Archive for Short Story

Working Class Heroes, Their Boomsticks and Their Dreams

Posted in The Flow and Rhythm of Life, The Writing Process (How do I Come up These Beats?) with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on 05/12/2013 by Angel D. Vargas

What happens when you try to fly solo?

I start my blog entries like that these days.  The above question looks very straight forward. I want to know what happens to the person who decides that they’re going to make a go of life on their own. I want to understand how an individual functions when they try to pull themselves out of mediocrity and live their dreams.

We live in a curious time in American History. Western culture demands that the average individual seeks guidance as a youth. A person is supposed to depend upon their parents for warmth, shelter, wisdom and love. Moms and dads nurture their children by providing the basics as well as opportunities for their education.

But children grow up. Expectations change. Life becomes high school (or is it the other way around?) Children are taught to believe that they are supposed to broaden their minds with books and technology. Yet they are also supposed to round out their learning experiences with intense athletic pursuits or “extra curricular activities.”  Meanwhile, if adolescents succumb to the bombardment of commercials, internet ads, or peer-pressure situations in which they find themselves, they learn that silence is no longer golden. To survive, one has to be a social butterfly, not just in real life, but on the internet. Social Media websites commit younger and younger people to creating a secondary persona that either modulates or inhibits their popularity in school or in other social situations.

A self-reflecting adult might scratch their head at the contradictory messages they received  about life. I was raised as a child of the eighties. Adults of our generation were taught that education was the key to financial success. I used a have an enormous, light-up  picture on my wall with three fancy sports cars in a three car garage by the beach. The motto that was emblazoned at the top of the picture screamed “Justification for a Higher Education.”  Enough Said.

Except not everyone who gets a higher education automatically get those sorts of things. Even going to a top tier college in the country guarantees nothing if you don’t get to know the right people and you don’t focus on the things you love. Anybody who tells you that time is money hasn’t had to look for a job for the last five years in this country.

“The economy is in the crapper.” Those were the words of someone who interviewed me for a sales position years ago. They still pretty much hold true.

Somehow despite all the contradictory forces screaming for our attention, we’re supposed live our dreams. We’re told that we’re better off pulling ourselves out of mediocrity by our bootstraps. We’re also reminded by oversimplified hallmark moments on television shows and food advertisements that we somehow can’t do it alone.

We have to do it by ourselves, but we can’t do it alone.

That includes living our dreams, doesn’t it?

I’ve been sick for the last week and a half. This is the cold that never ends.

Major illness tends to sharpen one’s focus when they begin to recover from it. I, for one, will make it through a major cold like this one and begin to take stock of how well I’m doing living my dreams and meeting my personal goals. Since my largest one by far is writing, I have to remind myself that I can and will write every day.

But like the rest of this story, I’ve come to learn that I can’t really make my dream a reality all on my own. While I try to get my name out there by submitting more and more of my work to various publishers for consideration, I’m getting to the point where I spend a lot of my time with my nose to the grindstone. I push so hard to get more and more writing done, it feels like I’m only picking my head up to notice that everyone else walked off to some social gathering. I’m perfecting the swing of my samurai sword, and everyone else walked to the river to drink beer and sake.

From a professional standpoint, my current solo method seems like a piss poor way to garner real opportunity. From a personal standpoint, I feel more and more like a lone warrior. What happens to warriors who stay alone for too long?

They go nuts and start saying things like “This is my BOOMSTICK!”

Now that I more or less know where I am from a professional and a social standpoint, the question I have to ask myself is “What now?” It’s one thing to understand how much one misses social connection when they’ve been ill for more than a week. It’s quite another thing to realize that this uniquely Western notion of “independence” is not quite all that it’s cracked up to be.

Nobody ever really meets their goals without help, even on a minute level. I’d love to sit here and tell you that I got my first short story published because I woke up one day and inspiration struck me like a bolt of lightning. But that isn’t even close to the truth. I got that story accepted by a publication only after my first attempt with them flopped. I never even asked the editors why I was rejected. I got really annoyed and decided to up the ante. I thought I was a warrior recovering from wounded pride.

But this isn’t about revenge, proper action or silt. I would not have even bothered to finish the story had it not been for my friends, writers or otherwise, who were there to encourage me from day one. My friends are still around, though it’s been a while since I’ve been willing or able to talk with them.

It’s also been a while since I’ve felt like I was a part of a real writing community. I don’t know if I need that feeling again so that my writing can reach the next level, or if I want to be a part of a community so that my social skills don’t fade while I write my next manuscript.

