broken abbey One writer's thoughts…

21Oct/090

Down to Business

In the end, writing is like any other endeavor.  Sure, there is a significant and compelling creative aspect to it, almost mystical at times.  It doesn't just happen, though.  The magic comes through sweat and rigor.  King lays this out in his final section of On Writing.

His opinion is that there are 4 classes of writer: Bad, Competent, Good, and Genius.  He states that there are 2 theses to his book:

The first is that good writing consists of mastering the fundamentals (vocabulary, grammar, the elements of style) and then filling the third level of the toolbox with the right instruments.  The second is that while it is impossible to make a competent writer out of a bad writer, and while it is equally impossible to make a great writer out of a good one, it is possible, with lots of hard work, dedication, and timely help, to make a good writer out of a merely competent one.

The fundamentals of writing are covered in the prior section.  So, what does it take to make a competent writer into a good one?

King cuts us down to the reality of writing.  It doesn't come from dreaming, theorizing, or speculating. It comes from sitting down in the chair and whittling away at the story one word at a time.

I won't pretend that I found a lot of new advice in here.  Much of what King recommends is pretty common; but, as I've said before, if so many writers repeat the same advice, there must be truth in it.

Most writers will find the following advice familiar. However, King continues throughout to provide excellent examples, so while the advice is common, the book is worth reading for the additional clarity he provides.

Read a lot. Both good writing and bad writing can teach us a lot.

Write a lot.  "A lot" is a subjective measure, and varies from writer to writer. Each writer must discover this on their own.

Develop a Work Ethic.  Have a schedule, have a place.  These two things help to build the habit by providing a comfort zone in which to work and a target to work towards. King shoots for 2,000 words per day. I shoot for 500, but expect to increase to 1,000 after the first of the year. Do I make my mark? Not always. But I am improving.

Regarding the place, King suggests one with a door the writer is willing to close. I agree. Shutting the door is a way for the writer to show commitment and dedication, both to themselves and the people around. It should be simple and free of distraction.

What to Write?  Whatever the writer wants, but he/she must be truthful. King says to interpret "write what you know" as broadly as possible. King also warns against writing for the wrong reasons: to impress people, to make money, etc.

According to King, novels consist of 3 parts: narration, description, and dialog.

  • King works from a situational root, letting plot develop organically as he works through the narration of a first draft.  In his mind, stories are things we uncover, and we have to take care in unearthing them, making sure they are extracted as complete and intact as possible.

  • Description should be done in moderation.  Trust the reader to fill in the gaps and provide their own meaningful context and details where appropriate.  "...good description usually consists of a few well-chosen details that will stand for everything else."  Keep the ball rolling, tell the story.  Good description is clarity, fresh images and simple vocabulary.

  • Dialog is essential to defining character.  We get to know them through how the talk.  Good dialog is partially how it sounds.  It must be honest. It must go beyond the page and ring true to the ear.

The writer builds character by paying attention to real people and telling the truth about what he / she sees.  King believes the best stories are character-driven, ties back to his belief in plot coming from the process, not an outline created ahead of time.

Description, dialogue, and character are foundational.  The rest is available, it's up to the writer to discover what improves the writing and doesn't inhibit the story. I can appreciate this. It's clear that King has his own preferences and biases when it comes to writing, but here gives other writers the same license. Once a writer masters the fundamentals, they are free to use the remaining tools at their own discretion, to leverage them as they see appropriate for the work.

King elaborates further on symbolism and theme as demonstration of what's available for use. In themselves, neither is essential to the writing process, but he shows how he has used them successfully in his own revision process. He demonstrates problems each one helped him resolve, and how they can provide a useful framework for revision.

King recommends that all beginning writers go through at least 2 drafts; one with the door closed, one with the door open.

The first draft and revision, the one with the door closed, is an outpouring onto the page.  Tell the story, get it all down in black and white.  Let the story sit, King recommends, for 6 weeks.  Let is sit long enough to forget about it, to get immersed in a new project.  Then revise, concentrating on the mechanics. The writer should ask if the story is coherent, figure out what they meant, and take notes on these. The writer will use them in the second draft. This is internal feedback.

The second draft is done with the door open. This is the point where the writer shares the story with a select few people to get external feedback. King doesn't use the term, but these are the beta readers. King stresses the importance of listening to these people, but to balance out the feedback each gives against the others. If every Beta Reader says the story has a certain problem, then pay attention and do something about it. However, if the response is mixed, any ties are up to the writer.

The beta readers are also the best way to gauge the story's pacing. King brings out a formula he received early on in his career: 2nd Draft = 1st Draft - 10%. He learned from this to collapse a story during revision, to cut out the 'boring' parts. He focuses on back story as one keep place to collapse a novel. Essentially, don't bore the reader.

Research is something far in the background, as far as King is concerned. It's something that can happen after the first draft and should never get in the way of telling the story. It's another place to trust the Beta Readers, too. Do it to keep small details from distracting the reader, but it can come towards the end of the revision process.

King goes on to express his doubts about the usefulness of writing classes. He finds a couple redeeming qualities for them: they are one place where writing is taken seriously, and they provide another source of income for the working writers who lead them. But, by and large, he feels they contradict with the idea of writing with the door closed, that all-important act of getting the story out unhindered.

King addresses other topics such as agents, whether he does it for the money (no), and provides a more personal account of how writing helped him through recovery after being struck by an automobile. All worth the read, but not essential to what I found most useful from this section.

For me, this section read like a set of instructions on where to account for each fear a writer encounters. I find it easy to get overwhelmed by all the different concerns a writer must address as part of the creation process, and I firmly believe that fear lies at the core of "writer's block". I realize now that each concern has its place and time. The first draft should be carefree, an outpouring of the story itself in an act of discovery. Stop worrying about the details. The mechanics are addressed in the first revision, along with note taking on all the stuff that little voice inside wanted to say during the first draft. Other concerns can be addressed on subsequent drafts, and at least one draft should be dedicated to what other people have to say. Good writing comes from good rewriting. That's not an unfamiliar concept either, but I have to reiterate that the unique thing King provided is excellent demonstration of all these concepts.

18Oct/090

Tools of the Trade

In part two of On Writing, King gives an overview of what he considers the essential tools for every writer's toolbox.  The analogy is interesting, and the story he provides at the start demonstrates an excellent point: Always have all your tools with you so you can tackle any unexpected situation.

So what goes in this metaphorical toolbox?

The first layer consists of common tools.  The most common tool, per King, is vocabulary.  It's something we all have to varying degrees.  I really appreciate King's take on vocabulary, which is essentially, learn to use what you have and don't worry about developing more.  Your vocabulary develops as a by-product of reading.  All writers are readers first, right?

