Final Installment of "And I Watered It, In Tears" in Lamplight Magazine, Issue 4, And Why You Should Submit to Them

The year's final issue of Lamplight Magazine is out, featuring the final installment of my serial novella, "And I Watered It, In Tears." I know I spend a fair amount of time here pimping my work and announcing sales and all that, and again,  I have no idea if anyone really IS buying and reading my work, but I guess if I would pick ONE thing of mine that I'm proudest of to date, something I really poured a lot of emotion and personal experience into, something I would like ALL of you to read, it would be this story. 

The idea came to me waiting in line to pay our kinda-late NYSEG electric bill, when I marveled at what a social cross-section was there, waiting to pay their bills, also. I mean, most everyone has to pay their electric bill, right? And lots of people have probably been late on their electric bill now and then. I found in that experience a very common, almost universal, blue-collar struggle.



And, the novella's denouement is literally ripped from a wrenching personal experience that ALMOST came true. Luckily it didn't, but the possibility of what could've happened has haunted me for years, so when I saw where the novella was going when I first started writing it (about a year ago) I knew I was finally going to write about that experience, and it was hard, and very emotional, but also very cathartic. It sounds ridiculous, but the experience offered a revelation very similar to the one Ray Bradbury experienced when writing "The Lake" and I feel as if my stories from now on will be very different because of this novella.

Also, I felt as if I was trying very much to mix styles in this story. I wanted it laced with suspense and tried to end every segment with that "cliffhanger tug" because, of course, this was a serial novella, and I wanted to somehow pull readers issue to issue. BUT, I was also trying to go create some atmosphere but also punctuate that with brief, visceral (but hopefully not too grotesque) scenes of physical horror. I'm not sure how it all reads, but I know it's something I like very, very much, which is unusual for me. I feel like I actually DID something with this story.

And, something I think will happen a lot more lately: this could be called a "Clifton Heights" story, taking place in the small, haunted fictional Adirondack town that will debuting in my first collection, Things Slip Through, coming November 2013. I'm writing a lot of those stories lately, and I feel like I've got a lot of good stories about that town waiting to be written, novellas especially (I recently subbed a Clifton Heights novella to one big publisher, and am currently finishing another Clifton Heights novella for another fairly big publisher. Cross your fingers...)

Anyway, here comes the rare pitch: folks, if you get a chance - please check this serial novella out. The first installment is free, because the first issue of Lamplight is free. The following issues are only $2.99 in a variety of formats, and Issue Four is in Kindle and Smashwords, with other formats to follow:

Issue Two
Issue Three
Issue Four

In addition, I highly recommend submitting to Lamplight, as they're open again to submissions.  My experience with editor Jacob Haddon was extremely pleasant. He was professional, efficient, and gave excellent feedback regarding my novella. I think he's got a good plan: a quarterly ezine that will produce an annual "Year in Lamplight" print volume. And honestly, it's a sold, decent paying market, and we need more of those out there.

Anyway. If you get a chance, please give "And I Watered It, In Tears" a try. And writers, go forth and submit to Lamplight, and spread the word, also.

Maurice Broaddus's Visit: Good Wine, Great Food and Blending Families

Doesn't seem like it's possible, but just a little over a week ago, author Maurice Broaddus visited with my Creative Writing students at Seton for our third annual Creative Writing Workshop. One day he spent working with the participants themselves, critiquing their work, the next day he addressed a general assembly of students, discussing his career and what has brought him here.

The program was a success on all fronts. The kids loved Maurice, who seemed to enjoy himself; we got great media coverage, and most importantly, we raised the funds ourselves.


Probably the best part of the visit, of course, was just hanging out with Maurice, whom I haven't seen face to face in several years, though I've conversed regularly with him through email. I had a marvelous time hanging out with him, and we talked about a LOT of things, things I had questions about, and his answers - about life, writing, the business, faith - really helped clarify things for me in many areas.

