Fear and Writing in Horror Land
It’s been a dog’s age, and then some, since I last jabbered on about the subject of writing. Especially writing horror. But recently, someone was shocked when I told them I wasn’t afraid of cemeteries. She said, “Well, that makes sense. You do write scary stories.” The truth is, I’ve never been scared of cemeteries. And I know exactly why. For the first 8 years of my life, I lived across the street from the famous Woodlawn Cemetery in the Bronx. Look out the window, there are rows of headstones. Playing punch ball on the street, the gates and cemetery wall were our backdrop. I had a grandmother who thought cemeteries were the most peaceful places on earth. She’d pack picnic lunches so we could spend the day at a cemetery. And you know what? She was right! I love the beauty of cemeteries to this day. I don’t see them as a spooky place or somewhere to go running around looking for ghosts. In most cases, they are well-tended nature preserves – just with dead bodies silently decomposing under your feet. I even made Woodlawn Cemetery the setting for a story in my Jessica Backman series way back when because I wanted to encapsulate a period of my childhood within the realm of that ‘universe’.
So no, you’ll never find me quaking at the thought of going to a cemetery, even on a foggy night with coyotes cackling in the darkness.
My dad, bless his heart, took me to see every scary movie that hit the movie theaters or drive-ins by us because he realized that at a young age (maybe too young), I was more fascinated than terrified of the on-screen horrors. To that end, I LOVED monsters (and still do). From the bevy of Universal monsters to giant ants in Them!, Godzilla, killer rats in Food of the Gods and anything made by the legendary Bert I Gordon, I couldn’t get enough. One of my favorite double features my father ever took me to was a double bill of Jaws and Grizzly, at the Bainbridge Theater in the Bronx when I was about eight years old. I got to see a nekkid lady skinny dipping, Quint eaten alive by a shark, and someone’s head lopped off by the giant paw of a very angry grizzly bear. I left that old, and now demolished, theater with my little brain abuzz. Fear was out of the question. I wanted more!
Monsters aside, I didn’t flinch during The Exorcist or the demonic madness of movies like The Sentinel. I understood from an early age that everything I saw on the screen was make believe. Giant grasshoppers were not going to chase me from school. Odds are, I wasn’t going to get eaten by a shark at Orchard Beach, also in the Bronx.
All that being said, there was one category of horror that did, and still does, chill me to my marrow. And that is anything involving home invasions or serial killers. Because home invasions happen all the time. Serial killers known and unknown are out there right now, plying their nasty trade. Growing up in the 70s, crime was a major concern in New York. I would jump from bead at the slightest sound at night, my heart pounding in my throat. I just knew someone was breaking into our apartment, and we were all moments away from being killed. Things didn’t get better when we moved from the Bronx to a house in Yonkers (the next town over). I don’t think I ever got used to the sounds in that house. And guess what, I was a kid terrified of the Son of Sam, because he was in Yonkers! When we played ball outside, we always had a lookout to warn us of anything or anyone that looked suspicious. Think of that. As much fun as we had being outside and playing, we were terrified to our cores enough to set up a lookout. This was all after doing nuclear bomb drills with air raid sirens blaring in school. Ah, the good old days. If Russia wasn’t going to blow us to hades, some random psycho would break into our homes and upend our lives.
My wife, like so many others, is addicted to true crime shows and murder docs. I can’t bring myself to watch more than five minutes. Too real. I read and watch movies and television for the same reason I write – to escape the real. Escapism is my oasis in a world that has always been mad. Give me a bigfoot gone berserk over John Wayne Gayce anyday.
Now, looking back after having written almost 50 books, I don’t have stories about serial killers or home invasions. Although, I could argue that my paranormal books that deal with unexplainable, intrusive phenomena are at least a kissing cousin of home invasion tales. They say, whoever they are, that you should put your fears on the page. I say, nah, you don’t. I mean, why live with the thing that scares the crap out of you for months to a year or more? That’s not being very nice to yourself. And it won’t make you a stronger person/writer. That’s like that old, dumb advice to punch your bully back and he/she will back right down. Been there, did that, didn’t work. The return punches were not worth the effort.
