Posts Tagged ‘ideas’

Hey everyone! Did you miss me? I know I’ve been away for a bit, but I have a good excuse. I’ve been hard at work at a new story. And as of a little while, I finished it!

Blood and Paper Skin follows a bunch of young adults who go out one evening looking for some fun. Which swiftly turns for the worse when several of them wake up in a prison-like room, trapped by a middle-aged man who has a sinister purpose for them.

Ooh, I think I felt a chill run up my back!

And let me tell you, this was a fun story to write. For one thing, I got to include a lot of oddities from the real world in this story. For example, a major part of the story was inspired by an article I read about a house with an actual jail in the basement. Why was there a jail in the basement? Because it used to be the local jail, according to some (here’s an article about it if you’re curious). And would I buy it? Of course I would, if I had the money and it was a bit closer to where I live now. The possibilities I could get up to in that home are ENDLESS!

But that’s not the only thing from real life I put into the story. You see, a couple of months ago, I was driving home from my sister’s place after celebrating my birthday there. It was evening, I’m sitting at a stoplight waiting for the light to change, and I see a large white vehicle (I’m not sure what kind) pass through the intersection. And there are people hanging off the sides of the vehicle. Why are they there? Presumably, because there wasn’t room in the car and nobody else had a car.

Anyway, it was such an odd sight, that even as the light changed, I took my eyes off the road to see where that car was going. And it made such an impression on me, I wrote it down to remember so I could use it in a story someday. Which just so happened to be this story, the opening scene depicting a car with people hanging onto the sides because there’s no room in the car (in the story, it’s an older Chevy Tahoe).

Another interesting feature about this story was, despite its length (more on that in a bit), I didn’t write an outline for it. The vast majority of the story was already in my head before I started working on it, so I didn’t feel the need to write an outline. In some ways, it felt more like I was putting movie scenes down on paper for a novelization, with a bit of artistic flourish for the novelization reading crowd (not sure who reads novelizations, but I assume they enjoy a bit of artistic flourish in their books).

A great visual metaphor for the title of this story, wouldn’t you say?

As for the word count, it’s a decent-sized novelette at 14,675 words across fifty pages. Which might make finding the story a home after it’s edited a bit difficult. Still, I think that there’s a place out there for it. And if I can’t find a home for Blood and Paper Skin, then I might put it out as an ebook exclusive. You never know. Just have to keep working hard and trying to get stories out there so people take notice.

For now though, I’m going to see if anyone wants to give it a read and critique it for me before I edit it. Gotta give it a good edit before I think of sending it anywhere.

And as for my next project…well, I’ll save that for a blog post tomorrow.

In the meantime, I’m heading to bed. It’s late, I’ve got a hell of a week to look forward to, and I’m going to need all the rest I can get.

Goodnight, my Followers of Fear. Stay safe, and until next time, pleasant nightmares.

What a mouthful of a title. Let me explain:

Back in college (I want to say 2012), when featured blog posts were advertised to WordPress users under the feature “Freshly Pressed,” I read a blog post from a father who recently had a run-in with someone else’s spawn. I can’t remember much about the blog post in question. I can’t remember the blog or blog post’s name, the blog’s general theme, or anything of that sort. However, one detail stands out in my memory and it’s why I’m writing this blog post:

After reprimanding another person’s child for selfish (and maybe violent? I can’t remember that well) behavior at a children’s playground, the child’s mother came to apologize. And the parent described the mother’s face as “crunchy.” You read that right, crunchy. For someone’s face.

I tried pressing the author in the comments about what he meant by “crunchy.” What makes a woman’s face crunchy? But no matter how much I tried or he tried, he couldn’t describe it better than “crunchy.” I’m guessing he doesn’t spend a lot of time trying to understand the meanings of adjectives in order to mix and match them in stories and not use the same word over and over again. That’s more of a creative writer thing, not a parent blogging about their experiences kind of thing.

Anyway, I put the issue aside, but every now and then, I would come back to it and wonder how you could describe someone’s face as “crunchy.” About two weeks ago, I decided to finally search for answers and decided to discuss it with my various writers’ groups online. And I got some feedback that proved quite helpful.

