National Novel Writing Prep

Posted on by sereichert

It is that magical time of year again. That time where my blog posts get shorter, the house falls into disarray, and herd of cats goes unfed (not true, if it’s one thing that can take me away from my writing, its the screaming protest of two obviously starving felines).

National Novel Writing Month is upon us. In four days time, I hope you’ll be joining me on a journey of creativity, self discovery, and frustrating obstacles to overcome. Much like a marathon, NANOWRIMO is not just a test of the word count, but a test of your mental fortitude. As in years past, I will be offering a short blog each week to help inspire you through the process.

But this week, I want to help you get ready.

First, commit to the process. It’s daunting. It’s scary. It’s a mountain of words to conquer and so many people won’t even type the first ten. But it is also absolutely doable. It is within your reach, and you can accomplish it with a little hard work and determination.

Once you’ve decided to join me on the journey, go to this website: www.nanowrimo.org and register. The website has come a long way in recent years and provides opportunities to connect to local groups, online communities, offers articles and tips, fun little badges to click on as a way to motivate you, places to download your own inspiration (photos, pinterest boards, and playlists), and encouragement for every stage. Answer some of the questions, create a profile, and just set it up as detailed or as sparsely as you want.

Next, and I would recommend this, whether you’ve been plotting and daydreaming about this novel for years or the idea just hit you yesterday morning on the toilet…make yourself a rough outline. If you’re not sure how-search outline or plotting on my blog website and it will take you to some great articles on how to get started. I recommend at least breaking your novel into three arcs and giving a general timeline of what happens within each. This will give you direction if and when you start to falter.

Next, look at your schedule and decide when your most optimal times for writing are, and put it on your outlook or calendar as a ‘meeting’ or ‘appointment’. Don’t let it get taken over. Reserve the time so you and your family/work partners know you will be busy.

Make sure you take creative breaks (reading, watching a show, painting, whatever) and physical breaks (walks, runs, stretching and yoga, naps etc) to keep your brain fresh and engaged and your body from being too stiff or jittery.

Stock up on snacks, coffee/tea, and water. Stay hydrated and healthy, and if all you have time wise for writing is night, make sure that you’re still giving yourself plenty of time to sleep. All in all, it’s only 1667 words a day you need to write. But some days it will feel more like 1,600,000, so do what you can to control the outside forces and story blocks that might make the process harder.

That’s your homework for the next four days. Get prepped. Get ready. Get set to go. You’ve got this.

Finding Your Why to Handle Your How

Posted on by sereichert

Hey kids. It’s been an interesting couple of weeks. From a near breakdown (I have a blog on that I’m trying to work the courage up to post) to a long and quiet return to my roots, to the challenging journey into sobriety, I feel like I’m walking a strange and wobbly tightrope. Teetering between okay and falling to my death.

So here’s what I’ve been doing. Reading. And writing. And planning classes. Struggling with knitting and walking my dog, giving back to my writing community in any way I can, and being present for my kiddos. I sometimes have to make myself do the things, and fight to keep the engine running. I’m keeping my hands and my heart busy and I know that’s not always the way to healing. But its a way to keep living, and right now…that’s got to be my only focus. Living. Hanging on, by full-arm embrace or bloodied fingernails.

Let’s go back to the reading part.

I’ve been going thoughtfully through Viktor Frankl’s Man’s Search for Meaning. (I know– ‘Human’s’ search would be better, but I’m giving him grace, because I know he means us all). And it’s full of interesting and useful psychological studies and logotherapy as a means to find focus. But there’s this theme that’s been popping up, that he derives from Nietzsche, and that is when a person has a why, they can bear almost any how. And that even when we suffer, we can create of our suffering a purpose. That the suffering itself is a reason. And moving from there, we must think about our own personal meaning of life not only in total, but in every moment. Individual to us. Because without it, it doesn’t take much to drop us into a pit of despair and self-sabotage. What is our Why? Why do we exist, beyond what’s just pleasurable. What purpose do we serve in this moment and in the future?

He told stories of men in the concentration camps he was in, and their death and survival seemed to correlate (barring outside, violent factors) with whether or not they felt they had a purpose and a focus. When we have a why, we make the how possible. That when we lose hope, we start to disintegrate. More than just personal will and physical strength, it is the belief that we still have work to do.

