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Showing posts from January, 2018

Horrible Writing

As a writer of horror (and the greatest horror is in trying to get published) I watch horror movies.   Part of the fun is that some poorly made movies can be quite good while some studio productions can be awful.   The difference is in the writing. I’m sure we’ve all seen horror films that are dashed together startle scenes and gory with no plot or storyline.   Good escapism they may be, but they leave you hungry.   The mind craves a story to follow, even in horror.   Especially in horror. I’ve recently entered the market for buying a house.   I’m a first time buyer.   Probably it wasn’t a good idea to binge watch the Amityville trilogy.   The first film is okay, being loosely based on the book.   The second film is more disturbing than scary and that’s because of an evil father.   The third is pure tripe. Amityville 3-D has plot lines raised and dropped like fire bombs over Dresden.   So spare in its writing that actors are frequently given no lines, they stand stupidly

Neglectful Parents

If I was a parent I’d be accused of neglect.   I have to say 2017 was the least published year of recent memory.   Not that I’ve been neglecting my fiction, but I had a non-fiction book accepted and I work full-time and commute to that job—you get the picture. I’ve also had a personal epiphany.   If you can write, you should get paid for it.   I know a publicist (not my own; I don’t have one) and she says she won’t let her authors even write an op-ed if they don’t get paid.   I guess I’d never get published then. My Medusa novel had a flicker of hope for a few moments.   A publisher actually wrote back asking for the rest of the manuscript.   That’s never happened before.   Then the editor disappeared.   Even called me by the wrong pseudonym.   I’ve gotta wonder about that because the second half of the novel’s even better than the first. While looking for an agent for my non-fiction (couldn’t find one of those either) I came across several who said they liked quirky ficti