Monthly Archives: January 2014

@Joe_Hill Interview #horror

No, I didn’t interview him, but I stumbled across one he did about his new book NOS4A2. I’m almost done listening to it on Audible and it is excellent. Kate Mulgrew took a little getting used to, but now I’m digging her voice as well (it kind of has a mommy-authoritarian going on).

Darkness suits Joe Hill, but he does his best to avoid the long shadow of his father, Stephen King. Born Joseph Hillstrom King, the 40-year-old author uses a pen name to ensure that he’s read based on literary merit, not genealogy. From his 2007 debut novel Heart-Shaped Box to his Locke & Key comics, he’s carved out his own brand of chilling (and heartwarming) storytelling. In his new novel, NOS4A2, Hill’s exploration of vampirism is proof that he’s a king of the macabre in his own right.

Read the rest here

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How to improve your #socialmedia efforts in 10 minutes | Articles | Main

Each of these four actions requires about 10 minutes of your time and could lead to major returns. Do them today.

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Butt Poem

Okay, I have been searching for this poem off and on for years. I heard it back when I was in college in a writing class. I don’t remember the author’s name or the name of the poem (you can imagine the search results after typing ‘butt’ and ‘poem’).

But is anyone familiar with this poem? I think the first line was something like, ‘I’m stuck in a butt,’.

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Running Start

I’m standing in line at Subway and I’ve just heard for maybe the billionth time someone begin a sentence with a ‘starter’ phrase. You know what I mean: the stuff you say before the stuff you want to say? I’m guilty of it myself—at least I have been.  As I become aware of when I do it, I try to make a conscious effort to stop.

For instance, when making an important business call, I used to begin with, “Ah, yes—” but once I heard myself doing it, I wondered why I was and then began thinking about it before the person who would eventually be on the other end picked up.

That’s where I hear it for the most part: people on the phone.  How do so many have this same learned behavior?  I certainly wasn’t taught to say these phrases in these situations and doubt anyone else was.

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@OldSpice, Meet Your New Mascot @dougandgator971

Forgive the untimeliness of it, but I don’t think the skip has his dance card full yet.

Yes, that is former Tiger’s manager, Jim Leland

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You’re Here Now, So What’s Next?

Whether you’ve found this site by chance, clicked on a link from Twitter or Facebook, or downloaded a free copy of 30 Minute Plan, you’ve made it. I’m guessing your likes are walks on the beach, people who like to smile, and horror. But wait, before you just go why not take a look at what else I have?

Like the equally free The Beggar’s Bowl? I know, I know, that cover is awful. I’ll probably do another when I get time, but there’s a lot more to be read! Like Fleshbags or Where the Monsters Are, my Halloween book of shorts The Best Night of the YearThere’s just so many to choose from and considering most are only $0.99 you don’t have to pick just one.

Check out my booklist.

Or my UK booklist.

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Taking a #break #amwriting

I’m writing my YA novel as if this is the very first book I’ve ever written. I suppose, in a way, that’s true, although I don’t want to be disingenuous to The Ghost Toucher. But because it was my first novel and there’s so much about it that’s all over the place, I’m coming up against things now that I didn’t experience then. I taught myself how to plot and wound up with a storyline that went in several directions at once.

Oh, wait, I just gave you the inside scoop. Yes, I’m writing a YA novel.

But I started by giving myself a skeleton to work from. I even stole it from another author. It was immensely helpful even though I’ve severely deviated from it in spots. But what I’ve found with my aggressive writing schedule that I sometimes just don’t feel like writing. I had plenty enough time over this weekend, but I wrote a total of 1,135 words between Friday and Monday. But that’s actually okay, I think.

This book started as a NaNoWriMo project in November. After writing about 10,000 words that month, I decided to continue the project and in addition to setting writing goals, I created a writing schedule to set which days I write. 1,293 words per day is a lofty goal, so I’m not disappointed I miss it on a daily basis, but as you can see below, I didn’t come close to hitting those numbers over the weekend.

And that’s okay. The intention is to finish my WIP by mid-month February and then work on redrafting. The idea is to set a day for when you want to be done and work backward. Figure out a total estimated word count, give yourself about two week buffer and figure out how many words you need to write per day to hit your total. Use that buffer to give yourself some days off!


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Trailer for 2nd Half of Season 4 of #TheWalkingDead #amc

Can’t wait until the walkers are moaning at your door? Try The Butterman Cometh. Only $0.99.

A new teaser trailer for The Walking Dead has been revealed – scroll down and click to watch.

The 31-second-clip focuses on Andrew Lincoln’s character Rick Grimes, as he tries to build morale among his fellow survivors following a confrontation with David Morrissey’s The Governor. The zombie show is set to return from its mid-season break in the US on February 9.