The other common tool is grammar, and it goes on the top along with vocabulary.  He covers two fundamental issues in grammar: passive voice, and use of adverbs.  These are pretty common topics in discussions of grammar.  His reason for the mistakes really got me thinking.  He attributes both mistakes to a form of fear.  For passive voice, King thinks that timid writers use passive voice because it's safe and because it lends some sort of authority to their writing.  Adverbs, on the other hand, come from the writer's fear of being unclear.  King believes that "fear is at the root of most bad writing."  Good writing is about letting go of fear.

The second layer in the toolbox contains style.  Aside from the usual reference book recommendation, King concentrates on the paragraph as a good measure of style.  How the writer uses it to break up the page and follow the beats of the story can show the difficulty of reading the work.  Easy reading has short paragraphs and white space, hard reading looks dense.  In fiction, the paragraph requires less structure than in other writing.  He compares it to talking, and its use can be an act of seducing the reader.  It's the music the writer hears in his/her head.  He says that the paragraph is the basic unit of writing, and that to learn it well is to learn the beat.

King also talks about commitment throughout this section, and how a writer's first goal should be to help the reader out.  Words have weight, they take a lot of work to put together, and can demand a lot from a reader to digest.  In writing, we must be considerate and mindful of the reader, always working towards clarity and  brevity, to keep the reader from drowning in a sea of words.

King wraps up by talking about the third layer, which is to write real fiction.  Stop the fear, build your works as a carpenter builds a house, one brick or board at a time.  Build your writing with the basics, and you can build whatever you like.

That's it for the toolbox.  I think King does an excellent job of reminding us as writers just how far basic skills will take you.

Learn the basics, lose the fear.

17Oct/090

A Fogged-Out Landscape

It's wonderful how much we can learn from stories, particularly when well told.  Stephen King spends the first part of his book, On Writing, by walking the reader through a series of 'fogged-out' memories.  The book itself is about writing.  But he sets the stage by doing what he does best, and tells the story of what made him what he is today.

I can't say if it was intentional on his part, but in telling what he considers his "C.V.", King demonstrates a series of important lessons that were critical in shaping him.  Notice I said demonstrate.  I think this is, perhaps, one of the first aspects he teaches us.  His book is about writing, but instead of listing out a series of lessons, he shows us what he learned and how he learned it.  It is a vehement adherence to the old adage of "show, don't tell".  I've read too many books and articles on writing that do little more than list out rules or guidelines or maxims or adages or aphorisms or whatever word you want to use.  But, in the end, they're nothing more than a handful of words on a page that leave the reader with little more than a sense that there's something to memorize.  There's no feeling in the lessons they impart, no connection to the reader.  Just rules.

I also think that each person who reads his book will come away with different insights based on how they relate King's stories to themselves.  I'll recount what I learned from this, but by no means is this an exhaustive list of lessons to be found.  It's one of those things that you simply must read for yourself in order to get at the real value.

Humor and Horror are very close cousins.  As writers, we don't necessarily need to avoid one in favor of the other.  King emphasizes that having a sense of humor is important.  Rather, we need to be aware of both and conscious of when we cross the line between the two.  He learned this (sort of) early on from his experience with a baby sitter who would fart on his face.  Boy could I relate - for me, it was my brother.  He also tells the story of how he was cut off the list for being in Honor Society due to his sense of humor, and how he's happy to have humor over prestige any day.

Good ideas don't come from some common place that we must learn to tap.  For him, they come from taking two unrelated things and putting them together.  He demonstrates this by discussing how the ideas for several of his stories appeared.  This is pretty common advice anymore, but I think he does a really good job of demonstrating it.

Even Stephen King felt shame about his writing.  I just can't imagine this guy ever being ashamed of his writing, but he lays it out.  Early on, there were people in his life, authority figures, who thought that writing horror was a waste of his talent.  That shame stuck with him for a while.  There's always going to be someone who will try to make you feel bad about your ability to create and how you choose to use it.  Don't let it keep you down.  That's a tough one to deal with.  I know I've experienced shame, I even tried to set my desire to write aside, chalk it up to some sort of childish endeavor.  But it caught up with me.  There's misery in letting other people manipulate you through shame.

The first draft of a story is you telling it to yourself.  The second draft and beyond are you telling it to someone else.  This is one I personally struggle with.  The perfectionist in me wants to do it right the first time and be done with it.  I have no idea why that's part of my personality.  I suppose, if I look at my parents, there's something of a perfectionist in each of them.  But it's also not fair for me to attribute that to them at my age.  I think part of it is also living in the 9 to 5 culture.  When someone is paying you by the hour, they're not inclined to just let you try until you get it right.  I've also read that perfectionism is a form of fear, a way of delaying the end of something.  Sounds weird, but okay, I guess it's possible.  Whatever the reason, the important thing is that I'm aware of it now, and I can work on giving myself permission to use the first draft to tell myself the story.  Then I can go back and rewrite it for everyone else.

King gets into this idea of work ethic, which is not something I've every really heard directly associated with writing (or any creative endeavor).  It's more than just perseverance.  He talks about a poem his wife wrote when they were still in school.  Part of what made the poem so appealing to him was that, in a time when people were just writing crap out of thin air (my words, not his), she constructed a poem with intent and full understanding of what she was trying to accomplish.  I can really relate to this.  My undergraduate work involved several poetry writing classes.  I saw my fair share of words thrown together with disregard to craft.  I did my fair share, as well.  In the long run, it's unsatisfying for everyone involved.

During a rough period in his life, when he was working hard and felt like he was just repeating his mother's life, King finds himself thinking that that isn't what his life was supposed to be.  I suppose at one time or another we may all think this, and he admits as much.  The difference, and this isn't anything unique to writing, is that King did something about it.  Even when the writing was hard, when it came infrequently, and the day-to-day drained his life away, he never gave up.  This is a quality most successful people share, and I think it also relates to work ethic.  Never give up.

Even from the start, King had emotional support.  His mother encouraged him, and later on, his wife encouraged him.  This isn't advice for the writer, but for those around him or her.  King sums it up: "Just believing is usually enough."

King gives background on the story of Carrie.  He drafted three single-spaced pages of the novel, and then threw them away.  His wife recovered them later, and encouraged  him to work on it (there's the support), but what I found really interesting is why he threw those pages away in the first place.  He gives four reasons, and provides them in order from least important to most important:

  1. It didn't move him emotionally.
  2. He didn't like the lead character.
  3. He wasn't comfortable with the setting or the all-female cast of characters.
  4. The story wouldn't pay off unless it was pretty long - longer than what the men's magazine market supported at the time.  He didn't think he could sell it.