Like all writing advice, everything I just said is as worthwhile as it is worthless. Ultimately, you have to do what works best for YOU. No two writers are the same, and no piece of advice is universal (well, other than, finish the book!). I prefer to write about the things that thrilled me as a child. I love the absurd, the impossible, and the strange. The real-life stuff, I see that on the news, which is why I avoid it like the plague.
The question is, what scares you? Are you game to bleed your fear all over the page? If you are, go for it. Or, if you’re like me, dream up ways to make Bigfoot battle the Mothman in a fight to the death. There is no one size fits all. Run to your fear or from it. Life is short and we all have just so many stories to tell until we become a story to be told. Make the ones you tell count, and try not to torture yourself while doing it.
What Does A Dover Demon Sound Like?
Now that’s not a question you don’t get asked every day. Rarer still is the day it can be answered. How did we get to talking about the audio of one of the strangest cryptids of all time, the Dover Demon? Let’s roll back a bit.
Way back when, I did a signing for my book, The Montauk Monster, at the International Cryptozoology Museum in Portland, Maine. The owner and operator of my favorite museum is the one and only Loren Coleman, the godfather of cryptozoology (“I’m gonna make him a Bigfoot he can’t refuse.”). Loren is the one who gave the mysterious carcass that washed up on a Long Island beach the name, Montauk Monster. While we were talking, I asked him what cryptid I should write about next that doesn’t get the attention it deserves. He took me to the display of the Dover Demon. Now, I’d heard of it before, but I didn’t know the full story. When he told me his account of being in the town of Dover, MA just after the sightings, I was hooked. So, I went back to New York with visions of alien-ish creatures dancing in my head.
A year later, my book, The Dover Demon, was published by Samhain Publishing (RIP). Here’s the cool cover they conjured up –
For folks in 2026, that’s pretty much a depiction of a gray alien. The thing is, back in the 70s, this alien archetype wasn’t part of the zeitgeist yet. The people who saw this creature on a lonely road over the course of 2 nights described it this way BEFORE Close Encounters of the Third Kind was released. At the time, they thought it was some strange kind of animal that had never been seen before. To this day, no one has recanted their story and the question remains – what the hell did they see? Was it some kind of terrestrial animal, or something from…somewhere else?
Those are the questions I tackled with my book. When Samhain closed shop, the amazing folks at Severed Press were kind enough to bring it back in print. And now, thanks to Graphic Audio, the definitive audiobook of The Dover Demon is now here. And yes, you’ll hear what these creatures sound like. Guaranteed to make you sleep with the lights on, the windows locked, and a baseball bat under your pillow!
Now that’s a face I’m not sure even a mother can love!
If you want to listen to a chilling audio clip, just click here. Or check this other audio clip below.
And if you dare to take the plunge into the lair of the Dover Demon, grab a copy, put on your headphones, and brace yourself. This is a ride to destinations unknown…for a reason.
I Need Horror Movie Recs!
Well, well, well, we meet again. It’s been a sea turtle’s age since I last posted here, and I’m wondering if this post will be blasting into the empty void. As a man accustomed to yelling at clouds, I guess that would be business as usual.
Hellions far and wide, I come to you with a request. I have plans to rent a movie theater in PA either this summer or fall to host a cryptid movie event, with a focus on my Shadow of the Mothman book on the ol merch table, but all the others will be there (like Loch Ness Revenge, Bigfoot in the Bronx, To the Devil, A Cryptid and on and on). The theater is pretty awesome, with new screens and sound systems, and there is an excellent taco and burrito joint right next door, not to mention a cigar lounge, bars and restaurants around the corner.
The big question that has been rattling around my skull like a bone spur is this – what the hell movie do I choose? I know The Mothman Prophecies is on the nose, but for a cryptid lover, there ain’t enough Mothman. Not sure if that’s one that will excite the crowd. There’s always The Legend of Boggy Creek, to keep it in the crytpid world, but that flick has gotten a ton of attention. Plus, I think of that as Lyle Blackburn territory, so I don’t want to step on his booted toes. I could truck with The Creature from Black Lake, or go more modern with Exists. I’m kind of thinking movies a little older just to expose folks to maybe something new. The key is, I want something that will spark conversation, maybe even tug on our nostalgia.
