Domestic Horror

Don't you hate it when people let months, even entire years go by without updating their blogs?

Me, too.

*ahem*

When I moved to New York City in 1996, I never intended to leave. About a year and a half ago, the fam and I moved to a small town in New Jersey. Most New Jersey small towns within a one-hour drive of New York City are considered suburbs, and ours is no exception. With housing prices in Brooklyn showing no sign of coming down any time soon, and with my husband working in Secaucus, moving seemed like a resigned evil.

So here we are.

That first summer in our new house -- like, a real house with a backyard and basement and a mailbox that doesn't require a key -- the kids were not in any kind of camp or daycare, I was working from home part time, and blogging seemed like one more chore to drag down my mood.

Then the kids started school and things got really hectic. There were issues. There was drama. There were problems. Getting us all through each day felt like a marathon. I kept waiting for that moment when everything would click into place and I'd finally feel like this was home, this was our life, and this was fine. Everyone kept telling me how happy I should be. So I kept waiting.

I also picked up a Shirley Jackson book.

Every once in a while I go on a book-buying freeze because I find that my to-read pile has grown out of control. Whether they were given to me, I won them, or bought them and forgot, when I find I have more than two dozen unread books in my house, I force myself to read those before I buy any more.

Years ago I had attended Book Expo America and since it was the last day of the convention people were giving away free books. I picked up "Come Along With Me," a collection of Jackson's short stories and lectures. And then I forgot about it.

Reading this book at the exact moment when living in small town suburbia felt more like the American Nightmare than the American Dream tapped into something deep down in my psyche that I couldn't put my finger on. Of course stories like "The Summer People" and "The Lottery" resonated with me, but what really piqued my interest were the details of Jackson's life and her personal essays. I followed "Come Along With Me" by reading "The Haunting of Hill House" and "We Have Always Lived in the Castle," and I felt like, "Where have these stories been my whole life?" It was like finding my literary True Love.

After "We Have Always Lived in the Castle," I bought and read "Life Among the Savages" and "Raising Demons," both collections of Jackson's personally essays on raising children in small-town America. And though those stories happened over five decades ago, they resonate with me today with their timeless themes of stubborn children, household chaos, and small town weirdness.

Now we've settled in to our "quaint" little piece of the suburbs just fine: the kids have friends and get invited to birthday parties; my husband and I have game nights with other couples; we've been to enough restaurants to have favorites; we all have library cards. Sometimes I don't hate it here, and I'm no longer scared to drive. The summer camps are much cheaper, the schools are amazing, and I know where to find NYC-worthy bagels. But it still feels weird to me and probably always will. I'm a city girl. I feel safe in cities, with their crowds and anonymity. Growing up in Miami and living my entire adult life in New York City, I've never felt out of place as a Jew; here, I'm definitely a minority. My kids went from a school in Brooklyn where at least a dozen other children had their same Hispanic last name, to being the only ones with that name here. And though our town is known for its enormous, fancy houses, we live in a smallish house on the less-desirable end of town and on my really good days I don't feel self-conscious about that.

I've written three new stories in the past three months, and one flash piece before that, all with the same theme: the horror within our own families. I call it "domestic horror," and I fully admit I am inspired by the Shirley Jackson. My flash piece, "I Forgot to Lock the Door," was written during that first summer here when I kept waiting for the "good for families!" part of our new town to show itself and felt, instead, like we had made a huge mistake in moving here.

So yes, it's been tough at times but it's getting easier. And yes, blogging seemed like the last thing I wanted to do for a while. At least now I feel less alone, both in my real life thanks to the friends I've made, and in my inner life, thanks to Shirley Jackson.

#SpecFicByWomenOfColor

This year I focused the bulk of my reading on books of the speculative fiction genre written by women of color (WOC). Why? Here is what I posted at the beginning of the year.