Look at that list again - it speaks volumes about King's work ethic and his sense of writing as a business.  The least important thing on his list was that it didn't move him emotionally.  The most important was whether or not he could sell it.  It turns out that he was wrong about #4, but the point is, it was at the forefront of his mind when writing.  He treated it as a career, it was a source of income for him and his family, not some esoteric activity he did on the side.  I suppose some might think these priorities aren't in the right order, but I think they are.  In order to be an author, one must recognize and engage in writing as a business as well as a creative endeavor.  Writing a book is easy.  Sit down and bang away at a keyboard until you've produced somewhere between 50,000 and 200,000 words.  That doesn't make you an author, although it's good practice and a necessary part.  Sit down and do the same thing with all the awareness and intent of one doing business, producing something that has market value, and now you're an author.  It doesn't have to be a big market, but in the end, authorship comes through sales.  Okay, so I guess the first time through is for yourself, as discussed above.  But, it must be refined into marketable material.

King wraps up his C.V. with the story of his battle with drugs and alcohol.  Through it all, he kept writing.  In retrospect, it's clear that many of the works he produced were related to this battle.  Some are more direct than others.  Part of writing fiction is developing metaphors for life, revealing truths through lies.  But in discussing his drug abuse and how his works relate to it, King gives a spectacular demonstration of fiction as a metaphor.  More importantly, though, is that King shows us that his fiction contains metaphors for his life.  That, I think, is key.  It's a combination of the idea of metaphor and the idea of writing what you know.  Your work will likely contain metaphors for your own life, and getting in touch with those personal metaphors can help develop both your work and you.

There's a little section after his C.V. called "What Writing Is".  Kings spends just a few pages on the subject, but they provided an immense amount of clarity to me.  One of my problems is getting caught up in details.  I think it must be related to the perfectionist in me, but at times I think it's also a form of procrastination.  Somewhere I read that writing is about the half-described gesture, and King says as much.  King describes writing as a form of telepathy, and that what's important is the message, not the details.  Trust the receiver / reader to know what you're talking about, that a cage need only be described as a cage if it's not the core of the message.  He closes the section with some noteworthy advice:

Come to [the page] any way but lightly.  Let me say it again: you must not come lightly to the blank page.

...If you can take it seriously, we can do business.  If you can't or won't, it's time for you to close the book and do something else.

I'm here to take it seriously.

15Oct/090

“On Writing… oh, to hell with it.

The last section of "On Writing Horror" is all about the business aspect of being a writer.  It provides a nice overview of the current markets, good resources for research and promotion, and some worthwhile advice from editors and writers alike.

Here's the advice I'm taking right now, given by Night Shade Books:

Write what you think is your best book.  Put it in a trunk and write another one.  Do this four times.  Then start sending your novels out for submission.

So, while it's never to early to build awareness about the market, right now I'm focusing on building my writing skills.  If there's nothing to sell, there's nothing to market.

Oh, and the afterword by Harlan Ellison - quite cool.

I'm done with this book, moving on to the next.

15Oct/090

“On Writing Horror” – Part Seven

Part 7 of On Writing Horror is titled "Genre and Subgenre", but the 10 articles also cover concerns with medium as well (screenplay, theater, audio).

Archetypes and Fearful Allure: Writing Erotic Horror, Nancy Kilpatrick

I really struggled with this one.  Kilpatrick seems to rely heavily on the concept of Archetypes, and the just of her advice can be summed up in the following quote:

This means that the energy embedded in the image resonates with all readers because it taps into and stirs up the collective unconscious.

I don't see anything practical in that sort of advice.  I mean, conceptually, it's a neat way of thinking about it - Archetypes as a framework for developing characters can be useful.  But, I didn't find any truly functional advice in here.

A few other things bothered me.  She makes a pretty bold statement when she addresses the balance between Erotic and Horror in a single story: "The story needs to perform on both levels equally."  My problem is, this is a black and white statement.  The story works if it achieves and appropriate balance, not by achieving 100% equality on each side.

The rest of the article reiterated a lot of the same things as the other.  Reinforcement of good ideas, but nothing really new or useful to me personally.

Writing for the New Pulps: Horror-Themed Anthologies, John Maclay

This one interested me.  I always thought Anthologies were 'invite only' publications.  Goes to show how little I know about the publishing world.  Anyhow, Maclay and the editors he interviewed make some good cases for working with anthologies.

  • They are geared to sell, although not necessarily in a way that authors make significant money.
  • They are an opportunity for new authors to get published next to established authors.
  • They have taken the place of the old pulp magazines, many of which are dwindling or defunt.

Never considered it as an accessible market, now I will.  I guess that's what I got from this.

Freaks and Fiddles, Banjos and Beasts: Writing Redneck Horror, Weston Ochse

Great introduction to Urban Horror.  Honestly, I've never really given much serious consideration to what exactly it is, but I really think Ochse gets to the heart of the matter.  Urban Horror is about isolation, not locale.  Urban Gothic, Brian Keene's latest novel, is a great example of this concept.  It's a standard Cannibal Clan story, along the lines of Wrong Turn or Texas Chainsaw Massacre, but it takes place in a New Jersey ghetto.  Intoday's world, that ghetto in NJ is just as isolated as the solitary farm in Appalachia.

Ochse goes on to discuss what a Redneck is, and gives a comparison of the 'stereotype' with great examples from current works.  He boils it down to a perspective on the world that's derived from the isolation, the lack of "book-learning" and a reliance on intuition.    He adds in this sort of fiction relies more heavily on dynamic characterization, but I think that's a good target regardless of subgenre.

What really spoke to me in this piece is Ochse treatment of style.  He claims that Backwoods Horror is neither genre nor subgenre, but a style.  Maybe, maybe not.  The style he goes on to describe, though, is one I've found myself striving for as of late.  He says that "imagery fails as sentence structures expand", and he cites Ed Lee as an example of strong prose through "active voice and transitive verbs."  The writer still has to describe things to the reader, but:

This is done with short, declarative sentences and strong transitive verbs.  The reader gets the image in a one-two punch instead of a long visual wrestling match.

I've found that the more I focus on achieving this style of writing, the less my work wanders.  I guess in a way it forces me to get to the point, and I think it creates a fast pace for the reader regardless of the level of action.

Youth Gone Wild, Lee Thomas (aka Thomas Pendleton)

I'm not interested in writing YA stuff, but there are some interesting observations in here.  Thomas notes that teens are in a unique point in their lives, and I don't think anyone can argue with that.  Teens are in a constant struggle, one that can serve as a metaphor for the human conditions of life and death, of movement and journey, and of loss.  These are all very powerful emotions that can serve as underpinnings for good horror.

