Category: Real Life Writer

Do you care about me? A conversation about parasocial relationships

Do you like me? Do you really like me? Like, as a person?

I promise, this isn’t some desperate cry for attention. I’m not your ex or super needy friend texting you at 12:45 at night on a Thursday. Do you like me, Nicole, the person?

If you consider yourself a reasonably kind person, you might well want to answer yes. Of course you like me. You come here every week and read whatever writing or reading-related thing I’ve come up with between working and trying to keep my cat from eviscerating my roommates’ dog.

And yes, part of me wants you to like me. I am human. We all want to be seen and loved for who we are. But the other part of me, the larger part, doesn’t really give a damn. And if you’re a writer or content creator, you probably shouldn’t care if your fans like you, either.

That’s right, we’re talking about parasocial relationships today. And why they’re not only dangerous for everyone, but really don’t have any upsides.

Your readers can’t really know you

You can’t really like me as a person, because you don’t really know me as a person. You know the face I show to the internet.

This isn’t to say that I lie about the things I say online. I really am a writer, feral Christian, witch, progressive, horror fan who lives in Western PA and refers to Stephen King as dad. I really do love the books I praise and hate the books I berate.

But to know these things about me isn’t the same as knowing me. You can know a lot about a person online, and it’s not the same as having an actual relationship with them.

We know people in our real lives. People we’ve been able to have real-world back-and-forth conversations with. People who we’ve seen grow and change, and who have seen us do the same. Can this be done on the internet? Yes, of course. I have several good friends I’ve never met face-to-face. But it’s still a two-sided relationship with give and take.

Liking someone doesn’t always translate to liking their work

Even if you like a creator, that doesn’t mean that you like their creation. I love Cardi B as a person, but I don’t listen to any of her music. I like her politics, her sex positivity and the way she supports other female creators. But her music, while I can appreciate the quality and talent, isn’t for me.

Likewise, some people I am not fond of make some wonderful content. I don’t mean people I can’t justify supporting financially anymore. I mean people who are fine, just kind of dicks. Joss Whedon strikes me as a pompous ass. I’ll still watch almost anything he’s involved in.

Most people I’m a fan of, though, I don’t know a lot about. I know almost nothing about Sylvia Moreno Garcia, Grady Hendrix or Kirsten White. I’ll buy their books sight unseen. I don’t think liking them as people is a big part of that. It’s the fact that their books are fantastic.

Parasocial relationships are dangerous

I am very blessed. No one who’s ever been weird to me online has ever found me in real life. I’d love to keep it that way.

Other writers and content creators aren’t so lucky. One witch I follow on YouTube had someone trying to break into her home with a screwdriver. An Instagrammer had to move to another country because she was getting death threats and people were calling ICE on her.

Being online is scary. While the vast majority of people are perfectly kind and normal (And the comments you guys leave are so sweet!), it just takes one devoted crazy person to find a content creator and threaten their life.

This danger goes both ways. We’ve all heard horror stories of content creators taking advantage of their fans. Like Miranda Sings, for instance. The less said of her, the better.

That’s not why we’re here

We as writers and content creators aren’t here to make friends.

I don’t mean this in the mean, competitive way. I have certainly made friends in my writing journey. Other writers and creators are not my competition. And that is a blessing. But that isn’t why I started writing.

I started writing to tell stories. I started this blog to share my writing journey and hopefully help you with your journey. I’m assuming that you started writing to tell your stories.

No one needs to like us. They just have to like our stories.

So, do you like me? If so, that’s great. I’d probably like you too. But if you don’t, that’s alright. All I really want you to like is my writing.

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Stop doing everything

I recently moved. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that moving fucking sucks.

Moving is all-encompassing. It takes up every moment of your time. It disrupts everything. You don’t have anything you need.

And it takes forever! I still have unpacked boxes all over the house.

In short, moving means you stop doing everything that you normally do.

So, I stopped doing everything.

Now, to be clear, this isn’t a post about how we do too much and ask too much of ourselves. I am not saying stop trying to do it all, even though you should for sure stop trying to do it all.