Among my writer friends and colleagues, there were three main responses:

  • The author really meant “scrunchy,” not “crunchy.” This would make more sense, as it’s easier to visualize someone’s face scrunch up.
  • He meant she was a crunchy-type person, as in a sort of neo-hippie that eats granola and lots of other natural foods that are crunchy when eaten (hence the nickname).
  • The person’s face was so covered in lines, that you could almost hear those lines crunching whenever their face moved.

Honestly, given that I mainly asked horror authors for their feedback, I’m surprised that only one person made a wisecrack about cannibalism, and the woman’s face looking like a crunchy snack. Like a Cheetos snack or a Crunch bar.

And now I’m hungry. Dammit.

What people tend to think of when they hear the word “crunchy.” Not in regards to people’s faces.

Anyway, of the responses listed above, it was a variation of the last one that rang right to me. One author commented that she’d seen people whose skin texture was like cornflakes due to too much exposure to the sun and applying too much beige make-up to “make up” for it. Given my vague memories of the original blog post and the context the author used for the woman he was conversing with, this felt right. In fact, it lines up with the image I conjure in my head when I think of the woman from this blog post.

So, that’s the description I’m going with. In fact, I’ve already figured out how I could work it into a story someday, as well as which story I’d like to use it in. And perhaps which foolish person who got on my bad side and received the ultimate punishment of getting a hateful character based on them to use the description on.*

But damn, it was a crazy trip just to get to the right description. At least I finally found a description that works for me and I can work into a story someday. And I got to write a blog post that hopefully was edifying and enjoyable. Not a bad way to spend a Sunday morning, right?

That’s all for now, my Followers of Fear. I hope this post was amusing. So, until next time, what are some other weird or mystifying descriptors you’ve come across in your reading? Any that you’ve struggled to find an answer for? Let’s discuss.

And until next time, stay safe, pleasant nightmares, and no eating people’s faces off. It’s generally frowned upon in Western society.

*Don’t mess with me. My retribution is not only dangerous and eternal, but safe from lawsuits owing to that little clause in the copyright section stating it’s a work of fiction and that any connections to real persons, places or events are just coincidences.

The other day, I was scrolling through my Twitter feed and I saw a tweet from a fellow writer in the writing community (or #WritingCommunity). This was the tweet.

Now, if the tweet hasn’t loaded properly into this blog post at the time you’re reading this, it’s from writer Rey Roland using the hashtag @rrowlandwrites and goes like this:

#WritingCommunity do you think that characters have to make mistakes in a story?

I found the question stimulating, so after some back and forth between us, I decided to do a full post on the question (hope you don’t mind, Rey).

So, can and should characters make mistakes? First, let me start with can: yes, characters can make mistakes. In fact, there are plenty of stories where characters make mistakes which become integral to the plot. And yes, characters should on occasion make mistakes, though it depends heavily on the story. A character shouldn’t make a mistake just for the sake of making one when it serves no purpose to the story. Otherwise, the readers will think it’s weird.

Of course, this leads to an even bigger question: is there a benefit to having characters make mistakes? Actually, there are multiple benefits to having a character who makes mistakes.

For one thing, characters who make mistakes are easier to empathize with. Not to say characters incapable of making mistakes can’t be empathized with, but it does make a character more human and easier to identify with for the audience. The possibility of a reader continuing with a story can depend greatly on their connection to the protagonist, so showing them as being like the reader–more human–can be an advantage.

Edmund Pevensie’s mistake was a major driver of the story.

Another reason to have characters make mistakes is that it can help the story along or add to its complexity. Sometimes, it’s even the catalyst of the story. In The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe, Edmund makes the mistake of falling under the White Witch’s spell, and betraying his siblings adding both an extra dilemma to an already difficult situation and giving the character a redemption arc during the story. And in the manga Death Note, Light Yagami tries to eliminate suspicion of himself as the murderer Kira by killing the FBI agent following him, as well as the other FBI agents following other suspects. However, this eventually just leads to him becoming a prime suspect again, a problem which lasts the rest of the series.

