BizarroCon!

It has taken me longer than I’d like to type this all out, cobbled together from notes taken while at the con, pictures, posts of friends, and even a podcast recap but here we are at last.

This year I attended my very first BizarroCon and it felt like coming home, like meeting a family I never knew I had, like being part of something that I just naturally fit in to without trying… and it was such a wonderful experience.

Several months back, I posted on Facebook wishing that there was a horror convention in the Pacific Northwest. A few of my friends immediately responded with enthusiastic shouts of “BIZARROCON!” , which I had not previously heard of. So I looked into it. I hadn’t made it public yet, but I had just had a manuscript accepted by Eraserhead Press, which I was (and am!) insanely excited about… so when I saw that BizarroCon was theirs, my decision was made.

Now I should mention that I can be really awkward sometimes… I have a tendency to get flustered in social situations which inevitably leads to me saying or doing the wrong thing…. that tendency often makes me even MORE nervous because I’m so worried about making the wrong impression. For that reason, cons can sometimes freak/stress me out a bit… but that is ESPECIALLY true when I care a lot about making a good impression… and in a situation where there were so many awesome people in one place I was beyond worried about it… But my fears proved to be unfounded (for the most part… I did fangirl at John Skipp and Carlton Mellick III… the latter of which I’m sure thinks I’m a blathering idiot…) The environment was so welcoming, so friendly, so just… right that my awkwardness and fear were a distant memory before I really had much time to think about it. For that, I have to thank Danger Slater, who first noticed me kind of hiding in a corner and pulled me out of it, Rose O’Keefe herself who took the time to make sure I felt comfortable and pull me just a bit more out of my shell, and Tiffany Scandal, who was friendly, fun, and awesome and shared a conversation with me while I waited for my food at the Power Station bar.  Jeff Burk gave me a full set of Dinosaurs Attack! Cards, which I proceeded to dig through gleefully filled with nostalgia and giggles.

There were way too many awesome things that happened and wonderful people I met to list, so please excuse me if I forget anything or anyone… but here are some of my favorite moments:

 

 

 

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There was a creepy jester on my door! I absolutely loved the art all over the hotel where the con was held (The historic McMenamin’s Edgefield) but this little guy was one of my absolute favorites. Luckily for me, he was in my room!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The PICKLE PARTY! That was so much fun and such a great way to connect with people over food! Thankfully my favorite brand (local to my home near Boston) is available in Portland! So I grabbed a container and was able to participate!

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The Eraserhead Press Party! I was so sad that I kept nodding off at the Eraserhead Press party! Truth be told I’ve never been a night owl, but add in jetlag and a loooong plane ride with a connection on a tiny little prop plane and… I was ready to hit the hay almost as soon as the fun began. I made it long enough to buy books (YES!) and catch a few readings before I decided that falling asleep at the party might become a real possibility, so I regretfully headed back to my room to sleep under the watchful eyes of that creepy jester fellow.

 

 

 

 

 

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ART! I got to see some really awesome people creating some really incredible art! The legendary Alan Clark painted a beautiful portrait, Andrew Goldfarb worked his velvet magic, and the incredibly talented Liv Rainey-Smith carved one of her beautiful and insanely detailed woodcuts. Liv was really wonderful and answered all of my questions about her work.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Workshops! I attended two different workshops, one on writing like a scenarist taught by John Skipp and one on writing visually taught by Brian Keene. Both workshops were very informative and both instructors are masters of their craft and imparted their wisdom to a group of diverse people with varying career paths. It was really wonderful to be able to learn from two people I really admire and respect. As a bonus, John Skipp said that I “aced” the homework assignment! I was glowing!

 

 

 

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Readings! Reading is always an activity I enjoy and I try to do it as often as I can. My reading at BizarroCon was awesome. I shared the slot with the AMAZING Christine Morgan (more on her later!) and she read from her upcoming Deadite Press book Spermjackers From Hell. A tough act to follow, to be sure. I read my favorite scene from The Terminal and received many compliments. Josh Spicoli said he enjoyed my reading so much, he bought the book from Amazon on the spot! Thanks, Josh! I also saw some really amazing readings. Jeff Burk and Kevin L. Donihe shared a slot and it was one of my all time favorites. First Jeff read a selection of classic and original Crappy Pastas. He read one of the most famous examples and deadpanned the final line in such a way that I was struggling not to choke with laughter. Then Kevin L. Donihe read a disturbing tale of a particularly unfortunate rag followed by the world’s greatest dramatic reading of the novelization of The Cable Guy (thanks to a generous raffle prize from CV Hunt).

