Malevolent forces, that weird feeling, avoiding despair, and keeping on
A lot of things and a lot of nothings
Hello everyone! It’s the weekend, so I hope you’re doing something that fills your soul. I’ve never really found my stride with newsletters, blogs, these kinds of things after the television news station I worked for years ago said, “Shut down your blog or you can’t work for us.” Strange thing to say, yeah? That’s just control. And I hate control. Ever since then I get this weird anxiety when I write a newsletter or blog, as if some big claw might reach from a horror movie sky-portal, shut me down, snatch me into a starless void. Lately, however, I know I have to engage more, to talk. It’s good for me. And maybe I do have some wisdom about writing, creativity, birding, something. Either way, expect more of these. So here I am, getting over my whatever. Let’s talk.
How it feels
The Deading has been out a few months, so how do I feel? Squirmy is a good word. In this industry there are big sweeping positives, strange dark negatives, black clouds, unexpected surprises and disasters, and beams of wonderful light. Just about every emotion you can imagine smacks you in the face. I try to stay focused on the positives, happy to meet new writers, new readers, new editors, all kinds of folks. The absolute best is when someone who reads The Deading reaches out, has a conversation with me. I love when readers talk about their perceptions of the story, how deeply they feel about a character, or just how unsettled they got when reading about slithery things. Some even want a sequel. Some just want to read more of my horror writing. That’s positive. The enthusiasm readers share injects me with motivation. It’s a challenging industry, and archaic, and unfair, and glorious. I’ll say this, I’m glad I have another book coming out. But beyond that? I don’t know. It’s all too uncertain, which is why again, I focus on the positives, the here and now, The Deading, and what’s coming up on June 24, 2025, Ten Sleep. Can’t wait to tell you who is illustrating the cover. I focus on that, and on my next project. I have to, yeah?
Malevolent forces
Been working on a couple novels. The universe speaks to me sometimes, kinda gifts me ideas, or maybe these are curses? I love curses, I guess. Yes, I do! I get obsessed with them, it’s what we writers do, get obsessed with the stories we’re cursed to write. Then we have to work until the story takes shape, until we realize, yes, continue, or, no, the curse has said this one is an abomination, it must die-e-e. One of those gift/curses is a tale I thought might be one of those abominations. But I’ve been cursed with making it work, and found a way . . . It’s a story filled with malevolent forces festering in the earth, in the spirits of the dead, that get into people because of a traumatic event that transpires . . . Can I say more? Don’t think so. Better not. Anyway, I love demon possession movies, but in storytelling, a demon can be anything, just a malevolence that gets in you so deep you don’t want to let go, so it felt right when I came across a title not long ago that jumped out at me, or maybe entered me, shook me, said, we are writing this, now—that idea you’ve had, this is it, the title, and it needs you now now now. While I have a few other novels I’m tinkering with, this is the one that also declares, I shall be fully created and make sure some of it is a love letter to the 1980s. Hmm. Okay. Yes. We do that.
Don’t despair
Many writers exist in a state of despair. That’s the ugly thing that sometimes rears its head with artists of any kind, musicians, painters, writers . . . Seems like when I’m on Insta that every Threads suggestion is by some writer despairing over an aspect of the industry they might have no experience with, are angry about, and are filled with hateful expectations. The rallying cries of negativity usually leave me running from the echo chamber so I don’t get sucked in. And I hate that social media wants me to be sucked in to these despairing convos. On rare occasion though . . . I do get pulled in and read every kernel, then start to write a comment response, then run away, usually down a trail to find a rare warbler like the Northern Parula that I found (in the header pic). It is that season after all—fall migration. Anyway, sometimes I get too hyper focused on those negative parts of the industry, those parts that can feel controlling, blocking, or cliquish. When I do, I have to tell myself to ignore everything, get back to writing, get back on the trail, read a book, build my craft skills. And I know you writers know this, and you have to refocus too. We little writers are up against huge obstacles and getting a two-book deal doesn’t mean I’ve made it or that if you get one that you’ve “made it.” What it does mean is that you’ve reached a goal, and that now you must move the goalposts. So you tell yourself to work harder than ever to keep making it, or you’ll be that song “500 Miles” by the Proclaimers, a one-hit wonder. Or heck, someone who gets signed to a music label who never gets a hit. You’re in the game though, and that’s good. And even if you’re not published yet, you have to tell yourself that you’re in the game too. Really. It’s true. It is all a big game. And you have it in you to not be a benchwarmer. You. Are. In. The. Game. Being in the game means you feel the pressure but do rise to the occasion. Don’t wanna keep at it? Okay, give up and play Bingo on your phone until you die. It’s right there, waiting for you to download the app. But screw that. Stay in the game. Breathe it in and live it even if you die trying.
Keep on
Why do you write? Ask yourself this every day because this is especially for you writers who need to know that you write because you’re driven, you write because you’re manic and relentless, you write because you’re already everything you need to be and you go go go and kick ass, you write because your characters tell you to, you write because you dream big. And the nasty, ugly truth of it? You write because writing is messy, stomach-churning, and on occasion, even if for a fleeting moment, so refreshing and filled with wonder, that you feel like you just created that thing that you always wanted to read.
You feel the pressure. I feel the pressure. We feel the pressure of writing, and have to keep the hell on. So, yeah, “I’m gonna get a book deal,” this is what we all chant. “It’s going to happen.” We chant this like weirdo writer gods, because we can control the work we put in. We can control our lives.
Until next time, take care, and keep at it. Please pick up The Deading, or gift it to a friend. And then let’s talk more.