What I mean is that I stopped doing literally everything. I took time off from the day job. I didn’t do any of my usual habits or routines. I wasn’t writing blog posts because I batch-wrote them in advance. I wasn’t writing outside of my journal. I wasn’t doing my FlyLady cleaning.

I wasn’t doing anything but moving house. And while that was in many ways an awful experience, it was also a golden opportunity. See, once I’d moved in and started unpacking, I could have started up all of my routines just as I had before. Instead, I took some time to see what I really wanted or needed to start doing again.

Some things came back right away

There are some routines that have to come back right away, because lives literally depend on them. The Darling Husband’s medicine routine. The plants watering schedule. And of course, my weekly planning time was reinstated as soon as it could be.

What was needed to live came back without a thought. So did the things I enjoy the most. It was kind of nice to know for sure what those things are.

Some things I stopped, but started up again

When I first moved in, I stopped doing my Flylady cleaning routine. This was practical at first, as it doesn’t make a lot of sense when you’re in the middle of moving. Then, well, life got complicated.

I soon realized that I missed having a clean toilet every day. So, I picked that back up.

There are a lot of little chores and routines throughout the week and month that I didn’t start doing again until I realized I needed them. Which was honestly a bit eye-opening. It’s amazing to realize how much I was cleaning because it was a habit, and not because it actually needed to be done.

I know, it’s flat heresy as a woman to say that something doesn’t need to be cleaned. But hear me out. I don’t care.

That’s it. I will keep my home clean enough. Because if I get to the end of the week with a clean house but empty pages where there should be writing, I’ll consider that week wasted.

Some things had to change

When we moved, we didn’t just move into a new house. We moved into a new living situation. Which is to say we now have roommates for the first time in our lives. And that’s actually been a lovely experience. But, it means that many of my habits had to change. Like casually walking from my bathroom to my bedroom with just a towel on.

I used to not worry about laundry baskets, because my washer and dryer were in my kitchen. So I’d just toss things in when they were dirty, and turn the washer on when it was full. Can’t do that anymore.

I also needed new routines. When do the bills get paid? Where do we put mail that belongs to another roommate? Who’s cooking dinner, and when are we going to sit down and figure that out? Everything had to change because we were now taking two more adults’ schedules into account.

I also have to order groceries more often because we no longer live right next to a shop. There are pros and cons.

Now, you might not be moving anytime soon. And good for you, moving is the worst. But the holidays are here. And most everyone’s routines get thrown right out the window while we’re making magic and memories.

So maybe just stop.

Maybe just stop doing all of your routines. I mean everything. Your morning routine. Your before-bed routine. Your chore charts, face care, everything. Then, see what you want to put back. See what still fits your life in the season you’re in. See if you can do some things better, or if there are some habits you can get rid of altogether. If nothing else, you can rest assured that everything you’re doing, you need to actually do. And at best, you can drop a lot of busywork out of your routine.

Paper Beats World is a labor of love. If you love what I do here, please consider liking and sharing this post and leaving a comment. You can also support me financially on Ko-fi.

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I’m a Christian Witch. Here’s how it impacts my writing

Writers have a weird job. We sit down and make up things that never happened, then write them down on paper to entertain people. We might try to tell some truths about things along the way, but mostly we’re playing pretend on the page.

That’s a weird thing to do, when you think about it. Which is maybe why everyone wants to psychoanalyze writers. Especially horror writers, I’ve noticed. It’s almost like people think you’re weird if you make up stories about people getting brutally ripped apart by otherworldly creatures or psychos in masks.

What’s wrong with people?

However, it’s true that a writer’s life and beliefs will inevitably influence their writing. Of course it will. No matter what you do, your personality bleeds through on the page. What you love, what you hate. What you hope for and what you’re afraid of.

Now, I’m not saying that Paul Tremblay has murdered anyone. No more than I’ve ever battled a demon while trapped by an ice storm. But I am saying that my personal beliefs do make their way onto the page. Sometimes it’s on purpose, but sometimes it’s not.

Let’s discuss.

If you don’t already know, I am a Christian. But not in a red hat, everyone’s going to burn in hell except me, way. I’m a bit more classic Christian. Feed the poor, care for the sick, love your neighbor, and flip over tables if need be.