Of course, it isn’t just protagonists who make major mistakes. Minor characters make mistakes all the time, and they often benefit the plot significantly. In Ania Ahlborn’s novel The Devil Crept In, the protagonist’s mother makes the mistake of not treating her son’s obvious mental issues, which has major consequences before, during and after the story. And in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Cho Chang’s best friend Marietta Edgecombe tells Umbridge about Dumbledore’s Army, leading to the organization’s dissolution, Dumbledore’s exile and Umbridge’s assent at Hogwarts, and boils to appear on her face in the shape of the word “SNEAK.”

And villains make mistakes all the time. Often, that’s how their downfall begins. Often, these mistakes are due to the villains’ pride, ignorance, or some other character flaw. Voldemort doesn’t believe anyone will find his Horcruxes; Bane talks too much and doesn’t watch his six; Annie Wilkes is so obsessed with her Misery Chastain novels, she falls for Paul Sheldon’s trick; the White Witch doesn’t read the instructions carefully and misses the deeper magic in the Stone Table; Kaecilius also doesn’t read the instructions and misses what actually happens when you join Dormammu’s dimension; and the Wicked Witch allows water in her castle for some reason, even though she has a serious water allergy (I guess the book version thought Dorothy would never think to use water against her?).

As you can see from the above, not only can and should characters be able to make mistakes, but there are numerous benefits to doing so. Whether to include one or not depends on the author, character(s), and story in question. However, if an opportunity comes up and you think it’ll ultimately benefit the plot, I say do it. Who knows? It could be a major turning point in the story, and the moment readers talk about for years to come.

I hope you found this post edifying, my Followers of Fear. I had fun writing it. And I hope Rey Rowland (whose Twitter page you can find here) enjoys reading this. Thanks for the mental stimulation.

That’s all for now. I’ll check in with you all very soon, I’m sure. So, until next time, stay safe, pleasant nightmares, and DON’T TAKE THAT ACTION! IT’S THE KIND OF MISTAKE THAT’LL LAND YOU IN A HORROR STORY! AND NOT ONE WRITTEN BY ME.

Reborn City, Book 1 of the Reborn City series.

As many of you know, I started this blog while working on a sci-fi series, the Reborn City trilogy. It follows street gangs in a dystopian future, and focuses mainly on the Hydras, a gang whose leaders have strange powers and abilities. At the very core of the series was a theme of overcoming various prejudices, especially racial and Islamaphobic. I self-published the first two books, Reborn City and Video Rage, and started work on the final book, Full Circle.

However, trouble started around the third book. Midway through the first draft, I realized the direction of the story wasn’t epic enough for what I wanted for the series. It neither provided the action, nor the catharsis needed to end the series. So I stopped working on the story, with the hope that eventually I could finish the series.

That was 2017. It’s 2020. And I’ve realized some things about the series. Things that made me change how I feel about those books, and about selling them to people. The biggest thing being that I’m a different person than I used to be. I’m not the same person I was when I first started writing those books.

Let me explain. When I first started that series, it was 2009, I was sixteen, and I was full of the naive, optimistic hope that most teens are filled with. That hope filled Reborn City and its themes of the power of tolerance, which I hoped would do some good in the world. I thought if I could take those themes and work them into a story, I could beat back some of the horrors that were plaguing the world.

In a way, I still think it’s possible to write a story and make a difference through literature. We’ve seen it with multiple books that have withstood the test of time and build conversations around difficult topics. I just don’t think the Reborn City books can do that anymore.

It’s now 2020. Eleven years have passed, I’m twenty seven, and I’m a lot more educated, as well as a lot more jaded, about the very issues I was writing about. I think we all are. We’ve seen too much these past several years, felt too much heartbreak and harsh realities. Knowing that, I look back at the Reborn City books and realize that those stories don’t fit their purpose anymore. It’s like you try to build a better hose to put out house fires, but you find out after the fact that what’s needed is a fire hose, and you built a garden hose. And the whole house is on fire.

See where I’m going? I can’t finish the books because I know the hose I’m building is inadequate, and I don’t feel right selling the books for the same reason.