Hopefully I can pull in my Monster Men brother, Jack Campisi, and we’ll give the move the ol Svengoolie treatment, sharing fun tidbits, and maybe we’ll break out into song. I want to have a cryptid party, and everyone is invited.
I want to hear what movies you think I should feature. Hit me with anything new, old, or obscure. If I can get a physical copy of it, I can show it. If I pick the movie you suggest, you’ll get a cryptid prize pack!
In the words of the Rancho Carne cheer squad, bring it on!
New Cryptid Thriller Release – SHADOW OF THE MOTHMAN Haunts Bookshelves
Years after writing books about a host of cryptids – Skunk Apes, Bigfoot, Orang Pendek, Loch Ness Monster, Montauk Monsters, Jersey Devils, Goat Man, Dover Demon and so many more – it was time I finally sat down to write my own Mothman tale. The issue for me always was, the Mothman story from 1967 in Point Pleasant in WV, as chronicled in John Keel’s Mothman Prophecies, is more than just a creepy winged beast lurking in the night skies. It’s literally the whole dang paranormal kitchen sink!
I’ve spent the better part of the last decade trying to come up with a Mothman story I felt was worthy of the bizarre events the people of Point Pleasant experienced. I’m talking about 50-plus concepts that just never floated my cryptid boat. Then, this summer, I had a kernel of an idea that piqued my interest. I said to myself, “Just sit down and write and shut the doubt out of your giant Irish head.” I figured I would write a wild little novella in the vein of To The Devil, A Cryptid. Then I just kept writing, and the book kept growing, until I had a full-fledged novel on my hands.
The question that sparked the idea was – What if a survivor of the Silver Bridge collapse, someone who was not part of the Mothman flap, survived, but was in a coma, waking up in the early 80s, only to find the creature and all of its high strangeness had followed him to his home?
Because any monster book is really about the people, I set the story in a fictionalized MA town based on the one my wife’s grandparents lived in and we would visit every year. I’m talking no-nonsense, salt of the earth types who have zero flights of fancy. How would they react to such a thing? The story revolves around the Silver Bridge survivor, Ken Orsulak, who’s family car plunged into the icy Ohio River when he was 16, and now finds himself a 32 year old man out of time. He’s grappling with the loss of his youth as well as a terrifying mystery that’s taken over the town.
Last but not least, I wanted to write about my favorite stalwart reporter, John Keel himself! It was time to make him a character in the meta tale about the cryptid he had made infamous. He was the real-life Karl Kolchak and deserves more love and attention from folks in my circle.
So there you have it – the inspiration behind SHADOW OF THE MOTHMAN. It’s finally out of my head and now out there for you to grab in ebook or paperback (with audio on the horizon).
I hope you enjoy my take on Mothman! For me, the best part of this is that it’s now mandatory that I take part in the annual Mothman Festival in Point Pleasant. Hope to see you there in September.
If you dig the book, please drop a quick review/rating on Amazon. It’ll keep ol Mothy happy…and you don’t want an angry Mothy patrolling the skies!
The End of the World Has Never Burned So Bright – Combustible Is Here!
What if the world didn’t end with a bang… but with a burn? That’s the question I set out to answer in my latest post-apocalyptic horror novel, Combustible — now available from the fine fiends at Dark Wolf Books.
I’ve written about swamp monsters, undead killers, mutants gone wild, haunted places and people, and cryptids that make Bigfoot look like a teddy bear. But this time, I wanted to dive into the raw, ugly horror of a world collapsing under the weight of something totally out of its control — where society isn’t just broken, it’s on fire. And not metaphorically.
In Combustible, people are literally exploding.
Not all of them. Just anyone who sneezes. Which means it’s coming for you, no matter what! And once it starts, there’s no stopping it. One second you’re sprinkling too much pepper onto your meatloaf, the next you’re a pile of smoldering ash.
