Posts Tagged ‘anti-Semitism’

My menorah tonight on the eighth night of Hanukkah. The holiday for celebrating miracles and fighting against erasure.

As I’m writing this, it’s the eighth and final night of Hanukkah. And this Hanukkah has been different from all other Hanukkahs before.

If you weren’t aware, on Sunday, December 14, a menorah lighting ceremony was held at Bondi Beach in Sydney, Australia, only to be interrupted by two gunmen, a father and son. They killed eighteen people before the father was taken down by a nearby bystander and then shot by police. The father is now dead, and the son is now in critical condition and under arrest.

I first found out when I woke up that Sunday morning. I turned on my phone, and there was a message in the family group chat from my dad. He and my stepmom have been in Australia since before Hanukkah, and they were just in Sydney a couple of days before. They assured us they were fine, and that they were in a different part of the country when it happened. I went and looked up what happened. My first reaction was horror, followed by relief that my dad and stepmom were okay, and then more horror.

I spent the rest of the day in something of a slump.

Within a day, however, my feelings had changed. I was angry, but also, I was defiant. Because I remembered something important about the holiday of Hanukkah: why we celebrate it in the first place.

For those unaware, the events that inspired Hanukkah occurred about one or two centuries before Jesus walked the Earth. The land of Judea was ruled over by Seleucid Empire, and the Seleucid ruler suddenly decided the Jews had to leave their religion and worship the Greek gods. Instead of complying, the Jews started a guerilla rebellion so that their religion and way of life wouldn’t be erased.

A war against erasure.

The Triumph of Judas Maccabeus by Peter Paul Rubens

The attack on August 14th was an act of erasure. The attackers were terrorists seeking to cow Jews and drive us into hiding, or make us too afraid to practice our religion. And while the only thing that’s been confirmed about their motives is that they pledged allegiance to the Islamic State, there’s a strong possibility they were also motivated by antisemitism masquerading as anti-Zionism. Just like the Seleucid Empire years ago, they were trying to destroy who we are by destroying lives and shedding blood.

They won’t succeed. Over the past week, I’ve heard from many Jews who won’t let themselves to be erased. I’ve seen posts about celebrating Hanukkah, Jewish identity, and explaining what Zionism is go viral online, including a few of mine.* I’ve read of world leaders and normal people issuing their condolences and support for the Jewish people and even the State of Israel (though they still criticize Netanyahu’s government, which I totally agree with). I’ve heard from so many non-Jewish friends who have checked in on me and let me know they’re thinking of me.

And I’ve felt a renewed pride in Jewish identity and culture. Not just from myself, but from others. Like this incident, as horrible as it is, has galvanized us. Made us think, “No, we don’t care how loud the anti-Semites and those who want Israel destroyed are! We will continue to exist! We will be Jewish! And if people want to destroy us or the country that was created for us, they can try. We’ll fight back.”

It’s the last night of Hanukkah. Tomorrow at sunset, the holiday will end. But the holiday which started with such tragedy is ending with Jews embracing who they are and shouting it loudly to the world. And we will go forward not being afraid. We will stay vigilant and we will still keep security at our institutions, but we will not be afraid.

We are Jewish. We are proud. And we are not going away. Photo by cottonbro studio on Pexels.com

Like the Maccabees who fought against the Seleucid Empire, we will fight to keep from being erased. And next year, we will light the menorah with renewed pride, love, and determination. Maybe even on Bondi Beach, just to show how not scared we are. And if anyone tries to stop us?

Well, screw them. We fought a war to keep from being erased once. And while I doubt we’ll need to fight another one, we’re more than willing to fight if we need too. Have no doubt about that!

*I may talk about what Zionism is in a future post, but to put the philosophy simply, it’s the belief that the Jews should have a nation of their own where they can exist, defend themselves, and determine their own fate. Preferably, that land should be in the Holy Land of Israel, also called Zion, where the Jews have had a continuing presence since centuries before Jesus existed, and continue to have a presence today.

It’s not a genocidal neo-Nazi death cult, which makes absolutely no sense (Nazis hate Jews!). That’s all, and I’m not taking and questions or criticism at this time, thank you very much. Like I said, that might be another post.

Photo by Juan Pablo Serrano on Pexels.com

All you need to do is turn on the TV or go online to see that, particularly in the US, we’re in scary times. This is the first year in several years where the White House or the federal government as a whole haven’t acknowledged Pride Month, and governments around the world are rolling back rights for the LGBT community, especially for trans people. In the past two months, there has been a huge rise in the number of violent attacks against Jews and Jewish institutions, with the most recent being the attack on a run to bring awareness to hostages held captive in Gaza a week ago today.

And at the time I’m writing this, National Guardsmen and Marines are being forced at the direction of the President to attack people in LA protesting the ICE raids on immigrant communities.