At any rate, here I am world. I’m not quite recovered my from my eternal snot fest. And yes, I know that that description of my illness will make everyone want to stay around me. I’m going to start small and post this blog entry. I’m reentering my former social media sites. I’ll keep on writing, of course. Maybe I just won’t use all of my words to add to the chapters of unseen stories and manuscripts.

Too Sick to Write or Too Sick Not To?

Posted in The Writing Process (How do I Come up These Beats?) with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on 05/07/2013 by Angel D. Vargas

A funny thing happened to me in bed two nights ago.

And this is the point where you roll your eyes and ask, “Are you serious?”

Considering that I am now recovering from a cold, I couldn’t be more serious if I tried. Post nasal drip has a way of embarrassing a young writer even in front of the characters in his or her head.

The best part is I then get to put the “Snotgate” incident in one of my other short stories for fun. Quick, what are some original descriptors for “a big ole strand o’ snot?” 😉

The best part I can say about being sick (other than the fact that I am being taken care of at the moment by a very sweet and sexy girlfriend) is that I come up with arguably some of my most insane or brilliant writing ideas when my brain is being turned into “Grey-Matter Stew.”

Why is this the case? I have no idea. It can be argued that some of the most brilliant creative minds in the history of art were some of the most wounded or “ill.” Van Gogh wanted to give his girlfriend a new earring for Christmas once, right? The only problem was the earring was his actual ear. Other than that, kudos to him for his insane passion and devotion – the SAME madness, one could argue, he applied with frantic candor to his famous works of art. Who could look at “Starry Night” and NOT know that this man, brilliant as he was, had some issues? Do you think Munch painted “The Scream” because he was a “happy-go-lucky chap?”

Could “mind altering conditions” of insane variety be responsible for other creative masterpieces? Of course they could! Nobody can argue that Earnest Hemmingway and Virginia Wolf weren’t perhaps some of the most mentally unstable people of the 20th century. There isn’t anyone who would say that Walt Whitman was the most “well-adjusted” fellow, even though some of his poetry is considered worthy enough to be included in classical education curriculum.

And I don’t know what to tell you all about musical names like “Nirvana, Jimi Hendrix,  Radiohead, Prodigy, and Lords of Acid.”

And if you think cinema is getting out of this blog piece unscathed, I got two words for you. Star Wars.

Enough said.

So what am I, an aspiring writer with a penchant for horror and action adventure stories going to contribute with my own illness-inspired insanity?  I won’t really know until enough people read my writing and take a shining to it. (“Heeeeere’s Johnny!”) What I can tell you is that at roughly two in the morning, my fever-melted brain decided to cogitate on the way that the plot of my “ancient Chinese action/adventure-horror” manuscript was evolving. Maybe it was time for me to play “chapter and paragraph” Jenga in order to make sure that two story arcs were unfolding in an interesting and creative enough way so that when the final chapter of the first half of my book was written, everything could come together in one exciting “KABOOM” moment.

And what the hell, you might ask, would constitute a “KABOOM” moment for a bunch of action heroes, mythical monsters,  and their supporting characters in Ancient freakin’ China? Don’t bother asking Marvin the Martian. He isn’t writing this book.

I don’t want to give anything away. But I will say that I can write a hell of a sword fight scene now that I’ve read a book on Chinese sword fighting techniques AND I’ve had a couple of beers.

Does that mean I encourage the ingesting of mind-altering substances whenever authors decide to sit down and commit their fingers to keyboard? No. Frankly, I think that ultimately sets a dangerous, self-limiting precedent, and it doesn’t give you anything interesting to say in those “twelve-step” meetings.  But I don’t discount the possibility that every once in a while, an artist’s body has to be pushed to some rather uncomfortable limits in order for their mind to shut down what’s not important. Once that happens, an artist can focus on the creative essence of their work, and they may come up with some interesting scenarios, ideas or techniques that they never would have pondered if their minds weren’t simmering in “Grey-Matter Stew!”

“Halleluyah. Holy shit. Where’s the tylenol?”

A New Day, A New Chapter

Posted in Short Stories (Some Wicked Little Beats), The Flow and Rhythm of Life, The Writing Process (How do I Come up These Beats?) with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on 12/21/2012 by Angel D. Vargas

Ladies and Gentlemen, Friday is upon us!