I’m really not certain of my exact and ultimate why. I’m not sure that’s the point, and on the path to healing I’m granting grace to myself.

So instead I try to find a why in every moment. I eat better to keep my brain chemicals balanced. I work out to help my healing heart and feel strong. I kiss my children and hold them to make as many memories as I can. I write, even on days I feel drained because some days that’s when the truest thoughts come out. Some days I can only deal with one why. Some days I have the vision for all of the whys at the top of a mountain and I keep up steps towards them. Some days rest is my why….

I have important why’s in my life. Two of them to be sure, who walk on two legs and call me Bro (this generation’s affectionate ‘mom’) But beyond that (because as we know, everything in life changes and grows and evolves and we are not in homeostasis, we are in a constant state of morphing) what is buried in my own soul, the one thing I will take with me from point alpha to point omega, is not always clear. (Did I just mix German philosophers and Greek lettering systems? Maybe…it’s late.)

I could say writing, but its more than that, isn’t it? Because writing is storytelling, and storytelling is communication, and communion with other humans, and touching an empathetic center that says, I see you. I am you. I understand fear and love and the need to belong, and I will sit with you in all of these moments. Maybe it’s not so lofty and introspective as that. Perhaps its just kindness. Human compassion. Love. Who knows, that’s a 6 hour drive by yourself kind of question.

Ultimately, I find some why in every day. All the better if it lights even the smallest flame in an otherwise dark world.

What’s yours? Beyond the physical or environmental. Beyond your skill or your education. What drives you to wake up in the morning? To get up. To keep putting on pants and brushing your teeth.

Think about it this week. What’s your Why? What will make any how bearable?

Pssst…Hey Kid, Do You…NaNo?

Posted on by sereichert

It’s that beautiful time of year again. When the leaves turn from green to brilliant oranges and bright yellows. The air turns crisp and the days beg us rest with the early setting of the sun. It means right around the corner of October will be the holidays, the hustle and bustle (and ensuing anxiety). But somewhere, wedged between this magical era of slowing into repose, and the mad dash to satisfy a ridiculous sense of commercialism, lies an opportunity. To sit down, carve out time, and *hopefully* write that novel that’s been tickling your gray matter for too long a time.

If you’ve never tried National Novel Writing Month, you’re not alone. I know brilliant writers who have shrugged it off as gimmicky or too much pressure. I know nervous neophyte writers who can’t even contemplate producing a novel in 30 days. Some don’t think they have the time. Some worry they will ‘fail’. Some might even worry that they’ll succeed (then what? I’ll have to edit it? Sell it? Pull my hair out over reviews? Who am I? Stephen Frickin King? no. you’re not.)

But if you’ve ever wondered what it would be like to sit down and face those fears and insecurities and test your wits as a writer, consider this your gentle push from someone who cares about your words and your voice in this world.

NaNoWriMo feels daunting in part, because many people think they need to produce a fully functioning, ready-to-read novel in 30 days. They know (as they should) that it will not be perfect and so why bother? But I’m here to tell you from over 10 years of experience in the process, that NaNo is actually about producing the hottest mess of a manuscript you can. The Absolute WORST. And that is why we bother.

Because a hot mess of a first draft…can be edited. A blank page, cannot.

You see, it’s not about a perfect draft, it’s just about words, strung together, that tell a story. It’s about taking off the binding of expectation and polish, and letting your creativity go braless. Free. Unrestrained. Bouncing all over the place. That’s what NaNo is. It’s permission to explore, play, and pretend. When do we get that as adults? Practically never.

So, if you’re thinking of trying out the challenge, I encourage you to sign up here. I’ll be offering a few more tips in the coming weeks AND I’ll be hosting a CRASH COURSE in NaNo on October 28th with the Writing Heights Writers Association. It’s running concurrent with a great class by Amy Rivers on Suspense (she knows, trust me). Here’s the link to register. You can attend in person or on-line from anywhere. I’ll be walking you through the basics, giving you inspiration and helpful tips, and resources for staying strong throughout the month.

