Maggie Slater

Oh my gosh, it’s been great a week. I find I have such a ravenous burst of creative energy towards the end of August, just in anticipation of September, that when I finally get time to sit down and focus on work, I can dive-in whole heartedly. That’s been the case for the past two weeks, even as I’m still adjusting to the new schedule (and trying to keep myself from letting any other appointments creep in beyond one designated day a week).

As of right now, I try to get into my little rented space (which I adore so much) from 8:45-11:00 AM. Early last week, I was so thrilled just to physically be there after the desert of summer that I tried to work THE WHOLE TIME Thing 2 was in school, but that’s honestly too long for my brain. I need to build up those creative muscles. Two hours is more than enough for me, and I still get a good chunk of work done.

As for schedule, I typically drop Thing 2 off at preschool and then head over to the cafe around the corner for a honey and cinnamon latte. It’s been so long since I had enough expendable time to indulge in any kind of pre-writing ritual, that latte has become “my thing.” A little treat I associate with getting words on the page.

After grabbing coffee, I head to my office. It’s a small, one room space in an old 1800s house, so when you walk in the door, it smells like wicker and sawdust and spice, and I adore it. It smells like creativity and building things. It reminds me of the art studio I used to attend in Worcester.

My office is upstairs, so I tromp up with my cup in one hand and my heavy “writing bag” dragging on the elbow of the other. I keep two bags–one for day-to-day use and one for purely storing and carrying the writing gear I need on a daily basis. It forces me to get streamlined on what equipment and texts and printouts I need.

The only other ritual(s) I have are these: I take my shoes off when I get into the office space and I usually keep the lights off. Weird, right? There’s something about bare feet and natural light, even really dim natural light, since my office has small windows and sits in a somewhat un-illuminated corner of the building, that just makes me feel free to create.

I unload my hashbook–a spiral or composition notebook, usually dirt cheap, sometimes those fanciful Decomposition notebooks because they’re so freaking cute–in which I do my half-assed attempt at three pages, single-sided, with a stupidly bright Sharpie fine-tip or a Paper Mate felt-tip. When I’m being thoughtful and intentional, my pages tend to mix Julie Cameron’s “morning pages” with Natalie Goldberg’s “writing down the bones,” but more often I just rambling about whatever is taking up space in my head for a page or so.

I’m a big fan of Matt Bell’s REFUSE TO BE DONE: one of the things I’m doing on this draft is retyping it from scratch from scene one to scene whatever-the-last-scene-is. I find this method helps so much in honing the language, helping me to focus on weaving important info in that I may have missed the first time while preserving a natural flow of logic, and I think it also helps tighten up continuity issues, too.

So I work on that for about two hours until my brain is starting to spark and spit, and then I head home. I’ll go for a walk with the dog, get some lunch, catch up on submissions for BCS, and if I’m feeling really ambitious, I might unload the dishwasher. Then it’s off to get Thing 2 from school, and the afternoon is household chores (when I bother) and reading (if I can–it’s tricky with wee ones around, sometimes it works when they play well together, and sometimes, they’re just having a day), or writing up a much-belated blog post! I do that four days a week, and then I take Friday off because Thing 2 doesn’t have school, so that’s my planner/food plan/extra chores day to try to get caught up for the weekend.

I try very hard to keep the weekend as just free, fun time with the family, and that’s pretty much how this week has been going.

Andy and I watched MEMORIES OF MURDER, which was very good, though it’s hard not to automatically compare it to Bong Joon Ho’s PARASITE. Still, it was spooky and eerie and quite a ride, and Andy stayed awake for the whole thing! Who needs more endorsement than that?!

Plus, I’m only 300 pages from the end of A SUITABLE BOY, which I’ve been loving the heck out of. There is just no better book to snuggle up with at the end of a long day, just to LIVE in. Sometime I’ll write a post about why massive tomes like ASB are so freaking great. My “putting the boys to bed” reading is currently THE INVISIBLE HOTEL by Yeji Y. Ham, which I’m very much enjoying so far.

I did DNF a book this week (GOSH I HATE THAT): GRIM ROOT by Bonnie Jo Stufflebaum. I was so very much looking forward to it, and it had some really fantastic buzz on Instagram that I was absolutely ON BOARD for, so I don’t know if it’s just the wrong time for me to read it or if I came in with too-high expectations or what, but after 50 pages, I found I just couldn’t get into it. Very frustrating, because Reality TV and Shirley Jackson’s HILL HOUSE are absolutely MY THING, and I love the idea of blending the two.