One of the best elements of this visit was an added personal touch. Right before the workshop, a student's mother asked if Maurice needed a place to stay, because they happened to have a completely separate third-floor apartment they'd used many times in the past to host visiting musicians for the Binghamton Philharmonic. 

At the time I was just happy to save Maurice money on lodging, but the personal impact of him staying with a student's family was of incalculable value, especially because the student in question has been thinking quite a bit lately about a writing career. Maurice's first night in Binghamton, we both had dinner at this student's family cottage on Quaker Lake, and the conversation (and food) was nearly breathtaking. Another night, Maurice and his host family stayed up until 11 PM just talking. You just can't buy that kind of experience anywhere.

The capper, however, was Memorial Day. Because of some schedule changes (a student had a conflicting college visit) we flew Maurice out here on May 28th. May 29th was Memorial Day and no school, so I'd already planned on having Maurice over for dinner. To my immense delight, he told me that he'd been talking to another wonderful author, Mary Sangiovanni (who lives near), and they were planning on hanging out. I invited both of them for dinner...

And what a night. Mary brought her son, and after dinner we managed to blow 6 or 7 hours at my house without even noticing. The talk went everywhere - from writing to life to parenting and teaching, and Maurice kept us in stitches and tears half the time.  We all had a wonderful evening, and in many ways it was such a beautiful night for me, because I was able to - for a short period of time - blend my family life with my writing life, which, as any writer will tell you, is very hard. But for six hours, dear writing friends (one kind of family) and my family-family were in the same place, and it was wonderful.

And, I'm sure at times Abby got lost in a little of the writing and publishing talk, but luckily, the kids behaved really well, and she got herself a belly-full of laughs, courtesy of Maurice. I think Abby is even more eager to meet Maurice's wife Sally now, so a return trip to MoCon is very likely imminent, with the whole family in tow, this time. Because unleashing Madi and Maurice's boys upon the whole church just seems like the thing to do....

In any case, the whole experience really brought it home to me, once more, the real reason why we writers like to congregate together at Conventions. Sure, there are networking opportunities and the chance to make contacts, maybe even meet new readers, but really... we just want to be with our family. Memorial Day was so awesome this year, because I was lucky enough to have members of my writing family and my family in the same place, at the same time.

And that's an experience NO amount of money can buy.

Enjoy the clip of Maurice Broaddus on our local news, below.

Remembering Ray Bradbury: Redux

Two blogs in row. I know, right? Anyway, I felt like yesterday's blog was a bit rushed and didn't really touch upon how Bradbury's work has impacted me as a writer, especially recently, so I thought a supplemental blog was in order.

When I started writing, like many genre writers I'm sure and apparently like Bradbury (as stated in his biography, The Bradbury Chronicles), my stories were very imitative. I set out to write "horror" stories like the ones I'd read. Even AFTER I started widening my reading diet, I STILL found myself copying those who had come before me, copying their technique, style, and plots.

They weren't bad stories, so much. A few attempted to be thematic. But they weren't...me.


And that's what Bradbury wrote. Stories that were, in some way, even if very small....him. Stories that came from his personal experiences or observations or struggles. And after reading about his life, it's amazing how many of his short stories came from his personal experiences.

About a year ago, I started a journal, more like a list, really, of short story ideas, things that popped into my head from personal observations or experiences. The very first one of those to get written is my serial novella with Lamplight Magazine, "And I Watered It, In Tears." (First issue is free, second and third are on Amazon Kindle). Now, it's definitely horror. But the core of it comes from a frightening, deeply personal experience that still leaves me uneasy, even today.

Last summer, my daughter and I spent the night at my father's house, where I grew up.  I slept in my bedroom, IN MY BED. And before I went to sleep, I wrote twenty pages of what I think will be a coming of age novel, and it all came from my memories of growing up, and I practically have an outline of the novel, loosely based on a year from my life.