No more school, no more books, no more teachers, dirty looks!

And here is the chance for you lucky escapees to read a new chapter of my Serial, Unbreakable. Chapter 14 has  been written, edited and posted for your reading pleasure.

And here is the part where you ask, “but Mr. Callido (please, call me Angel), what happened to posting on Thursdays?” The answer really won’t surprise you. I was one day late for posting because my best friend was coming into the city, and what should I discover but that more people seem to have more time to read my serial and cast their votes on a Friday! What a goose I’ve been! So for now,  I will be posting new chapters of Unbreakable on Fridays.

In all fairness, folks, it’s a psychological thing for me as well. It feels like I’ve got one more day per week to come up with something dynamite for my readers. That may not technically be the case, but like so many of us, I too succumb to the temptation to take it easier on a Friday. I’m lucky if I even sign a check that day, let alone write an email. So come, enjoy the fruits of my labor, thank my best friend for helping me to edit this chapter as she does so many others, and enjoy the read! Kenshiro’s waiting for you, and we all know how crazy HE gets, right?’

Don’t forget to vote on my chapters. You, my loyal readers, know this. Bring others along for the ride, and don’t forget to tell them to sign up and vote! Logan needs to hone his powers, doesn’t he? He can’t if there’s no reason. Think of the children! Even if they are somehow … different.

 

Chapter 13 – Better Late Than Never!

Posted in The Flow and Rhythm of Life, The Writing Process (How do I Come up These Beats?) with tags , , , , , , , , , , on 12/14/2012 by Angel D. Vargas

Okay. So remember when I said that I was ultra busy? Oh wait, you probably don’t because I was too busy to say so. I apologize to my readers for this late post. My best friend is in my home city with me. She flew in yesterday and we’ve been snapping pictures of the NYC skyline and painting the town all sorts of colors. While her visit provides a welcome distraction from my normal schedule, it also means I’m posting this latest chapter of my serial, Unbreakable, this morning instead of last night. No worries. It’s still choice material. If you or your friends are fans of horror/paranormal stories, I recommend you check this story out immediately. Sign up at Jukepopserials.com if you haven’t already and give any or all of my chapters a vote if you think it is merited.

I’ve been noticing that people like my work, but they don’t want to create an account and vote. That’s all well and good for those people, but it could mean that my serial ceases to exist if I don’t stay on the charts, as it were. The site was created to measure the popularity of public online serials and their authors. The most popular serials may or may not end up becoming something more in the future. While it’s true that I’m working on many projects at one time, this one seems to have taken on a mind of its own. Don’t they all? But unfortunately, without OFFICIAL readership, I don’t get to regale anyone with further exploits of Logan and his band of merry guardians.

Do any of us want to add more frustration to Logan’s  life? I don’t see myself being able to hold back Zeke’s zealotry on the matter. And don’t even get me started on Kenshiro. He’s …  another matter.

I’m sitting at 67 votes. Can I break 75 with this next posting? Perhaps I can get to 80? I love and appreciate my staunch supporters already. I could always welcome new ones.

Chapter 12

Posted in Drum Roll, The Flow and Rhythm of Life, The Writing Process (How do I Come up These Beats?) with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on 12/06/2012 by Angel D. Vargas

No, my faithful readers, I have not forsaken thee.

I’m simply tired. This has been a full work week. Yet I’ve managed to come up with another chapter for my Serial, Unbreakable. Be sure to read chapter 12, vote for it (because let’s face it, why the hell wouldn’t you?) and then get your friends to vote on my serial, and get their friends and family to sign up, read it, and cast many votes in my favor.

 

Bribery doesn’t work when you don’t have any money, folks, so I’ll have to rely on your good judgment.

 

Fuck that shit. Free Aikido lessons to the next fifty voters.  😛

On another note, it’s come to my attention that links to my current chapter may only work if one is signed in with an account already. This is strange, and not at all convenient. Methinks a conversation with my lovely editor is in order 🙂

 

Adios for now.

 

 

Chapter 11 Arriveth.

Posted in Drum Roll, The Flow and Rhythm of Life, The Writing Process (How do I Come up These Beats?) with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on 11/29/2012 by Angel D. Vargas

As promised, Chapter 11 of my Serial, ‘Unbreakable’ is finished and posted at Jukpopserials.com for your reading pleasure.

Much has happened in the last few days. An unexpected bit of news has left its mark. But I will keep writing. That is really my best choice at the present.

Enjoy.

