Writer’s Group

So this week I was invited to a local writer’s group in the merry old town of Kingston. I decided to go, and boy am I glad I did! Everyone was nice and there are some amazing writers in the group. When I went to Regent way back in the day, we had a small writer’s group and I missed the camaraderie. Getting that back was certainly a wonderful thing, but the best thing this evening was the writing prompt assignment. I think all writers know about writing prompts, and while they can range from painful to pleasurable, this one was definitely the latter. As a little treat, I thought I’d share the two inklings of story I produced this evening below.

The first story I wrote was a horroresque one, prompted by the phrase “when her eyes glazed over”. Here it is in all its glory:

Sometimes, in the dead of night, i remember their screams calling to me, beckoning me to somewhere deep inside the blackness, tempting me to join them. I must confess, the pull of them is strong, and it is only when i strangle them that I gain the power to overcome their macabre Siren’s call.

As I sit here surrounded by the urine-soaked walls, the mutterings and ramblings of those for whom sanity has never existed my only companions, I think back to those moments just before death, when the struggle to live is gone and the soul waits patiently for the filthy flesh to release it into the ether. It is then when they are at their most beautiful, their most innocent. But none were so beautiful as Alice, and when her eyes glazed over, finally accepting her fate…that was the first and only time I felt remorse. It was, in fact, the catalyst which led to my capture and current incarceration.

But she had to be stopped. I swear to you, she had the blackness within her that all flesh has, yet she also had something else, a word I had always heard but never experienced. Alice had hope. She made me want to be a better person, but she also made me want to be a dirty little boy…and Mother abhors dirty little boys…

Mother…she would have been so proud of me, the way I never gave in to their blackness, no matter how loudly they might scream. Yet I feel her, standing in the corner there just to my left, a disdainful smile playing across her wizened face. “Jeremy,” she says, “Good boys don’t get caught. Good boys do God’s work, and God rewards them by keeping them safe from the laws of the self-righteous hypocrites rutting like wild hogs in heat.”

I would try to explain Alice to her as I have to you, but Mother is much wiser than I, and even dead she does not suffer fools lightly.

 

Well, that’s enough for this time. I hope you enjoyed it. I’ll share the other snippet in my next blog.

Until Death Is Defeated,

Sam

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I beat Mary Shelley, and got beaten by her…

Check out who’s # 38 in Horror Classics:
http://www.amazon.com/gp/bestsellers/digital-text/7588834011/ref=pd_zg_hrsr_kstore_1_5_last#2

Thanks to everyone who has bought a copy. I couldn’t have gotten this far without you. I love you all. Please continue to buy, share, review, etc.

Until Death Is Defeated,

Sam

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Immolation now has a full cover, and will be coming soon.

Hey everyone, guess what? The publisher just sent me the final cover for Immolation. Yep, it’s coming soon from my dear friends at J. Ellington Ashton Press, and since they told me that if I didn’t sell a million copies before year’s end they would chop me into pieces and play Frisbee with my brain (a thousand points to the person who gets that reference), I’ve decided that I will reveal the full cover to my readers. So, here it is, in all its glory:

immolation full cover

Pretty, right? Let me know what you think in the comments, and please share this with as many friends as you can.

Until Death is Defeated,

Sam

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#YesAllWomen and Game of Thrones

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In the midst of this ‪#‎YesAllWomen‬ event, I wanted to tell everyone why I stopped watching Game of Thrones in the middle of the first season. It had nothing to do with not liking the story or the acting, both were excellent. It has nothing to do with some sort of jealousy for an author’s work making it big; my book hasn’t been released yet, so how could I possibly be jealous of another’s work when mine hasn’t even had a chance to shine?

The reason I stopped watching was, quite frankly, the objectification of women in every single episode. I’m no prude, and those of you who know me well can attest to that. I also realize there are plenty of strong women in the series, and in fact they were some of my favorite characters. But to me, every time I saw Arya growing into a strong young woman I was reminded not a few scenes later that women had breasts. Every time Daenerys found an inner strength to make her way in the world I was reminded shortly thereafter that she, too, had breasts. It annoyed me.