This, among other reasons, is why earlier this week, I made the decision to take both Reborn City and Video Rage off Amazon and Smashwords.

Reborn City and Video Rage. As of today, I’m not selling copies on Amazon or Smashwords.

Yeah, I can hear some of your shock. Believe me, I’m not happy about it, either. But it is what it is. I won’t sell a product (and make no mistake, that’s part of what I’m doing as a writer) that doesn’t work, and these stories just don’t work. You can maybe still find the last few paperback copies of them on Amazon, but after those are gone, that’s it.

That being said, there are a couple of bright sides. For one thing, I may revisit the world of Reborn City again someday. I still think there’s some potential with those characters and that world, I just need to write a story around them that works with what I know now. And in the meantime, I still like to put the issues I care about into the stories I write, like I did with Rose, or with River of Wrath. The latter of which, by the way, tackles some of the same issues Reborn City and Video Rage did.

Also, while those books are no longer available, my two other books that I self-published, the short story collection The Quiet Game: Five Tales to Chill Your Bones, and the horror-thriller Snake, are both still available. While those stories aren’t perfect, they’ve weathered the test of time better than the Reborn City books did, so I feel more comfortable putting them out there. I’ll include the links for them below.

I’m sorry to drop sad news on you on a Friday night, my Followers of Fear. But I thank you for reading, and for your understanding. Do know that I plan to keep putting out quality stories in the future, and I hope you’ll stick around to keep supporting me while I work on that.

That’s all for now, and I’ll be back soon. Until next time, stay safe and pleasant nightmares.

 

The Quiet Game: AmazonCreatespaceBarnes & NobleiBooksSmashwords, and Kobo.

Snake: AmazonCreatespace, Barnes & Noble, iBooksSmashwords, and Kobo

Rose:  Amazon US, Amazon UK, Amazon Canada, Audible

Folly Beach, the beach Ramsey and I visited, and which is the setting and inspiration for this latest story.

Two stories finished four days apart. Not sure if I’ve ever done that before.

So remember when I mentioned my buddy Ramsey and I visited a beach called Folly Beach in my Impressions of South Carolina post? Well, Ramsey is just barely able to tolerate horror. I know, odd considering he’s one of my best friends ever, but it’s true. Anyway, I decided to take advantage of this and mess with him before it was time to leave by making him think, even if just for a second, that something out of a horror situation was happening to us on that beach at that very moment. And you know what? He bought it, if only for a moment.

Obviously, it was funny, but it was also the basis for this story, Folly Beach. I basically  imagined what might happen if that situation I got Ramsey to believe in really happened, changed some names and added some events to make things more interesting. The result is Folly Beach, a new short story just under thirty-eight hundred words.

Yeah, that is pretty short for me, I know. Still, I didn’t think it would be long to begin with, and happy with the results.

So, what’s next with this story? Well, I’ve already sent it to Ramsey to read and laugh (or scream) over. And I’m looking for beta readers to take a look at it and give me some feedback. My hope is to have a second draft done by the end of September/early October, in time for a particular publication’s submission window to open. I don’t think I’ll get in, given that it’s a hard publication to get into, but when I have something that fits its word count limit and I think would be a good fit, I have to try.

And in the meantime, I’ve already figured out what I’m going to write next (though I’ll probably wait a couple of days before I start on it). Yeah, no matter what, I keep busy.

Well, that’s all for now, my Followers of Fear. I’m sure I’ll have more to say in the coming days. Maybe even as soon as tomorrow (though if I do publish a post tomorrow, I’ll be going to bed soon after! I can’t do these late nights as much as I used to).

Until next time, stay safe and pleasant nightmares!

Ad for Black Peter Robinson’s Mourning Warehouse, and the image that inspired this story.

Wow, what a mouthful of a title. And what a story! I have a good feeling about this one.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s start with the point of this post: just a few minutes ago, I finished a new novelette. Titled “The Ghost of the Mourning Museum,” the story follows a man on vacation in the UK who visits the Museum of British Mourning.* While there, he encounters a little girl who says she’s the daughter of a mourning warehouse owner who died in the 19th century. As it turns out, the museum is haunted by that girl’s ghost, and seeing her is said to herald your death.