Maybe it was too many characters right off the bat, or that slightly frustrating author tendency to hint-at but not get specific about each one’s “dark past” (you can kind of feel the authorial carrot: This secret is going to be so cool, but nope! You don’t get to find out yet!). Maybe I just struggled to really inhabit the characters, but–ARG. I really wanted to love it! Still, if I haven’t started desperately caring about what happens after 50 pages, I gotta let it go. I’m not a super impatient reader, either. I like a slow burn!

But there are just too many other books I really want to read. I hate DNF’ing books, so if you’ve read and liked GRIM ROOT, I’d love to hear your perspective and what drew you into it, because I want to like it, and though there’s certainly truth in the idea that not every book is for every reader, if someone tells me it really picks up after the first 100 pages, I will probably try again.

Until next week!

It was cold this morning when I dragged myself out of bed just after six. Cold, and much darker than it has been during the summer at this time. Autumn is coming, and with it, the school year.

Today, Thing 2 started school. Thing 1 started last Thursday. All summer long, I’ve been picking away at writing, daydreaming about longer available hours, wondering when I’ll get time to work on anything again, and now that it’s finally come: I’m sad. I’m always a little sad when the boys go back to school and the lazy summer hours are over. It’s nice having them around (though if I had a “mute” button sometimes, that’d be really helpful, thanks).

As I was driving back to the office, I thought about deep-sea jellyfish. That’s kind of what I feel like: a deep-sea jelly brought swiftly up into far less pressurized water, on the verge of dissolving into diaphanous goo. It’s a strange feeling, and one I’ll have to get used to. Thing 2 is in school for a lot more time than he was last year, and I’m doing my darnedest to make sure I preserve and protect my writing time and not let all the other bits and debris of life sweep into those holy hours. It’s easier said than done.

I’m only just beginning to get a grasp on what I’m going to work on moving forward. I’ve got the third draft of Dirty Bone to put through its paces, and it’s always a bit of an uphill battle to reorient myself after a long break. In the future, I think I’ll try to plan summer break as my ultimate time-off, with no expectations and no attempts to work on anything: a built-in rest period for work. It’s easier than beating myself up for not getting anything done, and then feeling guilty for resting and enjoying my time otherwise.

I’ve been reading a lot, and watching a bunch of movies, and I anticipate I’ll have some favorites to share here soon. In the meantime, I’m almost done with my morning time, so I’m going to read and relax for a bit before heading out to pick up Thing 2 from his first day. I hope he enjoyed it as much as I’ve enjoyed this oasis of silence.

We’ve got a treat today! I recently read Richard Beauchamp’s new short story collection, Horror in the Highlands, and when I asked if he might stop by and answer some questions about it here, he said yes! If you’re familiar with this blog, you’ll have also checked out Richard’s previous interview years ago about his short story in Negative Space: An Anthology of Survival Horror from Dark Peninsula Press.

Here’s my brief review of Horror in the Highlands:

Have you ever wandered deep into the woods and wondered if maybe you’d crossed into a place beyond reality? Have you heard trees whisper in the dark; heard a brook laugh at your insignificance in the grand scheme of the universe? Have you ever stood on a quiet road through the woods and felt something watching you back? Then Horror in the Hills is going to be right up your alley. Richard Beauchamp has a gift for building eerie atmosphere and stomach-churning revulsion, and he uses both to weave his dark and haunting tales in this collection. My personal favorites were “The Howler,” “Old Winona,” “Dirty Thirty,” and the pairing of the starting and ending stories: “Blight at Bull’s Gap” and “Viridian,” which brings the reader back in a beautifully warped circle. What’s more, however, is that throughout these dark and mesmerizing stories, I could sense the deep love and affection that Beauchamp has for the Ozarks, for their sylvan beauty and the scabrous remnants of expired industries. This collection will leave a lovely paradox in your mind: both a desire to visit these ancient wilds, and a deep terror if you do, these eldritch spaces will never let you go.

-O-

Welcome, Richard! Thank you again for participating! I really enjoyed HORROR IN THE HIGHLANDS, and one of the things that stuck out to me in particular—amid all the eldritch horrors, of course!—was a sense of how much you love the Ozarks. Could you share a little more about your personal relationship to the area and what motivated you to set the collection here?
 
I’m so glad to hear you enjoyed the collection, Maggie. Horror In the Highlands definitely has some strong themes, among them is a definitive regional connection to the area in which they’re set, the Missouri and Arkansas Ozarks.
 
I’ve lived in southeast Missouri for most of my life, and while I’ve travelled the country and even been abroad a few times, something about the tranquility and understated beauty of the Ozark mountains has always called to me, and I feel the most centered among the hills and valleys I know so well. I am an avid outdoorsman, and one of the main ways I “recharge” and reset my internal clock often involves multiday camping trips to the places where many of these stories are set.
 