I’m also a witch. Yes, you can do both. No, it’s not common, but it happens.

I’ve been fascinated by witchcraft since I was a kid. Charmed, The Craft, Practical Magic. I especially loved Willow from Buffy. I loved that she gained all this amazing power just from studying! Willow wasn’t born into witchcraft. This isn’t a legacy or a superpower for her. She chose it, studied like hell, and became as powerful as the Slayer.

So it’s no wonder that, once I finally started exploring witchcraft, I wanted my characters to explore it as well. I even included some actual spells I actually wrote in Quiet Apocalypse. In this way, I grounded the story in a bit of reality.

Yes, I actually do mean realistic. Because as a witch, I do believe in ghosts. But I also believe that ghosts aren’t the only thing that can get into your home and mess your life up.

However, I don’t usually believe in the chain rattling, blood coming from the walls, apparition sort of ghosts. No, the spirits I’ve encountered are a bit darker. A bit more clever.

My witchcraft experiences have encouraged me to write more about that sort of haunting. It’s less dramatic, but feels more real. At least, to those of us unfortunate enough to experience it.

Finally, both witchcraft and Christianity have made me see my writing as a sacred thing. A gift that I can use to make the world a better place. Or, at least make my life better.

Writing can be shadow work. I used it that way in Quiet Apocalypse. Writing can be a manifestation. Writing can illicit emotions or make people see the world in a different way.

Writing can change the world. At the very least, it can brighten someone’s life. I don’t ever take that for granted.

Witchcraft and magic have touched all of my writing. Woven is largely about the difference between religion and faith, and standing out in a world that wants to force you to fit in. Quiet Apocalypse is about the darker sides of magic fighting the light. And the thing is, this isn’t something I plan or don’t plan. It happens in the rough draft, and I decide to go with it.

That, I think, is the real moral of today’s story. Let the things that move you into your writing. Let the things that shape you into your writing. I could have written this exact same post about living in a Western PA steel town. Or growing up in a single-parent, single-child household. Or being a horror fan. All of these things shape who I am. So, of course, they shape the art I make.

Who you are should shape the art you make. And the good news is that this isn’t something you have to learn. Just let it come out.

Paper Beats World is a labor of love. If you love what I do here, please consider liking and sharing this post and leaving a comment. You can also support me financially on Ko-fi.

Spooky season is coming, and it’s time for some creepy reads. Check out my horror novel Quiet Apocalypse, about a witch trapped in her apartment during a dark winter storm with a demon devoted to ending the world.

Or check out my horror short, The Man In The Woods. A man tries desperately to protect his granddaughter from the mysterious man in the woods. But his fear only grows when a new housing complex is built too close to the woods.

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Some things are supposed to take time

I love a cup of coffee.

Yes, I am a cliche. I’m a writer and a Millennial woman. Of course my veins are full of espresso instead of red blood cells.

I make it each morning in a French press, one of the slowest and low-tech ways to possibly make coffee. I start with Cafe Bustelo grounds and a pinch of salt. (Listen to me. I said a pinch!) Then I put in a bit of cinnamon. I boil water in a kettle I’ve had for years, dressing and feeding the pets while I wait for it to sing. Then I pour the water into the press and give it four minutes to steep. The whole process takes an average of fifteen minutes.

It is the best coffee I’ve ever had. And it’s not the only thing I make that takes time. I make eight-hour roasts and garlic confit. While I have quite a strong relationship with my microwave, my favorite things take time.

Writing takes time. Writing books takes time. Sometimes, far more time than we, as writers, want it to. Publish or perish seems to be the name of the game, especially in the indie writing world. I feel like I’ve always got to have something new coming out. There’s a never-ending pressure.

Oh my God, it is such horrific pressure. When you make your passion your career, it’s a special kind of hell. One completely of our own making. Because it’s not just about creating anymore. It’s not just about writing anymore. It’s about building a backlog. About building a career.

This pressure has been killing me this year. Squeezing me until I can’t breathe, but I sure can be wracked with sobs. I published my latest novel in May of last year. And, I’m sorry to say, I will probably not be publishing anything until at least 2027.