So yeah, if you read my post on the cult of Victorian mourning rituals, you can see how that might fit into this story. In fact, quite a few of my interests made their way into this story. Tarot, for instance; I was struggling at a certain point in the outlining stage of what should happen to my protagonist, so I just gave him a Tarot reading. I then pulled out my own deck, and used that to perform the reading for my character. What the cards gave me ended up propelling the story forward in just the right way.

And because I’d been to Britain on a study abroad trip years ago, I got to include a little bit of my experience in the story. Not much, but a little.

So, what’s next for this story? Well, at 10,535 words, publications are going to be very selective with what they’re willing to accept. That being said, I think this story has potential, so I’m going to find a few beta readers to give me feedback. Once I have that feedback, I’ll use it to spruce up this story. And then, once that’s done…who knows? At the very least, I’d like to get it out there and see if anyone else enjoys the story.

For now though, I’m drinking some beer and retiring for the night. Goodnight, my Followers of Fear. I’m sure we’ll catch up at some point this weekend. But until then, stay safe, pleasant nightmares, and…holy crap! WordPress informs me I’m past a hundred thousand views on this blog! Everyone, thank you so much for continuing to read this blog and support my writing career. You can’t imagine what it means to me. I hope you’ll continue to support me as I work on getting more stories out there and reaching my full potential as a writer.

Until then, pleasant nightmares!

I know I said that already. I don’t care.

*For the record, there isn’t a real Museum of British Mourning. I just made it up for the sake of this story. However, if one does come into existence in the future, I hope the museum will give credit where credit is due and make me part of the museum’s operations in some way.

Queen Victoria and her grandchildren by her daughter Princess Alice, mourning their mother and sister Princess Marie.

Yes, this is another Victorian England post. Don’t worry, it’s going to be relevant to horror and to the stories I write, believe me.

During my research into the era, I found that the Victorians really had a thing for mourning. In fact, they made ritualized mourning into something of a fine art or a pseudo-religious practice (hence why I call it a cult). You know how during a funeral, it’s tradition to wear black? Victorians took that to extremes: when someone you know died, you were required to mix black into your clothing, how much depending on your level of closeness to the deceased. A widow would have to wear full black clothes, usually made from crepe fabric; a child would wear black with white cuffs and frills; and servants would wear black bands around their arms (maids could also wear one around their caps or bonnets, or fully black caps and bonnets).

Also depending on the closeness to the deceased would determine the length of the initial mourning period. Yeah, you read that right: initial mourning period. For the Victorians, there were stages of mourning, particularly for close relatives. For widows, for example, the initial mourning stage could last up to two years, during which time they could only wear black clothes and black jewelry; black clothes was hung on mirrors and windows; and they were to refuse all socializing. Any letters they sent out had black borders, and it was encouraged for them to forget the outside world to focus on the deaths of their husband.

Of course, this was slanted very much towards women: men were allowed to wear only a black armband and go out because they were typically breadwinners. They could also remarry or enter the social scene sooner, because men were expected to have wives to take care of them and a mother for any children.

Furthermore, only women from the middle or upper classes took part in the full mourning ritual. Women from the lower classes, while still wearing black, would have to go out to earn a living. If one could be earned, of course; I’m not entirely sure, but I think I read that women could have difficulty finding work during mourning, if they previously weren’t working. In fact, many women and families went into debt or became homeless by observing mourning rituals.

Why did they do all this? Part of the reason may have been Queen Victoria herself: when her husband Albert, Prince Consort, died, she went into lifelong mourning for him, wearing black for the rest of her life and refusing to remarry. For a time, she even retreated from her royal duties. This inspired the cult of mourning and its associated rituals.

Part of it may have also been (and this is just my hypothesis, but I could be onto something) the resurrection men, grave robbers who stole bodies and sold them to medical schools for anatomy lessons. Back then, there was a huge demand for bodies at medical schools, but never enough supply, so resurrection men would step in to meet the demand (as well as be paid handsomely for it).* And because not everyone could afford safeguards to keep their coffins from being raided and stealing a body technically wasn’t a crime yet, all resurrection men had to worry about was getting caught by an angry mob.