Also, I’ve found there’s a certain sense of verisimilitude when reading regional fiction writers whose work is set in their home turf. No one can write about East Texas the way Joe Lansdale can. No one can capture the subtle nuance of the Georgia wilds the way Flannery O’ Conner can. Other than Daniel Woodrell (who is a fantastic writer and one of my biggest influences) the Ozarks doesn’t have that many regional writers who’ve laid down stakes in this rocky, peach colored soil. I’m hoping to have done this often ignored region some justice.

Myths and legends play a large roll in HitH. Do you have a personal favorite myth/legend (included in the collection or not) that you find yourself drawn to over and over? What about it resonates with you particularly? 


I do. “The Howler”, a story in HiTH, is based off the one unique cryptid the Ozarks can lay claim too, the “Ozark Howler” (We also have MoMo, or the Missouri monster, but that supposedly stinky feller is basically a bigfoot offshoot).

The howler stands alone among other US cryptids in that it is an amalgamation of ram, puma, and bear, a shaggy horned beast whose clarion call differs depending on which neck of the woods you’re pokin’ around in and who you’re asking. Some say it sounds like an elk bugle mixed with the scream of a man, others say it’s more akin to a hyena cackle. Either way, the howler’s lore is rich and spans back hundreds of years, with such historical figures as Daniel Boone claiming to have encountered the beast during the wild frontier days.
 
I noticed that the first and last stories of the collection, “The Blight at Bull’s Gap” and “Veridian,” echo each other in some key ways. I’m assuming that was intentional, as bookends for the collection, but what other considerations did you have to take in choosing the order of the stories?
 
It was indeed intentional. Funny enough, “Veridian” started off as a totally different story, unconnected to “Blight At Bull’s Gap”. It’d been a trunk story for a long time, and it wasn’t until I’d written The Blight At Bull’s Gap that I saw a way to elevate “Veridian” from your run of the mill “Guy meets inbred hillbillies in the woods” tale to something deeper, in that the horror that the protagonist encounters in Veridian is directly tied to the generational curse we encounter in BaBG. 

Other considerations for order include things such as length, intensity, and pacing. For instance, I put “God In the Holler” right after Blight at Bull’s Gap, because it’s a shorter story, isn’t nearly as heavy as Blight (which almost veers into splatterpunk territory in some parts) and in general is a lighter read, even if it is tragic. I try and keep the reader guessing and keep the pacing fresh, and mimic the things I find appealing about story placement in other collections I’ve read.

I’m always curious when speaking to an author regarding a collection, and realizing it’s like asking which of your kids you like best, but do you have a favorite story, or one story that you’re particularly proud of?

If I had to narrow it down, I would say it would probably be “God In The Holler”. That story is one of my most personal, in that it was written as a coping mechanism when I found out my father had cancer. It was my first time ever being confronted with the mortality of a parent. My dad is a tough, salt of the earth man who never gets sick, never had to go the doctor, etc. He was, in my mind, invincible, so when the diagnosis came, I felt like my world had exploded. “God In The Holler” was one of the few times I ‘bled onto the page’ as the late Jack Ketchum would say, and it was my way of confronting the idea of how far someone would go to save a loved one. I wrote it in a sort of feverish fugue state, and I honestly wasn’t even planning on putting it in the collection until I revisited the story a few months later, and with my dad eventually whooping cancer’s ass and things returning somewhat to normal, I felt I could include it in the collection without it being too morbidly meta.
 
As a writer of horror, what makes a story scary in your opinion? Do you have any particular horror tropes or themes that you’re particularly drawn to? Any that you avidly avoid?
 
Hmmm, that’s a tough one. I’ll be honest, I haven’t been “scared” by reading since I was kid. But I can still feel the tension and dread of a well crafted story, and I think the way to make that tension the most impactful (to me, anyway) is by making characters I truly connect to, and then putting them in situations where I don’t know if they’ll make it out alive (looking at you, George RR Martin). Character driven fiction has always put me the most in tune with emotions such as fear, suspense and dread. I can’t really think of any specific tropes I’m drawn too, but I will say, ones I tend to avoid is rape and SA being present and vividly described when it serves no purpose to the story. I normally never include SA scenes in my fiction, and Blight at Bull’s Gap was the first time I ever included a rape scene in a story. It was a tough call having that in there given the subject matter, but I feel that, given the story’s heavy themes about generational trauma and racism, and the rape serving as a catalyst for the antagonist’s transformation, I felt it was necessary to include to really hammer home the cruel potential of man (and men specifically).
 
Everyone likes to ask, “Where do you get your ideas,” but I’m more curious in what you do after you get an idea. How do you develop that initial kernel into a full-blown story? Do you have certain things you hold in mind before you being writing?
 