And this is just a fraction of all the horrible things that have been happening to marginalized communities lately. Honestly, it’s not hard to feel afraid. I’ve certainly felt quite nervous on more days than one, especially after the attack at the Jewish Capital Museum last month. It doesn’t help that some of these actions seem to come from national governments, like the rollback of federal protections and celebrations on marginalized communities, or the UK Supreme Court ruling on sex and gender identity in April.

And I know that, with how scary it is lately, it feels very easy and somewhat natural to retreat into yourself and distract yourself with only books and TV and things that make you feel good. And I totally get that; there are days when I want to do nothing but watch anime or read books. And if you need to take care of your mental health, you should totally do that. DO NOT ignore your own well-being.

But if writing horror has taught me anything (and it’s taught me many things), it’s that we have to stand up to what scares us if we want to not only fight back but move forward. In fact, horror often teaches me and my fellow horror fans how to deal with current events, because what scares us, including in current events, often makes it into our stories. So, we need to stand up to what’s happening right now and for what we believe in.

So, what can we do? Well, some years ago, I heard a Christian minister say this during an event to commemorate Martin Luther King day: “Sometimes, the least you can do, and often what can say the most, in hard and scary times, is to be there and to ask if someone needs a hand.” Those words have stuck with me through the years, and I think that, right now, that’s a good place to start. Sometimes, just showing up and saying you support them and want to help can do wonders!

In fact, I know this from personal experience. Last week, after the attack in Boulder, some of my non-Jewish friends posted on social media their condemnation of the attacks, and how committing violence, especially against innocent people, was never okay. After hearing condemnations from mainly my fellow Jews and not enough from outside the community, seeing that support helped alleviate so much of my negative feelings.

So, at the very least, show up. Whether that be by showing up at an event or making your voice known online, asking how you can help can help those in marginalized communities feel that much safer and supported, and give them the strength to fight back against oppression. And if you feel safe enough to, please show up to events, reach out to your elected representatives, or sign your name to petitions. And,, of course, donate to organizations that help out with these causes. Doing so may feel like small gestures, but they can have huge impacts. Hell, during the first Trump administration, lawyers at the DOJ did confirm that the protests against certain policies did have an effect on what actions the administration took during the rest of the term.

So, don’t be afraid to show up and to ask what people need. Your little act may end up having the greatest impact on both someone else’s life, and on the world as a whole.


That’s all for now, my Followers of Fear. I’ve been wanting to post something like this for a while now, but what’s happening now really made it a priority. Honestly, I wish I could do more, like that nationwide protest on Saturday against the military parade and a certain someone acting like a king. But as you know, I’ll be at StokerCon during that time. At the very least, I’ll be on a panel about including marginalized communities in horror and pitching a novel that puts my money where my mouth is. So, at the very least, I’m helping out in that way.

Anyway, until next time, my Followers of Fear. I hope you’ll take the message of this post to heart. Stay safe out there while still helping where and when you can. And until next time, good night and pleasant nightmares.

Photo by Minhazur Rahman and downloaded from Vecteezy.

I do this post every year, and you guys seem to like it, so I’m doing it again. Let’s talk about 2023 and what we hope will happen in 2024.

I think everyone will agree with me that 2023 was a mixed bag. Not the rollercoaster out of hell that 2022 was, but definitely a mixed bag. Among the good things that happened, the pandemic was declared mostly over and we are getting back to some degree of normal now; my home state of Ohio voted to enshrine reproductive rights in our state constitution and legalized marijuana, which was a big deal; the Hollywood writers and actors strike were successful, allowing both groups to earn more money for their work and putting protections in against AI; an AI Safety Summit was held to discuss how nations should approach AI as it develops; Doctor Who returned with a bang (check it out, it’s awesome); and more.

Unfortunately, a lot of bad stuff happened this year as well. There was a massive train derailment in Ohio earlier this year that released a lot of chemicals into the area, and who knows how long that will take to clear up; the war between Russia and Ukraine continues, and Hamas terrorists attacked Israel, leading to a war that’s still ongoing today; anti-Semitism has risen in record numbers around the world, leaving many of my people feeling scared and alone; multiple mass shootings occurred throughout the year, leaving many dead who shouldn’t have died; the prices of gas and food have risen like crazy, which has made affording necessities more difficult than it already was; and more.

Like I said, mixed bag.

And on a personal level, 2023 was a mixed bag as well. On the down side, work was hellish this year, with multiple problems cropping up throughout the year that required my coworkers and I to work long hours and try to find ways to deal with it. We’re still working through problems, some old and some newer. Some of us, myself included, even have to go into the office three days a week before the rest of the workforce just to keep up. Oh yeah, we’re going from one just one day a week in the office to three in the new year. Another downside.