Yes, spontaneous human combustion is real — in Combustible, at least. And while I could’ve gone full doom and gloom, I wanted to inject this chaos with a sharp edge of satire. Because let’s face it — if the world really did end due to something as normal as a sneeze, it would be terrifying and kind of hilarious.
This isn’t a quiet horror. It’s loud, visceral, brutal, and sometimes funny. And yet, at its core, it’s about love and survival — about a husband doing anything he can to protect his wife even though their marriage was in flames before the world followed suit.
You’ll laugh. You’ll cringe. You’ll smell burning hair (in your imagination, hopefully).
From flame-worshipping cults to roadside lunatics, no one’s safe and no meltdown goes unnoticed. It’s Zombieland by way of The Road, with a little bit of Warm Bodies sprinkled in for flavor.
A massive thanks to Dark Wolf Books, who jumped at the chance to publish this beast. These folks aren’t afraid to take chances on dark, bloody, emotionally raw horror — the kind that bites and burns. If you’re not already following them, you’re missing out on some of the best indie horror in the game.
If you’re a fan of horror with teeth, apocalypse tales with bite, and humor darker than the inside of a burnt-out SUV, Combustible is calling your name.
⚠️ Warning: May cause spontaneous laughter and/or anxiety the next time you feel a sneeze coming on.
📖 Available now in eBook and paperback:
👉 Get it on Amazon
Recharging Your Batteries
I’m going to come at this topic from the angle of a writer, but it applies to everyone and every endeavor.
Being knocked out for 6+ weeks getting seriously ill and then recovering, the last thing I thought of was writing, even though I had just agreed to pen a new book with a specific deadline. Things were so bad at one point, the thought of watching an episode of The Office was like asking me to scale Everest. Occasionally, I would look at my laptop and know that a few thousand words were in there, waiting to be expanded upon. Then I would see my pillow and collapse on it.
Cut to now and I have no shortage of energy. The drive is getting there. A shortened attention span is hopefully just here for a visit and will soon hit the bricks. There is a book to be written, and I need to get in the proper headspace.
That calls for a recharge. Even though my body is willing, the mind, the will, the drive, needs some bulking up. Daily ra-ra sessions are good ways to get your ass in gear. What am I doing to get myself in the mood? Pretty much what I’ve always done.
I love podcasts. And I love the work of Ernest Hemingway. His aesthetic helped teach me to keep my writing lean and clean. So, it’s no surprise that I’m a big fan of One True Podcast, a deep dive into the works and deeds of not just Hemingway, but other artists of his generation. Hearing Hemingway scholars and other esteemed authors discuss the process, meaning and real-life circumstances around his stories and books always gets me going. I missed a few episodes while I was down and out and have enjoyed catching up.
Writer’s Digest still gets delivered to my house every month. When I first subscribed in the 90s, it was my glossy bible, one I hoped would lead me to the Land of Published Authors. All these years later, with over 40 books under my belt, I’m still reading WD, always learning, always being inspired. I like to read an article or interview just before I sit down to write. Another publication that helps in this regard is The Writer.
Reading as much as I can gets the juices flowing. I don’t just read books in the genre that I’m writing. Life is too short to pigeonhole myself. I drink from a fountain of variety, picking up things both consciously and subconsciously from the great, good, and even bad books. When I read what others are putting out there, it motivates me to finish my own stories.
Last but not least, I look for shows or movies to watch that are in the genre I’m focusing on. If it’s horror, I’m on Shudder or Tubi or combing through my personal library of movies, just absorbing all the bits and pieces. For, say, a book set in the old west, I’ll fire up The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly, the Lonseome Dove series, or Silverado. If I want to add a little comedy, I’ll pop in The 40 Year Old Virgin, The Big Lebowski or Dr. Strangelove. You get the idea. I also have a whole section of movies just about writers that I’ll hit every now and then to remind myself why I do what I do.
Way back in the day when I worked in telecom customer service, I would blast heavy metal in my car to psych myself up for another day of problems and getting yelled at. When I saw Dwight on The Office do the same before sales calls, I nearly fell off my chair laughing.