So, spoiler alert, I live in a pretty rural area, and within ten minutes of my house are a vast network of country backroads I’ve driven so much I know them like the back of my hand, and can sort of slip into a trance state while driving them. Often times, when a story comes to me, it comes a bit like a slightly unearthed fossil. There’ll be a bone here, an ossified piece of mandible there, and the way I brush off the dirt and uncover the rest of the skeleton is by driving and thinking. I normally don’t listen to music or the radio when I drive, I tend to commute in silence and for some reason, the feeling of being in motion and letting my body focus on driving lets my mind untether, a sort of switch is flipped, and my imagination can drift and snatch ideas out of the ephemera of my subconscious. I can’t just sit in a chair and plot, it has to be driving (or, if weather permits, going for a walk). Sometimes, if it’s a short story idea, the whole thing might slam into me while I’m driving along those backroads, but if it’s a novel/long fiction idea, I tend to do a hybrid of pantsing and plotting.
 
I can never stick to an outline if it’s a longer story because the story changes as the characters are fleshed out, and I’ve frustrated myself over and over again trying to adhere to a rigid outline, so what I tend to do is figure out a general direction my story is going, try and outline three or four chapters ahead, let my character’s motivation’s see me through those chapters, and then do my little driving trick to figure out where things will go next. It’s not the most efficient way to write stories, but it works for me!
 
Outside of writing, do you have any passion hobbies you enjoy engaging with? How do they impact your writing, if at all?
 
So, as I mentioned before, I am an avid outdoorsman. I like to hunt, fish, camp, and hike, and I feel like my connection to the natural world around me definitely informs and influences my writing, as many of my stories take place in the wilderness or rural areas, with characters often trying to survive and deal with the natural elements they are forced to endure.
 
On the flipside, I am also a musician, though I don’t really know if this constitutes a hobby since it’s what I do for a living, but it definitely is a passion of mine besides writing. Though I don’t explore it as much as the nature and wilderness elements, I occasionally will draw on my experiences as a recording and touring musician as fiction fodder for some of my stories.
 
Writers are often prolific readers, and I’m always looking for new things to read myself, so one thing I love asking in these interviews is: What is your favorite non-fiction book? What work of fiction has recently impressed you?
 
There are two non-fiction books I hold near and dear to my heart: Vance Randolph’s ‘Dispatches From the Ozarks’, which dives deep into the culture and unique dialect of our area, and ‘The Indifferent Stars Above’ by Daniel Brown, which tells the saga of the Donner Party, and my god, it has to be one of the most horrifying and visceral books I’ve ever read.
 
Fiction wise, I’ve recently gotten into Joyce Carol Oates’ short story collections, and have been blown away by the brevity of her story telling style. “Haunted” has to be one of the most unique collections of stories I’ve ever read, and I strongly advise anyone who likes experimental story telling and southern gothic flavoring to read her vast catalog of fiction.
 
What’s next for you? Any projects you’re especially excited about that we should keep an eye out for? 



Well, I am currently in the middle of revisions for two novels that will becoming out later this year. ‘THRALL’ draws heavily on my experiences as a touring musician and takes place in the fictional town of Carter Missouri. Grendel Press plans on releasing that one in October. My other novel, ‘…And They Will Suffer’ is a strange historical horror novel set during the civil war, and  is really three interconnected novellas dressed up in a trench coat and pretending to be a novel. Anatolian Press is handling that one, and the release for that is TBA, but we’re hoping for a winter 2024 or early 2025 release. Between those, I’ll be juggling some anthology releases and writing short stories for a few up coming submission calls.

Thank you so much for stopping by and giving us a little insight into your writing and process!

-O-

Richard Beauchamp’s short horror and speculative fiction have appeared in numerous publications such as Negative Space: An Anthology of Survival Horror, Night Terrors, and SNAFU, and his work has been compiled in several collections, including Black Tongue and Other Anomalies, Horror in the Highlands, and Triptych: Three Tales of Frontier Horror. To learn more about him and his upcoming projects, visit his website at richardbeauchampauthor.com or follow him on Instagram at r_b_author.

How can you tell it’s summer vacation? Because I drop off the face of the planet, of course! No, but seriously, we’ve hit the doldrums of summer. It’s a time I both love and loathe: love, because it means lazy mornings and time with the boys and relatively relaxed plans and time to read; loathe, because I always have a natural depression dip at this time of year, probably at least in part because getting any quiet thought time for writing is incredibly difficult, and I find when I go for more than a week without producing new words, my brain starts to fizzle and spit sparks from the buildup.