Isn’t it about time you wrote that book? I mean really, we’re not promised another goddamn day…so don’t wait to do the things you’ve filed under “someday”. Worst case, you learn something about yourself, you get to write, and you find a community. Best case, you get all of that, and a first draft. What you do with it after is completely up to you. But to have it out, in the world? There’s no better feeling than that.

I’ll also be blogging about some things in the next coming weeks to help you prepare and posting weekly inspiration during November to keep your spirits up.

Go register. You’re not getting younger and the world needs your voice.

What’s Happening?

Posted on by sereichert

Hey kids, just a quick little catch up blog to let you know some things going down, and give you a heads up for some events. Also–A poem.

First, a huge thank you to Bookmarked Literary Festival in Lander, Wyoming. The organizers, sponsors, and community made it such a memorable and fun event. It’s a beautiful thing when readers and writers can come together and share their joy of literature and their support for all voices. I was so impressed by the participating writers and poets and the new voices and fresh perspectives I heard.

If you don’t have a festival like this in your town, talk to your librarians and local writers. Now, more than ever, we need people who love books and the people who believe in reading them instead of banning them. No one who ever banned a book, in the history of the world, was on the right side of things. And as writers and readers, it’s our duty to protect the free flow of ideas to be written and words to be read. Free will gives everyone a choice as to what they read, we have no right to take away the choice of someone else.

Um…what else? Oh! I have some books coming out!

Composing Laney It should be up for presale soon and book signing dates will be forthcoming. I also have a new saccharine holiday short called Rewriting Christmas with Kerrie Flanagan. If you like Hallmark and a bit of my snark, you’ll probably like it. I’ll be posting the cover reveal soon on that one. I have a new Vella out The Three Hearts of Eve which is a quick-reading adventure into the perils of genetics, assassins, and free will. It’s about to heat up, so don’t miss out. And remember the first three are free!

As always you can find my other novels, poetry anthologies and writings here on the site, at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and 5 Prince Publishing.

The LAST thing to announce is that my Youth Writing group will be participating in an Anthology due out in 2024. These talented kiddos are learning the ropes from writing to publishing and everything in between. If you know a youth who wants to be a writer (or is one), between the ages of 12-17+, send them the link here: WHWA Youth Writers. We’re still in need of entries for the anthology that will be published in May or late June. All writers will be paid for accepted submissions, and any proceeds from book sales will go directly back into the youths’ writing group for supplies, trips, and conference fees. It’s free to sign up with the youth program and there are no requirements except to enjoy the writing and be kind to one another.

Whew!

And now… Poetry

You Needn't

You needn't worry about me anymore
I'm quite moved on
without you

I've folded up my broken heart
and stuffed it in a drawer
with all my too tight sweaters
and kindergarten art work

things once mine
that do not fit any more

You needn't try to pretend we are friends
or play my sympathies
with your most recent tragedy

I've washed those away
with the news of your betrayal

down the drain they spiraled
to settle in the dark and moldy pipes
where such sympathies belong

You needn't worry for me anymore
I am an empty vessel
properly left to collect dust
on someone else' shelf

a picture of once beautiful,
chipped and worn
and waiting for something worthy
to fill me up again.

Learning to Say Yes Again

Posted on by sereichert

Gentle readers, its been a tough 9 months to say the least. In all actuality, it’s probably been more like a tough year. Year and a half? The point is, I can’t remember feeling good, and so this haze of depression and anxiety has been with me for too long a while. It transcends my short term memory cut off date.

Photo by Evelyn Chong on Pexels.com

That’s not to say wonderful things haven’t happened this year. They have. I’m eternally grateful for the opportunities and experiences I’ve been given (and earned). But all totalled, this last year has been the equivalent of having half my heart ripped out while the other half worked in vain to make up the difference. It was doable, it was survivable, but it wasn’t living.

Time may not heal all things, but time gives you the tools to learn how to go on living despite your losses, and the perspective to help you learn from those losses. In that period of learning and readjustment, I didn’t do a lot of saying yes. Only when absolutely necessary. Only when I couldn’t afford not to. And rarely to things that threatened to open the stitches of my past wounds. I just didn’t believe I was strong enough to suffer that kind of blood loss. I was barely strong enough to make it through the benign and even the enjoyable events of my post-loss world.