The big question is, how do you recharge your batteries? Is it spending time with your favorite guinea pig? Chopping wood? Hitting the treadmill? Or just vegging out on the couch? Reply in the comments here and I’ll pick some folks to win a signed book. Bring it on!
Fun with AI
I was driving my family to the Mahoning Drive-In last night (to see a double bill of The Outsiders and Rumblefish), when we started talking about AI’s capabilities. My wife and daughter really haven’t dipped their toes in those waters yet, so they were curious. During that conversation, we wondered what AI would come up with if we asked it to write about the career of Hunter Shea.
Well, it’s Sunday morning and I’m waiting for the floors to dry. I entered my one line request and the following is what popped out of ChatGPT. I’m going to give it a B+. Points are deducted for not mentioning my podcasts, Monster Men and Final Guys, or my Video Visions column. But otherwise, solid work. I really feel bad for teachers today. How the heck will they know what’s real or not? A smart kid can take what AI spits out and manipulate it just enough to pass a smell test.
And I feel even worse for new generations that will rely more and more on AI and less and less on their own brains and imagination. We may not be that far from the scooter people in Wall-E. What seemed like a silly premise may be just around the corner.
So, what did AI say about me? Read on and please, for those of you who have been following me over the years, let me know your thoughts. This is really wild stuff.
THE CAREER OF HUNTER SHEA
Hunter Shea is a prolific American horror writer best known for his works that delve into cryptids, monsters, and supernatural entities. His career spans numerous novels, novellas, short stories, and anthologies that blend fast-paced action with eerie atmospheres, cementing him as a modern voice in the horror genre. His works often touch on themes of fear, survival, and the unknown, with his vivid imagination and keen ability to capture the macabre earning him a devoted fanbase. This essay will explore Hunter Shea’s career, from his early beginnings to his rise as a notable figure in horror fiction, examining his influences, most significant works, and the impact he has made in the genre.
Early Beginnings and Influences
Hunter Shea, a native of New York, grew up fascinated by the world of horror, science fiction, and the unexplained. His childhood interest in monsters, fueled by a steady diet of horror films, urban legends, and classic horror literature, laid the foundation for his writing career. He has frequently cited influences like Stephen King, H.P. Lovecraft, and Edgar Allan Poe, along with the pulp fiction tradition of the mid-20th century.
Shea’s early love for writing was evident from his youth, where he began crafting short stories, albeit with no initial intention of turning it into a career. Writing took a backseat as he pursued a professional life outside of fiction, but the call of storytelling never left him. It was only later, after years of working in various industries, that Shea returned to his first passion: writing horror.
Career Breakthrough and Cryptid Focus
Hunter Shea’s first major breakthrough came with the release of “Forest of Shadows” in 2011, a paranormal thriller that explored the terrifying events that unfold when a man seeks to uncover the truth about supernatural phenomena in the Alaskan wilderness. The novel was well-received by readers, praised for its suspenseful plot and character-driven narrative. It set the stage for Shea’s distinctive style, one that blends the supernatural with personal tales of trauma and survival.
However, it was his foray into cryptid horror that truly marked Shea’s place in the horror landscape. Cryptids—mythical creatures whose existence is often debated—became a recurring theme in his work, with Shea pulling from folklore, urban legends, and modern-day sightings to craft some of his most well-known novels. “The Montauk Monster” (2014) is one such example, which gained mainstream attention. Based on a real-life mystery surrounding an unidentified carcass that washed ashore in Montauk, New York, Shea turned the premise into a fast-paced, gory thriller that plays on the fear of government experiments and genetic tampering. The novel was named one of the best horror books of 2014 by Fangoria Magazine.
Shea’s fascination with cryptids didn’t stop there. “The Dover Demon” (2015) and “Loch Ness Revenge” (2016) further expanded his portfolio of creature-centric horror. In these novels, Shea manages to tap into the primal fear of the unknown, blending real-world folklore with cinematic horror. His ability to take cryptids, which are often relegated to niche interests, and craft stories that appeal to a broader horror audience is a testament to his skill as a storyteller.