 

 

 

The FOOD! Everything I consumed at BizarroCon was amazing! From those delicious pickles and zucchini bread from Ross Lockhart to the breakfasts at the Black Rabbit, to the beers (and cider) I sampled at the party, the fajitas at the Wonderland Book Awards… everything was fantastic.
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My favorite moment of the con has to go to Christine Morgan. She made me a doll based on Captain Axe (the villain from my novella, The Terminal). There are no words for how I felt when I saw him. It’s one of the coolest things anyone has done for me and one of the most kind, welcoming, amazing gestures ever. Thank you, Christine! Captain Axe now graces a very special spot in my writing nook!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I will DEFINITELY be back for BizarroCon 2017!

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My Crazy Adventure: Post Con Report!

This past weekend, I did something utterly insane. Well, more insane than my usual, anyway. I attended both Necon and Scares That Care despite the fact that they were on the same weekend several states away from one another.

There were many reasons why I choose to do something so… crazy. For one thing, I’m horribly indecisive and both events would be full of friends I don’t get to see often enough and trying to decide between them was making my brain hurt. For another, The Terminal is available in paperback and I am trying really, really hard to get more readers, more reviews, and (hopefully) more fans, and pulling a crazy stunt like attending two conventions many hundreds of miles away from each other in the same weekend seemed like a good way to draw some attention. Yet another reason is that I wanted to test the waters a bit to see which convention I want to attend in 2017, as Necon and Scares That Care will fall on the same weekend once more then.

I had a wonderful time at both events. I saw some amazing, awesome people, had some terrific conversations, got some great new reading material, and sold some books. There were far, far, FAR too many great things for me to recall, let alone recount in a single blog post, so don’t feel sad or left out if you don’t get mentioned. There was simply too much awesome.

First up was Friday at Necon in Portsmouth, Rhode Island. I’ve attended Necon for the past few years and it has always been an excellent time. Necon is less of a convention and more of a great big family reunion where everyone just happens to be a horror enthusiast and a creator of one type or another. It’s a great event, run by amazing people, and attended by some of the most talented authors, editors, and artists in the business. It’s also about 90 minutes away from my house, so getting there was a bit less crazy than you might think.

Necon isn’t the type of event you’d want to attend as a fan. It’s geared more towards writers, publishers, editors, illustrators, etc. It’s a close knit group of people who are always welcoming, kind, and full of advice and enthusiasm. There are some awesome Necon events (which I missed this year, sadly) like the annual Necon Roast and Saugies! (If you don’t know what that is… go to Necon and attend the Newbie group event the first night!), industry focused panels, informative kaffeeklatsches (which are like panels, but more open and conversational), a Hawaiian shirt competition, signing party, and of course a Dealers’ Room.

My day at Necon was far too short, but it was full of great moments, like these highlights:

I attended a Kaffeeklatsch called A Thousand thousand Paper Cuts: The Year in Print where my good friends Cat(herine Grant) and Barry (Lee Dejasu) talked about their favorite books of the year, along with my new friend, Frank Michaels Errington, and pal Charles Rutledge and others. Amazon thanks all of them for the box of books that was delivered to me today.

Me and Linda

I took a selfie (left) with the utterly amazing Linda Addison. I met Linda a few years ago at some convention or another, and I’ve been envious of her killer sense of style ever since. Linda is an incredibly talented poet. If you’re friends on Facebook or you follow her on Twitter, you’ve seen her life poems. You know.

Jeff Strand (If you aren’t reading Jeff’s stuff, GET TO WORK! Oh, and sign up for his newsletter!) bought a copy of The Terminal and signed the very first personalized copy of his new novel, Blister, to me. (I haven’t finished it yet, but so far I think it might be his best!)

I heard a great, funny ‘ghost’ story from Sephera Giron.

Scott gets all yarned up.

I chatted up many fantastic people, friends old and new, whom I hadn’t seen in far too long.

I watched Scott Goudsward of the NEHW get yarn bombed for charity while catching Pokemon (Pictured right).

I met my dear friend, Mercedes Yardley, in person for the first time and she gave me the soft blue Gamut blanket she made for me (Pictured below).

 

Me & Mercedes & Blanky

All in all, it was a great, though short, day!

Next up, Saturday, was my ONE DAY ONLY! appearance at Scares That Care in Williamsburg, Virginia. It was my very first Scares and I was really excited to go, as I’ve heard just about everyone saying that it’s the best convention they’ve been to as a reader or a fan since the first one back in 2014. Scares That Care is a more ‘traditional’ sort of convention, but only in the sense that it’s fan oriented. In every other sense, it’s a cut above.