Photo by George Shervashidze on Pexels.com

But a few weeks ago, I said yes. To something I thought I’d never be able to do. A small step. Hardly a big deal for most people on the outside of my traumatic experience, but kind of an epic ordeal for me. And it brought up a lot of feelings and emotions and tugged at those stitches, now solidly grown into my heart and skin…but it did not tear them. And it did not sign a contract, and it did not change my mind about certain things. But it wasn’t as painful as I thought it would be, as I feared it would be. It wasn’t impossible.

That one yes, opened opportunity. Not to go backwards, by any means, but to have the choice to go forwards. Sometimes saying yes, reminds us of our ability, our strength, and the experience we earned through going through some kind of awful shit, that leaves us stronger and more prepared to set boundaries and protect ourselves.

Photo by Stijn Dijkstra on Pexels.com

I’m saying yes more now. Yes, to events I would have bypassed before, yes to opportunities and possibilities. Yes to challenges that keep me from being stagnant. Yes to moving on. Yes to resting when I need to rest, and yes to pushing my comfort level when I’ve grown too at ease.

Yes to myself. To my future, to the things that I want as part of my distant horizon. I’m leaving the no’s behind me. The ones that showed me what wasn’t meant for me. What didn’t deserve me. I’m leaving behind old hurts, but taking the scars to remind me. How strong I am. How capable I am, How I own the capacity to say yes, and mean it.

The Tumultuous Writer’s Mind

Posted on by sereichert

I’ve struggled with a post this week. Either to launch into some deft and cuttingly beautiful poetry, or as Melanie Griffith once said in “Working Girl” to hit you with my smarts. I don’t have a lot of poetry or smarts today. Sorry.

Life has been chocked full of events. Some of them are little, and benign. Some of them seem like…not a big deal, but they rift something deep within the surface and you end up spending the week dealing with the ripples that have become tsunamis. Part drowning, part relishing the destruction of old temples and ideals that held you for far too long in subjecation. In any case…you start to question, where you’re at. What you’re doing? Are you living well? Are you loving well? Are you taking all the advantage of this one wild life? Or are you… stagnant? Have you slept too long in comfort and stopped fighting for something…far greater? Have you given up truth and freedom for discomfort for blissful ignorance?

And why not? Out of fear? Out of habit? Out of…this is how it’s always been and why should I wish more for myself?

It’s hard. As humans. As writers. To trust our own individual worth. Our creativity. What we offer the world. Why does it even matter in dark and vast sea of a million different voices?

Especially when cookie cutter, and formulamatic fiction seems to be the thing that draws in the most eyes… Well…shit I don’t know. There’s very little money in truth. There’s very little fame or fortune in telling the general masses something interesting and thought provoking and…god help us…challenging to their idiom. Please, as the Briar Rabbit once cried, don’t throw me into the thorn bush…Please don’t make me…think…

Is there room for the artist in this world? Is there room for the intellectual? The person disconnected from the constant spin and pizzaz of what constitutes journalism and entertainment (trick question, there’s no difference between the two now) these days. Is there room in the world for the person who chooses to turn of their screens and the voices and the barrage of constant, dumbing down information to sit still…and think… and write? About an original idea, about the absolute absurdity of life? To write something that makes us think? When was the last time you read such a thing? Such a strange soul-stirring thing? When was the last time you sat in silence, and contemplated the idea that in your not-so-distant-past, your brain kept you alive in a world full of real dangers and still managed to tell a decent story. That you were designed…for far better things. Not monetary, not status related. But…soul worth…When did you last wonder if all of this noisy bullshit was beneath you? Because I’m pretty sure it is.

I am weary of this world. It holds so little that matters. It has become so much neon pink and drowning narcissism.

I don’t have a blog for you.

I’m too busy thinking. On my own. Observing, with eyes, not videos. Listening to all perspectives, shouting to be heard… And even if I had something worthwhile to tell you, about you, your existence, about the white washed reality you’ve been fed, all the anxieties they’ve readily given you to keep you engaged on numbing little pills, I’m not sure anybody is ready to listen.

What’s in a Name?

Posted on by sereichert

Good morrow sweet readers. Today I’m going to talk about the importance of names in your fictional writing. Every writer has a process, and some of them are very organic while others are tortuous. I have been in both of those phases. Sometimes a character is just who they say they are when they pop into my head. And even if I wanted to change the name, I couldn’t. Sometimes the same character goes through an evolution of two to three (to seven–jesus, Elle Sullivan) names before the right one lands.