Ad for Black Peter Robinson’s Mourning Warehouse, and the image that inspired my current story.

Regardless of what caused it, the cult of mourning existed, and everyone was expected to obey, especially married women. To fail or to opt out was to be accused of never having truly loved or been family with the deceased, or to be cold and cruel.

And where there is devotion, there is money to make off it: while poorer families would dye their clothes black or got them secondhand, those who could bought them from specialized “mourning warehouses,” department stores that sold mourning wear, as well as coffins and items associated with mourning. Some even rented out hearses and horses for their clients! Some of the biggest were the London General Mourning Warehouse, or Jay’s, and the Black Peter Robinson Mourning Warehouse.

But wait, there’s more! Post-mortem photography was also popular during this period. Photography was a lengthy and expensive process, so many families would only get photographs of their loved ones when they’d just passed. They would then be posed and prepared to look like they were sleeping, often next to living family members. Rather than morbid, this was seen as a good way to remember the dead and help with grief.

A post-mortem photograph. Because of course I would include one.

Of course, a lot of this fell out of fashion in the early twentieth century, first among the upper classes and then trickling down to the lower. Cheaper funeral practices became preferred, and post-mortem photography became unnecessary as getting a photograph became easier and more affordable. Today, only characters in books and neo-Victorians still practice any of these (yes, that’s a thing, but for another post).

And yes, resurrection men are largely a thing of the past.

Why do I bring this up? Well, besides being interesting, the story I’m writing now focuses on Victorian mourning to an extent, and doing some further research into Victorian mourning practices made me want to blog about them. So thank you for coming to my TED talk (I love making that joke).

 

That’s all for now, my Followers of Fear. I’m sure I’ll be back soon with more to rant or gush about. In the meantime, thanks for enabling my love of the Victorian era. And until next time, stay safe and pleasant nightmares!

*H.H. Holmes, one of America’s first recorded serial killers, did this with his victims, which leads me to think he was more interested in making easy money than in killing.

About two years ago, I binge-watched the entire first season of an anthology series called Channel Zero, this one focused on adapting popular creepypastas. The first season, Candle Cove, was terrifying enough to earn a 5 out of 5 review from me (which you can read here).

And then it took me two years to actually get around to watching season two, No End House. But over the past week, I watched it. How did it stack up? Let’s find out.

Based on the story No End House by Brian Russell, this season follows Margot, a young woman still mourning the sudden passing of her father the year before. One weekend, when her friends are home from college, they invite her out to a traveling haunted attraction called No End House, a house so terrifying that it’s said to change lives! They go to check it out, and find out that the house is more than a haunted attraction: it’s another world and a living organism unto itself. And they are its meal.

Like the first season, No End House uses a slow-burn approach to tell its story. Combined with a surrealism rooted in normal suburbia, it makes for a compelling watch that’s hard to look away. The characters are mostly nice enough to root for. My favorite was probably Seth Marlowe, played by Jeff Ward of Agents of SHIELD fame (Deke Squad forever!), who constantly surprised me with the reveals of his character. And John Carroll Lynch, who has played Twisty the Clown and Mr. Jingles in various seasons of American Horror Story, plays his character with plenty of love and pathos.

And there’s quite a bit of horror played around memory, the loss of or perversion of it. It’s a little chilling when you think of how memory is almost a physical, tangible thing used against the characters in this season.

That being said, the season does have its issues. The emphasis on emotional and character-driven storytelling is emphasized at the expense of the horror. There were no moments where I felt like crapping my pants or curling into a ball out of fright. Furthermore, there’s a missed opportunity to lean into the horror of the surrealism, just keeping it weird rather than creepy. All this is at the expense of the horror. Whereas the first season had this constant dread of the strange and unexplained, of the mystery at the center of it and how it affected the characters and the world, there was none of it in this season.

ON the whole, I’m giving Channel Zero: No End House a 3.4 on a scale of 1 to 5. It has some great characters and ideas, as well as some freaky scenes, but it misses numerous opportunities to scare the pants off us. If you’re looking for more story and character driven horror, this might be for you, but it won’t give you the buzz a real scary show will.