The current novella is based on a personal observation, something that I see every day when I drive to work, and also, I've made my protagonists very close to people I knew as a kid, even utilizing the first person narrative, making the barrier between my characters and myself very thin.

There's something...different, here. A fresher voice. Ideas that stream forth much easier. Along the way, I've switched over to typing first, and the results have been impressive. I have no idea how this will impact my writing, but that's been Ray Bradbury's gift to me: channeling personal experiences, writing very close to my heart, and simply sitting down and taking off, "rattling the keys" as Norman Partridge once put it.

And it feels good. It feels REALLY good. Will it make a difference?

Who knows?

But count me just one of thousands touched by Bradbury's magic....

Remembering Ray Bradbury

One year ago today, Ray Bradbury left us. That night, it rained, and the rainbow in this picture appeared over my house, I kid you not. It was the most fitting farewell I could possibly imagine for someone whose words touched so many.

I'll always remember what I was doing when I learned he'd passed. My freshmen had just finished what had become a weekly ritual: watching an episode from The Bradbury Theater. At the end I shut off the projector, checked the web, and saw it on Yahoo News...



Ray Bradbury had passed away just hours before.

Slightly numbed, I announced this to my class, and pin-drop silence followed, until one girl piped up in a somewhat somber voice: "Wait. That means he'll never writing anything, ever again."

As far as teachable moments, go - hell, LIFE moments - that was pretty big, and not one I could have ever arrived at through any kind of lesson plan, which, of course, makes it the best kind of moment possible.

All my students know my love for Ray and his work. Ever year, my freshmen read Something Wicked This Way Comes and Fahrenheit 451; my sophomore honors class reads Dandelion Wine and The October Country, and this year I also assigned The Halloween Tree for the first time. I shove Bradbury short stories at them like a drug dealer peddling his wares, hoping to hook them in the best way.

And I must've done something right, because on the first anniversary of his death, I held my first annual "Ray Bradbury Day" and gave away over 40 copies of his works, and half those went to students who have already read him, indicating that, hey...maybe my mad plan worked.

I can't put into words what his work has come to mean to me over the past ten years or so. For some reason, my high school teachers didn't assign Bradbury, so it took me awhile to discover him through my own searching, and then a little longer to fall in love with his work. 

When I did, it was a revelation, and his work has come to mean so much to me, not just because of his beautiful, poetic prose and vivid imagery...but because of his idealism, his zeal. I've had a hard time finding my place in the "horror" genre, finding my voice, and as I mentioned in a recent post, his work, Dean Koontz's work and the Twilight Zone has really had an effect on how I view my "calling" (if you will) as a writer.

Because of this revelation,  last summer, I proposed a challenge for myself: read one Bradbury short story every day, all through the summer. Of course, the real challenge proved in LIMITING myself to one short story a day which, I'm happy to say, I failed at. By the end of the summer, I'd read through five collections: The Martian Chronicles, The Illustrated Man, Golden Apples of the Sun, The October Country, and his 100 Best Stories collection.

198 Ray Bradbury short stories.

Also, I tried to put into effect something similar to the "Bradbury Daily Diet." In one of his essays, he recommended reading a short story, an essay, and a poem every single day. I've come somewhere near to that, and I feel like my mind is mapping out new, fresher story ideas than before. Whether or not this actually changes how I write remains to be seen.

This summer I will once again read Ray Bradbury. I just finished his wonderful biography - written by Sam Weller - The Bradbury Chronicles. I'm moving on to re-read Dandelion Wine and will follow that up with its sequel, Farewell, Summer. After that, I've got the following slated to be read:

Long After Midnight

From the Dust Returned

Now and Forever: Somewhere a Band Is Playing & Leviathan '99
Quicker Than the Eye

Now, I'll add more if I need to, but these are the ones on their way from Amazon at the moment. I believe this is going to become my biannual tradition: reading Something  Wicked This Way Comes  and The Halloween Tree during October, and reading the rest of his fiction during the summer.