The event is run by a really awesome charity of the same name that does so much good for people suffering from awful diseases or were victims of tragic events like fires. The fact that the proceeds go to help people who truly need it is wonderful and definitely makes attending an even more positive experience. Joe Ripple is a truly inspiring person and a generous guy indeed.

Much like my Necon visit, my single day at Scares That Care was far, far too short. Again, if I didn’t mention you or our conversation, I’m sorry! There was simply too much awesome for one post to contain! Here are a few highlights:

Ignore my sweaty red faced-ness. I do not tolerate heat well.

First… not chronologically but because I am still reeling… Joe R. Lansdale, (yes THAT Joe R. Lansdale!) bought a copy of The Terminal and asked me to personalize it to him and his lovely and (also very talented) wife, Karen. I have been a fan of Mr. Lansdale since I read his short, Mad Dog Summer, in the same anthology that introduced me to Rick Hautala. Photographic evidence to the left!

I attended a reading by Yvonne Navarro ( aka The Vampire Queen) and Kelli Owen (Buttercup of Doom) that was really excellent. Kelli read from my favorite of her stories, Wilted Lilies and it was great to watch her read such a deep, interesting, tragic character’s tale. Yvonne read a very unsettling story about a blood sucking tax collector. Ewe!

Brian Keene gave me a copy of one of his books that I didn’t even know existed, which is pretty impressive, as he’s my favorite author and I collect his work. That was pretty amazing!

I attended a reading by Robert Ford (and he didn’t make my cry this time!) and Tom Monteleone, whom I’ve written about before. Bob read from his new release, The Last Firefly of Summer and Tom read one of his nonfiction pieces from The Mothers and Fathers Italian Association. Both readings were great, as both readers are among the best in the business.

Jacob Haddon, of Apokrupha, was kind enough to share some table space with me, enabling me to sell a whole bunch of copies of The Terminal, which is excellent! His lovely wife, Leah, was a fun table companion. I also got to chat with my friend, John Boden, and buy a copy of his new release, Jedi Summer.

Tom Monteleone, whom I referenced above, signed a copy of the newest Borderlands anthology to me with the following inscription:

8 year old me would be speechless!

Not one, but two separate people, on two completely separate occasions, referred to me as “Progeny of Jesus (JF) Gonzalez”. Which… I can’t put into words the feeling that evoked. I adore JF’s work. His writing is extremely influential on my own. Not to mention the fact that he helped me out tremendously when I was just getting started, with advice, friendship, and even an interview on this very blog.

I watched the trailer for Mike Lombardo’s I’m Dreaming of a White Doomsday, which looks like it’s going to be fantastic. I absolutely love the source material: a deeply dark, depressing short story written by the director himself. I can’t wait to see the movie in its entirety!

I chatted with the lovely Mary SanGiovanni. Mary is such a great person and a dear friend. I bought a copy of her con only chapbook, Shadow Puppets, which I’ll be reading soon.

I discovered new favorite stories by two of my favorite authors: Kelli Owen’s Childhood Ghosts, featured in the Scares That Care ‘Zine, is a creepy tale with tons of Halloween flavor. Joe Lansdale’s On A Dark October is just… it’s pure Lansdale. It defies description. Sufficed to say, it’s damned good.

There was pizza, good conversation, fun, and merriment enough to last me (MAYBE!) until the next con.

My Crazy Adventure: Post Con Report!

This past weekend, I did something utterly insane. Well, more insane than my usual, anyway. I attended both Necon and Scares That Care despite the fact that they were on the same weekend several states away from one another.

There were many reasons why I choose to do something so… crazy. For one thing, I’m horribly indecisive and both events would be full of friends I don’t get to see often enough and trying to decide between them was making my brain hurt. For another, The Terminal is available in paperback and I am trying really, really hard to get more readers, more reviews, and (hopefully) more fans, and pulling a crazy stunt like attending two conventions many hundreds of miles away from each other in the same weekend seemed like a good way to draw some attention. Yet another reason is that I wanted to test the waters a bit to see which convention I want to attend in 2017, as Necon and Scares That Care will fall on the same weekend once more then.

I had a wonderful time at both events. I saw some amazing, awesome people, had some terrific conversations, got some great new reading material, and sold some books. There were far, far, FAR too many great things for me to recall, let alone recount in a single blog post, so don’t feel sad or left out if you don’t get mentioned. There was simply too much awesome.