That might be a miracle.

I’ve been writing. Not as much as I want to. But I’ve written two rough drafts for the final book in the Station 86 series.

I’ve written two rough drafts and thrown them out. Because they were just, just terrible.

Some things are supposed to take time.

Right now, I’m writing the third draft of a dark fantasy book. One that I hope to get an agent for, so I haven’t talked much about it. I have worked on this book for years now, in between drafts of Station 86 and AA. It is a passion project. I love it. I hope that someday soon you’ll get a chance to love it as well.

No one is waiting for this story. Well, the universe might be waiting for it. But I don’t have a handful of fans waiting for it. I do have a handful of fans waiting for the last Station 86 book.

I hope.

So when I work on the Station 86 book, the stress is there. The pressure is there. Time is ticking away, and every day means Station 86 fans might forget, give up, or simply move on.

This is the fear that’s been nipping at my heels. While I frankly have enough fear keeping me up at night. But for my sake, and the sake of my writing, I am trying to let go of this fear. It doesn’t serve me.

Writing takes time. Good writing takes time. And sometimes it takes walking away and taking a break to come back with the passion and creativity a project deserves.

I told you that to tell you this. If you’re a fan of Station 86, stick with me. This series is so very important to me, and I’m going to keep working on it until I give it the ending it deserves.

If you’re a writer who feels like you’re not moving fast enough, take heart. Good writing takes the time it takes. You’re not early or late.

And fans will wait. I know it’s hard to believe. To listen to faith over fear. But consider how long you’ve waited for the next book in a beloved series. Tamora Pierce published Tempest and Slaughter in 2018. The sequel is maybe coming out this year, but we don’t have a concrete release date yet. That hasn’t stopped me from checking monthly for updates.

I have a list of authors I check on upcoming releases for each month. That list includes Grady Hedrix, Stephen King, Danielle Valentine, Sylvia Moreno Garcia, Kirsten White, Paul Trembley,Tamora Pierce, Natalie Goldberg and Marcus Kliewer.

Some of those authors publish books yearly. Some don’t. I still check because their work is important to me. So if I’m willing to check for their work, why wouldn’t I think others might check for mine?

Why wouldn’t someone check for yours?

Like a good cup of coffee or a soul-nourishing roast, stories take time. Let yourself have the time you need. No matter how much time that is.

And yes, I promise that the last Station 86 book is coming.

Paper Beats World is a labor of love. If you love what we do here, you can support us by liking and sharing this post. You can also support us financially on Ko-fi.

Spooky season is coming, and Quiet Apocalypse is the cold, dark treat you need right now. Check it out here.

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When is the best time to make plans?

It’s the end of July. August creeps up to us with soft feet, barely making a sound as Summer clings on. Fall starts to ever so slowly make herself known.

This time of year brings out the poet in me.

August brings with it back the back-to-school season. This is often a time used for making plans and goals by people whose lives revolve around a school schedule.

For someone like me, who only knows if school is in or out if the yellow buses are making their rounds, this isn’t a time of year I start doing a lot of planning or goal setting. I set goals at the start of the year, breaking them down and modifying them by quarter.

Then sometimes something happens that makes me throw the whole damn plan out and start over. More on that soon.

There are many schools of thought as to when the best time for goal setting is. And as someone who really, really likes her planners, I love this. I love just about any excuse to sit down at my desk with my calendar and bullet journal, and dream on paper about what I can accomplish in a given period. It’s magical. There is my dream, my goal out in front of me. Now let me lay myself mile markers. Let me prepare so that I can bring this dream to life.

So today, I thought it would be fun to take a look at some of the most popular times to set goals and make plans. Let’s look at the pros and cons of each. And we’ll end with what I think is the very best time for goal setting.

New Years

Let’s get the obvious one out of the way first. New Year’s Day, New Year’s Resolutions.

I love this one, personally. Generally, December 26th every year is spent in the pages of my brand new planner, making goals and plans for the year to come.

There’s a lot of social momentum in this. Many of us are surrounded by people who are also making goals for the year. And it’s inspiring to have everyone on this same page, the first blank page in a book of 365.