July was a busy, busy month. Much busier than I typically like, though we have had a nice time. We visited family in Texas mid-month for two weeks, which was lovely if hot. Andy and I saw and enjoyed both Maxxxine and Longlegs at the Alamo Drafthouse (one of our favorite spots to visit in the Austin area) on two lovely date nights, thanks to my indefatigable mother-in-law babysitting for us. We spent some excellent time with my brother-in-law’s family, where I got to *finally* meet my nieces in person (and they are TOO CUTE FOR WORDS OMG). I finished Reading like a Writer by Francine Prose (5/5 stars) on the plane thanks to switching off with Andy on who was entertaining/i.e. managing/the boys.

After we got back from that, we had my grandmother’s funeral, for which I read Edgar Guest’s “Good Books,” in memory of my grandmother being both a librarian and a prodigious reader. It was a bit fraught, but overall a good experience, and I got to see my sister’s family, including my AWESOME-SAUCE nephews from all the way out in California, so that was awesome.

Then it was August.

I’m about 860 pages through A Suitable Boy by Vikram Seth, and enjoying every moment of it. It’s a wonderful book to wind-down in the evenings with. I’ve just finished Richard Beauchamp’s lovely (and horrifying!) Horror in the Highlands collection (keep your eyes open for an interview with him soon!), and just today finished Seán Padraic Birnie’s I Would Haunt You if I Could. I have so many thoughts on that one, I can’t even, but suffice it to say: I loved it and my mind is melting, and I am so jealous of Birnie’s skill at writing quiet, spooky stories, I’m just…wow. Amazing.

We also cleared out the garage, which was a huge project, because our garage is huge.

But in other news, I’m social-ed out, it’s been too hot/humid (this is the first day it’s been mild and cool despite the humidity), the garden was invaded by weeds over July and I’ve only made a dent in beating the invading hoards back, and I feel like my writing brain is atrophying with how little work I’m getting done. I *have* gotten some new words, now and then, in the evenings, and I’m making a concerted effort to do more of that, but by the evening, I’m always so tired, and I’m trying not to judge myself too much for that. One lives; one tires.

I did recently learn, however, that my short weird story about grief and loss, “A Preparation of Tombstones,” was bought by Kaleidotrope, so I’ll let you know when that one’s coming out. I’m also now an official slush reader for Beneath Ceaseless Skies, so that’s crazy fun! I’m thrilled to be back on the slushing side of things, because there’s just no better way to read a lot of short fiction and analyze what works and what doesn’t. I’ve already learned so much getting back into it, so as always: I highly recommend slushing for a market if you get the opportunity! It’s also a wonderful way to give back to the community that does so much for us writers.

Three (+1 for the wee one) more weeks until school starts, so in the meantime we’ve got swim lessons, one week of camp for Thing 2, a zoom course on ghost story writing, maybe a visit to Boston or the White Mountains–that’s yet to be decided…

Anyway! More when I’ve got it, and in the meantime, make the most of your summer (and take some time to rest, too!).

The Story Hour reading went GREAT yesterday. I had so much fun reading “The Showerlier.” If you didn’t get a chance to check it out, but feel like having me read a story to you, you can watch the video here! Annika Barranti Klein’s story is so warm and fuzzy, you need to grab yourself a cup of tea and just enjoy it. Mine might need a whiskey.

In addition, shout out to my pal Katherine Quevedo who’ll be reading her work next week on The Story Hour! I think this is going to have to become a regular part of my week–maybe not the night of (10PM gets late for this here lady), but at least after-the-fact! I hope you’ll check it out!

~o~

In totally other news, I posted a new post on The Neighborhood Beast, the blog I started to document the travails of living and loving a reactive dog. If that sounds like something you’d be interest in, feel free to visit here:

The Story Hour is going to be hosting me for a reading on Wednesday, June 26 @ 10PM EST/ 7PM PST! I’ll be reading “The Showerlier” aloud, so if you like stories about doing what you love for your career and having it all go horribly, horribly wrong, then definitely join us!

Zoom link is here: https://us02web.zoom.us/j/540170760

I’m really excited about this, because I both love this story and love reading aloud. There’s something about performing that just lights me up (even if I need a looooooong social cooldown afterwards…), so I hope you’ll check it out and join us!

—O—

I owe an update here soon, but the tl;dr is: School’s out, schedule’s messed, doing some minor traveling, having toilet checked to keep it from sinking through the floor, lots of hots, and very little writing done.

What I’m working on:

Thanks to a lovely writing friend of mine who prompted me to come up with some goals for June, I’ve settled on three things:

1) I’m translating all the scenes I’m keeping (and one-line page holders for scenes I need to write or dramatically reconstruct) into a new Draft 3 document. This will be the working draft I’ll be hammering away on through the summer. I’ve broken the scenes up into the month-spanning chunks they belong to, and I’ve rearranged the scenes where needed.