Despite how the second season compares to the first, I’ll probably still check out season three at some point. Likely within two years, though.

That’s all for now, my Followers of Fear. I’ve got a busy weekend ahead of me, but I’ll try to check in with something by Monday evening at the latest.

Until next time, stay safe, pleasant nightmares, and if you go to a haunted attraction but you can’t find anyone running the place, signing waivers, or paying/taking money…maybe reconsider stepping inside.

My friend and fellow blogger whose tastes are way different than mine, Kat Impossible, tagged anyone who was interested in doing this tag. It sounded fun and informative, so I thought I would give it a try. It took me a while to get around to writing my own version and answering the questions–Kat’s post came out right after I got back from my trip, and I had a few posts to write before this one–but it’s finally out.

All credit goes to The Long Voyage for the original version of this tag. You can read it here.

NEVER HAVE I EVER…

…started a novel that I did not finish.

Before age 12 or 13? All the time. I wrote maybe five or six novels (which probably had word counts of short stories or novelettes at most) that didn’t get finished. There was a pirate story, a Frankenstein story, a caveman story, and a few zombie stories. Finally started getting some vampire stories to completion in middle school. I think it was a problem of focus and interest, rather than the story themselves. Then again, I was so young. Youngsters aren’t very good at staying focused on goals without seeing immediate gains from all their hard work.

More recently, I have some short stories and novelettes that I started in the past two years and stopped working on after awhile. Still figuring out why, but I think they may have leaned a little too far from horror and into dark fantasy to keep my interest. It’s sad, but what are you going to do?

…written a story completely by hand.

I did once! And it wasn’t one of those cute, two or three-page school assignments, either. One of my teenage attempts at novel-writing, a vampire novel called Mahiro, was written entirely by hand for its first draft. I had, like, seven notebooks filled with vampire fighting. And subconscious exploration of my sexuality through homage to Anne Rice and the movie Van Helsing, but that only occurred to me after I realized my sexuality.

…changed tenses in the middle of a story.

I think the first couple of attempts at Rose were in the past tense. But on advice from my thesis advisor, I changed to present tense. It worked out in the end.

…not researched anything before starting a story.

Most of my earliest stories started out that way. It wasn’t until maybe high school that I started to do research, and I only got good at it around college, when research became important for passing classes and getting my degree.

…changed a protagonist’s name halfway through a draft.

I don’t think I have, actually. Maybe the surname of a minor character, but never a protagonist’s name, personal or surname.

…written a story in less than a month.

Several times. Especially this past year or so.

…fallen asleep while writing.

Never. When I get tired, I’ll just go to bed.

…corrected someone’s grammar in real life or online.

Too many times to count. It’s a bad habit of mine.

…yelled in all caps at myself in the middle of a novel.

Um…I don’t think so. Is that something people do?

…used “I’m writing” as an excuse.

I think so. I didn’t want to go somewhere with my dad and sisters, even though a friend of mine would’ve been there to play. I just had to write that day. I hope the friend didn’t take it personally!

…killed a character based on someone I know in real life.

More than once. In fact, it’s something I warn people I’ll do if they get on my bad side. In fact, there are two people on there now. I just have to find the right stories to place them in…

Don’t ever mess with me.

…used pop culture references in a story.

Oh, all the time! Game of Thrones was mentioned once or twice in Rose, the 1960s Batman TV show gets a mention in River of Wrath, and I include so many references to some of my favorite anime in Toyland. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.

…written between 1 AM and 6 AM.

Plenty of times. I’m actually thinking of changing my sleep schedule so I could do it more often (like Franz Kafka did), but I worry about the effects on my health should I need to get back on a normal schedule.

…drank an entire pot of coffee while writing.

I hate coffee, so that’s a no. I’ll usually have tea or, if it’s a weekend, beer or wine.

German wheat beers are my favorite kind of beer.

…written down dreams to use in potential plots.

Yes. One early story from college, Daisy, was inspired by a dream. And I think a couple more have been, but I can’t think of any off the top of my head.