Also, I got in an accident and had to replace my car (that was awful); I had to find a new insurance company after the accident (that was annoying); my friends and I had to close Cracked Skull Press, which sucked; I underperformed at a lot of events I usually do well at; my anxiety and a bit of depression went to work on me, thanks to the Israel-Hamas conflict and the resulting anti-Semitism; and quite a few other things happened that really brought down my enjoyment.

Getting this out earlier this year was definitely a highlight of 2023.

Still, there were some good things. On the writing front, I was able to release Hannah and Other Stories, and while the reviews have been coming slower than I would like, they’ve all been very positive, and even in major publications; I also released “The Wild Hunt” in the Happy Hellidays anthology, which people have been LOVING; I got to go to StokerCon, which was a dream come true and a ton of fun; despite not doing as well at certain events as usual, I’ve been doing really well financially on the writing front, thanks in part to a grant and certain events; and I wrote what I think is some really good work, and I’m still writing some of that work.

(Some other stuff happened on this front too, but I can’t get into them until certain things are made official.)

Outside of writing, I turned thirty, and celebrated it with a blast, as well as found being thirty wasn’t as awful as I’d worried; I got to see some amazing Broadway shows and got addicted to their soundtracks (if you ever have the chance, go see SIX and Beetlejuice live); I got my full-back tattoo, which I’ve been working on since last year, finished; I had some big firsts in my condo, including my first Passover seder and first overnight guest; I made it quite far through the Face of Horror contest, and got plenty of side benefits from it as well; and a bunch of other stuff happened.

So yeah, mixed bag. But at least I can end the year saying that there was more good than bad, at least on a personal level.

So, what’s next for 2024? Well, I hope I can write, edit, and publish more stories, including finishing my mummy novel Crawler; I’d like to take a long, two-week vacation at some point and just spend it between totally lazy and writing my brains out; I look forward to traveling to some of my favorite haunted locations and maybe catching some weird shit on camera (more on that later); I hope to do more renovations to my condo as I build up my savings towards them; and perhaps, if God is kind, I can get that much closer to writing full time.

I also hope on the world stage things calm down and we can go through a year without losing any respect for humanity as a whole. But with two wars and an upcoming presidential election, I’ll call this hope a long shot.

Anyway, I hope that this post didn’t bum you out. Perhaps it gave you something to think about, or made you grateful for your 2023. Or even hopeful for 2024. I’m certainly trying to be hopeful, despite all the shit that goes on daily.

And with about 30 days left of 2023, I hope we all have a decent end to the year and enter the new year on a strong note.

How was your 2023, Followers of Fear? Anything good happen that you want to share? What about your hopes and plans for 2024? Let’s discuss.

Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com

Back in January, a gunman took a Texas synagogue hostage, making antisemitic statements and slurs while he was at it. The hostages were able to make it out alive, thanks in part to courses offered by law enforcement in case of terrorist action the rabbi and other members of the synagogue had taken.

This past week, a security guard at the Jewish day school I attended and graduated from, Columbus Torah Academy, was arrested. He had been making threats against the school and its students on social media, including photos of himself holding a gun and threatening to shoot parents picking up children. This was a man the teachers and students knew, saw often and maybe even trusted and liked! And he talked about killing the students, including young children, like they weren’t human.

And a few days ago, another man here in Ohio was arrested for making similar threats online. No word at this time if he’s connected to the security guard who threatened my old school, though it wouldn’t surprise me if they were connected.

These are just the most prominent incidents, or the ones I’ve heard of, in the United States. The Anti-Defamation League has tracked numerous incidents in just the past few days, ranging from graffiti and fliers to assaults and threats of violence. And there are more out there. There were two series of murders in Israel recently, for example. And God only knows how many others have happened out there.

It’s hard not to be afraid. My people have to take courses from law enforcement in case of hostage or shooting crises, of which we’ve suffered several in the past few years. I have to worry that the school I went to from fourth grade through graduation can’t trust the people hired to protect them. I have to worry that the school I went to has to hire security! And I have to worry because there are more of these monsters out there who think my people are an insidious influence on the world and that we need to be stamped out. That they’re planning on doing horrible things, together and independently, and bragging about it on social media as if it’s something to be proud of!

I’m afraid too. I don’t go to synagogue often, but when I do, I’m always mapping exits and checking to see who arrives who looks like they don’t belong, or are acting suspiciously, or are just openly carrying a gun around, because some people think that’s a good idea! I worry that next week, when Passover starts, I’ll be reading news articles about beatings, stabbings, shootings, and God knows what else.

And I’m angry. No one should have to live like this because of their beliefs and lineage.