The rest of the article covers usage of slang (sparingly, just like dialect), boundaries, and an overview of what editors look for in teen fiction.  Not interesting to me.

Writing Horror comic books - And Graphic Novels, David Campiti

This was another enlightening article.  As with anthologies, I personally never considered writing comic books.  Much of the actual writing advice in here is a rehash of ideas presented throughout with some focus on comics, but the gem is revealing how lucrative comic books actually be for a writer.

Acts of Madness: Writing Horror for the Stage, Lisa Morton

I have no interest in being a playwright.  Morton's article covers the peculiarities of being a playwright, from working with a company to the mechanics of portraying visceral horror on the stage.  But, I personally found nothing in there that would help me be a better writer.  Not a shortcoming of the article, just a mismatch of interests.

Fear Spins Off: The Tie-In Novel Comes Into Its Own, Yvonne Navarro

Tie-Ins are a long way off for me.  If ever.  Actually, probably never.  I prefer to work in my world, not someone else's.  Navarro makes it pretty clear that Tie-Ins are really only available to writers who have proven themselves, so experience and reliability are key to even getting a chance in this space.

I found it interesting that Tie-Ins are usually written just from the script.  It explains why the visualizations contained in the novel version often stray quite a bit from the movie.

The Play's the Thing on the Doorstep: Writing Video and Role-Playing Games, Richard E. Dansky

Another one I'm not interested in at this point.  I'm just trying to be a better writer!  Anyhow, writing for rpgs and video games is clearly a team sport.  Dansky does a nice job of delineating the writer's role in both processes.

Now Fear This: Writing horror for Audio Theater, Scott Hicky and Robert Madia

Another interesting medium to work with, one I might tackle some day.  What I found really interesting, although not surprising, is that dialog has to spell things out for the listener.  What makes for good dialog in print makes for terribly ambiguous audio scripting.

Hicky and Madia also make the claim that "...the time is ripe for a comeback of the genre in new and emerging media."  Okay, yes, the Internet  certainly provides a readily accessible channel for setting audio theater.  But, having an accessible channel doesn't mean this will make a comeback.  I'm not arguing against it, but I didn't see anything in the article aside from "the internet makes it so" to support this statement.  Is there an audience for it?  In the face of competition from the likes of On-Demand cable and streaming video like YouTube, is there a contingent of folks other than the nostalgic few to make and keep audio theater horror as a viable market?  I don't know, but it seems counterintuitive to me.

Good Characters and Cool Kills: Writing the Horror Screenplay, Brendan Deneen

What I got most from Deneen's article is a sense of proportion.  He covers the issues of premise, protagonist, villian, kills, second act, and conclusion, much of it similar to what's been said before.

In his discussion on Second Act and Conclusion, he gets at something not really covered.  The idea of timing (or pacing), and how it needs to be tracked and manipulated to meet audience expectation.  He talks in terms of screen time, but I think it's an important notion.  In order to keep things moving along, to keep the audience engaged in the middle, the story must have layers.  And, it's during the second act that those layers are explored and peeled back, momentarily leaving the prime horror element to explore the lives of the characters.  It's a good framework, I think, for tackling the middle of any story, not just screenplays.  The conlcusion, then, serves to tie all the layers together.  He adds that in a screenplay, the conclusion should be open-ended enough for a sequel.

One other bit Deneed pulled out that I had not put any thought into is that the protagonist and villain should have a direct connection.  When I read it, I thought, "duh".  But in considering my current work, I realized I had not made a direct connection yet between the two.  So, I got some work ahead of me.

NB: All in all, I didn't get a lot out of this section.  I think that's because it covers so much in such broad terms that there's bound to be parts that aren't of interest to all horror writers.

the Brian Keene novel I read re
11Oct/090

“On Writing Horror” – Part Six

Part 6 of On Writing Horror is titled "Tradition and Modern Times", a series of articles covering horror tradition and its place in our modern literature.

No More Silver Mirrors: The Monster in Our Times, Karen E. Taylor

Taylor addresses how the old monsters can be made new again.  She's got some good advice, and I'll get to that in a second, but there's something she says early on that is direct opposition to what at least one other author claims in this series of articles.  Taylor states:

...modern readers are more sophisticated than their parents and grandparents.  Today's readers also require credible premises and explanations; they want things to be scientifically possible.

I added the emphases.  Compare this to what Winter states in section 5:

But today, explanation, whether supernatural or rational, is simply not the business of horror fiction.

Again, I added the emphasis.  Who's right?  What's going on here?  At first blush, they do seem to contradict one another.  But, based on the advice Taylor goes into, I think they are consistent with each other.  I took Winter to mean that the modern story itself need not necessarily address the reason for the events it contains.  To me, he's speaking to whether or not the internals of the story must link to an external reason.  Taylor, on the other hand, is speaking in terms of internal consistency.

She first addresses the question of consistency and the rules of your story.  She suggests that, unless you as the writer know the rules for your 'monster', you cannot meet reader expectation and deliver a believable story.  So, whether you start with a vampire or a werewolf, you must first understand and commit to the rules of the trope.  And then, you can decide which ones to break.  But, when you break the rules, you must remain internally consistent.

The other two bits of advice she offers are to spend time in characterization of your monster and to know your reader.  I don't recall the first being addressed in any other articles, and it's good advice for the modern horror writer.  It seems that a generalization of the horror genre is the stupid, lumbering, unstoppable force of the monster, a thing to be reckoned with rather than a person to interact with.  She suggests taking the time to provide the reader with your monster's point-of-view, and that by doing so, you can help the reader better understand the internal and external processes that make this monster a possibility.  Again, the explanation lies not in locating a foundation in reality, but in creating an internally consist world where that monster can and does exist.

The part about knowing your reader is common advice, but no less important.  In the context of the article, Taylor is emphasizing that in order to create and maintain the consistency while using the venerable monsters of old, you must as a writer address the reader's expectations.  You don't have to meet the expectation, but if you're going to violate an expectation, you must create the internal consistency that will help the reader accept your violation.

Fresh Blood from Old Wounds: The Alchemist Meets the Biochemist, Joseph Curtin

I personally did not get a lot from this article, I think primarily due to its subject matter.  Curtin describes how the modern horror writer can leverage current-day science to enhance or refresh old tropes.  He cites how Dean Koontz refreshed Frankenstein in his series of books, and how Michael Crichton refreshed The Lost World with Jurassic Park.  These story achieved a freshness by enhancing the old story with current scientific thought on how the 'monsters' could be produced.

