Tag: fiction

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?

Sail on

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It’s always exciting to get author copies in the mail. I think, what is this box, I don’t remember ordering anything, and then I open it and my work is inside!

Flame Tree makes such lovely-looking anthologies, and it’s such a pleasure to be included in this one. Especially after a few previous attempts to get acceptances to Flame Tree anthologies. They have excellent calls for submission, and now I can confirm that they’re also excellent to work with and pay really well. Their Substack offers reliably great writing advice too.

I’m having way too much fun with the ocean theming here. I already owned the giant shell in this photo because I own a thousand sea shells. C’mon, I’m a Jersey Shore kid. I spent my childhood beachcombing and playing Skee-Ball.

I also participated in Flame Tree’s social media campaign for the book, which is a rare occasion to see my actual face on Instagram. Please do appreciate the painting behind me in that video, because my grandfather made it. He wasn’t a formally trained artist, couldn’t go to art school. But he loved painting boats and the ocean, and I think it’s a real privilege to have some of his work on my wall.

I technically have two author copies of the anthology, but my Greek-mythology-nerd kid has swiped the other one. I think he’s taking credit for inspiring my story in the first place. (Not entirely untrue. To be fair.)

Anyway, see you at the theaters for the Odyssey movie. My kid will be the one nitpicking every scene. I’ll be the one nodding politely and eating popcorn.

If you want to know more about the Odysseus anthology, check out Flame Tree’s site.

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It’s been a scary week to be Jewish, she says, as though that has not been true week after week after week. But incidents like this really bring things out in the open. And this. And this. And those are just the violent or potentially violent incidents over the past week. Not shown: all the other incidents.

May is Jewish American Heritage Month. If you’re feeling so inclined, read a book by a Jewish author. If you like it, tell them so. We’d appreciate a little solidarity these days. It goes a long way.

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One of my long-shot story submissions—the “lottery ticket” one—wasn’t accepted. I was sad about it for a day or so, but that’s the risk of playing the lottery. In the meantime, I kicked another story back out to a magazine and am continuing to work on the fantasy novel.

I’m also maybe doing something a little ridiculous and revisiting my first middle grade manuscript. I still like it. Is it publishable? *insert shrug emoji here* I might send it a few places just to see.

Make them tell you no, right?

The sun is out. Have a lovely week, be safe.

News, updates, etc.

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First off, here is the cover for the Odysseus anthology I have a horror-ish story in. Look at it! It is gorgeous.

Flame Tree creates such pretty-looking books. I can’t wait to hold it in my hands and read the other contributors’ stories.

And yes I will be going to see the new Odyssey film in July, and I’ll expect my Greek-mythology-nerd kid to be nitpicking it the whole time. I will shrug and eat my popcorn.

I am currently making my way through the Sherlock Holmes-themed anthology I have a story in, and there is some great stuff in there, including a story in which Watson hangs out with Vincent Van Gogh. Mine puts two female characters at center stage and takes place in America, because the Hudson Valley region is gorgeous and because I said so.

There are other stories I’m trying to find homes for—fingers crossed as always. The short story I’m working on now seems more or less coherent, so I’m switching back to the fantasy novel for a while in order to make the rough draft less rough.

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In-person book events are a delight and wow is a strong internet connection necessary. That was my takeaway from a multi-author event last weekend. I showed up to surprise my author friend Lisa Fox, whom I’ve known so long we were editors at our college newspaper together. (She is awesome, check her work out.)

The place was busy! People are absolutely looking for that in-person connection with authors, if this event was any indication. A lot of attendees brought tote bags along for their purchases, which is a thing I should have thought of. I got to chat with a number of authors, always a pleasure, plus there was live music, author presentations, bookmark decorating, and food. And a mobile bookstore outside. Lots to do.

About that internet connection: No authors I talked to had credit card readers, and you can’t Venmo a payment if your phone isn’t getting a signal. I had some cash on hand, but my buying options were limited. This of course was probably better for my wallet. But I do like to support other authors.

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I don’t necessarily post something every time there’s an attack on Jews or synagogues because if I did, that would be the entire content of this blog, and I would be posting daily. It’s not just frightening, it’s exhausting.

But I will say this:

Twice in the past few months, I’ve donated money to a U.S. synagogue to repair or rebuild after it was damaged in an attack.

I’ve been walking past armed guards to attend services at least since the Pittsburgh synagogue shootings, and maybe before then. I expect I’ll be doing that for the rest of my life.

None of this is okay.

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In the meantime, I keep telling stories because that’s what I know how to do.

Have a good week, stay safe, enjoy the sunshine.

New story announcement

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Write what you know.

It’s good advice but so easy to misinterpret.

Taken to the illogical extreme, writers wouldn’t be allowed to write anything beyond their own lived experiences, and that would kill a lot of good writing. You can create whole worlds with a decent amount of research, imagination, and empathy, so why wouldn’t you?

I think the point is to write what you know emotionally. You can write about heartbreak or loneliness or joy if you’ve lived it. How you infuse those emotions into your characters is up to you.