Writing Style and Themes
Hunter Shea’s writing is marked by an ability to create tension and suspense while weaving in elements of humor and humanity. His characters are often average people thrust into extraordinary, terrifying situations. The monsters in Shea’s books are not just physical threats; they often represent deeper psychological fears, such as isolation, loss, and helplessness.
In addition to cryptid horror, Shea has also written extensively about the paranormal. Novels like “Sinister Entity” (2013) and “Tortures of the Damned” (2015) explore hauntings, demonic possessions, and apocalyptic scenarios. His novella “We Are Always Watching” (2017) delves into a family dealing with a mysterious and sinister presence in a remote farmhouse. These works showcase his versatility in the horror genre, proving that his talents go beyond creature features.
One of the recurring themes in Shea’s work is survival—both physical and emotional. His protagonists are often forced to confront not only external threats but also their inner demons. Whether it’s a group of friends facing a rampaging cryptid or a family haunted by spirits, Shea’s characters must grapple with their own fears, guilt, and trauma. This human element adds depth to his horror, making it more than just a tale of terror.
Another significant aspect of Shea’s writing is his ability to build believable, immersive worlds. Whether it’s the dense forests of Alaska or the murky depths of Loch Ness, Shea’s settings are richly detailed, adding a layer of realism to his supernatural stories. His works often have a cinematic quality, with readers frequently describing his books as “fast reads” or “page-turners” due to his ability to keep the pace brisk and the stakes high.
Collaborations and Short Fiction
In addition to his novels, Hunter Shea has made significant contributions to horror anthologies and short fiction collections. His stories have appeared in various publications and have been praised for their brevity and impact. Shea’s short fiction often delves into the same themes as his longer works—cryptids, the paranormal, and survival—but with a tighter, more focused narrative.
Shea has also collaborated with fellow horror authors on various projects. His partnership with Severed Press, a publisher known for its focus on horror and science fiction, has resulted in numerous successful novels. This collaboration has allowed Shea to consistently release new material, ensuring that he remains a prominent figure in the horror writing community.
Legacy and Impact
Hunter Shea’s career, while still ongoing, has already left a lasting impact on the horror genre. His ability to take lesser-known myths and cryptids and bring them into the mainstream has earned him a reputation as one of the leading voices in creature horror. His works have been praised for their accessibility, combining the thrills of B-movie horror with well-developed characters and engaging plots.
In addition to his success as a novelist, Shea is also known for his interactions with fans. He is an active presence on social media, often engaging with readers and fellow writers, and sharing insights into his writing process. This connection to his audience has helped him build a loyal fanbase, eager for each new release.
Conclusion
Hunter Shea’s career as a horror author has been marked by a dedication to exploring the unknown, whether it be through cryptids, ghosts, or apocalyptic horrors. His ability to craft stories that are both terrifying and deeply human has earned him a place among contemporary horror writers. As he continues to write and expand his body of work, Shea remains a vital force in the genre, keeping the tradition of monster and supernatural horror alive for a new generation of readers.
The Guilt Free Writing Break
Write every day.
That was what I heard from working writers over and over again. It was in just about every book and article I read. In every lecture and interaction.
Write every day.
So, I wrote every day. Even when I was sick, or exhausted, or just plain not in the mood. Sure, I snuck a few days off (like Christmas and my birthday) here and there, but there was always this steady march marked by word counts, deadlines, and desire.
I did that for the past fifteen years, and all those dreams I had when I started scribbling came true. In that time, I published 35 books, from a children’s picture book with Random House, to a slew of horror novels with Samhain Publishing, Pinnacle (Kensington), Severed Press and more, and incredible ghost-writing gigs.
Feeding the beast that was my muse (a rather pleasant lass who is demanding but has my best interests at heart) was my prime directive. If starved my muse or got skimpy with the day’s meal, that old bastard, guilt, would tap me on the shoulder. I hated guilt and would do anything to avoid him.