He also talks about the modern social fear is in Biotechnology, and relates that to the Cold War terror of the prior generation.

To me, this is an advocation of explaining the beast and tying it to an external plausibility.  It's good advice, but for me, it's not necessarily relevant.  My current interest and focus is in leveraging myth as a basis for horror, not leveraging science.  If and when I change focus, I'll be sure to come back and revisit this article to prime myself.

More Simply Human, Tracy Knight

Knight's article gives some great insight into characterization of personality and mental disorders.  He cites some common errors in representing these and a list of reference material that writer's can use to validate or help ensure that they're portraying these things accurately.  He also clearly states that he's not advocating the use of mental disorder, but just wants to help make sure that it is done accurately.

  • Aside from the reference material, Knight goes on to clear up a few common misconceptions.
  • Current psychotherapy goes well beyond Freud.  Know and make use of contemporary techniques.
  • Take care not to stereotype based on the reference material.  Not everyone has every symptom.
  • People who are unbalanced are, in fact, less likely to be unpredictable due to the nature of mental illness.  People with personality disorders are more rigid, predictable, and inflexible than the rest of us in terms of their perception and interactions.
  • The behavior of people with mental disorders is not without goals.  Every behavior has a goal, and they are coherent and consistent with how each of us views the world.
  • Everyone does what they believe to be their best.

Some of Knight's advice, particularly the last two, I think demonstrate that people with mental or personality disorders are still human like the rest of us.

The Possibility of the Impossible, Tom Piccirilli

This is the first time I've ever really considered the close relationship between horror and humor.  Piccirilli does a great job of demonstrating how both derive from the surreal - the juxtaposition of the normal and abnormal  Combining things in new and interesting ways also provides the writer with the ability to create new and interesting metaphors.  And that is foundational to all fiction, in my opinion.  Like Taylor, Piccirilli also stresses the importance of internal logic or consistency in creating the illusion.

Take a Scalpel to Those Tropes, W. D. Gagliani

Gagliani rehashes the previously presented ideas of combining old things in new ways to innovate and altering the rules for freshness.  What I liked about this particular article is that Gagliani uses this short piece as a practical demonstration through one of his own works. Nothing new, but it serves to reinforce some very useful ideas.

That Spectered Isle: Tradition, Sensibility, and Delivery Or Ghosts? What Ghosts?, Steven Savile

While the premise of Savile's article is about the difference between American and British horror, the real value to me is in getting yet another perspective on horror without monsters.  He gives 2 resasons for what he calls the "British Sensility":

Britain has a long history and rich heritage that is filled with ghost stories.

Brain has a heritage of "withstanding atrocities with that stubborn stiff upper lip".

What he lead to is that the most frightening things to the British audience are those that can't be seen.  So, the most frightening things are those based on internals - social ills, ghosts, stuff that can't be seen.  I think what he is driving at is that there's tremendous value for the modern horror author in working with things less tangible than the old vampires and werewolves.   I wasn't really getting a point from him until he brought up Easton Ellis's American Psycho.  It works so well because it drives the reader into the head of a madman.  Aside from the gruesome acts of the main character, being inside his head adds an element of horror beyond.

New Horrors: A Roundtable Discussion of Horror Today and Tomorrow, Joe Nassise (moderator)

I don't have much to say on this.  All four authors (Pat Tremblay, Gary Frank, Melinda Thielbar, Nate Kenyon) provide some good advice.  But it's short, so none of them really have the opportunity to delve into any one subject.  It's definitely a good read for new authors, as you can see that even here, not all authors play by the same rules or focus on the same things.  Here are the questions posed to the group:

  • What are the three most important skills a new writer should have?
  • What three pieces of advice to new writers do you not agree with?
  • What's different about the publishing industry today than when you started?  What'll happen over the next couple of years?
  • What's the value of horror to the literary community?

Like I said, interesting questions and a variety of answers (sometime contradicting one another), but nothing that I felt helped me out.

9Oct/090

“On Writing Horror” – Part Five

Part 5 of On Writing Horror is titled "Horror, Art, Innovation, Excellence".  Five articles.  Actually, 4 articles and one interesting interview with Harlan Ellison.

Innovation in Horror, Jeanne Cavelos

I'm starting to see patterns of advice in these articles, even though they have different emphasis.  Cavelos talks in terms of innovation, but starts with the foundational advice of read a lot, read both in and out of the genre.  Doing so helps the amateur writer avoid writing something that's old under the false belief that they've written something new.  Fair enough, know what's been done before so you can truly come up with something knew.

The crux of her article is that innovation in horror comes not necessarily from creating something entirely new, but like so many other professions, innovation is more readily achievable by combining old things in new ways.  She then goes on to talk about innovating in plot and innovating in style.  She gives some good fundamental advice and examples, which all ties back to 'combine old things in new ways'.

It's good advice, but nothing I wasn't already familiar with.  I think popular fiction has to balance the familiar and unfamiliar (literary, not subject matter) to have a chance at commercial success.

Depth of Field: Horror an Literary Fiction, Nick Mamatas

What's the difference between Horror and Literary Fiction?  I don't think the question makes sense, because like Mamatas, I don't believe the two are diametrically oppossed.  He provides an overview of the 3 main literary genres: Literature (Classics), Realism, and Postmodernism.  He also provides great examples of horror in each.

Mamatas supplies some excellent reasons to strive for creating 'literary horror': it sells, it gets reviewed, and it's significant.  All are things I know I strive for in my writing.  I'd also argue that horror as a genre is much more narrow than need be.  As emphasized in many of the other articles, at it's core, horror is an emotion.  While the genre is always aligned with Science Fiction and Fantasy, I'm more prone to consider it a close cousin to romance.  It's about the feeling of things, the deep emotional responses human beings can evoke and invoke.  Nothing about that is at odds with Literary Fiction, and in fact, taking a literary approach is one of those things that might help a writer innovate in terms of style.  I love the way Mamatas sums up:

Horror writers should consider changing their focus occasionally.  Characterization, artful language, and grammtical fancy-dancing, socially relevant themes - stuff of literary fiction - are just as worthy of horror's attention as blood and brand names.

There's nothing wrong with writing about yucky, scary, oozing stuff, and there's nothing wrong about doing it in an artistic way at the same time.

Splat Goes the Hero: Visceral Horror, Jack Ketchum

The Girl Next Door is one of the most disturbing books I've read in the past few years.  I absolutely loved it because it made me squirm the in uncomfortable ways that I haven't experienced in a long time.  This article helped me understand why.

The book has nothing supernatural in it, no ghosts, no psychotic slashers.  Most of the characters are children - around ten years old or so, if I recall correctly - with a few parent figures.  It's primarily about abuse.