So how do we do it? Well… Here’s a bullet list because… we love bullet lists. Keep in mind that a character can be named for one of these reasons or for a combination of them.

  • Naming your character with meaning
    • This is where we get into the baby name sites and books and start with a meaning and back search what names correlate. I’ve done this a lot with my more urban fantasy/paranormal characters. I’m pretty sure none of my readers go around looking up the name and finding the little easter egg of their arc and purpose matching up. I do it more for me.
  • Naming your character Regionally/In Situ
    • Naming your character something that originates from their homeland, family, or region. This is important in some cases, to ‘show’ the reader a little bit about who they are by where they came from (like dialect but in a word).
  • Naming your character with sound
    • I think this is especially important in childrens’ and middle grade books. Lemony Snicket, Severus Snape, Skippyjon Jones. Not only does it make it more fun to read outloud but if you do your job right, you can intonate character with name. Severus Snape, ‘esses’ like a snake on your tongue.
  • Naming your character in tribute
    • There’s absolutely nothing wrong with this when it is done out of love and respect. My grandma Emma became Em. I even inadvertently wrote in a dear friend’s mother, Carmen into Back to the 80s. I know a Jamie, and love the name and fella but since it would be weird to write him as the MC, I made sure it was ‘Jameson’ in Composing Laney. I’ve used friend’s last names or nicknames. Sometimes its a way to pay tribute to them and be a little lazy.
  • Naming your character for foreboding
    • Gage in Pet Cemetery. Hodor from the Game of Thrones. Damien in The Omen. Even Remus Lupin, gave us some insight into the direction of the character. You can either spoil plot twists with this one or make your readers stop mid page to gasp at your cleverness. The trick is subtlety and not thing more than the name away before the twist. It could even be that an evil name (Severus Snape) is actually not attached to a villian.

Well, there you go. A few ways to start thinking (and probably overthinking if you’re like me) about how to name your next character. For a few more resources, check out the list below. Some of these are way more in depth than I like to go, some are fun and you can just keep spinning the wheel until the right one comes up. Good luck out there.

  1. Masterpiece
  2. Fantasy
  3. Listophile
  4. The Story Shack
  5. Reedsy Villains

Poetry 8-10-2023

Posted on by sereichert

Good morning all.

I took a little break from the interconnected world of social media this week, but despite that little vacay, I’m still not feeling up to par. At first I thought I was approaching burnout. That I needed a reset. But the truth is, after self-reflecting…I’m past the point. So far past, that I’ve built up a whole township on the far end of it. I think for the last year I’ve been operating in the midst of burnout…just digging myself deeper into a hole of meeting demands I had no energy for. And now, I’m, smack dab in the middle of my own little cavernous oubliette.

I don’t have sunlight, or stars to navigate by, and the walls are much too steep and slick to entertain hopes of climbing out. So…I’m going to sit here, in the dark for awhile. Contemplate my purpose. My next move, if any.

Here’s a poem I wrote months ago. Seemed appropriate on a day such as this. A week. A month.

Last Day

If this is the last of my days
will I have done enough?
loved enough?
Fought enough?
   smiled
    and danced
      and kissed enough?

Did I hold their hands long enough?
   Did I forgive?

Did I let go so much
   of this useless weight?
      to travel light into the next world?

What are the chains I regret most?

The lack of wonder in my eyes
   a boredom with the world
      a seeing through of everyone's angles?
  
Or is it the rusted and heavy links
 cutting in tetanus scrapes 
   boring out the sinking pit
      dark nemesis, regret?

That I was unkind
   to myself.
That I gave away heartbeats
    to the undeserving?

That I don't remember 
the last time 
   I told you
      that I loved you?

If this is the last of my days
   will I have done enough?
      Loved enough?
        Fought enough?

For them?
For myself?