I know the series is great, and I understand why people watch it. That’s fine. But for me, I needed to see women being strong without resorting to flashing their mammary glands on the screen every other scene. I just wish that there could be more shows that had women who didn’t feel the need to resort to sex to make them feel powerful. With all the ridiculous messages that tell women their value is found in what they wear, what moves they can do in the bedroom, and how small of a waist they can maintain or how large their breasts need to be, I just felt that GoT did nothing to help dissemble these stereotypes. And so I stopped watching.

Speaking of strong women, I hear Buffy calling me. See ya later.
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Until Death is Defeated,

Sam

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Influences: The Musical

When I was trying to write “Immolation” I had no ideas. Less than zero. I’m talking ideas were so unavailable I often thought about retyping a novel I liked and changing it a little bit, hoping no one would notice. And then, I heard this song and the spark came.

There was something about this song that spoke to me. Sure, the music is amazing and brutal, but the story within was, I believe, Lydia’s first attempt at getting out of my head and onto paper. The lyrics tell of a girl who has lived a life of pain and torment, regretting everything, and as she is about to be destroyed by her own demons she cries out “to the God she used to know”. That was powerful, and I knew that I wanted to tell a story of a girl who fought to overcome the darkness both outside of her and within her. I hope, when you read the book, that you will agree that I’ve accomplished this. And I also hope that, when you read the book, it will help you conquer your own demons.

Until Death is Defeated,

Sam

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The BFD

Those who know me-really know me-can tell you that I have something of a humble streak. In fact, I tend to be humble to a fault, not accepting compliments and using myself as the butt of many jokes. I’ve been told I shouldn’t do this, but I guess I’m too British not to.

So when I got my last round of edits back from the publisher, I began working on them, not really thinking about it. Writing is more than a “job” or a “hobby”, it is something of a spiritual experience. I can’t describe it any better than that, not because I fail at wordsmithing (I actually have put most of my experience points in it) but because like most things spiritual, it must be experienced rather than explained. And editing is a part of that experience; I just sort of zone out and do what needs to be done, enjoying the process. tonight, in the midst of it, I suddenly realized: I’m going to be published. Not self-published, not sell books out of the trunk published, but actually published. And when I tried to downplay this with my damned humility, my brain said, “No, idiot, this is a BFD!” (For those of you who might be slow, that translates roughly into Big Frikkin’ Deal). And it is. Not a large percentage of people get published, but an even smaller percentage actually complete a novel. Writing novels is difficult, not because throwing sentences together is in and of itself difficult, but because writing drains you, body and soul. You write because you are compelled by a force stronger than you, and there are days when it can take all that is within you to write a sentence, while other days it flows from you like beer at a frat party.

Writer’s block is only conquered by writing. There are no secrets to this, just doing the work. And sometimes, when the stars align, the Norns favor you, and Heaven smiles down, you get to have something published. But if we did it to get published, we’d be writing bodice-ripper romance novels. I don’t think I’ll rid myself of my self-deprecation any time soon, but the realization that I’m being published, that this is a BFD, makes me feel a little bit good about myself. And I think it should.

Until Death is Defeated,

 

Sam

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Immolation has a cover, and it’s pretty creepy.

I know, I know. I’m a bum. No blogs posted in a little while. I swear I have a good reason, but you don’t want to hear it. You want style, substance, information, and maybe a picture of me doing something embarrassing. Well, I don’t have any of those to give you, but I do have the final cover for Immolation to tide you over. Thanks to Fish for all his hard work.

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Extra creepy, I know. Book is in second edits and should be done soon. Thanks for all the encouragement from all those who matter. And if you’re wondering if that means you, it does.

Until Death Is Defeated,

Sam

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