So, why did it make me squirm so much?  Because, as Ketchum suggests in this article, visceral horror is all about not looking away.  In his book, the reader isn't allowed to look away.  He lays it all right out, raw and bleeding, with nerves exposed.

Ketchum talks about pain in this article, and how to make it real for the reader.  He suggests a few points to help:

  • Dress it up in everyday clothes.  This goes back to what some of the other articles have said.  Keep things as close to normal as possible, so that the juxtaposition of normal and abnormal are drastic.
  • Know all about the details.  If things are inconsistent or just unrealistic, the reader will know and get distracted.
  • Engage all the senses, and make sure the pain has the character's subjective view to it.  These are supposed to be human beings, make that humanity part of the pain.
  • Make the reader care about the characters.  Anything else is like reading the obituary of someone you don't know.
  • Give meaning to the suffering.  Ketchum thinks t the most fundamental level, pain is about or involves loss.  I completely agree.  When violence happens, we share in the pain best when we also share in the loss.

Darkness Absolute: The Standards of Excellence in Horror Fiction, Douglas E. Winter

I like how Winter starts.  He says there is no recipe for success, but there are principles that provide guidance.  Again, he repeats items found elsewhere, but I think that's okay.  I think it's more than okay, actually.  The repetition is a demonstration of the truth, and for all of these writers to say the same thing should indicate that it's advice worth taking.

Winter offers the following principles:

  • Originality is unachievable if all you do is imitate.  Be familiar with the genre, admire other authors, but don't try to write like them.
  • Originality cannot be taught.  Is is something we each much discover.
  • Horror is an emotion, not a genre.  Study across genres and look for horror in other places.
  • Readers must have an emotional stake in the characters.  Make the reader care.  Give the reader the characters' perception.
  • Juxtaposition of normal and abnormal is much more effective when the normal, or ordinary, is the more pervasive.
  • Everyday life may be mundane, but it is also the mystery at the core of humanity.  The fundamental questions we all ask have no answer.  Likewise, modern horror is not about the explanation.  It is about the mystery itself.
  • Know the boundaries between good taste, bad taste, and taboo - not to stay in one and out of the other, but to make the boundary crossing a conscious decision.  A good horror writer will cross the boundaries.  (I like this one.  I like crossing boundaries and showing people what's on the other side.)
  • Concentrate not only on shock, or not on shock at all, but on the emotions.  Being suggestive can have more impact than being explicit.
  • Don't be afraid to add social commentary or subtext to the story.
  • Be subversive.  Conformity as salvation is a thing of the past, modern horror sees conformity as 'the ultimate horror'.
  • Great horror is rarely about monsters.  It is about us.
  • The ending must payout as well as payback.  I think that means the ending must survive the cynical sensibilities of the modern reader.  It's not enough for some neat and tidy solution to wrap things up any more.  Endings can be messy.  I like what he says about the conclusion: "...it is the vehicle by which the reader is awakened from your nightmare and returned to his workaday world."

Writing horror is a forward-facing activity.  We can build on foundations, but as writer's we should be aware that horror lies not in the tropes, but in the emotions those old tropes used to evoke.  How do we go about invoking those emotions in the modern-day reader?  That's a question I'll probably be asking myself the rest of my life.

On Horror: A Conversation With Harlan Ellison, Richard Gilliam

I don't have much to say on this.  Ellison reinforces the idea that horror is not a genre, it's an emotion.  There's no conflict with writing horror and writing literary fiction.  Writer's should be able to write more than one type of fiction.

To me, the most striking thing he says here is that the secret to writing is staying a writer.  That, to stay a writer, means to grow, be flexible, and recognize when the world around you has changed so that you can change with it.

7Oct/090

“On Writing Horror” – Part Four

Part 4 of On Writing Horror is titled "Horror Crafting", and encompasses 7 articles on the craft.  So many articles, and much of it is advice I've heard before, so I'm going to keep this as short as I can.

Such Horrible People, Tina Jens

Per Jens, "Horror is about how people react when they encounter the plot."  So to have good horror, we need good characters who interact with the plot.  That's nothing new to me, and it's sound advice.

Jens goes on to talk about balancing out developing plot and character, describing an initial process where you (the writer) might start with and idea, find characters to put in, jump back to plot to find the "monster's" goal, who's the monster up against, etc.  Then she says that, after some initial back and forth, it's time to stop with the plotting and get to know your characters.

She outlines several things writer's can do to develop their characters:  starting with people you know, working with picture files, developing full-fledged character sketches.  She does a good job of covering these, a good introductory source for those interested.

She continues on to say the payoff in doing all this seemingly unnecessary work is that now you have created characters that you can trust to help you develop the plot by interacting and reacting rather than just following orders.  Or something along those lines.  She sums the concept up well, "Listen to your characters.  It pays off."

Again, a definite plus, but also pretty common advice (at least to me).  But I think there's something much more important here than just, "knowing and trusting your characters".

Building an awareness and a trust in your characters is a misnomer.  They're not real.  What this process really does is help the writer develop an awareness and trust in themselves, and tune the skills of imagine characters in toto, so that as the plot develops, the writer isn't constantly second guessing or making inconsistent decisions.

Let's take the question of, "What would my character have for breakfast?"  Sure, who cares, but stay with me a moment.  The writer who has to stop and consider this while plotting needs to refine their skills on character by utilizing processes such as Jens describes.  But, the goal is not to produce mountains of character sketches and character data that will never be incorporated into the story.  The goal is to use the process to develop those skills internally, so that the next question that comes up can be answered with confidence and consistency.  We all have weak spots, so some writers may have to do character sketches the rest of their careers, but that's okay.  Just as long as they keep sight of the point - build trust and confidence in your knowledge of the characters.

A Hand on the Shoulder, Joe R. Lansdale

Lansdale's article is primarily about environment.  He raises an interesting perspective on the writer's connection to his or her environment, and how to benefit from it.  I think his main thrust is something I've only recently come to recognize.  I've always been tempted to set my stories in exotic places with strange characters.  Who isn't?  But, there's an incredible benefit to using what's around me everyday in my stories.  It creates a sense of honesty in the lie.

My environment is a part of who I am and what I know.  If I use it (the familiar settings and characters) as fundamental elements in my writing, then it shows through in both confidence and style.  Plus, when I do break from those and delve into the 'unusual', it has greater impact.  The normal aspects of my writing become more believable because they are real things, not imagined.  There's no need to dream up the real world when it's right in front of us.  Save the creative efforts for those things that aren't real (we hope...)