First up was Friday at Necon in Portsmouth, Rhode Island. I’ve attended Necon for the past few years and it has always been an excellent time. Necon is less of a convention and more of a great big family reunion where everyone just happens to be a horror enthusiast and a creator of one type or another. It’s a great event, run by amazing people, and attended by some of the most talented authors, editors, and artists in the business. It’s also about 90 minutes away from my house, so getting there was a bit less crazy than you might think.

Necon isn’t the type of event you’d want to attend as a fan. It’s geared more towards writers, publishers, editors, illustrators, etc. It’s a close knit group of people who are always welcoming, kind, and full of advice and enthusiasm. There are some awesome Necon events (which I missed this year, sadly) like the annual Necon Roast and Saugies! (If you don’t know what that is… go to Necon and attend the Newbie group event the first night!), industry focused panels, informative kaffeeklatsches (which are like panels, but more open and conversational), a Hawaiian shirt competition, signing party, and of course a Dealers’ Room.

My day at Necon was far too short, but it was full of great moments, like these highlights:

I attended a Kaffeeklatsch called A Thousand thousand Paper Cuts: The Year in Print where my good friends Cat(herine Grant) and Barry (Lee Dejasu) talked about their favorite books of the year, along with my new friend, Frank Michaels Errington, and pal Charles Rutledge and others. Amazon thanks all of them for the box of books that was delivered to me today.

Me and Linda

I took a selfie (left) with the utterly amazing Linda Addison. I met Linda a few years ago at some convention or another, and I’ve been envious of her killer sense of style ever since. Linda is an incredibly talented poet. If you’re friends on Facebook or you follow her on Twitter, you’ve seen her life poems. You know.

Jeff Strand (If you aren’t reading Jeff’s stuff, GET TO WORK! Oh, and sign up for his newsletter!) bought a copy of The Terminal and signed the very first personalized copy of his new novel, Blister, to me. (I haven’t finished it yet, but so far I think it might be his best!)

I heard a great, funny ‘ghost’ story from Sephera Giron.

Scott gets all yarned up.

I chatted up many fantastic people, friends old and new, whom I hadn’t seen in far too long.

I watched Scott Goudsward of the NEHW get yarn bombed for charity while catching Pokemon (Pictured right).

I met my dear friend, Mercedes Yardley, in person for the first time and she gave me the soft blue Gamut blanket she made for me (Pictured below).


Me & Mercedes & Blanky


All in all, it was a great, though short, day!

Next up, Saturday, was my ONE DAY ONLY! appearance at Scares That Care in Williamsburg, Virginia. It was my very first Scares and I was really excited to go, as I’ve heard just about everyone saying that it’s the best convention they’ve been to as a reader or a fan since the first one back in 2014. Scares That Care is a more ‘traditional’ sort of convention, but only in the sense that it’s fan oriented. In every other sense, it’s a cut above.

The event is run by a really awesome charity of the same name that does so much good for people suffering from awful diseases or were victims of tragic events like fires. The fact that the proceeds go to help people who truly need it is wonderful and definitely makes attending an even more positive experience. Joe Ripple is a truly inspiring person and a generous guy indeed.

Much like my Necon visit, my single day at Scares That Care was far, far too short. Again, if I didn’t mention you or our conversation, I’m sorry! There was simply too much awesome for one post to contain! Here are a few highlights:

Ignore my sweaty red faced-ness. I do not tolerate heat well.

First… not chronologically but because I am still reeling… Joe R. Lansdale, (yes THAT Joe R. Lansdale!) bought a copy of The Terminal and asked me to personalize it to him and his lovely and (also very talented) wife, Karen. I have been a fan of Mr. Lansdale since I read his short, Mad Dog Summer, in the same anthology that introduced me to Rick Hautala. Photographic evidence to the left!

I attended a reading by Yvonne Navarro ( aka The Vampire Queen) and Kelli Owen (Buttercup of Doom) that was really excellent. Kelli read from my favorite of her stories, Wilted Lilies and it was great to watch her read such a deep, interesting, tragic character’s tale. Yvonne read a very unsettling story about a blood sucking tax collector. Ewe!

Brian Keene gave me a copy of one of his books that I didn’t even know existed, which is pretty impressive, as he’s my favorite author and I collect his work. That was pretty amazing!