2) I’m going to fix seven “yellow” edits (these are easy new scenes I think will be fun to write or simple-ish edits like removing a character who isn’t pulling their weight/ fixing continuity bits)–I’ve broken up all my edits into red, yellow, and green edits (red being the most mentally complex/think-y work, yellow being semi-challenging possibly but not too hard, and green being stupid easy things like Michaels, the art store, doesn’t have an apostrophe (i.e. it’s not Michael’s) so take that out…).

3) I’m going to fix thirteen “green” fixes (like that Michaels one).

It may still be a bit of a reach to get all of this done, but I’ve been chugging away on the draft document, and I’m over halfway through that, so I’m semi-confident I’ve been reasonable in these goals. I guess only time will tell for certain!

What’s inspiring me:

This may be part of the brain-deadness I’ve been wrestling with this week (that, or the fact that this is the first post-preschool week and I’m still adjusting to the new normal). I’ve rediscovered The Sims 4, which I’ve got on my computer, so of COURSE I had to get sucked into that for a couple days. I think I’ve burned that fever off by now, but it’s left a rather listless feeling in its wake. Has that ever happened to you? It’s almost like one of Toad’s manias (Motor-maaaania!), where it possesses me for just a short time and then burns out.

Andy and I have also been struggling to find a TV show we want to watch. We finished Fall of the House of Usher, which was solid and enjoyable, if a *little* “writer-y” as Andy likes to call it (i.e. characters say thing that you’re kind of like–would they say that in real life?). Still, had some great jump scares, and some lovely macabre death sequences. I enjoyed it. We’ll probably continue watching Haunting of Hill House next (we’ve seen one episode, and while Andy fell asleep (not unusual for him on hour-long evening shows), I’m probably going to make him watch it with me anyway, because *I* don’t want to watch it by myself… The first episode legit freaked me out more than I was expecting.)

Movie-wise, we’ve been scratching around for new things to watch, since we’ve hit most of the films we’ve been dying to see, and now have a void there, too. We watched The Blair Witch Project for the first time last weekend (given it’s prominence during our childhoods when it came out, I think we were expecting it to be scarier, but compared to modern horror films, I found it pretty tame and a little frustrating–not bad, by any means, but less scary than I expected). I blame the historical hype from my memory.

We also watched 1917, which was ah-maz-ing, and can I just emphasize how much I love films that are actually two hours and STOP? Not one of those post-LotR director-fetish cuts that go three and a half or more hours? WHO HAS TIME FOR THAT? But beyond the length, it’s a horrifically beautiful film that really gets under the skin. It’s one of the few movies that I honestly LIKE the sound balance–when things get loud, they get LOUD and surprising, and that’d exactly what it’d be like to be there. If you’re looking for a solid war flick, check out 1917 if you haven’t already.

Yesterday, we watched House of Wax (1953) starring Vincent Price, since I’m not personally very familiar with his oeuvre, and it was delightfully campy. We enjoyed it! And my goodness, some of those 50’s actresses could scream, couldn’t they? We were hoping to watch The Abominable Dr. Phibes, but couldn’t find it streaming anywhere we subscribe to, so perhaps another time.

Reading-wise, I really need to do another Poly-Reader Notes, because I suspect I’m reading more than I think I am, though A Suitable Boy is taking up a lot of that time, which shouldn’t surprise me (I’ve passed page 400, so I’m officially a third of the way through!). I’m still really enjoying it. There’s something about epics like this that make me really feel the power of the novel as a form outside of and distinct from film–the sheer scope of human experience it can capture is breathlessly delightful, and no, I’m not going to watch a four and a half hour movie that still has to abridge 90% of it.

I’ve also been neck-deep in Tiny Habits, which if you know my obsession with Atomic Habits, you’ll know is absolutely up my alley. In fact, I’d even venture to say that if you’ve read and enjoyed Atomic Habits, you should check out Fogg’s Tiny Habits, because he focuses so much more on the implementation process of building habits in successful ways, and I find it incredibly actionable and inspiring. I’ve already picked up a few new habits (like flossing! HOLY CRAP, I’ve flossed for a WEEK already! Who am I?!), and it’s been surprisingly fun!

What’s been on my mind:

The thing that’s been just driving me crazy is this blog, honestly. I like it, but I hit a wall on its voice sometimes. It’s like being shy, I’d imagine (I am that cryptid known as “an outgoing introvert”–not shy, but drained of energy after about an hour of socializing): wanting to talk, but being unable to think of anything to say. It’s incredibly frustrating. It’s not like I don’t have opinions about things (I do, too many of them, probably), but when it comes to the blank page of a blog post I get hit with this panic that I just don’t get when I’m writing fiction.