But there’s a downside to this. First off, most people who set New Year’s Resolutions don’t keep them. So if you’re following that crowd, it might well lead you right back where you were. And you don’t like it there. That’s why you were trying to leave it.

There’s also a lot of pressure at this time of year to make goals. Which isn’t always a good thing. It’s also not a great time of the year for things like seasonal depression. Or, I don’t know, taking up running if you live somewhere where it’s still snowing.

So if you love planning in January like I do, awesome! If not, it’s okay to hit snooze on the whole thing.

Spring

Funny story, the new year used to be thought of as a Spring activity. Which makes a lot of sense to me. The weather’s starting to warm up, lots of cute things are having cute babies. And my seasonal depression has started to melt into Original Flavor depression.

Spring can be a great time for goal setting. Not everyone is doing it, so you don’t feel all of that social pressure. And if your goals include things that require you to go outside of your house, that’s a much more pleasant experience.

Of course, if your goal is to spend more time writing or learning a new skill, Spring might be a fucking awful time for that. After all, what’s more miserable than trying to sit at your computer while the birds are chirping and the iced coffees are calling. So plan your planning accordingly.

The start of a new school year

If you’re a teacher, a student, or have a student living in your house, this is a great time of year to make goals. Your routine just got a lot more structured. Or, at least, the structure changed. You’ve got different responsibilities, and often a lot more of them.

Even if you don’t have anyone schoolbound in your life, the start of a new school year can be a fun time to plan. All the good stationery is out in the stores. And there’s a sense of something starting. Something changing.

Back to school is also really busy. And for some people, this might well be the worst time to start making goals. It’s awfully hard to find some quiet time to make plans when you’re figuring out schedules, making carpool agreements, and being guilted into volunteering for school activities. It might be better to have plans and goals in place before the madness starts, not while you’re already getting used to packing lunches and coordinating football practice again.

Quarterly

There’s an argument to be made that making plans for a whole year at a time is maybe not the best way to handle things. And the older I get, the more this makes sense to me. Things change. Things we don’t see coming just come right on anyway without our consent.

For instance, I didn’t know in January that I was going to be caring for a husband recovering from a stroke and moving my house.

Making plans for three months can be easier. While the unexpected might still knock you on your ass, it won’t mess up your year-long plans. Because you didn’t have any.

Quarterly goals are also smaller than yearly goals. At least they’d better be. And this can feel far more attainable. It’s much less intimidating to break down goals. Consider writing a book.

After all, that’s what we’re originally here to talk about.

Writing a book is a massive, intimidating goal. Most of us can’t write a book in a year. Especially when we have so many other obligations. So it’s easy to look at that massive goal, that massive task, and feel overwhelmed.

Kind of like looking at a house that needs packing and feeling overwhelmed.

But if we break down everything into what can be done in three months, that feels more manageable. I can’t write a book in three months. But I can write a rough draft. Or I can commit to writing every week for a certain amount of time.

Anything is easier if we break it down.

There’s only one real downside to this goal-setting method. You might find yourself forgetting the bigger picture. Seeing the trees and not the forest.

In short, you might start to think small.

Thinking small for a while is great. Especially if it helps you get started. But we shouldn’t be thinking small long-term. There are too many big, beautiful things that we can do. And we should give ourselves the space to do them.

Right now

This is the best time to make a goal. Today, right now. As soon as you’re done reading this.

Sit down and write down one big amazing thing you want to do. Now, write down the steps you need to do that thing. Then, start doing it.

It’s just that easy and just that hard.

You want to write a book? Make a plan, and start brainstorming today. You want to start your own company? Great! Make a plan today. You want to get healthy, adopt a dog, buy a house. Figure out what you have to do, step by step, and start doing it.

We all have things we want to do with our lives. And we don’t have to wait for the start of a year, a quarter, a month, or a new school year to start making our goals real. We can start right now, on a random Friday or Tuesday. Right now is perfect. Go get started.

So now it’s your turn. When do you do your best goal setting? Let us know in the comments.

Paper Beats World is a labor of love. If you love what we do here, you can support us by liking and sharing this post. You can also support us financially on Ko-fi.

