Tag: horror literature

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I’ll have a story in it!! My story Like Furies will appear in The Best Horror of the Year, Volume 17, edited by Ellen Datlow!

Every year I look forward to this volume. It’s more than an anthology—it’s a State of the Genre address. I hoped someday to get a mention in it. I am honored to the core to be part of the actual table of contents!

Ellen’s approach to compiling this book is a demonstration of the strength of this horror community. It’d be easy to fill the anthology entirely with known names—and there are plenty of them, including authors from whom I have multiple books on my shelves—but that’s not what Ellen does. She routinely selects several authors she hasn’t published previously (like me). This willingness to find and support authors and artists not already established in the horror world is one of the reasons the entire horror genre is currently experiencing a Golden Age. It’s not a closed club. It truly is a community open to new voices as well as supporting the leaders of the genre and honoring its founders.

Thank you, Jeani Rector, for first publishing this story in The Horror Zine—and not just for publishing it but also for taking the time to work with me to make it better. You know it’s a good edit when you see the suggestion and think “Why didn’t I notice that?” Her advice and know-how made this story so much stronger!

Thank you JG Faherty, my Horror Writers Association mentor. I signed up for the mentorship program with three goals: qualitative, quantitative and aspirational. JG helped me reach all three—and he continues to mentor me. He also read and commented on Like Furies and, as always, his suggestions were spot-on. After the first draft, before I let anyone else read it, I went through it and thought to myself, What will JG say about this?” And I made some deep changes to the story right there. That was part of meeting goal 1: helping me learn to edit and analyze specifically my horror writing with confidence.

Goal 2, quantitative: I made a professional sale to James Aquilone with a story appearing in the Stoker-nominated anthology Shakespeare Unleashed.

This was my aspirational goal—to write something Ellen Datlow wanted to see.

I’ll be pre-ordering 10 copies… or more… I hope you’ll get one too! Tell your bookstore to stock it when it’s available. And don’t worry, I’ll remind you!

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I’ve got a story in The Horror Zine Magazine! The Horror Zine has plenty of street cred in the horror world. It’s got longevity and quality on its side, and editor Jeani Rector is well known for her contributions to the community, including encouraging new horror writers.

I’m continually enchanted by the idea of the veil between the worlds stretching, growing thin, allowing crossover from one world to the next. It’s the essence of fairy stories. For me, it’s part of what moves me to awe in the natural world. And it’s often something I weave into stories.

The idea for Like Furies came while I was waiting for my husband’s trio gig to start in Centralia, Illinois. They play in a courtyard between two older brick buildings. I was restless, and was walking around this block, then that one. We were on the edge of town, near railroad tracks. Within the same two block square, there was an abandoned building with tall grass and vine in the alley like a jungle, and also store fronts, a bank, park benches along the sidewalk, and a couple traffic lights. As I wandered around, I noticed a few feathers on the sidewalk. I almost always pick up feathers. A few feet further, more feathers, different kind, in good shape. As I walked, I picked up half a dozen nice feathers, and left quite a few on the sidewalk that were in poor shape, or clumped together as if torn out in a bunch.

And that got me thinking: Why are there so many feathers? A resident peregrine? Some larger cities have them to control the pigeon population. What if it was something else? Something sinister? That, in the way of small towns everywhere, no one would talk about? What if that person watching me pick up a feather didn’t think I was merely weird, but that I was breaking tabu?

I scribbled a few notes, and began writing the story the next day.

I thought about having someone send Tori to Black Creek as vengeance for an imagined slight. But as I wrote her character, it became clear she wouldn’t fall for that. She wouldn’t be a victim— she’d be more susceptible to grief. But not over a man.

Though I didn’t describe what she looks like in the story, I have a clear picture of her in my mind.

That’s the way it works for me. Sometimes characters are fully formed in my mind and they tell me what to do, being rather bossy about it. Other times, I have to tease it out. And sometimes I only know what they are all about until I’ve gotten it wrong a few times.

The story’s ending was a bit of a surprise for me. I had it in my mind up until Tori’s encounter with the source of the feathers in town. The rest was spontaneous. I love when that happens.

Print copy, with that outstanding cover art, here.

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It shouldn’t be so fun to read about a vengeful spouse stalking her family from beyond the grave. But it is. A ghost seeks revenge, zombie curse, whodunit all rolled into one novella. I’ve called JG Faherty the Master of the Mashup before this, and it’s an appropriate title. Don’t ever think one of his books will be simple and straightforward—there’s always a surprise. Death Do Us Part is a fun read. For true terror, turn to his latest three novels.

That’s a flight of semi-dry wines from Von Jakob Winery & Brewery, and that beautiful vista is from their large back deck.

The Last Werewolf by Glen Duncan is the first book of a trilogy—which I didn’t know when I nabbed this one from the local Barnes & Noble. Glad to see it, though, because of course I want to know what happens next! I’ve seen this one compared to Anne Rice’s Interview with the Vampire and I get that. The Last Werewolf  takes a philosophical approach, as we understand that we are reading Jake Marlowe’s journal and following along as he faces the extinction of his species at the hands of The Hunt—and what that means for him personally. Wait till you meet Talulla and Cloquet! These two breathe a new vitality into the story, as they are meant to. Nothing in this book is a mistake, read it closely. Don’t worry, you’ll love it.

When I could tear my eyes away from that beautiful Pope County scenery at Shotgun Eddys, and when I wasn’t listening to my beloved, favorite singer-songwriter Tim Crosby, I was knocking back a couple of Stags and reading about Marlowe’s wild world. A good combination.

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