Process and Perfection

Posted on by sereichert
Photo by Gu00fcl Iu015fu0131k on Pexels.com

Look at us, surviving (nearly?) another summer, a Camp NaNoWriMo, and one of the most interesting and invested writer’s strikes in a while. I’m so proud of those on picket lines and, though I still produce my blog, I do so for the other writers out there, and for my own sanity. That being said, if you’re a writer, artist, (struggling or not) or simply someone who believes in the arts, keep your eyes and your voices raised. This battle is one that is fought on every screen, newspaper, and blog post. Support all of our artists and dreamers. Because creativity is not just the source of our humanity, it is the building blocks of our survival. Engineers build bridges but someone must first imagine the bridge. You know what I mean? Survival takes all the bright and brilliant we can offer as species, so support all the bright and brilliant with a living wage, and do not pay into the corporate machine.

Okay–let me just….step down from that…soap…box (grunt). Now! Where was I? Well, I’ve been promoting and reviewing and doing all sorts of extraneous writing/marketing fluff, so today I wanted to get back to writing and talk about PROCESS.

If you’re a writer, I know you own at least three to 50 books on writing. And every single one of those offers you advice, usually from someone who “made it” in the world. We could say “experts” in the field. And where, yes, there are some constants that should be paid attention to (the book won’t write itself, you do have to put in the time, no its not easy, yes you will fail…repeatedly) I want you to take my advice (Ha! hypocrite!) on these few things…

Why take my advice? I’m not Stephen King, or Dan Brown, or Robin McKinnley, or Connie Willis…Who TF do I think I am? Well, beyond the fact that I’m a pretty average writer, with a good community, and an interesting background…I care. I actually care about your success as a writer (see above rant about artists and creatives).

And the thing about us, is that no single writer is in the same life or head space as the next. Stephen King isn’t raising two toddlers and working full time. Connie Willis isn’t supporting a family of seven with a night shift job. I’m not trying to cope with dyslexia or ADHD… We are all on a similar journey but we’re not all wearing the same shoes. Some of us may not even have shoes. And it may be night. And there are wolves chasing us…okay…back on point…

  1. PROCESS ISN’T AN ABSOLUTE: No singular way to write is the RIGHT way to write. (that’s a lot of goddamn ‘right/writes’) Write everyday, write in the morning, write at night, sit in the chair and don’t come out until you’ve got 5,000 words…NO. There’s absolutely no truth to any of this. While, you do have to write (to be a writer) how and when are defined by your life, your energy, your day, and your ability. And ALL of those factors continually change (especially if you’re a parent or care giver, work multiple jobs, have learning challenges or are facing mental health crises). SO–your process is your process and it might look like 15 minutes in the morning and 20 minutes at lunch, and note taking during your kid’s practice, and daydreaming in the bath. Which leads me to the next absolute.
  2. NOT ALL WRITING IS WRITING: WTF does that mean? Well, daydreaming, is writing, downtime with a movie that inspires you, is part of writing. Getting a good night’s sleep and going for a walk are all parts of the writing process. The human brain is not meant to be stimulated the same way for hours on end. It’s complex, it needs variety. It needs challenge, it needs downtime. Nearly every writer I know has said…”It wasn’t until I took a break, and a walk that I got through that problem.” You can’t bash your brains against a plotline and hope the hole gets fixed. Being a writer is in large part being a shiftless daydreamer. So don’t discount the times you’re not in the chair clacking away.
  3. ONLY YOU SET YOUR LIMITS: This is both to the advancement and detriment of your craft. Someone says you should write 2000 words every day, but you are struggling to get 700, or maybe you’re throwing down 5000 words in one afternoon and don’t write for a few days…You are responsible for the ‘rules’ you make about writing and only you know the best possible route. I have a lovely friend, brilliant, funny and talented, who struggled with her first book, until she realized that she didn’t need to write every day. And that night writing wasn’t her thing and that she had to ‘let’ herself be okay with what her brain and her heart needed on whatever day the universe was giving her. Brav-Fucking-O I say to that. How many of us ascribe to preordained writing gospel only to be disappointed that we are failing that particular process? And what happens when we get discouraged? We stop writing. We fall into self-blame, and defeatism, and a general giving-up on ourselves and our work because we’re not a ‘real writer’. KNOW YOURSELF, TRUST YOURSELF. GIVE YOURSELF THE TOOLS, SPACE, and PROCESS YOU NEED.