It was revealed in October last year that The Walking Dead had been renewed for a fifth season. It is currently the most-watched show in America among adults aged 18-49 and the premiere episode of season four drew a best ever audience of 16 million viewers.

Check out Fleshbags, the ‘Sickest. Zombies. Ever’ according to

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I Only Have Eyes for You #amreading #horror #iartg

Download a copy of Where the Monsters Are. Only $0.99! It’s been getting some great reviews!

            I must be dead.  I can’t feel a thing, but there’s this music echoing far off in the distance.  I feel completely at rest until I feel a soft fingertip begin to stroke my forehead between my eyebrows.

            Slowly, my eyes open and look into the most angelic face I have ever seen.  A beautiful brown-skinned woman faces me, completely naked at least from the waist up, her hair like sunshine.  Her eyes are closed, but the way she’s smiling, I wanna get up and kiss her or something, but I’m just completely numb with comfort, resting my head in her lap.

I think I remember what happened.  Me and a couple buddies rented a boat and went fishing on the lake.  We didn’t catch any fish, but we sure got hammered.  So hammered, we got lost.  We tried finding our way back to the shore when that storm came out of nowhere, swallowing the daylight in angry, dark clouds.  Ted and whatever wasn’t tied down got washed away in the first huge wave that hit us.  Chris got pitched right off the side, staring at the suddenly blanketed sky, when a huge wave rose abruptly beneath us and threw him off the deck.  Al was still holding onto the steering wheel when we hit a wave so big it almost stood the boat on its stern, the bow pointing into the sky.  He dangled by the wheel and I was hanging onto a sail, arms and legs wrapped tightly around the pole.  We hung there in slow motion and I thought we were going to tip all the way over and land upside down.  But we rode the wave out and slammed hard right side up.  I woke up flat on my back, seeing stars and coughing up water and trying to get my breath back.  My vision cleared and I sat up looking over to where Al used to be.  As I got my footing, I turned and looked around.  The rain was coming down in sheets so thick I never saw the boat heading towards the rocks.

Then I woke up here with her.  The longer I lay here in her arms, the more distant all that seems, my memories of everything fading away with each stroke of her hand.  The expression on her face is saying, “You’re here with me now. Be safe.”

She blows something off her fingertip and begins to stroke my left leg.  A single hair catches in my right eyelash and without opening her eyes she deftly plucks it out with her free hand.  Something doesn’t feel right as she strokes my leg.  I try to sit up to see if it’s broken, but she gently eases me back down, not saying a word, but telling me to relax.

I rest my head in her lap again and look at that beautiful smiling face and I don’t care about my leg anymore.  The discomfort goes away and she eventually moves to my arm, running her fingers up and down.  I reach up to touch her face and see my arm has become translucent.  I can see the powder blue sky through it, and the ghost of the bones and veins underneath.

Panicked, I open my mouth to scream, to speak, to something, but as soon as I think it, her hand is holding mine, taking hold of my fear.  I look at her face and it simply tells me, “No,” as it radiates love and affection that resonates all through me and I relax again.  The music in my head returns, and she begins stroking my arm again.  I’m falling in love with her, I realize, as I drowse without closing my eyes and fall asleep desperately wanting to look into hers.

I don’t recall opening my eyes.  I’m briefly aware she has been rubbing my chest, the after-sensation of her hands touching me, still lingering.  She cuddles me like a baby, rubbing my neck and running her fingers through my hair.  I feel like I’m still wrapped in a wonderful dream as her hands rapidly go over my face and head.  She lovingly traces every crevice, the corners of my eyes, my laugh lines, the little divit under my nose, over and over again.

I want so badly to touch her face and as I realize I can’t, I understand what has happened.  I don’t need to touch her face anymore.  She holds all that is left of me in her hands and somehow… somehow I still see.  And I know.  I feel myself coursing through her veins, as much a part of her as she is to herself, but still separate.  She holds me away from her, waiting for my answer and I say, “Yes,” with all of me that is left.  She opens her eyes and there are only empty sockets.  She closes her hands over me and when she opens her eyes again, she sees through me.  Instantly, the barriers of where I end and she begins, disappear and we meld into one.  We look down to where I was lying and there are only the tattered rags left of what was my clothing.  We look a moment, not in mourning, but simple curiosity and then use our tail to push back towards the rising tide and back into the ocean.  Our gills open and begin to breathe as we swim away.


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I Only Have Eyes for You #amreading #horror #iartg

I just stumbled across a story I wrote 10+ years ago. I may have written it back in the 90s, I’m unsure, though. But if you stop by tomorrow at 7:30 you can read I Only Have Eyes for You. It’s the only horror story I’ve ever written with a mermaid in it.

Download a copy of Where the Monsters Are. Only $0.99! It’s been getting some great reviews!

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