It’s like I forget how words work, or what a sentence is even supposed to DO. How is that possible?! I don’t know if it’s burnout or creative exhaustion from working whenever I can on the novel or some deeper flaw in me that makes me seize up, but it’s really freaking annoying.

Anyway. That’s been this week’s brainworm.

>>o<<

A Reminder!

Also, I flubbed a detail in the last post! I’ll be reading for STORY HOUR on Wednesday, June 26th at 7pmPST/10pmEST, but the story I’m reading will be “The Showerlier,” currently up at Redivider! I really love reading stuff out loud, and I think “Showerlier” especially will be a great listen, so I hope you’ll consider checking in! They also record the sessions, so I’ll provide a link to the video after the fact, too.

What I’m working on:

This week, I’ve been juggling two projects: 1) a quick and dirty edit of a short story I’m hoping to submit come June, and 2) beginning to tackle the rewrite of the novel WiP! #2 is the big one. Over last week while Thing 2 was sick, I finished the read-through, made a list of all the edits I felt were needed, reviewed the notes from my fabulous Beta Reader (Katherine Quevedo–check out her fantastic work!) and made a list of all the things her sharp eyes picked up on, collated those lists, and color coordinated the edits into three categories (hard, medium, and easy). No small task! But it feels great to see very clearly what needs to be done. I still want to go back through The Clockwork Muse and make a real-time plan to get this edit done by the end of the summer (I’m aiming for early September to get it to my Alpha readers), but in the meantime, I’ve been going back through Draft 2 and making a chapter-and-scene outline so I can see what I’ve got and where I need to slot/rearrange things.

The two big edits for the novel involve timing (and general pacing), and a revision of the climax to bring more elements to an emotional head at the same time and drive home some thematic issues with a little more clarity. But I’m pleased that I *like* the draft, generally. It needs work, of course, but it seems doable, so that’s encouraging.

What’s inspiring me:

Andy and I finished The Fall of the House of Usher last weekend, which was fun, and Andy forced me to watch The Wild Man of the Navidad (which, while very low budget, was actually better done than some other terrible movies I’ve seen). It was a nice contrast to some of the more modern horror flicks we’ve seen, though I’m not totally sure I’d *recommend* it per se… It scratched a kitschy itch. I’ll say that.

Otherwise, we’ve been trying to find something else to watch in the evenings, because we often only have the attention for about a half hour or so, and really prefer humor in the evenings after a long day. Still working that out, though we’ve enjoyed the first two episodes of Cunk on Earth, which is a spoof of David Attenborough-style history documentaries.

I’ve really been enjoying Tiny Habits by BJ Fogg, which has a lot in common with Atomic Habits by James Clear, but in ways feels more deliberately actionable rather than aspirational. Fogg’s description of motivation vs. ability alone is probably worth the price of the book if you’ve ever wanted to start a new habit and just. could. not. (*raises hand*)

I also started A Year in Practice by Jacqueline Suskin, which is a creative meditation on how Earth’s seasonal rhythms (with a temperate climate-lean) influence the creative process of artists, drawn from Suskin’s own poetry practice. It’s very flowy and poetic, as you’d imagine, more akin to Julie Cameron than Twyla Tharp. So if you like that kind of vibe, it’s an interesting read!

Just finished watching Ashley Madison: Sex, Lies, and Scandal on Netflix, which I’ll admit was maddening and gripping and crazymaking, but also quite interesting. It was particularly bizarre while reading Tiny Habits, because for all that the creators of Ashley Madison claimed they didn’t “make” people cheat (motivation (and true)), the mere act of making cheating a whole lot easier (ability) undoubtedly played into some people crossing a line they might not otherwise have had the energy or ability to do. Would it have stopped them if another opportunity arose? Probably not! But making a behavior easier to do is definitely part of behavior modification. And then the whole fraud angle-! Oh my gosh… Fraud is one of those things I find especially interesting (Inventing Anna on Netflix is a delightful and also infuriating biopic about Anna Delvey and is brilliantly acted by Julia Garner as Anna–and of course McMillions), so it scratched that itch on multiple levels.

I’m just about finished reading Reaching Down the Rabbit Hole by Dr. Allan H. Ropper and Brian David Burrell about Dr. Ropper’s experience practicing Neurology at Brigham and Women’s in Boston (Dr. Ropper was Michael J. Fox’s neurologist when he was diagnosed with Parkinson’s). It’s been an interesting read, though I feel like it’s a little dramatic compared to the day-to-day of an outpatient clinician (he’s a hospitalist, so that does make some sense, but a lot of the more mundane cases are obviously glazed over because they’re, well, boring). Somewhat satisfying, but I’m not sure I’ve gained much understanding I didn’t already have, so I’d go with around three, three-and-a-half stars on this one.