Falling From Grace is going wide! Click here to see all the places to get it.

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I was almost a Tradwife

I was raised to be a homemaker. I was raised in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, where being a wife and mom is considered the highest calling a woman can have.

My mother wanted to be a homemaker. My grandmother was a homemaker. My great grandmother was a homemaker. I was not encouraged to go to college or prepare for a career. I thought for sure I was going to grow up, get married, and be a homemaker.

I had an image of what my life was going to be like. I’ve wanted to be a writer since I was thirteen. So I imagined that I’d get married, raise babies, and write stories. I had these lovely fantasies about bouncing children on my lap while I edited manuscripts. Writing poetry while the meatloaf baked. Submitting queries while the children were at school.

I suppose that would have been alright. That would have been a nice life.

But life happens. I was a full time homemaker for three years, until I couldn’t handle the abuse at the hands of my previous partner. After this, I discovered that I liked working far more than I liked homemaking. So when my Darling Husband and I moved in together, we decided together that he would be the homemaker and I would work. We did have discussions about this, and decided it was the best plan for our family.

When we got married, the Darling Husband had some health issues. But he was mostly fine. In the past ten years, his health has gone downhill.

Way down hill.

Last December, as you might know, he suffered from a hemmoradic stroke. One moment, he was sitting in our bedroom. The next, he was calling to me from help.

The next moment, he wasn’t able to form sentences. Or move. He was moments away from death.

Now, I’ve told you all that to tell you this. I despise Trad Wife Influencers. I think they prey upon women, selling them fantasies that are unrealistic and dangerous. Using our inherent guilt and years of bad traditions, Trad Wife Influencers tell women that not only should we all want to be homemakers, but that we can all do it. They post videos of themselves making bread from scratch, dressed in immaculant prarie dresses while carrying cherubic babies on their hips in gorgeous well lit kitchens. And they say that we can do it too.

These videos are lies. They’re staged, produced, lovely lies. These women are business owners, lying to you to make money off of you. And these lies can destroy you.

If I had still been a homemaker when the Darling Husband had his stroke, we’d have been cooked. I don’t know what we would have done. But this is just one example of what could go terribly wrong. Consider my mother. Through no fault of her own, she never found a partner and so failed to be a homemaker. Or my grandmother. She was a homemaker until all of her children moved out, but suffered through not one but two abusive marriages.

Marriages might not last. Healthy men don’t always stay healthy. The cost of living is getting more and more expensive, and a lot of families can’t afford to live on one income. Not all women want to be homemakers.

None of these things are failings. None of these things are wrong. In short, it’s not your fault if you’re not able or don’t want to be a trad wife.

I do not say any of this to shame homemakers. I have nothing but respect for them. I was one myself, my Darling Husband was one before his stroke. I would even suggest that I am still a homemaker, just not full time. I do, after all, keep my home. I cook. I clean. I mend clothes. I crotchet and knit. I care for my Darling Husband and our pets. I even bake things from scratch sometimes. These are all lovely things that I take pride in. I do none of these things perfectly. Even if I didn’t have a full time job, I probably still wouldn’t do any of these things perfectly.

It would be easy to say that I’m a failed homemaker. Even if I didn’t want to work, I’d have to work. And I am just over women attacking other women for not reaching unatainable goals. I am way over ‘traditional gender roles’. So let me leave you with some advice. If you, man or woman, want to be a homemaker, consider this.

Get financially smart. Just because you’re not making money doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be helping to manage money. Learn about long term savings accounts and low stakes investing. Learn about credit, and how to use it to your advantage. And build credit in your name. Having no credit score is worse than having bad credit. It seems like a cheat, but it’s true.

Find ways to keep your hand in with some sort of career. Massive gaps in your resume aren’t going to help you if you suddenly need to get a job. Have a plan in case you suddenly need to step into the work force.

Have money of your own. Money that you have control over. Maybe you babysit, recycle for profit or sell handcrafts on Etsy. Maybe you and your partner agree upon a certain amount of money that is yours to save, spend or invest how you see fit. Remember, your partner benifits from your hard work. Domestic labor is labor and you aren’t being selfish asking for a safty net. I have a savings account set up for my Darling Husband for this exact reason.