Then the fall of 2023 happened. I moved my family out of state for the first time in our entire lives. And while we were in the process of boxing up our belongings, my wife’s doctor told us he was pretty darn sure she had some kind of blood cancer, so let’s do every test known to man to find out what it is.
There we were, surrounded by our belongings in a beautiful house, two states away from her doctors, filled with joy, trepidation, and creeping fear. We decorated like crazy for the holidays, hosted friends and family, traveled for tests and fretted over results that were always inconclusive. On top of that, I was adjusting to working remotely and had a deadline to meet for a ghost-writing project.
It was exhausting. The silver lining is that we loved where we lived and weren’t being robbed blind by New York prices. I somehow managed to finish the book in January of this year, around the same time the doctor said it probably wasn’t cancer, but he did find rheumatoid arthritis (just another tagalong disease to add to Lupus, Ehlers Danlos Syndrome and several others). In our special way, we were relieved.
And I was plum pooped.
Whenever I tried to write, I couldn’t get past a few hundred words. It was if I’d never written in my life. All those skills and word muscles I’d developed over the years went to flab. Guilt sat atop my laptop screen, wagging his finger at me.
Then my muse popped in and said she was tired, too. She promised the flow of ideas would always be there. Let’s just take a break. And if during that break we both decide we’ve done our part, that was okay, too. Reinvention, taking on new challenges, are the core of the human experience. A bibliography of 35 books was a kinda cool achievement and about 33 more than I thought I’d ever write.
I took a break. I settled into my home. My wife’s health, which is always in a precarious balance, improved, so much so that we’ve had the best run since my writing odyssey started. We went out like the old days. We spent our time in the sun at the pool. We went to drive-ins. We turned our house into a home and explored our community, making new friends and finding sweet spots to eat, shop, or just enjoy nature.
Best of all, that bastard guilt was nowhere to be found. I watched my muse lock him in a trunk and toss him out to sea. I relaxed, I read, I enjoyed all that extra time with my wife and family.
After a wonderful eight months, not knowing if I was ever going to write again, I’m back in the saddle, on my own terms. I have a new ghost-writing job that will be a lot of fun. I have a proposal out for a pretty cool drive-in theater tie-in that I hope will make a ton of readers smile.
I’ll go where my muse takes me, except we’re older and wiser now. I’m starting to think guilt is a younger man’s game. I’m officially in my ‘I’ve got zero fucks to give’ era, and it feels great. The sands of time ain’t slowing down, even though I am…just a tad. That’s a natural thing in your mid-50s. Nothing to bemoan. Rise and grind can kiss my ass.
If you’re kicking your own ass and fretting over word counts, likes, subscribers, reviews, take a good long breath. Life is too fleeting to get caught up in the artificial madness. When you exhale, get back to writing, or don’t. Maybe find time to rediscover why you wanted to be a writer in the first place. Find that love, that passion, that compulsion that lit a fire in your soul. Or maybe there’s something else that has been calling to you, but you couldn’t hear it over the wall of noise you built around yourself.
Do what makes you happy, and be happy with what you do.
Sometimes taking a break is the only way to find out exactly what that is.
Fu** Your MFA
This isn’t me crapping on MFA (a Master of Fine Arts) degrees or everyone who has worked hard to get one. I know quite a few damn good people who have one they can add to their resume. This is about elitism and misguided entitlement. You can expand this from the microcosm of writing to all things great and small in our society.
For years, I’ve heard select MFA holders put down writers who they believe don’t possess such a degree, referring to them as hacks or worse. To them, only he or she who wears the MFA crown has the necessary skills to put words to paper. The rest of us are here to be dazzled by their command of the English language and storytelling prowess. I came across such a troll recently who lambasted my writing on Goodreads, basically saying I didn’t have the skills to be a good writer because it was apparent I never received the proper education to do the very thing I’ve been working at for over a decade. I read it and laughed, then looked up their name to find their writing credits. I wasn’t surprised to find zippo. (By the way, I’m a college graduate who never scored less than a 90 in English my entire life.)