And thankfully, there's plenty left there for me to read. A whole lifetime of work, actually...

Still searching for my voice....

Was reading this in Ray Bradbury's biography THE BRADBURY CHRONICLES, in regards to his earliest efforts: 

He imitated rather than trying to develop his own voice, spending his time copying Conan O'Doyle's SHERLOCK HOLMES, P. G. Wodehouse's JEEVES and Edgar Allen Poe's work. 

"Imitation is fine for awhile, but then you've got to move on and take a chance on something that's really you," Bradbury said.

I feel like this is still ME. I started off here in the horror genre, I love horror and what it has to offer, but in the past two years I've felt more and more that a lot of my efforts - though I'm proud of them - are simply imitations of "horror stories." 

The door was cracked a little when I discovered Charlie Grant and really started reading Ramsey Campbell, and in the past two years, diving into the Twilight Zone with my students, stuffing myself full of Bradbury and reading Dean Koontz's biography (and now Ray's) I feel like I want to reach...higher. 

I will always be a spec fic writer. I love the strange and bizarre and eerie and mysterious. It's how I'm wired. But I'm also deeply nostalgic and sentimental, idealistic and hopeful. BUT, I also believe there are things we'll never understand, tragedies and disasters that will never have explanations here on this earth, and life is filled with equal parts sadness and joy, nightmares and dreams, victories and failures.

I know one thing. I need to try harder to take chances on something that's really me.

But what if me...ISN'T horror? Or "horror" as people think of it?

We shall see...

Dandelions Blowing In the Wind, And Other Mundane Revelations of No Large Import

With summer coming,  as always I'll try to amp up my blogging frequency. I blog at least once a week over the school year, but over the summer I try to blog several times a week. Wish I could blog that much during the school year, but a lot of times it just isn't possible. 

Part of the issue, of course, is I have no idea  how many people actually READ this blog.  I try and disregard the stats, (because I don't want to get caught up in those sorts of things), so if I were to judge on comments alone, I'd say not many people ever stop by here. 



But I also know that's not necessarily true, just by the random comments I get from people over email or in person that go: "Hey, that was a nice blog you posted last week..." So I think a decent number of folks follow and read, they just don't comment much.

See, I've never  really been down with the idea of crafting these nifty little blogs with questions at the end specifically designed to stimulate readers into posting their opinions and comments. I don't know why. Some people are masters at this. I know folks who, by the strength of their topics alone, sometimes garner over hundreds of comments.

I just don't have it in me to do that. If I'm going to take the time to blog, it's going to be about stuff that matters to me, stuff I'm interested in, of course news about my writing, thoughts and plans  about the future, my concerns and fears and doubts, or ideas I'm threshing out or wrestling with. If people find that interesting, awesome.  I still don't think anyone has made ANY hard connection between sales and the types of things folks blog about.

BUT, in this new publishing age, a regular, consistently active presence on the 'Net  is important, and I'm more likely to be active if I blog about  stuff I'M interested in. If other folks want to come along for the ride, fabulous.

So, let's talk about dandelions.

Friday, Richard Wright posted a blog in his continuing series on making the freelance leap to writing full-time. In it, he clarified reasons for The 52, a short story project he's embarking on. He referenced the below speech by Neil Gaiman (which is awesome), about the necessity of writers/artists being dandelions, doing something - anything - to spread the seeds of their art over as wide a canvas as possible:



Basically, Neil Gaiman's point: the publishing industry is radically changing. And honestly, no one knows where it's going to end up. In such an industry, the best thing to do is....

Something.

Something interactive. Something fun. Something imaginative, something engaging, inspiring, something dear to your heart. It's important to make stuff. Make art. Make opportunities. Try everything, fail, and try something else. Print, digital, both, one or the either, traditional publishing, self publishing....Neil's advice is to, basically....

Try it all.

