And my writing has been called disturbing???

Just as he was rising to prominence as one of the greatest spin doctors in media history by claiming he was dwelling in some "No-Spin Zone" of his own imagining, former tabloid scumbag turned neo-con carnival barker Bill O'Reilly released a self-serving novel in 1998.

Entitled "Those Who Trespass," the novel concerned a virtuous O'Reilly-like TV host who was programmed by the IRA to kill everyone who ever sabotaged his career while having sex with minors and lamenting his nights "snuggling" with his dad as a child. The novel contained some of the most disturbing prose in recent memory and aided in the slow yet sure decline of Random House's reputation for quality.

Below are some of the lines from the novel that stand out the most (Keep in mind much of the sex is taking place with a minor):

"Say baby, put down that pipe and get my pipe up."

"Cup your hands under your breasts and hold them for ten seconds."

"Off with those pants."



As an Amazon commentor put it, "Nothing, and I really mean nothing, gets me as hot and bothered as reading about a 15 year old doing that fellatio business after hitting a crack pipe." This is the guy who decries violence in media and then firmly embraces it in what another reviewer referred to as a "cockroach-infested tome."

It appears as though O'Reilly missed is rue calling: Horror-porn~

An author's thoughts on self-publishing

My colleague Great Lakes Association of Horror Writers author and editor Montilee Stormer comes out swingin' on the topic of self-publishing!

Whether you agree totally with her or not, she makes several good points and doesn't mince words.

Submission Accepted. (Advice for those who dread rejection.)

I was recently asked by Suspense Magazine to review books for them. One of the first three they sent me was Twice the Terror, the second collection by online horror magazine The Horror Zine. The book was filled with business cards arranged throughout advertising the magazine and encouraging those who gazed upon it to "Submit your stories poetry, or art."

"What the hell? "I thought. I'd just had a story rejected and since my rule is to resubmit within 24 hours, I chose a story I'd written as a throw-away and sent it along.

It was accepted within 24 hours!

The editor wrote:

Hi Christopher. I read your story Always Say Treat with interest. It is a very good story; highly original. I like it very much and I want to welcome you into The Horror Zine.

Even though the theme of your story is Halloween, since we are a horror magazine, it is Halloween all year round for us. That said, the earliest I can fit you in is April 2011.

Let this serve as some form of inspiration to those who dread rejection. It's part of the process and it is not the end of the world. It's also a numbers game, to some extent. Sending out one thing only won't cut it. At any given time I have five or six stories in rotation.

It's not for the faint at heart, but getting published is the best experience a real writer can have. Keep it up or walk away if you can't handle it.

One Angry Op/Ed piece!

You won't be seeing anything this stark and honest in a mainstream publication!

Pics from my two recent speaking engagements

I appeared at the Downtown Main Branch of the Detroit Public Library two Saturdays in a row with my fellow Great Lakes Association of Horror Writers to discuss first the creative process and then getting published. See if you can tell which pic was taken on the day I was told I'd be speaking five minutes before the event started:















Oh, look. I have a power-point presentation and am looking down as if reading from prepared comments.





















Hmm. Not looking quite as relaxed as before...

















UH-oh, he's leaning on the podium, desperately seeking to establish eye-contact in order to compensate for a total lack of preparation!

Opening line:
Me: Hello.
Audience: Hello.
Me: That's about all I came prepared to say today so bear with me.









Of course, I was told it sounded like a prepared speech. A good time was had by all~

A NANO novel excerpt Michiganders should appreciate.

Before Munson could respond with further hostilities, the motorcycle rider pulled around them, moving into the opposite lane and was nearly struck head-on by a truck driver who laid on his horn and narrowly avoided hitting him. Seemingly unperturbed by his near death experience, the biker gunned his engine and passed Munson and Darcy as if they’d com to a full stop.

“I always heard the drivers in Detroit were nuts,” Munson said.

“We’re far from Detroit, Munson.” She stared through the windshield and frowned. She’d experienced a brief moment of déjà vu when the biker passed them but had no idea what could have caused it. It wasn’t important. She just had to make sure she avoided any uncomfortable situations while she was here.

They reached Detroit a few hours later, still much too early to go snooping around public offices. Munson wisely decided they needed to get some rest and followed his GPS to a three-star hotel in the town of Hazel Park, a blue collar town known for its women still sporting Eighties hairstyles and pick-up trucks adorned with rebel flags. However, this time of night it was a rather quiet place, deceptively peaceful, in fact, The only other traffic they saw consisted of two guys with long hair rockin’ out to hopelessly outdated hair band metal in a slow-moving Seventies-era Buick Skylark and the cop who decided to harass them.

Munson raised an index finger and thumb as he passed them and let out a loud, “Whooooooo!” Darcy laughed and playfully hit him in the shoulder.

Munson smiled. “I can feel my IQ points dropping into NASCAR fan levels.”

“I wouldn’t expect a man who believed in all of humanity’s right to know the truth to be such an elitist.”

“Who’s an elitist? I’m just rockin’ on with my bad self.”

Another Excerpt from the NANO novel.

People were such assholes these days, even worse than just a few years ago. Like Franny Franklin wrote on her website, “The tools of Satan are getting angrier and angrier and they don’t even know why! I know why! Because we’re going to kick their demonic butts back to the depths of the Earth!”

That was all fine and dandy but when actually faced with a gray-faced apparition seemingly hell-bent on communicating with you, all those bad ass words faded into a sea of easily forgotten hyperbole. Gabe’s ghost was following him and appearing at the most bizarre times and there was nothing he could do but pretend he wasn’t freaked out when other people were around. Sadly, those “other people” included his mother, who wouldn’t understand. If anything, she’d probably think he was on “the drugs” and take him back to Doctor Fenway.

He didn’t need a goddam shrink, he needed answers. Something was happening and, whether it sounded egotistical or not, it seemed to be centered around him.

An Excerpt from the NANO novel.

The only reason she hadn’t fought him on this was because he’d been smart enough to show her the article.

“Oh, my God,” she’d said in a hushed whisper. “Those people…My God.”

She was reading about the hotel fire in Michigan that had claimed an undetermined number of lives. The thing about the Internet that still amazed Munson was its immediacy. The fire had just occurred a few hours ago and the bloggers and website journalists were already discussing it as if it was last week’s tragedy. Munson told her to pay special attention to the second to last paragraph.

He watched her read it, waiting patiently for her knee-jerk scientific explanation. Imagine his surprise when she didn’t offer one.

“Spontaenous generation?” she said. “That many people at once? Bullshit.”

“How can you say that? Look how many witnesses there were!”

“Yes, Munson, I know. I’m not disputing the burning people but the writer’s ridiculous theory.”

Munson, who had gotten himself all tense and ready for a shouting match, visibly deflated like a flesh-covered balloon at that. “Well, what’s your theory?”

“I don’t have one yet.” She pushed herself away from the motel room desk and got to her feet. “That’s why I’m not an Internet writer.”

Submission: Accepted!

The editor of Sci Fi Short Story Magazine found my first story to be a non-fit for his magazine although he made sure to stress that the rejection was neither a criticism of the actual writing of the piece nor a discouragement against future submissions. I took him at his word and submitted another story entitled, "No More Goodbyes."

It was accepted.

The editor wrote, "It gripped me from the beginning."

What a nice way to ring in Daylight Savings Time~

My work will be read on the radio this Halloween!

This story will be read on this show.

It airs at 8:30 am. but it can be heard anytime throughout the entire day.

Tune in and let me know what you thought!!!

A stunning endorsement! Better do as they say!

Order my novel here or here.

Don't wait until they've sent Cruse & Travolta after you!!!