I attended a reading by Robert Ford (and he didn’t make my cry this time!) and Tom Monteleone, whom I’ve written about before. Bob read from his new release, The Last Firefly of Summer and Tom read one of his nonfiction pieces from The Mothers and Fathers Italian Association. Both readings were great, as both readers are among the best in the business.

Jacob Haddon, of Apokrupha, was kind enough to share some table space with me, enabling me to sell a whole bunch of copies of The Terminal, which is excellent! His lovely wife, Leah, was a fun table companion. I also got to chat with my friend, John Boden, and buy a copy of his new release, Jedi Summer.

Tom Monteleone, whom I referenced above, signed a copy of the newest Borderlands anthology to me with the following inscription:

8 year old me would be speechless!

Not one, but two separate people, on two completely separate occasions, referred to me as “Progeny of Jesus (JF) Gonzalez”. Which… I can’t put into words the feeling that evoked. I adore JF’s work. His writing is extremely influential on my own. Not to mention the fact that he helped me out tremendously when I was just getting started, with advice, friendship, and even an interview on this very blog.

I watched the trailer for Mike Lombardo’s I’m Dreaming of a White Doomsday, which looks like it’s going to be fantastic. I absolutely love the source material: a deeply dark, depressing short story written by the director himself. I can’t wait to see the movie in its entirety!

I chatted with the lovely Mary SanGiovanni. Mary is such a great person and a dear friend. I bought a copy of her con only chapbook, Shadow Puppets, which I’ll be reading soon.

I discovered new favorite stories by two of my favorite authors: Kelli Owen’s Childhood Ghosts, featured in the Scares That Care ‘Zine, is a creepy tale with tons of Halloween flavor. Joe Lansdale’s On A Dark October is just… it’s pure Lansdale. It defies description. Sufficed to say, it’s damned good.

There was pizza, good conversation, fun, and merriment enough to last me (MAYBE!) until the next con.

Haters Gonna Hate

I got my very first computer around the same age most kids get their first bicycle (I imagine… I never actually had a bicycle). I used that computer to explore and indulge in hobbies that interested me, many of which were deemed “boyish”. In other words, I’m not exactly new to this whole “internet” thing, or the unfortunate amount of hate, vitriol, harassment, and abuse that seems to be everywhere today. It’s not a new thing. It’s not even new to me. I suffered a lot of torment before I wised up and started hiding the fact that I was a girl: I played StarCraft with the most masculine ID I could come up with to avoid harassment I’d receive if I played as my own gender. I used manly sounding tags in chat rooms and on message boards. I even got a “manly” email address. While that may have spared me SOME of the abuse I might have otherwise taken, it didn’t shield me entirely. Hell, I was once responsible for a band having to take down their entire message board due to the overwhelming amount of threats and insults lobbed at me by someone I apparently pissed off somehow. But all of that was different, all of that pales in comparison to directing hate towards something I’ve created rather than me personally.

Today I received a piece of hate mail regarding my new novella, The Terminal. Well, technically I guess it was sent last night, but I read it today. I have to admit, it hurt. I was tempted to post it here. If I’m being completely honest with you, I was tempted to post it here in it’s entirety, email address and all… and then criticize the grammar. But what would that really solve, honestly? It would draw attention to hurtful, ugly words. It would spread – maybe even condone – the vicious contents of that email. It might even help other people of a similar mindset find me. I don’t want that. I don’t want others to read, or be hurt by, the words that someone typed to me in anger.

Not everyone will like my work, be it this book or the next. Not everyone will respond to my characters, appreciate my style, or enjoy the way I construct a story. I can accept that. I do wish that maybe someone wouldn’t say awful things to me because of that. But this is a world full of freedoms, the freedom to express your opinions, even if they are cruel, hateful, and/or downright mean, and I have to accept that, too, and move on. I have to suck it up, shrug it off, and get to work on the next one. And maybe, just maybe, the sender of that email will read that one. Maybe even enjoy it.

Have you gotten hate mail? What did you do?

Haters Gonna Hate

I got my very first computer around the same age most kids get their first bicycle (I imagine… I never actually had a bicycle). I used that computer to explore and indulge in hobbies that interested me, many of which were deemed “boyish”. In other words, I’m not exactly new to this whole “internet” thing, or the unfortunate amount of hate, vitriol, harassment, and abuse that seems to be everywhere today. It’s not a new thing. It’s not even new to me. I suffered a lot of torment before I wised up and started hiding the fact that I was a girl: I played StarCraft with the most masculine ID I could come up with to avoid harassment I’d receive if I played as my own gender. I used manly sounding tags in chat rooms and on message boards. I even got a “manly” email address. While that may have spared me SOME of the abuse I might have otherwise taken, it didn’t shield me entirely. Hell, I was once responsible for a band having to take down their entire message board due to the overwhelming amount of threats and insults lobbed at me by someone I apparently pissed off somehow. But all of that was different, all of that pales in comparison to directing hate towards something I’ve created rather than me personally.