Eerie Events and Horrible Happenings: Plotting Short Horror Fiction, Nicholas Kaufmann

I didn't find much personal value in Kaufmann's article because it's concerned with short fiction.  I'm currently working on novel related skills, and I've also been working with short stories for a few years now.

That's not to say there's no value in the article.  It's does a good job of covering the fundamentals of short horror fiction.  Some of the basics covered:

  • Start close to the action.
  • Every scene should be related to the plot
  • The main character must either have the most to lose or the most to gain
  • Short stories usually stick to one conflict
  • The end must tie directly to the main conflict

Definitely one I'll use to refresh myself when I tackle my next short story.

Reality and the Waking Nightmare: Setting and Character in Horror Fiction, Mort Castle

Castle's article carries a message similar to Lansdale's.  Save the imagination for the places it really matters.  Good fiction must be credible, and the best way to achieve that is to keep as close to the truth as possible when it comes to setting and character.  Two quotes sum this up:

...readers are familiar with the ordinary; they live there.  Readers relate to the ordinary...

and

When the ordinary is invaded by the terrifyingly extraordinary, horror happens.

I like that last one, and I'm striving to keep it close to the heart.  In a world where everything is fantastic, everyone is a monster or a superhero, then the writer has to work extra hard to bring in anything with shock value.  But, if we keep things as close to normal as possible, then shocking the reader should come more easily.

"He Said?" She Asked: Some Thoughts About Dialog, David Morrell

Dialog has and is one of my toughest challenges.  At least it's where I've been spending most of my focus lately.  The advice found in here is an invaluable listing of the fundamentals of dialog.  Morrell addresses the following common problems in dialog:

  • Use of tags - Stick to the basics: said, asked, and a few others.
  • Use of adverbs - DON'T
  • Use of punctuation - Stick to periods and question marks.  Emphasize through action or description, not tags or exclamation marks.
  • Colloquialisms - Extreme moderation
  • Sloppy Diction via misspelled words - Again, Extreme moderation

Worth the read for anyone just getting into dialog challenges.

Keep It Moving, Maniacs: Writing Action Scenes in Horror Fiction, Jay R. Bonansinga

Writing action is like writing poetry.  While Bonansinga doesn't say this directly, I think it's a fair way to sum up the first part of his article.  The point is to get the language to match the action.   Fundamentally, it's about rhythm, establishing it and getting it to change along with the action of the scene.  Bonansinga describes various techniques that include moving from terse sentences to more free-form, abrubt insertion of all caps, and alliteration.

The other considerations he covers are:

  • Presenting through a character - action should be shown subjectively to provide emotional as well as physical response.
  • Engaging the environment - having the character interact with the environment to enhance action.
  • Details - make use of the human tendency to fixate on details during violent events.
  • Time - make time compress and expand to bring focus in on the action and expedite periods of inactivity.

I really appreciate his final words on the subject:

That's what action is.

A human being in peril - forced to perceive.

The Dark Enchantment of Style, Bruce Holland Rogers

Rogers reiterates what I think is pretty common advice on the subject of style.  Read, analyze and practice.  But, there are two new perspectives he presents that I think are invaluable.

I struggle with style constantly, but I've never been certain why.  Style has always been something an author has in my mind, and Rogers says flat out that this is wrong.  In fact, he says that finding your voice is inappropriate advice.  The trick is, and I agree, to find the voice for each story.  That voice may, and likely will, be different.  Yes, a writer may have a particular style that shines through every work, but I agree with Rogers when he says:

The voice, rather, is one that is just right for telling a particular kind of tale.

and

A good writer suites the telling to the tale.

The other piece of advice he gives is to slow down in both reading and writing.  It's a process he's suggesting, one that will serve to make the writer more aware of language, and that certainly can't hurt.

4Oct/090

“On Writing Horror” – Part Three

Part 3 of On Writing Horror is titled "Developing Horror Concepts".  It contains four articles dealing with conceiving and developing ideas for horror.

A World of Dark and Disturbing Ideas, J. N. Williamson

Williamson chooses to speak in terms of "useful premise" as opposed to "idea", and I can appreciate his working definition.  Idea's are great, but they are largely useless if they cannot or will not be executed.  This is true pretty much regardless of profession or circumstance.  Per Williamson, a "useful premise" is:

a concept that (1) may be new or hasn't been developed into a plot for quite awhile, (2) the writer is comfortable with, and (3) for which, it can be reasonably assumed an accessible market exists.

Great working definition, and good advice.  Ideas are great, but if it's not relatively unique, you're not comfortable with it, and there's no certainty around marketing it, move on.

He moves on to talk about the "Hypnagogic State" as being an essential resource of "useful premises" for him.  As I read, I thought of a few things I'm familiar with - the concepts of Lucid Dreaming and the Akashic Records.  Williamson seems essentially to be talking about dreaming with intention, or staging yourself so that, when you fall asleep, you're able to tap into the workings of your unconscious mind to work up your own "useful premises".  Whatever the method or the terminology, I like what he's talking about, and I try to utilize it myself.  It's a controlled wandering of the mind, a release and freedom to explore that seems to be an extremely difficult thing to accomplish in today's society - due to constant, unfettered access (email, cell phone, instant messaging) and increased demands for our time and attention by things other than writing.  I think the crux of Williamson's article here is pretty much that you have to make time for your craft, for your mind to work beyond just "ideas" by being permitted to focus an idea into a "useful premise".  We, as writers, have to make time to get in touch, and stay in touch, with our creative side.

Mirror, Mirror, Wayne Allen Sallee

Sallee's article addresses 'getting ideas'.  Personally, I didn't find anything really new in here.  It's a decent summary of where a writer can find ideas, though.  Essentially, he talks about finding ideas in the circumstances that surround you (like news stories, etc), finding characters by observing the people around you, and finding horrors by introspection.

There were a few things he mentioned that I find interesting, though.  In the section about introspection, he says that while terror may not be new, there is the potential for a new angle by understanding different behavioral traits.  I noted in the margins that "changes in understanding and perspective on behavior provide a fresh look".  Contemporary psychology provides an opportunity for redefining the old tropes by allowing for different reasons and perspectives on circumstances.

The other interesting piece in here that I hadn't considered comes in his final section.  He suggests that the contemporary horror writer is faced with greater challenge than ever because our readers are constantly bombarded with horror in a way that wasn't possible in the past.  This is incredibly important, I think, even though it's not about how a writer finds ideas because it's critical in understanding which ideas are 'useful'.  He further suggests that in spite of this, successful writing must have characters (good or bad) with human traits of affliction.  The humanity of our characters is what will help to bind them to our readers and create the shared experience we all must drive for.