November 2013 will see the release of my first short story collection, Things Slip Through, through a traditional small press. I have a novel I'll be pitching to mid-list publishers soon. I have novellas at several other small presses, and the final installment of my serial novella, "And I Watered It, In Tears" will be featuring in the epub Lamplight Magazine, to be published in its entirety in their print Volume One at the end of the summer. I read submissions for a big horror magazine, and I have an ongoing podcast called Horror 101, (like the Facebook Page), studying the development of the horror genre at Tales to Terrify, the solo episodes of which I've been slowly posting to my YouTube Channel. 

I'm no Neil Gaiman, but hopefully, I'm blowing some seeds into the wind. Where they'll land I have no idea, or if they'll take root, or just get drowned out by all the other voices, but the more I can use the internet to  spread these seeds, the better, because what is becoming a greater and greater financial reality (especially as my wife prepares to finish her nursing degree), is that I won't be attending many Conventions in the future. 

But this is a new age, one that certainly hasn't made conventions obsolete...but maybe not as necessary as before. I reference self-publishing, FULL TIME WRITER Robert Swartwood. I'm not sure how many Cons he attends, or if he attends them at all. What I DO know is that he's turned self-publishing into a full-time gig, he's busy writing, and getting one of his novels, The Serial Killer's Wife, on the USA TODAY's Bestseller list.

So I've been tinkering and thinking for several months about doing something...different. I've made a Facebook page for the short story collection, and I'm grappling with how to utilize that. I haven't sent invitations and probably won't until the collection's release is imminent. 

But I want to USE the page for something. I don't want it just to offer another avenue for pimping my work, although pimping will go on, as a necessity. BUT, I want to OFFER something to those who 'Like' the page, something that my average Facebook friend won't get. There needs to be a REASON, a BENEFIT to Liking the page.

So I'm tinkering with something called The Shelf. It'll be a little like Richard Wright's "The 52." And I hope that not only will it spread my "seeds" but that it will also engage folks in a unique, communal story-telling experience. We'll see. If you want to know what's on The Shelf please "Like" the page.

In closing, talented author and blogger Mike Duran posted a blog recently musing about why we keep at it, what our reasons are for slugging it out, day after day, in this thing called "writing." I used to have a lot of "high-falutin" ideas about why I write, why I spend so much time at this. In the last two years, however, I've tossed a lot of those, refining it down to one simple thing: I really like writing.

I really like making stuff up.

And I want to have fun doing it.

Of course I want to advance my "career," conquer larger markets, move up the ladder. But once it stops becoming something I HUNGER to do every day...what's the point?

So, The Shelf.  Maybe it'll blow a lot of dandelion seeds that will spread and take root. Maybe not. Maybe it'll just be a learning experience, a kind of wistful failure.

BUT, I'm hoping to have fun with it.

And I hope you will too.

A Clarification of Sorts On Writing Full Time

Recently, I posted this FB status update:

"Y'know, after all this time, I sometimes still have a hard time accepting that all I'll ever be is a part time writer. But (and only locals will get this) Chuck Akulis and Mike Colsten were part-time race car drivers, and it's not like they didn't go for the win, every single time they took to the track. They just worked a day job, is all. And I suppose it's the same for me whenever I write. And I'm okay with that."

..and I think in retrospect I didn't quite convey the revelation I wanted to share, so I thought a clarification was in order.

In no means am I despairing of a "full time writing career" or giving up my goals of moving up the ranks, conquering new markets and aiming for mid-list publication and higher.  I'm still thinking very hard about what I want to do next in my "career," thinking very heavily about which markets I'd like to submit to and I've got several standards in place because of that. 

For example, I think the small press is a viable market for short stories, novellas, and collections. I won't, however, submit a novel to a small press. In fact, at this point I'd rather invest time and finances self-publishing a novel than send it to a small press, (unless said small press is Cemetery Dance, Thunderstorm, Dark Fuse or other top-flight small presses), because I just don't think it's a good business decision.