 

 

In The Thick of It

Posted in The Flow and Rhythm of Life, The Writing Process (How do I Come up These Beats?) with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on 09/28/2012 by Angel D. Vargas

Ok. I’m going to get to the heart of the matter.

Life is weird. Life is hard. I don’t know why, but I’m going through a blue period.

It isn’t as though there’s any reason that I can discern for it. Life may be hard, but I am living my dreams. I am writing for the masses. I hope to make some money at it someday. My work is being read by more and more people. I am having fun losing myself in the universes that I create.

I also feel alone even when I am surrounded by others.

I somehow don’t know how to react to the taste of success. It could be seconds away from my fingertips, and I would have an attack of nerves. I’d get cold feet  if I had to give a speech in public. Maybe I should just read it in someone else’s voice!

I’ve gotten colder. I’m not going to lie. My inner warrior took over. My mind has been on nothing but self defense and survival for so long now, that I can’t seem to shut it off and just breathe. I can’t put down the sword.

How often does one receive an anonymous gift of flowers?

And how did I forget to breathe when I got that gift? It doesn’t seem right to me.

Plainly, I’ve more work to do in learning to accept friendship, gratitude, love, admiration, and respect. I somehow got the impression that I didn’t deserve any of those things. I’m not going to delve into my past. I’ve already been there and done that. It’s time to move on.

I made a video tonight with new free editing software. In truth, I’m not at all sure how I did it. I didn’t add any effects. I didn’t speed anything up or slow anything down. It just sort of came together and turned out pretty well. My writing is the same way.  I don’t know where the fuck the next sentence is going to come from, but I plunk down one and than another. Before I even realize what I’ve done, I’ve amassed more than a thousand words inside of an hour.

I feel like my life has been that way. I don’t have a plan. I just get up, suit up, show up and hope to goodness that something good comes from my efforts.

Life often fucks with me when I make too many plans. So I have to tread with some care, it seems.

I’m awfully tired lately. I have a short fuse. People who waste my time become nothing but irritants.

And I’m worrying everyone around me. Co workers shake their heads and wonder why I go silent. Friends ask me what the matter is. My parents cock their heads and furrow their brows.

I feel like telling them all to back off.

But I won’t. It isn’t anyone’s intention to get under my skin or to try to make me admit to things that I don’t want to talk about. But the only answer I have for such a question is “don’t give up on me.” I can’t speed this along. I’m obviously in it. I’ll figure my way out of it. I always do.

Though I wonder if I’ve spent my entire life living with such a pattern. Perhaps these mood swings are seasonal in nature. It might explain why I brood so much during the fall.

Then again, maybe I brood because I haven’t yet learned to recognize my own progress.

It’s a lesson we might all need to be reminded of. It pays to take stock, but to focus too narrowly on one single detail can be toxic.

I’ll hold onto my flowers. I’ll keep writing my stories. I’ll keep blogging, recording my voice and making my vids.

I’ll keep trucking. With some better rest along the way, even I might learn to see the bright side of life.

Until then, maybe it’s best if I just get through the obstacles in my way and move along until I give a damn again.

Anyways, enjoy the vid. I made this bad boy myself 😉

 

 

 

 

I’m Out in Public. My Stars!

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on 09/24/2012 by Angel D. Vargas

It’s official. Someone decided to put me out there in the public eye.

I did tell you all it was coming sometime this month. Jukepop Serials has decided to put one of my stories up for public perusal. The catch is I have to continue it.

It’s not a bad thing, actually. I’ve got some things in mind.

So while you’re all invited to come and read the story and its subsequent chapters, if you want to vote to keep it going, you do have to sign up with Jukepop and make an account. it gives you voting privileges apparently.

Check out the link and find out what I’m talking about. My serial is called “Unbreakable.” The first chapter is up. Scroll your mouse over the covers of all the serials that are present at the website. You should see the titles pop out. If you need help, I’m using the white figure in the forest image as a cover.

Want to come along for another ride?

 

So It Begins

Posted in Drum Roll, The Flow and Rhythm of Life, The Writing Process (How do I Come up These Beats?) with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on 09/02/2012 by Angel D. Vargas

Hello all. To make this entry easier to read, try opening each of the embedded links in a separate window. It may save your browser some chugging time and confusion. 

 

I’ve got my iron dipped in many a flame.

That was meant to sound like that. Trust me.

