Month: June 2026

Recovering from StokerCon

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I made some assumptions when I went to the Horror Writers Association’s StokerCon last week. One was that the drive to Pittsburgh wouldn’t take an entire day. Another was that Pennsylvania rest areas are just like New Jersey and New York rest areas and have restaurants available, instead of making you leave the highway to find food. A third was that I would have the time and energy during the conference to work on my novel.

No, no, and not a chance.

There are a lot of panels and author readings at StokerCon, pretty much nonstop from Thursday to Sunday. At any given hour, there are at least three interesting choices but you can only pick one. Then figure out meals in between them. And there is a lot of socializing. Hanging out at the hotel bar. Hotel room parties. Expeditions to local restaurants. (Excellent pierogies. I love pierogies.) Author signings and talking to the friendly indie publishers in the dealers room. Plus the short horror film festival and the Stoker Awards ceremony, for which people put on their spooky/goth/quirky/glittery best clothes. And getting a chance to walk around Pittsburgh and visit an art festival held on a bridge.

And getting to meet the other members of my writers group in person for the first time in three years. They are cool people and amazing writers, and it’s a privilege to read their work. Turns out they’re also fun to explore Pittsburgh with (we walked through a cemetery, seems appropriate) and bond with over Stephen King fandom.

I haven’t been a true night owl in years—children have this annoying need to wake up early for school—but I became one again for the purposes of this conference. And then came back to my hotel room every night and collapsed.

And then came home and got sick. I’ve heard about con crud but never gotten it before. Most of last week was spent coughing and feeling blah. Honestly? Worth it.

While I was feeling blah, I got two story rejections. Those stories have been boomeranged right back out, of course. What I heard at StokerCon inspired me to rewrite another story that had never quite worked, so I’m about to send that one out as well.

Creative inspiration is a big reason to go to writers conferences. But the best part is talking to other writers. You can commiserate with each other, get excited about each other’s work, lift each other up. Who else is going to understand this weird thing we do besides other writers?

I’m already looking forward to next year.

Why scary is good

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Reading or watching a horror story is like riding a roller coaster.

No, hear me out.

It’s scary. There are unexpected twists and turns. There’s a horrific drop and your stomach leaps into your throat. You close your eyes, you don’t want to look. You think this goosebump/shivering/screeching moment will never end. And then it does, and you’re okay. You breathe a sigh of relief and you might even be proud of yourself for surviving so well.

(Did this metaphor occur to me because I was just at Disney? Maaaybe.*)

That’s the point of scaring yourself, though. To show that you can handle it. That scary things are survivable and monsters can be beaten. In a weird way, it’s empowering.

This is on my mind since I’m attending my first StokerCon this week. It’s my first Horror Writers Association event, my first non-kidlit writers conference in years, my first time in a new city. Certainly the biggest writers conference I’ve attended. I’m hoping to meet some cool fellow nerds and learn some useful craft/industry info. Also hoping not to get lost. No promises.

It feels a bit like starting over, in that I’m not basing my entire fiction-writing identity around kidlit anymore. This time, though? I already know better than to walk around in heels. I’ll be the one in sneakers, thanks. With a notebook and an open mind, and whatever happens happens.

It’s a risk, and a lot of new faces, and possibly scary. But you know, I love roller coasters.

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I’m still on a high over Flame Tree’s Odysseus anthology, which is so gorgeous and such a pleasure to see my work in. A group of writers I know have started holding monthly public readings of their work, either published or in progress, at a distillery. Lovely place, speakeasy vibes, the drinks are dangerously good. At the last meetup, I brought the anthology along and read some of my “Phemius” story. I didn’t expect it to be so much fun to read aloud! I wrote it to sound like a bard was talking, very lyrical and serious, and it forced me to perform the work as well as read it, which is the right way to read a story aloud anyway. The real-time audience response was about as good as the drinks.

It’s tough to get a sense of how people will respond to your stories when you’re sitting at your desk by yourself, not hearing anything but your own thoughts. If you get a chance to share your work publicly, and support other writers who are sharing theirs, do it. Walking up to a microphone in the middle of a crowded bar is also scary, but it’s worth the ride.

*Bending my metaphor here to note that my must-do ride at Disney isn’t a roller coaster. It’s the Haunted Mansion. Have we not established that I like spooky things?