christopher Nadeau ... more, informing him his behavior was outrageous, unprofessional, classless and, worst of all, pissing me off.

The way that reads, I thought somebody was talking about me! Excited to see what terrible thing somebody thought I had done, I instead happened upon an issue of the online version of the Horror Zine, which I'd always thought was a whole separate thing. Yet, there I was for the third time as featured writer without even knowing it. It turns out the verbiage was an excerpt from my own story.

Click the link below to read "The Time of Expansion," one of my favorite stories even though I didn't remember it when I read it :)



Story link

*FREE SHORT STORY FOR MY FELLOW COVID SHUT-INS*

Originally published in this now defunct magazine, this is me taking Lovecraft and doing my own thing with it. Feel free to provide your honest opinion even if, especially if it is not positive. How else can I tell you you're an idiot who doesn't get my genius if you don't tell me you hated it?

Hint: It's flash fiction, so it's over before you know it!

From Out the Abyss Within

by
Christopher Nadeau

They were crawling out of his eyes, his ears, his nose.  Long, slender tendrils coated in viscous, dripping fluids, shining in the light as they wiggled free and onto the floor.  From there, they congregated, hissing, writhing, merging into newer, larger versions of their former selves.  And they spoke. They spoke to him.

“No god but us,” they said.

“Please,” he said, lower lip quivering, “Let me go home.”

“You are home,” the creatures said.  “So are we.”

His body went limp, obeying their command/assurance.

Still able to move his eyes, he glanced to his left and saw the portal still shimmering.  One word, the word, and it would close forever.  No more slithering, controlling monsters.

“There will be order,” they said. “No more enslavement to passions, desires, impulses.”

Sweat rained down his face from his hairline, filling his widened eyes with water and salt.  At his feet, the creatures kept merging, growing, becoming.

He needed to move.  Stop them.  Close the portal.  They’re only the beginning. They’ve waited forever and now they’re back!

“Please, God,” he muttered.

 “We came first,” the unified voices said. “We are your god.”

Somewhere out of his range of sight, lay the body of Johnny, his partner-in-crime.  They’d devoured him the moment of their arrival, declaring him unworthy. And who were they to make such a determination?

Evil. Primeval. Ancient Ones. His words from earlier today played over and over in his head: It’ll be so cool. Let’s rock the foundations.

They won’t rock.  They’ll cease to exist.  Reality is made of rubber and it will bend and take on new shapes.

The human race would die in its sleep.

“You are holy,” they said. “You are the Temple.”

Blinking, he glanced once more at the portal.  Close off, he thought. Seal!

“The Path to Salvation begins with you,” they said.

He paused, mouth opening and closing without sound.  Me? He thought. But I’m nothing. No one.

How could anything important involve him?  His father called him the useless one.  The disappointment.  A mistake.

“Me?” he asked.

The creatures stopped and turned to look at him, one mind, many bodies, unmoving.

He smiled.  “Me.”

From deep inside the portal came a chorus of inhuman voices singing of the Coming Change, hailing the Return of the True Gods, marching onward, marching, marching…

And he let them come, into him, through him.  The Temple. Not useless. Holy.

Let the world bend like rubber.

They were back.

There was time enough for him to say, “Hallelujah,” before the Old Ones bridged the gap between the portal and the Temple and his vision was filled with glorious oblivion.

Things That Make Me Wonder Why I Even Bother...

Here it is, the dumbest thing I've seen since the last dumbest thing!

And in case you're thinking that's somebody's satirical design, there is an actual book by an actual author that you can order by clicking here.

I don't usually single out what I consider bad ideas but some people take the "write what you know" axiom too far! But of course readers with lower levels of expectation will flock to these types of gimmicky tales, especially if they feel it represents a group that has not been acknowledged in the genre...such as soccer moms. An this ain't your average, Karen-haircut-sportin', manager-demanding, throw a fit when Starbucks is out of her favorite drink soccer mom. This one is straight out of the Buffy the Vampire Slayer mold.

It's one of those ideas I'll readily admit having had at least once before ultimately dismissing it as derivative and lacking in the potential for genuine drama. But that's me. We've already established that I am unnecessarily hard on myself when it comes to striving for originality and avoiding tropes. Obviously I don't always succeed, but when something is so ludicrously on the nose, it gets discarded quickly and tossed in the embarrassment bin with its poorly wrought brethren. However, ideas are but one component of the fiction-creating process. What about the writing?

Fortunately, there is a sample provided of "Blackrose" prose. I read most of chapter one. It certainly isn't terrible, although the dialogue's sole purpose seems to be to give us all the backstory that would be better provided in descriptive paragraphs interspersed with dialogue. Of course, I'm looking through the eyes of a writer and editor, not an escape seeking soccer mom who simply wants easily understood adventure. And that is the audience here.

So, even though I think it's a dumb idea and am unimpressed with its execution, the book has thirteen positive reviews...all written by women who look like they could be the lead character, but still. She has successfully tapped into a demographic that likes what she's doing. If you're writing specifically for entertainment, what more could you hope for?

A better idea and a more demanding readership, that's what.

Second Patreon Post for August.

This is starting to feel like work...or it would if I wasn't posting stuff that was already written some time ago.

Anyway, usual crap: Pledge at least one dollar per month and absorb the yummy goodness by clicking here.

***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. 

Staving off the Rejection Blues

This first half of 2019 is turning into rejection season for me. I normally have better luck in the Fall and Winter but I'd be lying if I told you it doesn't still get to me. However, I refuse to let it get me down, so I have decided to post a link to a post of mine from 2008. It's one of my favorites and it, I hope, puts situations such as these in their proper perspective.

Read the post here.

Reading it helped me remember where I started out and where I am now. Perhaps it will help others with their own struggles with self-doubt and uncertainty...

Free Short Story No More.

Several months ago I posted a two-part installment of my short horror story titled "Marge," which originally saw publication in the "Hospital" anthology published by the now defunct Static Movement Press. It was based on an experience I had while visiting my mother in the hospital.

I left the story up far longer than I'd intended. Statistically, it did rather well. A respectable amount of views were earned for part one and exactly half of those people returned for part two. It it had been a TV show it would've been picked up for the rest of the season. But after a while it just sort of sat there and, frankly, I would prefer not leaving it somewhere that anyone can copy and paste it.

I wrote all that to announce that it will be showing up on my Patreon page, most likely next month.
So if you haven't read it and you want to, I'm afraid you'll have to commit to at least a dollar per month in order to do so.

*Correction*

In reference to the post about my short story "Soulmate Express" not having ever been published, thanks to a keen-eyed co-worker, I know that it was!

She located it on my Twitter page which I haven't used in nearly a decade (image below)

Now if I could just locate the damn thing!

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 

It's Nice to be a Favorite

This reader chose my story in "The Best of the Horror Zine: The Early Years." as one of his four favorites.

Check out the Horror Zine Magazine Cover!

Horror Zine Publisher and Editor Jeani Rector decided the previous cover she was going to use was "too intense" and went with the one pictured below:

I love it but I can't stop chuckling. Only in the realm of horror fiction would this cover not be considered too intense!


The Spring 2019 issue will feature my new short story, "The Time of Expansion," an odd one even coming from me. It really shows how influential Lovecraft was on the field; no matter how much of  a bastard he was in real life or how purple was his prose, the man's flawed brilliance bleeds over into modern work even when the author isn't consciously channeling him. Maybe I was channeling him, considering how ineffectual and uptight the protagonist is. He's a perfect symbol of Lovecraft's obsession with the English gentleman cliche.

It will be out soon!