I’ll start with the most exciting news for yours truly. I’ve got two written stories that are about to go public. I’m not entirely sure which is coming first, so I’ll tell you about them in no particular order.

One of the stories is coming out in a two part Horror anthology from a publication known as Siren’s Call. Check out the link if you want more general information about the publication. I’ve actually tried to submit something to them twice, and it looks like the second time is the charm. Their upcoming  anthology is dubbed ‘Carnage : After the End.’ (Check the link for more information) There were so many good writers who contributed to Siren’s call this time that the staff must have felt the need to release a two volume extravaganza. Sweet! I am honored to be a part of it 🙂 Get the issue when it arrives, hot off the presses, and look for the story “Juliana” written by ‘Angel D. Callido,’ and you’ll find my piece. You won’t regret reading it!

The second story that is due for public perusal is called “Unbreakable.” Now before you all go jumping the gun, yes, I know there is a movie with the same title. I have never seen it, and I never knew of its existence until after the fact, of course. I can guarantee that this story has nothing to do whatsoever with the movie 🙂 It was selected to be among the many stories from talented writers included in a soon to debut web publication known as Jukepop Serials. I’m still in awe that this is even happening, but the premise behind this particular story is very different from Juliana. “Unbreakable” may or may not become a long running serial as a result of being a part of Jukepop. That’s all I’ll tell you about that. If you want to read the story again, that will have to happen once the serial comes to the spotlight sometime this month. More details to come soon 😉

As far as my first attempt at a book goes, I have long since finished writing the thing, but I am a little over half way through my first large edit. Since I don’t want to send a professional editor utter crap for my first draft, this counts as very good news to me. I am afraid I can’t give you anything to nibble on as a sampler until I know for sure what direction this book will take. Suffice it to say this is a Horror/Erotica piece. It may be known to some as “Horrotica,” but I have only ever heard that name uttered in select circles. I rather like it myself. It is .. delicious.

I am also in the middle of a large scale spring cleaning that turned into a major overhaul of my entire apartment. I’ll spare you the details of that ongoing mission, but let’s just say the end result is a lot more breathing room in an iddy biddy living space 😉

I also work, and the hours are about to become more or less full time. Working at a Barnes and Noble has proven to be an interesting experience in its own right. It is not as easy as one might think it is, but I have relearned the fine art of pleasing the customer. It’s gotten so that one of my managers from work has dubbed me “Colonel.” I’m okay with it 🙂

I have a habit of wearing military style BDU shorts and pants all the time. And I realized yesterday my black cap is also the same style. Go figure.

When I stop and consider what my last few weeks have been like, maybe the comparison is apt. I suit up, show up, do my job and led by example. I expect others to either keep up or move along.

Now one would think that with all these ducks lining up in such an orderly fashion in my duck pond that I would feel a sense of accomplishment; a sense of peace. This is not so. It is as Langston Hughs once wrote in one of his famous poems.

I have “miles to go before I sleep.”

I’ll just make the official announcement now that I won’t be recording these entries in my dulcet tones until some of the dust settles in my life. Hopefully, that will be sometime before October. I wouldn’t quote me on that, but I won’t stop blogging for my growing legion of the night .. I mean the masses of my unholy army .. oh alright, my readers 🙂

Speaking of recordings of my voice, I am also a part of a podcast, as you may or may not know by now, called “Manual Stimulation.” All three members of this podcast, including myself, are undergoing intense battles with looming deadlines and life in general. Fear not, however. The show shall return in its full glory! I just can’t guarantee exactly when!

That’s all I have for now. When the dust settles more on the looking projects I’m juggling, I will begin to record more of these blog entries for those who miss my voice. The words will always be here, and so will I.

For those who want to further the insanity, check out this link.

I stumbled onto this as I was thinking of my “iddy biddy livingspace” comment. .. Erm.  Enjoy! (runs away cackling)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zbU8QWGMYZI

Editing my Horrotica Book ..

Posted in Drum Roll, The Writing Process (How do I Come up These Beats?) with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on 08/08/2012 by Angel D. Vargas

There’s a funny thing that happens when I edit short stories that I’ve written.

Maybe it’s not so much funny as it is aggravating. I perseverate on things. Sentence fragments. Run on sentences go on and on and on until I stop and deliberate on the uses of commas and periods only to find out that I’m either too trigger happy with the fucking things, or that I’m not savvy enough with them, and then it turns out that my friends are no better with commas and periods than I am, and don’t even get me started on the uses of semi colons and the like;

Whew.