I didn't get to read as many as I'd hoped, for various reasons: some books I started but couldn't continue because the writing was just not good; I had some reading promises to keep to others; and, then, once in a while I found something else I wanted to read that just so happened to be either not spec fic or not by a WOC.

After certain recent events, I researched online ways I could support small, Black-owned businesses. On one website with a list of Black-owned online retailers, an idiotic commenter asked, "What about a list of White-owned businesses?"

The answer to that is, I think, similar to the reason why I focused this year on spec fic by WOC: Because White is already considered the norm, especially White and male. I'm betting that anyone reading this can name, offhand and without a lot of thought, at least five White, male fantasy/sci-fi writers. I know I can.

Now, can you name five women?

Can you name five women of color?

When you come from a place of privilege it's easy to have a blind spot when it comes to the "other." As a White woman I felt it my duty to make the conscious effort to expand my literary world.

Between the hideous and utterly misogynistic "social movement" Gamergate and the Ferguson, MO court ruling, I think that right now is the perfect time to support female writers (and all lady geeks!) and geeks of color. Female writers don't have cooties; they don't all write romance (my short stories have 0% romance in them, and only one of my novels has a romantic relationship in it, which is more of a side plot than the feature); they don't all write about periods and babies and shoe shopping. Writers of color don't only write about how hard their lives are, or how exotic their native lands are, or how much they hate White people. Certain things are universal, and that's the main takeaway I found in this project: Alienation. Longing. Acceptance. Fear. Growth. Guilt. Redemption. Regret. And yes, love. Love is not a woman thing. It's not a girly thing. Even men need love in their lives, whether it's romantic or something else...something more.

Black writers do not write only for Black people. Women do not write only for women. To think so, and to go through life enjoying only books that match your demographic, is to miss out on some of the greatest, most interesting and entertaining works out there. And, that's also sort of missing the point of being into spec fic, isn't it?

I'll be keeping this list in the column to the right up on my blog for the foreseeable future, and as I go forward and read more spec fic by WOC I'll add them to the list. For now, here are some resources I have been using throughout 2014 to find books to read, as well as some other links I like.

The Carl Brandon Society works "to help build further awareness of race and ethnicity in speculative literature and related fields." http://carlbrandon.org/index.html

Worlds Without End's Award Winning Books by Women Authors. You might have to dig a little to find the WOC, but they're there. https://www.worldswithoutend.com/lists_women_winners.asp

The Nerds of Color. Just an all-around great geek site. http://thenerdsofcolor.org/

An article on Asian spec fic writers. http://carriecuinn.com/2013/06/18/list-94-asian-speculative-fiction-authors-with-links/

Another good all-purpose list. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Speculative_fiction_by_writers_of_color

This list is YA-heavy, but hey, there is some damn fine YA out there. https://www.goodreads.com/list/show/36880.Speculative_Fiction_by_Women_of_Color

For 2015 I will not be focusing on authors; rather, I'm going to attempt to put a dent in my rather large pile of unread books I already own. Some of them might be by writers of color; some are by women of color. I'll keep you posted. 

Spoiler-Free Book Review: "Rainbird" by Rabia Gale

Before I go into my review of Rabia Gale's novella, I take great pleasure in announcing that my short story, "Atheists in the Cemetery," has been accepted for publication in Burial Day Book's upcoming anthology, "Gothic Blue Book 4!"

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Just as the halfbreed title character of Rabia Gale's 31,000-word novella "Rainbird" belongs to neither one world nor the other, the story itself is neither one genre nor another. It has elements of Steampunk, but isn't, quite; there's a great deal of future noir, but it isn't all that; and the story itself is very heroic fantasy, without actually being heroic fantasy. It's a hybrid, like Rainbird herself.

And I love it.

I first discovered Rabia Gale while reading Sword & Sorceress 28. Her story about a kite-maker and the children she helps was done so well, the writing so tight and so ethereal, I had to look her up. I found "Rainbird" on her site and bought it without a second thought.