Well, that’s all I have for today. Get out there, or go inside, sit down or walk around and take voice notes. Take a bath, take a walk, spend three hours at a desk, or fifteen minutes at a coffee shop. Just write. In the best way you know how.

Book Launch and Something Fun

Posted on by sereichert

Hi kids…

Just a friendly reminder that my writing partner and I will be at Totally 80’s Pizza here in Fort Collins for our book (Back to the 80s) launch, next Tuesday (August 1st) at 6 pm. There will be prizes for best 80s costumes, giveaways for trivia, and books for sale! Also, we’ll be rocking some utterly disgusting neon so… come and at least laugh at me. Maybe buy a book while you’re there. (AND enjoy some pretty good pizza and all the amazing nostalgia that Totally 80’s offers)

The book release for Granting Katelyn is the same day as Back to the 80s, and since I can’t be both morose and Scottish and 80s Retro Bright at the same time, I’ll be hosting that launch in September. Stay tuned for details on that and a possible get together after the signing.

That’s the news that’s coming up soon. I’m currently making arrangements for a book tour up in Wyoming in November (may the road and weather gods smile on me) and so far only have the set date of November 21st at the Saratoga Branch of the Public Library. I will have all three of The Sweet Valley Series Available (signed) and will give a little talk about the books, the characters and how the state shapes great stories. More of that to come.

But–because I don’t just want to sell you books (in neon and blue eyeliner nonetheless) here’s a little flash fiction piece to entertain. It’s, as Monty Python would say, something completely different. Enjoy!

Demon-O’s

The day I summoned the demon was a normal Tuesday. I’d been reading the back of my cereal box, as usual. Milk dripping from my bottom lip as I tried to decipher the answer of the puzzle, by reading the letters upside down. My lips spattered sugared milk, through the white bubbles as I muttered and remuttered the words. Finally convinced, I shouted them out a third time, in fluffy robe victory. And there, before my eyes, sprang up from a tear in the fabric of time a blackened corpse, tattered wings, and one broken horn. It’s eyes bored into my soul as he asked, in gravelly tones.

“What is thy bidding, master?”

The milk dribbled down the front of my batman t-shirt and soaked into my robe from my agape mouth as I tried to reason with the smell of brimstone among the vanilla, frosted sugar bombs (now with extra marshmallows!)

“I—Do I know you?”

“You have called upon me, on this day, to aid in the wreck and ruin of this failing world.” Its voice rose in melodramatic glee. I put my spoon down and considered.

“Well, I hadn’t thought about that just yet. I haven’t even finished breakfast—” The demon heaved in deepening breaths, stoking up the fire of destruction that glowed like coals being blown on inside the empty cavern of its exposed ribs.

“What is thy bidding?”

I sat back, considered for a moment. One should always think clearly when presented with the opportunity for rampant destruction. I picked my spoon back up, tapped it in the air before, folding my hands in my flannel covered lap.

“Well, I—I do have some laundry needing folded.”

The demon stared at me, head cocked to one side, a bit of ash fell from its one decaying horn, dirtying my carpet.

“Laun–dree?” its voice croaked.

“Yes. Definitely.” It was my most hated chore. If I had someone at my beck and call, I wasn’t going to waste the resource on a world already destroying itself when I had three good sized piles waiting on my bed to be folded.

The demon’s boney shoulders shrugged up to its ears, clawed hands rose up in the in the universal gesture meaning ‘what in the fresh hell is wrong with this guy?’ and a disgusted look turned its mouth and stony forehead down.

“We do not fold laun—dree.”

“Are you or are you not at my bidding?” I glowered back. The demon grumbled and a hot coal fell from its grinding teeth.

“I am.”

“Well, then. Laundry first, world domination second.” As though versed in the obstinate language of teenage defiance, the demon threw its clawed hands up into the air and rolled its glass-like eyes skyward.

“This is bullshit!”

“Whatever! Get the chores done first and then I promise we’ll go find some havoc to wreak!” I argued back. You may not know but demon sighs are punctuated with smoke and spits of sparks that float on for seconds. Still, to his credit, he trudged up the stairs all the same, even if grumbling all the way.

“And don’t forget to separate the delicates!” I poured another cup of cereal into the bowl and looked at the answer again. I’d misread it. Thrice perfect times over.

“Oh—that’s an L not an O.”