In short, I am my own worst critic. You would think that this would make me an excellent editor for my work. You would think that I wouldn’t need the services of professionals.

But I won’t lie. I’m too biased, after a certain point, to know what I’ve missed.

Beta readers are important, in part, for this reason. I’ve got several loyal and wonderful writer friends who will help me in that department. YAY ME! And a big YAY should go to them all. You know who you are 😉

Short stories are one thing to edit. After a certain point, I’ve done all that I can do. I’ve listened to the advice of my beta readers. I’ve even read the darn thing aloud to myself and to others just to ensure the smoothness of my narrative. I find it easiest to catch errors this way. If it sounds awkward as I read, it will read that way to my audience. At least, I think this is true.

But now that I’ve gone and written a book, I find that the editing process is very different. In my mind, it’s a bit like dropping a pebble into a still pond. That pebble creates ripples, and these ripples can spread forever. They can, in fact, bump into other ripples created by other dropped rocks, or they can be blown away; fragmented by an unexpected wind.

But I can only see the ripples if I am under the sunlight. My book feels like the pond underneath the heat and the light of the sun.

The magnitude of my accomplishment is beginning to settle on me.

Editing a book of mine also makes me feel as though I am in a time warp. When I can go back to the beginning chapters of my book and ask myself questions like “Who the hell wrote this?” and “What the hell was I thinking?” I have to feel good. I feel good because I am a better writer who can catch many of these mistakes. My style has evolved. I’ve altered my use of American English (hopefully for the better).

The editing of erotica adds another interesting layer to this exposed feeling.

I am bearing my soul with my writing. I won’t mince words. I knew that I was going to try to get this thing published. I knew that I was going to finish this book, make some noise, edit the shit out of it, celebrate my greatness, and then allow a professional editor the smack the shit out of it (and my ego) if needed. I am capable of doing the forward, backward and side rolls I need to figure this thing out. I’ll put in the sweat. I’ll work through the tears and the desire to put my fist through walls.

What else is a warrior writer supposed to do, especially when they are trying to break into the business?

Erotica exposes a part of soul that I rarely share with others. People don’t look at me and assume “this man has sex on the brain.” Well, some might, but I either laugh at them or get their numbers depending on who they are. But we can all be honest with each other, right? People are probably better off not making more than perfunctory assumptions about one another on first glance.

But if I  am damned lucky and I work hard, someday, this part of me will be exposed to the world. I want to make people squirm at work. I want the husband who reads my stuff to go home and fuck his wife until the roof comes crashing down around their ears. I crave the knowledge that I caused someone to break into a sweat on an otherwise uneventful bus ride back home from work.

Now, my characters really ARE on a stage. It feels like there are cameramen and boom mic’s with them in each scene as I scratch out one word and use another. As I relinquish my use of adverbs, I zoom in on someone’s bare ass. As I add a description of the glint in my leading lady’s eye, I actually see her breasts heaving up and down in the heat of passion. My leading man is beginning to understand what a fluffer is.

Again, I ask, “What the fuck is going on?”

Throw in the horror aspect of my book, and what we have here is a recipe for double the pressure. I’ve got to keep the tension going on multiple levels. Horror must be a visceral experience too! Fear must build. Gooseflesh, thrills and surprise must be felt when this is all said and read.

Horror and erotica are two of the hardest things to write, and perhaps two of the strangest genres to combine. The thing they both have in common other than being so difficult to do WELL is that both must be shown with such clarity. I want everyone who reads my work to feel what these characters experience. I want grab my readers by the hand and leap head first into a hell of a ride. I want them to break into a sweat for one reason or another.

I don’t know if I’m good enough to accomplish this. But I am not afraid to do the work to find out.

And damn is it fun!

I don’t know all the unwritten rules of writing a book or editing it. This is something that I can only learn by doing it over and over again. I can go to the drawing board as many times as it takes. I can pour my soul into every word that you will ever see. But I didn’t go to school to learn to write fiction. My hat is off to those who have. I may even take a class on creative writing someday when I’m not creating something else to scream about. What I’ve discovered lately is that there are so MANY good writers out there, I can only guess at what defines success for each one.

For me, the appeal for writing always was and always WILL be the ability to use my voice to add something original, fun and beautiful to the world.

Look for it. Listen for it.  It’s coming.

I may or may not record these words later for my amusement and your entertainment 😉 Fear not! my dulcet tones shall return later this week!

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