Going There: Strategies for Writing the Things that Scare You, Michael Marano

One of the best ways to ensure you'll frighten your audience is by writing about what frightens you.  I think Marano definitely has a valid point here, but I think it's even broader.  It's about getting the emotion into the writing in general.  If the writer believes in his own work, feels the blood rushing through his veins, his temperature rise, the cacophony and confusion that result from stress, it'll come through in the work.

Marano poses a few ways of honing this ability.  One is the often cited means of copying another writer's work.  The idea is that by going through the process of actually writing out scenes that move you, you learn how to write such scenes yourself.  This is pretty common advice (at least it has been in my experience) - to become a master, start by copying one.  I'm not really a fan of this.  I've tried it, and I always wind up getting caught up in the mechanics of the process, like a transcriber rather than a student.  It may work for some, but I've not felt any great personal gain by this exercise.

Method Acting is another tactic he poses a possible route for getting the emotion into it.  This is one I do draw on, but it's more of an instinctive response rather than a planned out or focused activity.  I find myself dropping down into my characters at tense moments and trying to link their situation with some similar emotional situation in my own past.  It's also something I find works best for me incorporated into my writing process, not set aside as a precursor to writing.

The last method he discusses is one of my favorites - that of surrounding important items with "negative space" or empty space.  This is something I also experimented with in my poetry writings - the power of what's left unsaid.  I find that some of my more best (most fulfilling) writing often comes by giving incomplete descriptions, what Marano calls "strategic glimpses".  There's a powerful psychology at work underneath this tactic, one that serves to pull the reader in - the idea of the Gestalt effect.  In simplest terms, it's the natural tendency of our minds to 'fill in the blanks'.  By leaving strategic blanks, or divulging only glimpses of an image, you force the reader into completing the picture with what is most terrifying to them.

Honest Lies and Darker Truths: History and Horror Fiction, Richard Gilliam

I'm not all that interested in historical fiction, but there were some items in Gilliam's article that I found interesting.  His article seems mostly geared towards helping those interested in writing historical fiction through understanding how to research and how to apply that research.  I think the most interesting part of this article is Gilliam's discussion on accuracy and relevance.  I can agree with him that, it is the relevance of a story that makes historical fiction stand out, as opposed to its historical accuracy.  This links back to the idea of character.  If the characters in the story are both interesting and relevant to the audience, then historical inaccuracy is likely to be forgiven or ignored by most.

Gilliam also discusses a few forms of historical fiction - the "What-If" story, and the "Parable".

He says the first is an underutilized form, and that there's two possible problems with its use.  One possible problem is that the premise is more interesting than the story.  The other, that the subject's personality may conflict with the "what-if".  In the what-if, there's a challenge of keeping an 'honest lie', keeping true to the character's historical personality while changing the context.

The Parable is retelling a contemporary situation in a historical context.  The prime example he offers, which most writer's are familiar with, is that of The Crucible as a repesentation of the McCarthy trials.

Interesting, but not all that relevant to me right now.  Why?  Well, his next section on Gothic Horror sums up why I think it's in my best interest to steer clear of historical fiction:

Most commercially successful horror fiction has a contemporary setting.

I think my horror writing is best told in a contemporary setting, so I'm going to stick with that for now.

3Oct/090

“On Writing Horror” – Part Two

Part 2 of On Writing Horror, titled "An Education in Horror", briefly addresses a horror writer's education in four articles.

What You Are Meant to Know: Twenty-One Horror Classics, Robert Weinberg

Weinberg's message is pretty clear - know your genre.  He suggests that, in order to be marketable, you must be original.  And, in order tob e original, you must know what's already been done.  Aside from the mechanics of writing, a horror writer must be familiar with what's been done.  I think that's great advice regardless of genre, that in order to be creative - combine the usual in unusual ways - you must first know what is usual.  He lists out 21 books that every horror writer should read.  Sad to say, I've only read 6 and seen the movie version of 4.  I guess I have some reading to do...

Avoiding What's Been Done to Death, Ramsey Campbell

Campbell's message is similar to Weinberg's - know your genre.  Rather than provide a list of representative works, though, he instead provides several guidelines to help the new horror writer.

  • Be true to yourself.
  • Read widely outside the genre.
  • Find your own voice.
  • Imagine how it would feel to be all your characters.
  • Feel involved with your writing, or else no one else will.

Good advice, but all things I've heard in other places.  There is, however, one additional interesting bit to his article that deals with the cliche of evil.  Campbell says:

Horror fiction frequently presents the idea of evil in such shorthand form as to be essentially meaningless.

I think his point is, that often horror presents evil as just that - an abstraction of words on the page, a mysterious force that moves people and warrants no explanation.  Rather than that, he says we need to define horror by how it relates to us (that's "us" as in the writers).  I rather like his point.  Evil is an abstraction, and in my opinion, meaningless without context.  What's horrific and evil to one may not be to another.  It's important that we address and demonstrate evil in the human context - give it a face, give it a name, let it walk around, maybe even give it a few likable qualities.  Evil as something that just is, a mysterious driving force, feels like a cheat to me.  I think that not doing this, doing the shorthand form of evil, might be a way of not tackling the issue of portraying a fresh and creative view on it.  It's a form of procrastination on the part of the writer to just say, "this happened because the devil made him do it".  I just hope I remember not to do this myself.

Workshops of Horror (and Seminars and Conferences), Tom Monteleone

Aside from a repectable list of conferences, seminars, and workshops, Monteleone provides an important message.  In order to be good writers, we must close the feedback loop.  I know for my part, I struggled a long time trying to work in isolation to develop my craft, and it just doesn't work.  Writing is such a subjective thing that it's impossible to know if you're getting any better without direct and immediate feedback from other, experienced writers (and readers).  Conferences, Seminars, and Workshops provide that feedback loop.

I went back to school for this very reason.  I participated for a year in a local workshop that provided good feedback, but I needed more.

Degrees of Dread: Horror in Higher Education, Michael A. Arnzen

Like Monteleone, Arnzen's article also addresses the idea of closing the feedback loop.  His suggested route, though, is through academe.  He says that there's been a significant change in the times, and that in today's world, publishers and editors expect new writers to come to them relatively complete.  There is no more concept of apprenticeship within the industry.

Arnzen suggests that major components a new writer can gain from an academic program are process (how to write) and experience (writing).  He says it's possible to compile your own educational agenda from the various workshops and published materials, but that the education system offers more.  In addition to teaching process and discipline, the new writer gains access to contemporary published authors in an academic program.

The rest of his article provides good guidance on locating a program.  I won't reiterate it here, but I will say that this article is one of the many things that convinced me to go back to school.