And I can write stories where anti-Semites get their asses kicked and where Jews come out on top. And maybe some of them will get published. At least two already have, and I hope to have more on the way. But it only alleviates the stress I feel. It doesn’t make the problems go away. It doesn’t make anti-Semites change their beliefs or keep people from adopting anti-Semitic beliefs.

I want to do something to fix this problem. So that my people and I don’t feel as scared. So that I can walk into a synagogue without worrying about being shot. And so that more people know what you wonderful Followers of Fear already know: that the vast majority of Jews, like any group of people, just want to get along and live in peace.

I haven’t figured out what I’ll do yet. But if and when I do, I know I’ll go at it full-throttle as I usually do and probably make a difference. God help the anti-Semites who might try to get in my way.


Hey, Followers of Fear. I needed to get this off my chest after finishing a new story with Jewish themes/characters last night and reflecting on all the shit my people have gone through or might’ve had to experience recently. It’s a good way to take care of myself.

And that’s all for now. I was hoping to have some good news to share by now, but it looks like you’ll have to wait a little longer. As soon as I have something to share with you, though, I will. Until next time, good night and pleasant nightmares.

I would say pop some champagne, but I decided to abstain from alcohol this month. It’s healthy to do every now and then. I think I’ll stick to tea instead.

Okay, enough weird asides. As of this evening, I’ve finished a novella I started working on back in December, making this my first completed story of the year. The story is called “They Sleep Within the Rock,” it’s exactly one-hundred pages and is about twenty-six thousand, four hundred words. Which is just a bit shorter than I thought it would be.

As for the plot, the story is about a group of white supremacists that try to establish a “whites-only enclave” in the American West, only to find out that the land they’re on has a history to it, and may be cursed. The story was inspired by a news article I read about white supremacists trying to buy up land and housing in rural areas to establish their own mini ethnostates. Yes, that’s something they’re trying to do, and I hope they’re never successful at it.

Anyway, I read that article and thought, “I can write a story about that. There are so many ways to make a story about people trying to establish a place like this scary.” It took some brainstorming, but I managed to come up with something that I liked and, over three months, I got it written out. And I found it quite therapeutic, as well. There’s been such a rise in anti-Semitism in the US and worldwide lately, and the horrors reigned on my people, such as last month’s synagogue hostage situation in Texas, have been rising as well. It was nice to be able to visit some horror back.

That being said, I don’t know if the story is any good. It was therapeutic and I enjoyed writing it, but that’s no mark of a good story. Plus, I’m sure there are plenty of things that could use improvement in the story. Perhaps there’s even a need to rewrite certain parts.

Well, I’ll try to edit it later this year if I can. I say “later this year” and “if I can” because I’ll soon be editing the stories for my upcoming collection Hannah and Other Stories, so that’s obviously going to take up some time. And after so much editing, I may just want to write rather than edit another novella. But hey, at least whenever I do return to it, I’ll be able to see it with fresh eyes. That’ll be helpful, for sure.

So, what’s next? I think I’ll take the weekend to relax and refuel my creativity. I have an important blog post I want to put out before Valentine’s Day, so that’ll take priority. And I want to edit that superhero horror story I wrote last year and see if I can find a home for it. And after that…well, we’ll see what’s going on then.

But for now, though, I think I’ll hit the hay. Good night, my Followers of Fear. I hope wherever you are, the winter storm isn’t causing you too much trouble, and that you have pleasant nightmares.

What would happen if I featured my faith more in my stories? Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com

I’ve been thinking a lot lately on Jews in the media I consume.

As you probably know, in addition to being an eldritch abomination from another universe in human form, I’m Jewish (we need faith too, you know). I’m not super-religious, but I follow many rituals and feel close to my heritage and my definition of God. But except for a couple of stories, my religion doesn’t really show in my writing. Or at least, characters who share my faith don’t show up in my stories a lot.

There could be a lot of reasons for that. Part of it could be that horror, the genre I’m drawn to and find most exciting, doesn’t necessarily need religion. Horror may draw on religious beliefs a lot, but that doesn’t mean the stories are religious. Religious elements are just tools for telling a good horror story. Also, Judaism itself isn’t really a scary religion. We don’t have a Devil or Hell, and demons and evil spirits are still subservient to God’s Will and Plan. Beyond golems and dybbuks, the biggest sources of horror for us is our history of being oppressed. And finally, I may have never felt a real need to emphasize the beliefs of my characters. It just doesn’t matter that much. Unless I need to state it, their religion is, “Whatever.”

But lately, I’ve been thinking a bit about that. It started with an essay on Variety about Jews in Hollywood and how we’re represented that brought up some good points. I’ll let you read the article yourself, but it made me aware that I don’t see many members of my faith in the media I consume. And that includes in horror. Yeah, there are some: Stan Uris in IT; Yakov Ronen in The Vigil (one of the best horror films I’ve seen yet this year); Tzadok in The Possession (played by musician Matisyahu, believe it or not); and then some.

