This month I'm fortunate enough to be co-hosting once again, alongside Nancy Gideon, Doreen McGettigan, Chrys Fey, Bish Denham, and Pat Garcia!
Like so many aspiring authors, it seems I've been treading water, fighting the waves of expectations. My ambitions have been blindly pushing a manuscript to the mainland of mass market publishing, when one glance above the waves would reveal the myriad of indie press islands and small press archipelagos around me.
I'm sure, if I kept beating my head against the rocks, I could eventually heave a manuscript up onto the shores of New York or California. The problem is it, that manuscript will be so water-logged and sun-bleached that it won't resemble the original ideas I fell in love with. It's time to stop treading water, begin writing for myself again, and see where the tide takes me.
I'm a weird guy with an odd imagination - and it's time to own it. I am never going to be able to successfully write fiction that's safe and palatable to the masses. I want to write a fantasy novel that's seriously f*cked up and gloriously bizarre. I want to write a horror novel that's obscenely twisted and stomach-churning. I want to let my imagination run wild and see who is crazy enough to chase it.
As it turns out, the stories I wanted to write are already there, lurking beneath the surface of my first drafts - and I'm having a hell of a lot of fun letting the monsters drag me down for a salvage tour of my forgotten shipwrecks.