Yes, all of this advice is about money. But, while I hate this, we will starve and become homeless without money. You need to be able to care for yourself and your family if the worst should happen.

In short, homemaking is not for everyone. It’s not desirable for everyone, and it’s not realistic for everyone. Don’t let someone making sourdough on social media tell you that you’re less of a woman if you can’t or don’t want to do it full time. Live your life, do your best, and do what makes you happy.

I am not living the life I thought I would. I am not living the life I was raised to live. I am living a much better life. One that is full of unexpected joys and surprising adventures every day. I have worries. I have sorrows. But I’m satisfied in the work I do in my day job. I am proud of the writing that I do. My home is comfortable, if not always tidy. My life is full of friends, loved ones, art, good food and good coffee. And good books, of course. So many good books.

Paper Beats World is a labor of love. If you love what we do here, you can support us by liking and sharing this post. You can also support us financially on Ko-fi.

Missing Stitches is now available wide. Click here to check out all the places you can get it.

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My thoughts on Nebula Con 2025

Last week I attended the 2025 Nebula conference virtually. And for something that only lasted two days, I am sure still recovering from it.

As always, I learned a lot. And while I was a little disappointed that there was only a day and a half of panels for online participants, it was still a worthwhile experience. And, for the first time, I moderated a panel!

Some of my recovery time might have been due to the social anxiety attack I had over that, but it was still fun.

Today I want to share with you some of the best lessons I learned this year. I never walk away from Nebula Con without learning something that uplifts me and helps me be a better writer. Hopefully, some of these lessons will help you as well.

Don’t take anything too seriously

Writing is a serious business that is populated by unserious people. Yes, working writers need to deal with dull and business-type things like marketing sales and pricing. Yes, to be a successful writer you have to treat the business side of things like a business. Like you have a product that you’re selling.

But you’re also making up stories about dragons, ghosts and spaceships. You’re still playing make-believe and putting it on paper. It should still be fun.

This is something that’s never forgotten at Nebula Con. If you’ve ever attended, then you know the running joke that we are, in fact, on a spaceship that we’re sharing with several fantastical creatures. For instance, space wombats.

It is a wonderful reminder that writing is supposed to be a little bit fun. Most of us started writing because we were voracious readers. Reading was the most fun thing we could think of doing. I spent a good part of my childhood, some might say too much, between the pages of one book or another. I was having fun. And I have fun when I’m writing. Even when it’s hard. It’s still supposed to be fun hard.

Writers are still some of the most fantastic people I’ve ever met

You know how sometimes you meet someone and you just click right away? That’s how I am with just about everyone I meet at Nebula Con. And I might be biased. Hell, I know I’m biased. But when you meet someone who speaks the same strange language you do, you feel like you’re a little bit more at home than you did before.

I was introduced to this queen

During the event, I attended a two-hour panel about career longevity. It was hosted by Becca Syme, author and career coach. And the things she said blew my mind.

Look, I’ve been around a bit. For someone to say something truly revolutionary for me is impressive. Because I’ve heard all the self-help and inspirational quotes before. Nothing’s been as motivational as her talk.

I don’t want to jack all her material, because you really should go check her out. I will only say that Loki comes into the conversation and it is life-changing. I now need to read all of her books and listen to all of her podcasts.

If you want to do something, go for it

Now, this is the main thing I wanted to talk about today.

I was invited to moderate a panel about cozy horror. To put it mildly, I was not prepared for this. I had never participated in a panel. Moderating the panel is like being the host. I was in charge of coming up with questions and controlling the flow of conversation. And most importantly, ensuring that we ended on time. All of this, and have my face on camera the whole time!

I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I put out a lot of content that does not include my face.

So I was terrified. This was dramatically out of my comfort zone. But it was also something that sounded like a good experience.

It should be no surprise at all that it was, in fact, a great experience. The people on the panel were kind, funny and very talented writers. I had a fantastic time.

So if you have the opportunity, get out of your comfort zone. Do something you’re scared to do. Prepare for it, learn what you need, and do it. And if you don’t have the opportunity, make one.