"Rainbird" takes place in some undisclosed time, presumably in our world, though even that's neither confirmed nor denied. What is told to the audience is that there is no more sun. No giant yellow ball of gas in the sky to provide light, heat, and life. Instead, the role of the sun is played by a giant heat lamp of sorts called the Day Sun, which travels on a track called the sunway across the land.

Oh, and that track? Runs along the spinal cord of a long-dead, continent-sized dragon who fell to earth.

Yeah.

Did I mention how much I love this?

Rainbird is half-human through her father Petrus, and half a species called eerie, angel-like creatures who resent the humans and their sunway and their Day Sun. The eerie have very specific rules about half-breeds, and Rainbird's mere existence is not part of those rules. As such, Petrus keeps her in hiding as his assistant inspector. They live and work in the skeleton of the dragon, helping the Company to keep the sunway running.

I. Love. This.

There's nothing about any of this I don't love. Gale's writing itself is strong and descriptive. She knows when to crank up the action and when to let you breathe. She knows exactly how much detail to give, and when. She's created a fantastical, whimsical, dark, world that is simultaneously familiar and utterly strange.

I love halfbreed stories, and I love stories of underdogs who become the hero through chance and circumstances. I love the sunway on the dragon's spine, I love the black market on Rib Three, I love the egg and mushroom houses along the dragon's bones. I love that a dragon fell to earth and got used in this way. I love the eerie's snark.

And I love the ending. Not giving anything away, but with a story like this it would have been very easy for Gale to take an extreme: either a very happy, sappy ending, or a very dark and sad one. She chose neither, and I respect that and love the choice she made.

I look forward to many, many more quality works from Rabia Gale, one of my new favorite writers.

Guest Post: JD Miller

As we know, writing can be a lonely, solitary process. Thanks to the magics of the interwebs, writers have more ways than ever of connecting with one another, learning from one another, and finding our "people" out there in cyberspace.

For these past three weeks, I've introduced you to three of my writing people: my critique partners. I like the number three for critique partners; if just one person disagrees with me, I'm never sure whether they are right and I should change something, or whether they just didn't "get" it; with two, they may completely disagree with one another ("You should totally cut that scene out," "You should totally make that scene longer,"); with three there is always a tie-breaker, and if more than one -- or all three -- say the same thing about a particular scene or short story, I know I can trust them.

Having a good critique partner isn't easy. It's a give-and-take process that requires an enormous deal of trust, communication and respect. The three people I'm spotlighting are writers whose work I genuinely enjoy reading, who are somewhere around the same place I am with regards to experience and position in trying to get published, and whose advice I take to heart.

Two weeks ago I introduced you to my longest-running critique relationship, and last week you met my newest critique partner. Here to wrap things up is my middlest critique partner, JD Miller, aka Lady of Kaos. I had the pleasure of critiquing the second novel in her BLOOD OF KAOS series, DREAMREAPER, and in return she's given me tremendous insight into world-building, continuity, and character development. (She also keeps my sentence lengths in check because I once called her the Queen of Run-On Sentences. Turnabout is fair play.) Her world of fairies is well-built, well-thought out, and those fairies? Are anything but twee.

JD has some experience in indie publishing, which she's going to discuss here. You can find her on Twitter at LadyofKaos or on her blog at http://ladyofkaos.wordpress.com.

Published

In the beginning, my book series was not a series. It was merely an indulgent whim, an opportunity to try my hand at writing. The idea of turning it into a published piece of work was…inconceivable.