But still, it’s a small number. And in an age with resurgent anti-Semitism, I feel like that’s something that needs to change.

Besides, I want to challenge myself. What kind of stories can I tell with a Jewish character as a lead? And not just any kind of Jew, but an amalgamation of the Jews I’ve known throughout my life, from secular to religious and old to young, from all walks of life and all types of spirituality? What if I decided, for a few stories, not to make their religions “whatever?”

Well, I actually already know the answer to that. As you probably are aware, my short story “The Divorce from God” is to appear in The Jewish Book of Horror this holiday season, and a short story in this collection I’m working on has two Jewish men as the leads. And I like to think both stories are good (I only have confirmation of one).

But what if I expand that? What if I tell more tales–not all of them, but some of them–with my fellow members of the Tribe? What if their faith is both an aspect of themselves, though not the only one, and a source of strength? What if the lead is that amalgamation I mentioned?

Well, perhaps I’ll find out sooner rather than later. I’ve mentioned it before, but I’m thinking of working on another novel after I’ve finished editing this collection and a couple more stories. And while I don’t think it’s necessary for the lead, I can also see them being Jewish. It could actually fit them very well.

We’ll see what the future holds.

I look forward to the stories I write in this vein.

You know, it’s funny. At one point when I was young, a grown up tried telling me I should write less horror and more of what I know. Which at the time was mainly going to a Jewish day school, having rabbis for parents and being annoyed by my sisters. I absolutely refused, telling this well-meaning grown up “that would be boring.” I think they were worried I was going to turn out to be some psychopath who murdered people in basements and then wrote about it (we horror lovers and creators are so misunderstood!). Still, I wasn’t going to write something I wasn’t attracted to or found boring. Stories are an escape from reality, not a regurgitation!

Now I want to incorporate what I know into a horror story. I guess it’s true what they say, when people “write what they know,” they’re writing it in a completely different way than expected. I wonder that well-meaning adult would make of this now? Hopefully they’d be intrigued enough to read it (and realize I grew up much more well-adjusted than they anticipated).

Anyway, it’s late and this post has gotten insanely long. I’m going to sign off and say Shabbat Shalom, an early Happy New Year (Rosh Hashanah starts Monday evening, it’s our New Year), pleasant nightmares, and a good night. See you next time, my Followers of Fear!

Recently, the United States celebrated the first occurrence of Juneteenth as a federal holiday. For those unaware, Juneteenth commemorates when General Gordon Granger of the Union Army entered Galveston, Texas on June 19th, 1865 and announced the end of slavery there. This was two-and-a-half years after President Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation, though often emancipation had to be enforced by Union soldiers. Nevertheless, many African Americans count June 19th, known as Juneteenth, Jubilee Day, Black Independence Day, and Emancipation Day, as the day slavery ended and for celebrating African American culture.

President Biden signing the holiday into law makes Juneteenth the first new federal holiday since Martin Luther King Jr. Day in 1983. And hopefully, both holidays will now serve as opportunities to educate the masses on the history of African Americans in the United States and what they’ve gone through. It could even make for an interesting discussion when we contrast it with July 4th, Independence Day, which will be in just a few days.

That is, if teachers in certain states aren’t kept from talking about the stories behind Juneteenth and MLK Jr. Day by law.

If you’re from outside the United States or just haven’t heard, many state legislatures are enacting laws to try and keep teachers in those states from teaching Critical Race Theory, or any form of in-depth discussion of race’s effect on the history and culture of the United States. Opponents say that CRT or any other form of in-depth discussion as “left-wing propaganda” or “trying to shame white people for actions of the past.” Some of these bills have been passed into law, which might technically make discussion of why we have these holidays technically illegal.

Which worries me, because as we’ve seen, ignorance isn’t bliss. It only furthers divisions.

You probably heard of this, but recently, a certain United States congrresswoman compared mask mandates in the US to the Yellow Star worn by Jews in Nazi Germany and Nazi-controlled areas. This same congresswoman then defended herself, saying that any rational Jewish person would agree with her.

Well, I may be eccentric, but I am Jewish and I consider myself rational. And I think there’s a huge difference between public health measures that are meant to protect people from disease–you know, like having proper sewage disposal systems rather than letting poop contaminate our drinking water and cause cholera outbreaks like what happened in 19th-century London?–and measures that were meant to isolate and stigmatize people of a minority religion, keep them from most professions and taking part in a nation’s political, economic and social circles. These same people were then forbidden to practice their religion, forced into tiny communities and concentration camps, and endured harsh slave labor and systematic murder.