Today I received a piece of hate mail regarding my new novella, The Terminal. Well, technically I guess it was sent last night, but I read it today. I have to admit, it hurt. I was tempted to post it here. If I’m being completely honest with you, I was tempted to post it here in it’s entirety, email address and all… and then criticize the grammar. But what would that really solve, honestly? It would draw attention to hurtful, ugly words. It would spread – maybe even condone – the vicious contents of that email. It might even help other people of a similar mindset find me. I don’t want that. I don’t want others to read, or be hurt by, the words that someone typed to me in anger.

Not everyone will like my work, be it this book or the next. Not everyone will respond to my characters, appreciate my style, or enjoy the way I construct a story. I can accept that. I do wish that maybe someone wouldn’t say awful things to me because of that. But this is a world full of freedoms, the freedom to express your opinions, even if they are cruel, hateful, and/or downright mean, and I have to accept that, too, and move on. I have to suck it up, shrug it off, and get to work on the next one. And maybe, just maybe, the sender of that email will read that one. Maybe even enjoy it.

Have you gotten hate mail? What did you do?

Gotham-more Girls! Overdue flash fiction challenge from Chuck Wendig

So back in February, Chuck Wendig had a pop culture flash fiction challenge on his blog. Apparently, I completed an entry and it somehow wound up in my slush folder, ignored until I was cleaning out said folder. I found the entry and, rather than letting it go to waste, I decided to post it here for all of you to enjoy!

I proudly present a mashup between Batman and Gilmore Girls as created by a hilariously lucky random dice roll: Gotham-more Girls!

“Did you get enchiladas?” Lorelei asked, digging into the bag Rory brought home from Al’s Pancake World, a Star’s Hollow staple.

“Nope.” Rory replied, dumping some Kraft marshmallows into a mixing bowl that already contained honey roasted peanuts, M&Ms, Twizzlers and Oreo cookies, “It was Indian night at Al’s. You want the Saag Paneer or the Butter Chicken?” Lorelei frowned, flopping onto the couch and leaving the greasy, odd smelling take out bag where it was.

“Why don’t we ever order pizza on movie night anymore?” she asked, “Do we never learn from our past mistakes?”

“Sadly, we are doomed to repeat them.” Rory sat down next to her mother, grabbed the remote, and stuck a Twizzler capped with marshmallows into her mouth.

The screen flickered to life, an image of a pretty blonde newscaster spoke mutely for a second before the sound kicked in,

“…the Caped Crusader managed to thwart the attempted robbery.”

“Boring!” Lorelei grabbed for the remote, but Rory held it out of her reach.

“Hey, I want to watch this!” she chirped.

“Ok, Jimmy Olsen. Since when do you care about the Batman?”

“Since he’s news! And anyway, Jimmy Olsen is Superman.”

Rory turned up the volume as an image of Batman overtook the screen. His cape swept back from his shoulders as he pursued a masked criminal over rooftops, finally apprehending him beneath the spotlights of police helicopters. The perpetrator dangled from Batman’s outstretched arm, attired in an incredibly cliched outfit: A black ski mask, black sweater, and black pants.

“Geez, who does that guy’s wardrobe, Fairuza Balk?”

“Nothing wrong with a classic ensemble.” Rory retorted, “Black does go with everything.”

“Even that set of fancy bracelets, apparently.” Lorelei quipped as the police arrived on the scene to make the arrest, cuffing their prisoner and leading him away.

The newscaster reappeared on screen and began discussing Batman’s latest capers.

“Seriously,” Lorelei made a face as she chewed a handful of slightly stale marshmallows, “David Bowie is waiting, and that man does NOT seem like the patient type.”

Rory rolled her eyes. “We can watch Labyrinth any time! This is news!”

“This is movie night. Hit the record button on the DVR and watch it on your own time!” Lorelei argued, folding her arms and pouting.

“If I do that, it will, by definition, no longer be news by the time I watch it.” Rory dug into a somewhat questionable looking pile of Saag Paneer in a styrofoam takeout container, grimaced, and closed the lid.

“Is it too late to order pizza?” she asked, reaching for the phone.

“It’s never too late for pizza!”

