But How Will It End?

Old Truck, RhyoliteLast week, I posted a story for feedback, End of Harvest, and asked for suggestions on how to end it. First of all, thank you to anyone who offered an ending. I got quite a few great suggestions from you all (even those of you that chose to call or email me, rather than comment on my page 😉 ).

I decided that I’m going to write three different endings, two of which are inspired by your suggestions, and another that I have tucked away in a dark place. I will post these endings there, soon.

Once I finish and post these endings, I’ll ask all of you to choose which one you like the best, and the one with the most votes will become the official ending to the story. Yes, the fate of Manny and his family is in your hands, dear readers.

In Other News….

Yesterday, Neil Gaiman posted an interview he did with Stephen King.  The article was quite interesting, focusing on the success of King’s career, how he started, his daily writing habits, and where he plans to go from here. Of particular interest is the bit where he describes the idea behind Dr. Sleep, the upcoming sequel to his 1977 novel The Shining.

Check out Neil Gaiman’s post here.

Cheers to Fears,

M. R. C.

Ginormous Awesomeness

The third time in my life I felt like I may be kidnapped... (Don't ask about the other two.)

I had the opportunity to meet the lovely Mercedes M. Yardley tonight.  What a wonderful opportunity it was!  Among the many other topics of conversation, she had a lot of great advice on writing and submitting my stories.  Thanks again, Mercedes, for taking a little bit of time out of your busy schedule to meet with me. 🙂

In other news…

I’m still waiting for more ideas on how to end my story, End of Harvest.  Keep those suggestions coming!

Looking for an Ending

I was laying in bed the other night reading The Writer, and I noticed seven pages worth of fiction and poetry contests with deadlines ranging from now until the end of the summer. This is both good and bad; I have many options when considering where to submit my work, but I could end up spending a lot of money in the process. 😉

But, in the spirit of the contest season, I have prepared a short, short story called “End of Harvest”. Originally set in the post apocalyptic world of The Fall of Galen (the first book in a dark fantasy series written with my co-author BJ Sendelbaugh), it is a story about two teenage brothers tasked with destroying the farm’s zombie slaves.  I changed a few details that took it out of that world, but my intention is to eventually rework it to fit right back in.

I’m sharing this with the caveat that this is not a final draft, but merely the early workings of a story.  I haven’t even shared this one with my critique group yet (sorry gals).  When it is complete, though, you may just find it right back here.  By the way, I welcome and encourage all comments and suggestions.  I’m not quite sure how to end it yet, so I’m looking to you all to help me.

Read End of Harvest by clicking here.


Cheers to fears,

M. R. C.

Tipping the Lid

Well, I’m finally here.  The world of blogging.  I feel like I’ve put this off for way too long, like I’ve been hiding inside my coffin, and now I’m tipping the lid to survey the world beyond my comfort zone.  Though I am excited to venture into this world, I’ve been afraid to take these first few steps.

But here I am, jumping right in.

I am a writer.  I’ve been doing it for a long time.  I can still recall being in middle school and writing stories and poems that I felt reflected the world around me.  And it was a scary world, still is.  One day in 8th grade, I got called to the school counselor because of a poem I wrote about being a social outcast.  Though I didn’t feel like I fit into that category at the time, I wanted to express the feelings of my peers that struggled to fit in each and every day.  Apparently, I was good at it.

But before I was a writer, I was a reader and an avid movie-goer.  My genre of choice: horror.   I couldn’t get enough of the stuff.  When I think back to all of the horror flicks my parents let me watch, I can’t imagine allowing my own future children the same pleasures.  But I’m glad they did.  I was hooked, fascinated with fear. I watched rerun after rerun of the old Twilight Zone episodes, every cheesy Friday the 13th and A Nightmare on Elm Street sequel, Tales from the Crypt, etc.   They scared me but I loved it.  When the lights were off, and I was tucked away in bed, I waited for my Teddy Ruxpin to start talking like Chucky did in Child’s Play, despite the fact that I had removed his batteries.  I refused to turn on the lights, though.  I wanted–needed–to feel the fear.

I’m not sure when I started reading, but it’s something I can’t recall not doing.  I was in elementary school when my Mom bought me my first Goosebumps book. As I turned the last page, an overwhelming realization struck me: books could offer me the same feeling as films did.  I couldn’t help but think that after I closed my book at night, the characters might jump from the page and into my bedroom, even once I’d finished the story.  I asked my parents to buy every single one as they came out.  This evolved quickly into reading authors like Stephen King and Dean Koontz.  I discover more authors every day, but I must acknowledge those two for how much they have influenced me.

With my love of fear, and my rediscovered ability to manipulate that emotion through writing, I found my happy place in writing horror.

I will spare you the details of my experimental writings–those in which I attempted humor and romance (among others).  Let’s just say that I ventured into many unknown territories in an effort to refine my craft.  These efforts were fruitful, but the genres were not for me.  I am back where I belong in the dark world of the macabre.

As I stand here, holding that lid, contemplating sneaking back into my coffin, I know that I have to let go.  I have to venture into this blogging world.  What will I bring with me?  The darker side of life, what inspires my writing, and what makes people scared. Hopefully, some readers will begin to embrace fear the way I do.  Look for stories, as well.  I can’t wait to share some with you.

Cheers to fears,

M. R. C.