What’s challenging me:

Well, it’s not challenging me just yet, but BOY WILL IT. School is coming to an end, and with it, my predictable schedule. I’m going to have to hash out something else to guarantee writing time, but I haven’t nailed that down yet. Keep your fingers crossed for me. June is always a bit helter-skelter with the end of school, birthdays, father’s day, and totally upended schedules.

What I worked on this week

This last week has been all about getting back into a regular routine. The week after Mo*Con, we had car trouble, tummy trouble, and a field trip, so I didn’t get into the office even once. It felt so good to get back into my happy, quiet, creative space! My focus this week has been twofold: 1) push forward on the novel WIP reread so that I can make some edit notes and get started on that ASAP, and 2) organize my submission system better.

Rereading the novel has actually been a lot of fun. While there are certainly areas that need love and attention, it has a more generous feel to it than I’ve had on novel attempts in the past. I find myself using phrases like “weed,” “fertilize,” and “give a bit more light.” That’s what this pass feels like: gentle gardening. Attempting to make the good things grow and give them space and attention to bloom. It feels much kinder than the typical “cut”/”fix”/”slash”/”battle” terminology I sometimes fall into with editing.

Submissions organization-wise, I found my online methodologies of finding and tracking submission itineraries (lists of markets I typically make prior to submission) was becoming a challenge. Trello has been GREAT for color-coding market genres and tracking project status and what’s out on submission, as well as a great place to put notes for when I get a personal rejection. I can also see at a glance how many places a piece has been submitted to, which is lovely. I also use Duotrope for the actual real-time tracking process, because otherwise, my head would spin off into oblivion trying to remember all the details. (You can read more about my thoughts on Duotrope here!) But I needed someplace to pre-list all the markets I intend to send a piece to. I always do this in advance, organizing the list by priority (usually payscale, sometimes dream markets), so that when I start submitting a work and get a rejection, I can shoot it right back out to the next market on the list without having to wallow for too long. I find this absolutely vital to my own submission process, and it’s much more stressful to have to find a market in the moment than to already know where it goes next. So I got myself a five-column logbook off Amazon (this one), and this is where I list out every market I intend to send a story to before I’ve even submitted it once. I number each market and submit in that order. If one is closed when the story comes back, I just find the next available market in my list and send it there, and send it to the skipped market at the first opportunity. That way there’s no lag between a rejection and a submission. Once it’s run the gauntlet, I can either retire the story or keep it on the back-burner for that perfect anthology call that fits it to a T. But at least I’ll have done my part, and I can easily keep track of sub date and query/rejection date. It’s kind of like batch cooking your week’s lunches–it’s already done and waiting, so you can just grab and go.

What’s inspiring me this week?

Oh my goodness, so much stuff. Of course, anyone who’s talked to me in person recently knows I’m obsessed with Vikram Seth’s A Suitable Boy, and I’ll probably end up writing a treatise on the joys of soothingly slow novels in a world where everything is pushed towards peak optimization. I’ve also been absolutely obsessed with GLOW on Netflix. Brigerton 3 just came out, but I haven’t started it yet. I’ve been watching SO MANY HORROR MOVIES lately, some of which have been delightful (The Autopsy of Jane Doe, His House, Fall of the House of Usher (TV)), and some, not so much (I still can’t get over Smile losing itself at midpoint…the music alone-! OMG. So scary. And then, PFFFFT, crapped the bed.). I’ve been playing Stardew Valley as my most cynical persona, seducer of all, lover of none (except her cat, Minx and her bestie, Linus), mostly so I can find out all the backstories.

I also just picked up A Year in Practice by Jacqueline Suskin, all about how the earth and the seasons influence creative practice. I’ve also started Horror in the Highlands by the inimitable Richard Beauchamp, which I’m delighting in (I’ve been meaning to read it so, so, so much earlier than this, but finally just sprung for a paper copy, because I hate reading on screens). And I picked up a few books on grammar and diagraming sentences, because that stuff’s fascinating and I never feel like I know enough. Also watched The Mitchells Vs. the Machines with the boys yesterday, and can I just say, it was a LOVELY time? I laughed out loud, I cried (I’m not crying, YOU’RE crying!)–it was super fun. Thing 1 has been trying to get me to watch it for months now, and I’m so glad I finally caved.

What are my goals for the coming week?

This week, it’s all about finishing the novel WIP readthrough. I think it’s a good sign that I’ve been voluntarily sneaking extra scenes in at home, actually wanting to read it–I’m taking it that way, anyway. If I can finish the read through and review edit notes and start making a concerted plan for how to move forward into the third draft, that’ll be a good place to land. I’d really like to be able to start editing properly in June, so I’ve got to wrap this up soon.