Gotham-more Girls! Overdue flash fiction challenge from Chuck Wendig

So back in February, Chuck Wendig had a pop culture flash fiction challenge on his blog. Apparently, I completed an entry and it somehow wound up in my slush folder, ignored until I was cleaning out said folder. I found the entry and, rather than letting it go to waste, I decided to post it here for all of you to enjoy!

I proudly present a mashup between Batman and Gilmore Girls as created by a hilariously lucky random dice roll: Gotham-more Girls!

“Did you get enchiladas?” Lorelei asked, digging into the bag Rory brought home from Al’s Pancake World, a Star’s Hollow staple.

“Nope.” Rory replied, dumping some Kraft marshmallows into a mixing bowl that already contained honey roasted peanuts, M&Ms, Twizzlers and Oreo cookies, “It was Indian night at Al’s. You want the Saag Paneer or the Butter Chicken?” Lorelei frowned, flopping onto the couch and leaving the greasy, odd smelling take out bag where it was.

“Why don’t we ever order pizza on movie night anymore?” she asked, “Do we never learn from our past mistakes?”

“Sadly, we are doomed to repeat them.” Rory sat down next to her mother, grabbed the remote, and stuck a Twizzler capped with marshmallows into her mouth.

The screen flickered to life, an image of a pretty blonde newscaster spoke mutely for a second before the sound kicked in,

“…the Caped Crusader managed to thwart the attempted robbery.”

“Boring!” Lorelei grabbed for the remote, but Rory held it out of her reach.

“Hey, I want to watch this!” she chirped.

“Ok, Jimmy Olsen. Since when do you care about the Batman?”

“Since he’s news! And anyway, Jimmy Olsen is Superman.”

Rory turned up the volume as an image of Batman overtook the screen. His cape swept back from his shoulders as he pursued a masked criminal over rooftops, finally apprehending him beneath the spotlights of police helicopters. The perpetrator dangled from Batman’s outstretched arm, attired in an incredibly cliched outfit: A black ski mask, black sweater, and black pants.

“Geez, who does that guy’s wardrobe, Fairuza Balk?”

“Nothing wrong with a classic ensemble.” Rory retorted, “Black does go with everything.”

“Even that set of fancy bracelets, apparently.” Lorelei quipped as the police arrived on the scene to make the arrest, cuffing their prisoner and leading him away.

The newscaster reappeared on screen and began discussing Batman’s latest capers.

“Seriously,” Lorelei made a face as she chewed a handful of slightly stale marshmallows, “David Bowie is waiting, and that man does NOT seem like the patient type.”

Rory rolled her eyes. “We can watch Labyrinth any time! This is news!”

“This is movie night. Hit the record button on the DVR and watch it on your own time!” Lorelei argued, folding her arms and pouting.

“If I do that, it will, by definition, no longer be news by the time I watch it.” Rory dug into a somewhat questionable looking pile of Saag Paneer in a styrofoam takeout container, grimaced, and closed the lid.

“Is it too late to order pizza?” she asked, reaching for the phone.

“It’s never too late for pizza!”

Growing Pains

I haven’t been doing this whole writer thing for very long. While I’ve been lucky enough to enjoy a small degree of success (including my first major sale last year), I have also unfortunately learned a few things the hard way.

In a sort of round about way, this post is a tale solidifying my stance on working for free/working for “exposure.”

Let’s start at the beginning. A few years ago, not long after the whole Tony G debacle I linked to at the start of this blog post, I was contacted by an editor. This editor, who shall remain nameless, treated me well and asked me to write a story for an anthology of hers, a pet project that she was hoping desperately to fill, but struggling. She’d read and liked my work and approached me about submitting. Payment for participation in the anthology would be… well, there would be no payment. Not even a contributor’s copy. But at that point in time, I was OK with that. After all, I reasoned, her anthos did well and got noticed. If I were to contribute to one, I’d be noticed, too. Getting my name out there and having another book to add to my bibliography would be a good thing, even if I didn’t make any money off the story. So I wrote.

Or, better put, I tried to write. You see, the topic of the anthology wasn’t something I was used to writing about. In fact, it would be my first ever published work that had nothing at all to do with zombies. But the editor had approached me. She believed I could do this, so I took some strength from her faith in me and my abilities (though I was probably giving that faith a bit more credit than what was truly due) and I resolved that I WOULD WRITE SOMETHING to contribute to this anthology.