Enter a handful of diehard fans. That’s diehard Blood of Kaos fans, not Bruce Willis Diehard fans...although I do love those movies. At the behest of my diehard fans, I began to think that perhaps they were right and I could turn the story into something more than mere ramblings of a fantasy enthusiast. Jump ahead six years and here I am…with a published book…and the second in the series in the works. The journey has involved hard work, a lot of reading, tons of writing, and listening to professional advice. May I add, there is a ton of professional advice out there.  It can literally drive you mad.  My unprofessional advice is to consider what they have to say, because they do have many valid points, but, in the end, no one knows your work better than you - make your own decisions about your writing and how to handle it. Don’t short change yourself by listening to bullshit about how a first fantasy novel should be limited to 100,000 words or less, if possible. Fantasies are epic for a reason. If you are writing fantasy and it takes 150,000 words to tell the tale then use 150,000 words, but you have to make damn sure those 150,000 words are worth reading.

Now, when you’re ready to actually publish your book (after many beta reads, critiques from amazing writing partners (I have my own personal Writing Dominatrix) [You're welcome. - MM.], edits, rewrites, edits, and more rewrites, which then should be handed over to a qualified editor, which will naturally lead to more rewrites, edits, and rewrites. Never fear, it’s normal, something I didn’t know at the time. I’ve learned many things since Blood of Kaos was published) be very choosy about to whom you release your Precious. I submitted my manuscript to dozens upon dozens upon DOZENS of literary agents. I fine tuned my query letter and my synopsis (bane!) and submitted to every fantasy literary agent I could find.

Then I read somewhere that a writer doesn’t necessarily have to have a literary agent to be successful. 

By the sea and stars! A writer can submit direct to publishers!

Hold up little darlin’ before you get too excited.

The big publishing houses do not accept unsolicited manuscripts. They require all submissions come through a literary agent.

Tartarus!

Plan B. Thus, I submitted my Precious to smaller publishing houses. Reject, reject, reject, and, oh, look! Reject! Mumbling to myself how J.K. Rowling suffered her fair share of rejections before finding the holy grail of publishers, I continued to submit, always with the positive belief that all I needed was ONE to see the genius in my work. Amidst all the rejections, most of which came right off a computerized rejection assembly line, there was one angel of mercy, a bright shiny light of encouragement, my bridge over troubled waters. A gracious woman from The Wild Rose Press actually read my first three chapters and responded with valuable feedback; feedback that I will never forget. Her suggestions changed everything.

Of course, it meant I had to regroup and rethink the flow of the story and do the rewrite thing. I wasn’t successful with The Wild Rose because Blood of Kaos is not a romance novel. It has romance and a little erotica, but it’s not the driving force of the story. But not long after, I found a publishing house that was willing to take me on. I thought the sun, the moon, and the stars had aligned and Fate had finally smiled on me.

Funny thing about that smile – it was more of a smirk - no, not even a smirk. It was a twitch - an evil twitch - at the corner of her wicked, black-lipsticked lips. Euphoria had tainted my vision.

Hear me well, there are publishing houses and there are publishing houses.

After this venture it’s the Indie author train straight to self-publishing. It will take a lot of hard work, but, at the end of the day, the profits will be mine. I won’t have to give the lions share to someone who does nothing to promote me as an author other than tack my picture, a bio, and a snippet of my book on their website (all of which I created myself). Yeah, that’s worth 60% of whatever I sell, she says with a roll of her eyes. As a result, I have absolutely no control over my book for five years, no say in the pricing, no free copies, no mobi versions (even after I specifically requested one), no marketing assistance, no help with reviews, no guidance and no advice WHATSOEVER for a novice author, BUT I did get a single .pdf file.

Hallelujah, shall we dance in the streets for that small concession!

Silly me thought it would be a 50/50 type relationship. I thought publishers invested time and effort into their authors to help them towards success. Does a successful author not make for a successful publisher? Why take someone on and leave them to flounder in the deep end? Do you really expect to make money that way? I don’t get it.

Perhaps I think too logically, too Mr. Spock. I am a Ned Stark amidst the Ramsey Boltons and Tywin Lannisters of the publishing world. Fortunately, unlike Ned Stark, I’ve been able to keep my head and am able to take a new path.

As Jamie Fraser would say, “Je suis prest!”

Or, at least, I think I am…