Last I checked, no one is trying to do any of that with people who don’t wear masks or aren’t vaccinated. Governments and businesses just want people to continue following measures taken to keep people from getting sick. You know, like not mixing poop into your drinking water? Victorian Londoners learned that one the hard way!

Anyway, that congresswoman realized she made a mistake, went to the Holocaust Museum in DC, and publicly apologized for her comments. And I want to believe she’s at least learned some kind of lesson from this. But I know that there were plenty of people who backed up her ignorance when she was defending herself, and would have resisted any attempts for her, or for themselves, to find out that why what they said and did was wrong.

I can only chalk some of this response to blatant white supremacy and anti-Semitism. It is part of it, no doubt, but ignorance has played its part as well. Since the Civil War, many history textbooks have been written with the aim of keeping people ignorant of the actual causes of the war, the horrors of slavery, or why things are still very unequal. And while Holocaust education has made great strides since WWII, it’s not emphasized enough if the level of ignorance displayed by our elected leaders is anything to go by.

(Not to mention the number of Holocaust deniers out there.)

Look, I’m white. I may not be treated as such sometimes because of my religion (anti-Semitism is weird that way), but I am white. And I’ve never once felt ashamed of my skin color due to learning of how white people treated black people in the past. Our fifth grade history unit mainly focused on the slave trade, Underground Railroad, and the Civil War, and I feel like it allowed me to feel more empathetic to African Americans. At the same time, I wish I had learned about the 1921 Tulsa race massacre, which was basically an American pogrom, or the coup in Wilmington, North Carolina, which I’m still fuzzy on.

Both events, by the way, I only learned about in the last year! And that doesn’t sit right with me.

From the way I’ve been writing this, you would think that I’m going to conclude that a better handle on history would solve these problems. I wish it were so easy. There has to be a multi-pronged approach to fixing not just the ignorance of the past, but the divisions and pain of the present so they don’t continue into the future. But teaching a history that takes in multiple perspectives, follows more than one or a few groups, and takes a look on how those histories affect our modern day world and culture, would be one of those prongs.

Otherwise, nothing will change. No matter our background, us and our descendants will not receive a history that’ll help us deal with the modern world. We’ll just receive some stories with lies, propaganda and fairytales mixed in. And teaching fiction as truth helps no one.

General Mark Miley testifying before Congress on why critical race theory is taught at West Point.

And we also have to learn why certain circles, mainly composed of white conservatives, have come out so strong against CRT. To quote General Mark Miley, who recently testified before Congress on critical race theory being taught at West Point, “I want to understand white rage–and I’m white.” This pairs very well with what my recently retired boss, who is African-American, gave as the reason why we needed a European American group in our organization, alongside groups for African-American, Latinx, Asian Americans, Native American, LGBT, veterans, and disabled employees,* “We need to have EVERYBODY at the table.”

I completely agree. We need everybody at the table. Because all Americans are at the table. And we need to be better able to understand each other if we want this country to continue on. Otherwise, there’s a good chance that, like a table with rotten legs, it’ll simply collapse.


Thanks for reading this essay, everyone. I know this was a rather unusual sort of post for me to write, but given current events in this country, I felt it was necessary. I look forward to discussion in the comments, but I only ask that you keep things civil. After all, the only things that are supposed to intimidate or scare people on this blog are me and my stories! The comments section are neither.

Until next time, Followers of Fear, thanks for reading, and pleasant nightmares.

*For those who don’t know, my day job is at a supply agency where I work in an office that promotes diversity and inclusion in the workforce. My main duties involve getting accommodations for disabled employees so they can do their jobs, arranging interpreting for deaf employees, and assisting with programs meant to highlight the contributions and accomplishments of the various groups above. It’s a fulfilling job in many different ways.

I’ve kept silent on this matter long enough. Maybe I’ve kept silent so long because, while it made me angry, I wasn’t yet angry enough to post about it on my social media. It was enough for me to let my views be known through the stories I write and the way I conduct myself. However, I think I’ve been silent long enough. I need to speak and to let the world know what I’m thinking.

If you weren’t aware, JK Rowling, author of the Harry Potter novels, has over the past two months voiced problematic views on the transgender community through her social media. I won’t go into a full breakdown of events, you can find that in plenty of articles online, but I will summarize a few major points. Since June, she has: criticized an article that used the phrase “people who menstruate,” meant to include trans men and non-binary individuals; said use of above phrase was “erasing the concept of sex” and “the reality of women globally;” spread misinformation about transgender individuals, including that allowing transgender women to use the bathroom of their choice was giving men license to step into women’s bathrooms and assault them; and on Sunday, equated hormone therapy to gay conversion therapy.