Also, I don't plan on passing up on decently paying venues. Honestly, I need to make more happen in regards to this, especially with short stories, hence my recent experiment to force myself to type my first drafts from now on and my goal to write one short story a week this summer.

But the realities of my life are this: full-time writing simply isn't a possibility right now and won't be in the foreseeable future for several very solid, real-world reasons:

1. our finances are in a tatters and we're on a strict budget and NOT full-time writer friendly

2. Abby will soon be returning to school to finish her Nursing degree and will need my increased support at home

3. I have two children, 8 and 6, my son being special needs (autistic) and even though developing fabulously, he still requires A LOT of attention

4. See #1: I'm not in the position to turn self-publishing into a viable venue or travel to many Cons

5. I'm still building a readership and trying to make contacts and my way in the industry

Now, some of these above things will just need time to sort out, especially 1, 2, 4.  Number 5 will hopefully happen on its own and I hope the increased writing pace will help that. Number 3 will improve also...but Zack's future is still unclear. He may become totally independent someday. He may not. That's still up in the air.

And really, a lot of Number 5 is up in the air also. I know plenty of fine writers who never achieved the readership they hoped for, despite doing all the "right" things, and there are many "right" things that should be done...that may or may NOT result in a readership.

So the best I can do is write every single day, continue to watch the market carefully, make smart choices and keep my aims high. And let's be honest, even if I become massively fortunate I'll probably never SOLELY write for our income. Though someday I'd like to move on from Seton, I love teaching too much to ever stop doing it completely, so I imagine - unless I get too burned out - I'll always hold some sort of teaching job. Ironically, one of the teaching jobs I REALLY covet  - in Seton Hill's Popular Fiction Program - requires a certain level of commercial success, so that's doubly important to me.

But right now and in the foreseeable future full-time writing simply isn't a viable goal, especially with what full-time writing means for most: juggling multiple projects at once to make enough money, meeting multiple deadlines and producing lots of content very quickly. 

And because of that I experience a lot of "writer guilt/insecurity" in which I often think of myself as somehow "less" than those who have achieved full-time status or who are almost there, accusing myself - most times subconsciously - of not working as hard as other writers.

My grandfather raced stock cars as a hobbyist on the weekends for the sheer enjoyment of it. Because of that, my father grew up at Five Mile Point Speedway watching his dad race, and I in turn grew up watching the races every Saturday night with my Dad and Grandfather. Memories of those times generated my FB post about those two local race car drivers, because I realized that my status as a writer - full-time or part-time - doesn't say anything about my EFFORT or my TALENT, just my time commitment at the moment. 

Mike Colstin and Chuck Akulis began racing back in the late sixties and their careers extended all the way into the new millennium.  Though they only raced part-time and held down full-time jobs on the side, they competed against and regularly beat full-time drivers like Jack Johnson and Brett Hearn. Their status as "part-time drivers" had NOTHING to do with their effort or skill. They were just as good as the full-time drivers they competed against. Their time commitment was different, as was their travel. 





And all that meant for me was a very personal revelation that, like those two guys, my being a part-time writer has nothing to do with how hard I'm working (as for talent, well, the jury is still out on that for me, anyway). I get up every morning in the wee hours to write every day. I write during my lunch. And now, with the increased typing, I've been writing during my daughter's swim practices and pretty much whenever I can. 

But because of circumstances I can't control or change at the moment, I'm a "part-time" writer (and there's still that whole talent issue). However, I work as hard as anyone else.

So that Facebook post was simply my way of dealing with NOW, because to hopefully someday become full-time I have to SURVIVE now, and coming to grips with and accepting my current "station in life" is the only way I'll ever do that.

At a recent NECON, Jack Ketchum said on a panel: "If you stick around long enough and you're good enough, someone will eventually notice you." The first part is what I can control. I plan on sticking around. Whether or not anyone notices I can't control, but to keep writing TODAY so I can stick around, I have to let go of that last part, and just be thankful for the words themselves.