…published an unedited story online/Wattpad/blog.

Oh hell no! I know the importance of editing. It can literally save a story from being thrown into the trash.

…procrastinated on homework because I wanted to write.

I don’t think so. I’m pretty good about getting that stuff done so I have time to write later. Besides, that stuff can creep up on you if you’re not careful.

…typed so long my wrists hurt.

Only if I’m wearing my watch. Which is why I normally type with it off.

…spilled a drink on my laptop while writing.

Not while writing, but once. I aim to never let it happen again.

…forgot to save my work/draft.

Never! How dare you insinuate I have!

…laughed like an evil villain while writing a scene.

Um, yeah! All the time! And sometimes when I’m not writing. It’s me, come on!

…cried while writing a scene.

Not my thing.

…created maps of my fictional worlds.

No, because more often than not, my stories take place in this world. All I need is a Google search and I’m good.

FOLLOWERS OF FEAR, I TAG YOU!!!

If you want to try this, go right ahead. Just make sure to link back to me and to The Long Voyage. And, as always, have fun with it!

That’s all for now, my Followers of Fear. I hope you’re having a good weekend so far. If I got at least twelve hours of sleep, I know I did. If you need me, I’ll be doing what I do best on weekends…whatever that is. Until next time, stay safe and pleasant nightmares!

My latest Tarot reading. What it indicates…only I can tell.

About five years ago, I bought a Tarot deck and a how-to guide on how to use the cards. And after a few readings, I used it infrequently, maybe once a year. Until recently, that is. A book I read and really enjoyed featured Tarot quite heavily, as well as a few friends and acquaintances who read the cards (including one who mentions it on her blog quite regularly), spurred me to try reading the cards again. Which became something of a regular habit. And then I hit upon the idea of doing readings at the Indie Author Book Expo in Iowa last month. I bought a second deck (never use a deck for yourself and for others. It mixes energy in all the wrong ways).

And I’ve come to an opinion on Tarot. One I would like to share with you.

But before that, let me tell you about Tarot if you’re unfamiliar. Tarot cards are like playing cards, but instead of hearts, diamonds, spades and clubs as the four suits, there are wands, swords, cups and pentacles (sometimes called disks). In addition, there are twenty-two trump cards called the Major Arcana, for a total of seventy-eight cards. Originally used as playing cards, the cards started being used in cartomancy, or fortune telling through cards, in the 18th century, with each card having a different meaning, often several meanings, and affecting the reading.

So yeah, I’m breaking the Torah’s prohibition on fortune-telling. But I already break the prohibition of consulting spirits at least twice a year, and God hasn’t struck me down since, so I think I’m fine.

In any case, Tarot isn’t supposed to tell the future. Many users will attest that Tarot is supposed to be used more for insight and guidance, like asking for advice. Perhaps it’ll tell you what could happen in the future, but like the future, that could change from day to day. That’s what I say, anyway.

Now that we’ve gotten all that out of the way, what are my thoughts on Tarot? Well, before this week, I would’ve maintained that I’m undecided, and that perhaps the cards do have something to them, but it could all just be coincidence and humans looking for patterns where there are none.

But on Sunday, I had a reading that proved scarily accurate. So far, it’s been very on the nose about events that have occurred this week, to the point I shouted a very naughty word to my otherwise-empty apartment. Now, I’m not sure. Perhaps there is something there, like with the haunted locations I visit. To say the least, it’s weird.

Whether or not there’s anything to Tarot, I can’t lie that it has an effect. At the Expo last month, I did a reading for a young woman asking something near and dear to her heart of the cards. The reading the cards gave her seemed to lift her spirits and give her hope, and she seemed very interested in buying a deck of her own. I hope things work out for her, and I’m glad I was able to put some joy in her day.

So, I’ll keep reading the cards. I’ll use my Gilded Tarot deck (a reading of which is pictured above) for myself, and the Ghost Tarot deck (pictured to the right) for others. Besides being something I could do at conventions and expos, it’s fun and does give insight. Never a bad thing.

Do you have any experience with Tarot? What are your thoughts on it?