It’s this latest piece of news that has pushed me to speak. I have had the pleasure of being friends and occasionally even colleagues who are trans. None of the above stuff is true of them, or of the trans community at large. Furthermore, as a bisexual man, I am disgusted that Rowling would compare medication that allows trans people to feel more comfortable in their own bodies to a practice that makes members of the LGBT community hate, deny and repress their true selves in favor of someone else’s very narrow worldview on sex and gender.

But I’m not going to talk about all that. I’m going to instead join all the voices who have come out against Rowling’s views. This includes members of the writing community, some of whom I consider colleagues and friends, others I consider role models and teachers; most of the cast of the Harry Potter films; and an overwhelming section of the Harry Potter fandom. What we have to say is this: we are disappointed that Rowling, whose books have always espoused equality and understanding, would support these views, let alone use her platform to influence and possibly turn her fans against the trans community. And while we differ on how we’ll interact with the world of Harry Potter, which is so intertwined with its creator as to be almost inseparable–some are severing their relationship with the franchise, while others are saying they will continue to enjoy Harry Potter while avoiding giving money or other support to Rowling, etc.–we are united and committed to not letting hate go unpunished.*

To be honest, I’m saddened that it has come to this. It’s because of Harry Potter and JK Rowling that I started writing fiction in the first place. You may not have ever heard of me (at least not in the context of a writer) if it hadn’t been for the Wizarding World and what it did for me as a child. I owe Rowling a debt for that, and I’ll always be grateful for the effect she had on my life.

However, I am against all forms of prejudice, including but not limited to racism, antisemitism, sexism, Islamophobia, ableism, ageism, homophobia and, of course, transphobia. I’ve seen the effects of what these prejudices have on people and it disgusts me. My day job allows me to combat these problems within the workforce, something I’m quite proud of. And I won’t stand idly by as an author with a major platform uses theirs to hurt others because of their own prejudice.

And to Ms. Rowling, if you’re reading this, I’m afraid that this is, to quote Albus Dumbledore to Cornelius Fudge, “the parting of the ways.” I will always be grateful to you and to your creation, as I said. But I can’t stand by your views or support your work. Losing me won’t hurt you in the slightest. But if it makes you think, or makes someone else think about how vulnerable the trans community is, or if it helps a trans person feel less alone in a scary world, then it’ll be worth it. With that, Ms. Rowling, I let you go.

Thank you for reading this, everyone. I know this isn’t my normal sort of post, but I had to write it. Thanks for reading. And while I was planning on doing a late-night writing session, I think I’m tuckered out and will hit the hay instead.

Goodnight, Followers of Fear. Until next time, stay safe and pleasant nightmares.

*I know this post may upset some of my Followers of Fear, and they may not want to follow me or read my works anymore. If that’s the case, I’m sad to see you go, but I wish you the best and hope we can someday meet on common ground. And if you decide to get rid of my books, please do so in a manner that doesn’t burn down your house or something crazy like that. I know burning them seems fun, but is it worth your home and life?

Yesterday I came out of Avengers: Endgame, in awe of the movie I’d just seen. I pull out my phone, and see a message from a friend. The same friend, might I add, who informed me of the shooting in Pittsburgh. Six months to the day of the Pittsburgh shooting, in fact. This time, it was a Hasidic synagogue in Poway in California. Thankfully, the casualties were much fewer: several people were injured, but only one person died, and she died saving the rabbi, who despite his injuries allegedly finished his Passover sermon and told his congregants that they were strong and would get through this.

Despite all these stories of strength and heroism, however, the fact that this happened again, on an anniversary of the Pittsburgh shooting, is horrifying. It reopens old wounds and reminds us all, but especially the Jewish people, of how vulnerable we can be.

As many of you know, I am Jewish, and I feel deeply connected to my heritage. And twice, my people and my heritage has been openly attacked in America, a country where people are theoretically supposed to be able to live free of persecution.

Reading about this, it’s tempting to think nothing can change in this country, that hate and gun violence can never change. However, remember what that rabbi was supposed to have said? Well, I found a quote by him, and while I can’t verify if he said it at the end of his sermon, I can verify it’s from what I consider a reliable source. He said,

I guarantee you, we will not be intimidated or deterred by this terror. Terror will not win. As Americans, we can’t cower in the face of senseless hate that is anti-Semitism.

Amen. There is an upsurge of open strains of hatred in the US, from all walks of life and all sides of the political spectrum. Not just anti-Semitism, but racism, misogyny, homophobia, xenophobia, transphobia, and so many more. We can’t let this become the norm anymore than it has. Take a stand against hate and fear. Reach out to the people around you when you see them in trouble, if you’re able to. Fight for popular platforms to ban hatred. Facebook’s taken a stand against white nationalist and other groups, and there’s a campaign on Twitter to get similar groups auto-banned from the platform using the hashtag #JackStopTheHate, which is directed to Jack Dorsey (username @jack), the CEO of Twitter. Speak out if someone is posting or saying hateful things, because if you stand up to them, you’re letting them know their views aren’t tolerated.