The horror story just published on Gavagai is a little bit of my real emotions, but it’s also based on my secret fears (knowing all too well what life is like for kids who are “different”), and I’m glad it isn’t reality. Hope it resonates with you.

An announcement, and a message

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I had the call for submissions up on my screen when my 16-year-old walked in and said excitedly, “Is that an Odyssey anthology?”

Like any standard fantasy nerd, my 16-year-old is having a Greek mythology phase. Mine started in grade school (Clash of the Titans!). My kiddo’s is based around Percy Jackson and Epic: The Musical, and this is a shout-out to the other parents who also brought their teens to the Troy Doherty concert in New York a few months back because Troy sings Hermes in Epic. There was a girl cosplaying as Circe on line behind us and handing out little pig trinkets. I love a good fandom. (But I also texted my husband, “I feel like I’m chaperoning the prom.”)

“You have to write something for this,” my kiddo said.

“I will if I come up with a good idea,” I said, and promptly started rereading The Odyssey.

Anyway, I’m excited to announce my story is one of the offerings in the anthology! “Phemius” retells the homecoming of Odysseus through the eyes of the unlucky poet who happens to be performing for Penelope’s suitors that bloody day—so yeah, basically a horror story. Odysseus from Flame Tree Press will be available in April, and I can’t wait to read everyone else’s stories.

And I scored some cool points with my kiddo.

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I was out on a freelance assignment the other day when the person I was interviewing mentioned he liked my Star of David necklace. I paused before thanking him. Usually when people notice you’re Jewish, it isn’t a good thing.

I don’t hide who I am in any setting. Mostly because I shouldn’t have to. Also because I know that hiding doesn’t work.

I attended an Orthodox synagogue as a kid, but at home we were outwardly pretty secular—wore the same clothes as everyone else, ate the same food (outside the house, anyway), attended public schools, did all the same ballet class/softball kid things. I’ve always had a not-Jewish-sounding name. I’ve been told, more than once, Oh, you don’t look Jewish! like it’s a compliment. I never wore a Star of David to school. And yet the other kids threw pennies at me anyway. Called me names. Told me I killed Jesus. Hiding didn’t matter. When you’re “different,” people know.

So I don’t hide. But being Jewish in public has gotten a lot more fraught in the past couple years.

My heart is scorched by the terrorist attack in Australia on families who just wanted to celebrate Hanukkah. By all the other attacks on Jews around the world, a whole litany of them in recent years. I am tired and furious and sad.

But I’m still wearing my star. And I’m lighting my menorah tonight.

Driving out the darkness is the point.

Happy Hanukkah.

Superpowered in Delaware

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Getting short fiction published can feel like it’s all in your head. You get an emailed acceptance, you get emailed a contract and edits. Getting your copy of the anthology or magazine (or the publication link) is proof that the acceptance was real and your name is in print. It’s building a sandcastle, hoping that someone will see it and praise it before the tide comes in.

Which was why I was so willing to drive the several hours to Delaware for an anthology launch party. How cool is it to actually meet the editors who liked your work enough to publish it? Pretty cool. Especially when the launch is for a superhero anthology, being held at a comic book store.

I’ve loved comics my whole life, from the drugstore three-packs my parents used to bring home for me when I was a kid to the Elfquest comics I was obsessed with in high school and college to the DC Vertigo and Bone books I used to grab from Midtown Comics when I worked in New York (and assorted other stores in New Jersey, when I worked closer to home). Favorite superheroes? Batman and Spider-Man when I was a kid, Ms. Marvel more recently. But I’ll read almost any comic, just like I’ll watch almost anything animated. So it was great to be in a room full of people who also love comics and superheroes.

Happy to report that the Oddity Prodigy folks are a delight—friendly, enthusiastic, clearly loving what they do—and Captain Blue Hen Comics in Newark (NewARK, not NEWark, or they’ll know you’re from Jersey) is a really nice store with plenty of space and a good all-ages selection. Turnout for the launch about filled the store, and I got to meet some of the other authors in the anthology as we signed copies.

Regret #1: I should’ve dragged out my old Marvel shirt to match attendees’ superhero dress code. But noooo, I decided to dress “professional.”

Regret #2: Completely forgetting to take photos, because “journalist” isn’t my day job or anything.

Not a regret at all: Wandering around Newark before the launch, because it’s a cute, laid-back college town and I got some writing done at a coffeehouse. Also, buying Tusk Love at the comics store and indulging my Critical Role fandom. (You’re supposed to show up at your own launch and buy other people’s books, right?)

At any rate, Where Legends Walk is available now and it’s got some great stories. Go forth and read it.

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I’ve got another anthology acceptance I’m excited to talk about, but I need to wait for the official go-ahead. Soon, I think? Plus I’ve got a short story in progress that might not go anywhere, but man is it fun to write.

And I’m working on my fantasy novel and metaphorically beating my head on the desk over the magic system. Right, this is why I don’t usually write straight fantasy. But progress is progressing.

In the meantime, I’ll be taking my kid on college visits and doing Thanksgiving prep and Hanukkah shopping and trying not to get too incensed at the news. (Trying. Ha.)

Hope you’re able to do something creative this week, and that you remember to breathe.