Truth be told, the review didn’t make me angry. My skin is thicker than an elephant’s hide. If you’re going to do this for a living, you can’t let the bad or even the good reviews get to your head. What does make my blood boil is when I see a trend that deeply hurts earnest, honest writers.
An MFA degree doesn’t make you a writer, just as going to astronaut camp doesn’t qualify you for a stint on the ISS. In many cases, an MFA degree does put you in some serious debt, hoping to strike it rich in an industry that is pretty darn parsimonious when it comes to paychecks. As an author friend once said, better to learn a trade and be a fucking plumber.
I learned all I needed to know about becoming a writer from a chance meeting with the great Elmore Leonard. It was the late 90s and I was at a two day writers conference in New York City. I’d spent money I didn’t have to be there, hoping to learn from those who had scaled the mountain. I was in a classroom, sitting in the back because I had a hard time finding it and was almost late. A famous thriller author was giving a talk about the publishing process, but it was really an examination of the neurosis of a writer who never felt as if his stuff was good enough.
A small, older man sat next to me during the class. At one point, he leaned over and asked if I’d spent a lot of money to be there. I gave a quick answer, wishing he’d leave me be. He then said, “You see all these people? None of them will ever be writers. Don’t waste your money. You really want to be a writer?” Slightly annoyed, I said, “Of course.”
He said, “Then go home. Read a ton. Then write a ton. That’s all there is to it.”
I thanked him for the advice and shifted my attention back to the real author in the front of the room. When the class ended, the old man shuffled out and I headed for the next session. When lunch came, I grabbed a table by the podium, chatting with a world famous bestseller. Imagine my surprise when they brought that older man up to be the key speaker. It was Elmore Leonard!
I realized in that moment that I’d just gotten invaluable wisdom from a man who’d published more books than every writer at the conference combined. Who the hell was I not to listen to him? I vowed that day to never attend a writing conference. I was already a voracious reader, but I stepped up my writing game. Read a ton. Write a ton. I could do this.
And I did. As have so many others, all without the benefit of an MFA. You don’t need any high falutin’ qualifications to be a writer, other than a command of your native language, imagination, and limitless passion. I don’t care what degrees you have and don’t have, and neither do editors. Tell a damn good story they think will sell.
If you think your MFA makes you a better writer than someone who gets paid to write and publishes book after book, it’s time to dispel yourself of that delusion. That degree, especially if you’re not writing and publishing, is worth as much as the paper it was printed on. You are not entitled to a damn thing. You need to earn it. That means get off your high horse and get down in the mud and muck and write. Then go bust your hump finding someone to publish your work. Stop criticizing those who have accomplished the very thing that inspired you to get that degree. You are not the elite. You’re just a regular person who spent more on school.
Over the years, I’ve found that writers rarely criticize other writers because we all share the same story, the same grind. We not only know how the sausage is made – our hands are in it day after day. So next time you want to use your MFA to tear down another person, take a good, hard look at yourself and like most opinions, keep it to yourself. Writing is a great equalizer. You’d know it if you did it.
Resolutions are for Suckers
This is going to be a short post because I want to get right to the point. This time of year, a lot of people start thinking about what their new year’s resolutions are going to be for 2019.
Don’t be one of those people. Resolutions, like hearts, are made to be broken. You want to do something? Get off your ass TODAY and do it.
I’ve known a lot of people who swear they’re going to start writing that book that’s been circling around their brain right after the ball drops. Guess what? They don’t.
Ideas are like passion fruit. Eat them now before they wither and die.
If you said you will write a book in 2019 and wait until 1/1/19 to start instead of today, you’re already behind. You could have written 30,000 words already! And face it, by the time New Year’s Day rolls around, you’re going to bitch and moan that you’re hungover or tired or just worn down from the holidays.
Write now. Eat right and exercise now. Start your own custom bagel shop now. Pet every dog you meet now. I don’t care what you do. Just don’t be one of those suckers who thinks they need to wait for a date on a calendar to start your passion, your dream, your big plan!
Don’t just take my word. Listen to this guy. He has a beard and tattoos and curses a lot – and he says it like it is.
Hunter Shea 