At first, it was slow going. I kept wanting to write about the undead, and in fact, I took several breaks to complete zombie stories while working on the antho project. Eventually, inspiration struck and I finally managed to come up with an angle, and from there, the story evolved. Like happens so rarely to us writers, it just flowed out of me, a near perfect first draft in a single sitting.

Now, let me just say that I absolutely love the story that resulted. While I do love the fact that I stretched myself beyond my previous limits and got out of my comfort zone to write something entirely new, I do really love the story itself. It might even be my favorite short story I’ve written (although I have received a lot of criticism, including that it’s too “quiet” or too confusing) and I’ve read it at a few conventions I’ve attended.

I sent off the completed story to the editor and was pleased (though not surprised) when it was accepted. But the anthology was still struggling. Too few stories. It might not happen became it probably won’t happen. This made me very sad, as I dearly loved that story and wanted it to see the light of day. With the editor’s permission, I shopped it around to any and every market that it might fit. That story earned me more rejections (in large part because it was submitted more) than anything else I’ve written… But I didn’t want to give up on it, so I kept my chin up and kept submitting.

During this arduous process, my mentality began to shift on the whole subject of payment and “exposure”.

Kelli Owen (who you should most definitely be reading) penned a fabulous blog post on the topic of what aspiring writers need to know. I’ve linked the post in its entirety above, but this is the piece most relevant to the situation:

“1. RULE NUMBER ONE. This one is NOT a guideline. This is, without a doubt, and with Sister Hank’s ruler to back it up, a rule:
Money flows to the writer. aka, Get Paid. aka, Real Money. I don’t care
if you want to forgo guideline #3 and only get $5.00, get something.
Anything. Seriously. Because if they have to pay you, they tend to give
a crap about where their money is going. I have tried to beat this into
the thick skulls of several newer writers who refuse to listen in the
light of the vile word “exposure” and in the miasma of excitement that
comes with the idea of being published. After the recent whirlwind, a
couple are suddenly listening. Mandy took an “ouch” to learn and another
received a very nasty phone call where Bob and I channeled everyone
above us on the ladder who had yelled at us about the exact same thing
once upon a time. Get Paid. Non-negotiable.


If you’re not willing to go to your dayjob and tell them at the end
of the day, “no no, don’t pay me. knowing you appreciate me (read as
“exposure”) is enough” don’t do it with your writing. It took time and
effort, skill, thought, sweat and, if you did it right, blood to do… why
the HELL would you just hand that away for nothing? WHY?! So don’t. And
here’s your one warning… If I know you saw this blog entry and I ever, and I do mean ever, hear you bitching about a publication or even excited about one that didn’t pay you,
I will come down on your head like the wrath of gods that have been
dead for so long their pent up anger makes Coop look like the Dalai
Lama. Kapeesh? Paid. Period. The End.
” 

The contributors to this (and other) anthologies were giving their stories – completely free – to these editors and publishers, who were turning around and selling the books they produced for money. Suddenly that seemed, well, really unfair. Someone was profiting from my hard work and creativity. Someone, who was not me, was making money off of my words. For lack of a better term, that was bullshit. I stopped submitting to nonpaying markets. I have contributed to a few charity anthologies since then, but donating your work to a good cause is a LOT different than donating your work so someone else gets paid. At least in my opinion.

Somewhere around the 36th rejection, the original editor contacted me again. Surprise! The anthology was a go! Had I found a different home for my story yet? I replied that I had not and received a contract the next day, with the same (non payment) terms as the original. As I had previously agreed, and actually written the story for this very anthology, I signed it.

There was a lot of weirdness involved, both with the editor and the publisher, but eventually it went to print and I bought a few copies of the book (which now appears to be out of print and available as an ebook only). This was about 2 ½ years ago or so. There wasn’t a lot of fanfare around this particular anthology and I
would be shocked if it has sold more than a dozen copies/downloads in all that time.

Yesterday, I happened upon a new market listing… Not only were the guidelines FAR more in line with my story than the original anthology it was published in, but this market actually paid. I was really excited until I got to the last sentence:

ABSOLUTELY NO REPRINTS!

My heart sunk. This market would have been SO perfect for the story I so dearly love, the story I wasn’t paid for that was probably not seen by more than a handful of people, and yet I could do nothing about it because I had given it away for free. Ouch.

 There’s a lesson here somewhere, but rather than trying to wax poetic, I’ll just say this: Know your worth. Even if you’re just starting out, your time and effort are worth money. Exposure usually isn’t worth anything, with very rare exceptions. In other words, if you want to make money off of my writing, pay me for it.