Writing in these times

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I check the news every day. Several times a day. Yes, I am perpetually frustrated and outraged. No, it’s not great for my mental health. (Or for the actual physical health and safety of so many other people. Worry about them, not me.) At the end of the day, at the end of the week while we’re lighting Shabbos candles, I focus inward: Everyone in this family is okay. That’s what I can control. As long as we’re okay, we’re available to help others. And so on to the next week.

So how do I keep writing? How does one stay creative when everything is on fire? For me, this one’s easy. Because I write fantasy.

The entire point of fantasy is to escape reality. It’s to imagine a place where magic exists and people can call down lightning or change shape with their bare hands. Where otherworldly creatures fly, or breathe fire, or heal injuries with a touch of their horn. Where ordinary people band together for an extraordinary purpose, and through their courage, friendship and honor, change the world.

The magic is fun, but it isn’t really the point. Because fantasy is about taking on a quest and seeing it through, no matter the cost. It’s about the best of what we can be. That’s why I grew up reading fantasy, and why I write it now. It tells me what kind of reality to strive for.

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With disappointment and regret, I’m moving on from my middle grade golem novel; after this last rejection, I’ve run out of agents to query. I was hoping for a better result, especially after the manuscript awards, but so be it.

I am happy to report that the superhero anthology I have a story in blew way past its Kickstarter goals and should be out in the next month or two. Also happy to report that the foreword was written by J.M. DeMatteis, comics legend who’s written for a ton of superhero titles. His Moonshadow is considered the first fully painted graphic novel; when I read it years ago, I thought it was offbeat, funny and a strange kind of beautiful.

I have another story acceptance that I’m hoping to announce soon. Otherwise, I have various stories boomeranging back and forth looking for homes and a fantasy novel-in-progress that’s starting to look like something interesting. So we’ll see what the next few months bring.

Keep writing, stay safe.

Things are changing

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There’s change for the bad, and for the good. And sometimes both.

The worst part of losing a pet is having to make the decision. I kept hoping Theo would die peacefully in her sleep, but even as she lost her appetite and her ability to walk, she kept hanging on until we brought her to the vet.

The last time I lost a cat, she died in the car on the way to the emergency vet. This was the first time I went through the process of putting a cat to sleep, and it’s wrenching. She was in pain, and it was time. But I still keep thinking I hear her around the house, yowling for lunch (she was the only cat I’d ever met who insisted that cats get lunch), claws scrabbling as she hops onto the kitchen island or the stove to hunt for crumbs. My office is quieter without her barging into it. No one is claiming my space on the couch. Our other cat keeps looking around, puzzled, because he has the house to himself but no one to fight with.

There’s been a lot to adjust to this summer. We officially have a child in college and an empty bedroom (where I can finally see the floor again). We’ll be cooking for three, not four, and beginning college visits all over again for our younger one. Being a parent means planning ahead for the day when they leave you and hoping you did it more or less right.

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In the meantime, I had one horror story published by On the Premises (second-place winner!) and my feminine-rage superhero story is upcoming in an anthology by Oddity Prodigy Productions—check out the Kickstarter here. This is only the second time I’ve tried to get that story published, mainly because there aren’t many markets for original superhero stories, so I’d call that a win.

I had three—or four? Now I don’t remember—other short stories shortlisted by various publications that ultimately didn’t get selected, but making the shortlist is still exciting. All stories have bounced back out to find homes. And my fantasy novel is still in progress. Unfortunately I’m still figuring out the backstory as I go, so I look forward to completely rewriting the beginning in a few months. And then revising the whole dang thing.

Change is in the air. Here’s hoping it’s for the good. Keep writing, stay safe.

Despite the storm

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We were in the Poconos recently on a family trip. Rain was threatening, and thunder rolled across the lake. My son and I sat on the balcony of our hotel room, casually chatting, while the thunder got louder and the rain poured down and lightning flashed around us. A strange crackling, crashing sound startled us; we guessed lightning had hit a tree somewhere around the lake. Sirens blared, warning people about the lightning. And we kept sitting there, talking, determined to enjoy ourselves, despite the chaos and the danger.

If that doesn’t feel like a metaphor for this entire year—and maybe the past few years—I don’t know what does.

Awful things keep happening, in the country and in the world, but so do high school graduations and family trips. Life just keeps going. You acknowledge the danger, you try and keep your loved ones safe. But you also enjoy the lakeside view, if you’re lucky enough to have one. Even in the rain.

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My group’s first-ever Pride event in town was a success, I’m happy to report, and we’re already planning next year’s event.

After a whole string of stories getting shortlisted but then ultimately rejected, I have two short stories set to be published soon! I’ll post the links as soon as they’re up. One I wrote years ago, pulled out and revised recently, then sent off to see what would happen, and I’m so glad to find it a home.

In the meantime, I’m working on this fantasy novel (including in the car, to and from the Poconos). I’m still figuring out how the different elements fit together and how the main characters feel about each other, but I’ll have a better sense of all that by the end. And then the real work begins.

Hoping for hopeful things this summer. Stay safe, keep creating.