Together, we can fight for tolerance and love.

At the same time, fight for initiatives to end gun violence. John Earnest, the shooter in Poway, used an AR-15, a military-grade weapon. What is a military-grade weapon doing in the hands of a 19-year-old civilian?! We can’t keep letting people get their hands on military weaponry so easily. If we do, we’re only ensuring that this cycle of violence continues. Vote for bills or leaders who will fight to keep these weapons from being used in shootings over and over.

Together, we can ensure people don’t have to worry about being shot every time they step outside.

This weekend should’ve only been about positive events: Endgame having a billion-dollar opening; She-Ra season 2 hitting Netflix; the end of Passover and plenty of pizza parties! Not this. Nothing like what happened. And it’s up to us to make sure it never happens again.

Again, I’d like to thank everyone who supports me and thinks about me every time something like this happens. I can’t allow myself to be scared into submission by monsters like this. Just know that your love and kindness bolsters me and keeps me from retreating when I need to speak out on issues like this. Thanks.

Happy Hanukkah and Happy Holidays, one and all.

(For those curious as to what Hanukkah is about, I gave an explanation in the comments)

I’m going to try to keep this post short, though there’s a great temptation to write a thousand words or more. And that’s because despite how crazy this past week has been, its also been kind of uplifting. Why? Because my organization really showed me how much it wanted to make sure all its associates felt included during the holidays. And that included the Jews.

Now as many of you know, I am Jewish (this will be important in a bit). And as many of you also know, I work for a supply organization in a role called an Equal Employment Opportunity Specialist. It’s kind of like HR, but we’re focused on promoting diversity, accommodating associates with disabilities, and combating discrimination and harassment in the workforce. It’s an important job, because a properly diverse and accepting workforce is one with a wide talent pool and a healthy mental state.

Okay, enough background. Let me get to the important part. On Tuesday, I was sitting having breakfast in my office when our Director of Operations (hereafter referred to as the DoO), a member of our regional executive staff, came to visit me. Which is pretty unusual. I see him on occasion around the building and we’ll chat, but I don’t interact much with the executives in my organization. You can imagine my surprise when the DoO came to talk to me, and understand my first thought upon seeing him: I’ve had this nightmare before, but I was naked in it.

Turns out, the DoO wanted to consult me. You see, I did a stand-up routine at a company talent show last year (yes, that happened), and it was centered around kosher cooking. Since then, I’ve gained a reputation as the resident expert on Judaism. With that in mind, the DoO wanted to know if it would be a good idea to have a menorah to represent Hanukkah at the Executive Open House, one of our organization’s annual holiday events when you can go through the executive suite and schmooze with the top brass. That event usually has a lot of tinsel and Christmas trees, but no menorah. And the DoO wanted to know if including one would be a good idea.

I said yes, that would be a wonderful idea, and I gave some other suggestions of things to include (dreidels, chocolate gelt, etc). I then gave him some ideas where he could find all those. Less than an hour later, I was asked to go shopping with him at the nearest place to see if we could find a menorah. I said sure, hoping to God I wouldn’t embarrass myself, and we went shopping. We found plenty of gelt, but they were fresh out of menorahs. One thing you need to know about my organization, though, we don’t do anything partway. So I got into contact with one of the local synagogues, which I knew had a gift shop with plenty of menorahs. After work that day, I went straight there and bought a menorah, along with a ton of dreidels. Mission accomplished.

The DoO and I with the menorah. So grateful for this kind gesture.

Fast forward to today (Thursday, if you’re reading this later on), I brought the menorah and dreidels in. We set it up first in the DoO’s office after he invited me up to the Executive Suite, and then later it ended up in a more public space when another associate brought in their menorah from home. And I have to say, it looked really good there too.

But through all this, I couldn’t help but thinking how wonderful it was for the DoO and the rest of the top brass to be thinking of my people. As many of you are aware, there has been a rise in anti-Semitic incidents and attacks lately, the worst being the Pittsburgh synagogue shooting in October. These attacks on my people have been tough on all of us. I’ve been feeling an upswing in anxiety since October myself. However, I’ve been trying to fight back by staying strong and filling the world with more good and kindness than they can fill it with evil. And this simple thoughtful gesture, while small, was huge in its impact, and I can’t help but thank the DoO for helping to put a bit of good back in this crazy world.

I hope it’s part of a greater trend to make the world a nicer place.

Happy Hanukkah, Followers of Fear. I hope this brought some light into your life during the Festival of Lights. I’m heading off to bed. Until next time (possibly this weekend), pleasant nightmares one and all.