Also, if you’ve never been to Nebula Con before, consider checking it out if you can. I, and the space wombats, will see you there.

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Missing Stitches is going wide on June 27th! Check out all the places it will be available here.

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Care Giving

In December my darling husband had a brain bleed stroke. He spent two months in the hospital and then rehab before regaining the health he needed to come home.

But he wasn’t whole, or healthy. He came home and needed a lot of care. And while he’s improved, he still needs me more than ever.

Thank God I work from home.

In addition to some cognitive issues, he’s mostly paralyzed on his right side. His movement is coming back, but slowly. And so I find myself in another season of caregiving.

Nothing he needs is difficult. It’s only that the requirements are numerous. During the day I might be called from my desk to help him perform some basic functions. Or fix the TV. Or let in the many therapists that come into our home weekly.

He cannot cook for himself, so I cook for all of us. I am managing his medication and his insulin. I am managing as well his doctors’ appointments.

This isn’t the first time I’ve been called into a caretaker position. I took care of my mother as a teenager when she became chronically ill. I cared for my grandmother for a time after surgery. I cared for my mother-in-law as well for years when a simple back surgery led to one complication after another.

Caring for him is not easy. I’m not naturally patient or particularly nurturing. And while nothing I need to do is overly difficult, there are constantly things that need to be done.

Days feel so long sometimes. And it often feels like my brain is full of fiberglass, slowly yet constantly scratching and cutting me.

Two things can be true at the same time. I am frustrated with caregiving. But I am also so thankful that he’s home and alive. Because that was not a given when this shitshow started.

But we’re not here today for me to air my grievances or even rejoice in the fact that he’s still alive. I’m here because I’ve learned a lot about caregiving. And while I’ve spoken before about being a writer while also being a caregiver, I’ve never talked about specific caregiving advice. So, since that’s what’s filling up my days right now, that’s what we’re going to talk about today.

So here are some lessons I’ve learned in caregiving.

You’re gonna mess up

I have messed up so, so many times while caring for my husband. I’ve forgotten to give him his meds. I’ve accidentally tipped him out of his wheelchair. I’ve lost my temper badly enough that I needed to leave the house for a bit to calm down.

None of us are perfect. And when we’re caring for a loved one at home, we’re basically on call for a job we did not sign up for and are not getting paid for around the clock. So yes, we are going to make mistakes. But honestly, most of the mistakes are liveable. We learn, we correct, and we apologize when we need to. And we go on to make different mistakes the next day.

So long as no one’s bleeding and everyone’s breathing, we can try again the next day.

You’re gonna need help

This has not been a solo project on my part. The husband’s parents have helped when they can. We’ve had physical and occupational therapists in, helping him heal and teaching me how to care for him. His doctor has helped. And my friends have been a constant well of support.

Don’t be afraid to ask for help when you’re trying to care for someone. It’s a massive job, and no one should be expected to do it alone. You might need some extra cash, or someone to come help clean up the house a little. Even just someone to listen to you while you lose your mind a little. Lean on the people you have to lean on. Otherwise, you’re going to crumble.

You’re gonna have to let some things go

Sadly, a lot of my writing has gone on the back burner. Some days I get to it. Most days I don’t.

I don’t usually cook dinner. I get a lot of frozen meals, and we’ve been eating out a lot. I’ve also just straight-up made tuna sandwiches when I didn’t even have the energy to Doordash something.

Fed is best.

But my house has been messy, my writing’s been ignored. And sadly, I’ve had to say no to some opportunities I wanted to take part in.

Right now, I have to prioritize my mental health and his overall health. Everything else is debatable. Everything else can be put off for another day.

Don’t forget that ‘care’ is the first part of this

This was the hardest lesson I’ve learned. And it was one of the things I messed up a lot at first.

There are a lot of things that need to be done every day. The cleaning and cooking and caring for things like medicine and baths. The laundry is a constant battle. The dishes snicker at me when I walk past. At least two plants have died.

But the most important thing about caretaking is caring for this person. Making sure they’re okay emotionally. Sometimes that means just sitting with them, and letting them talk about their problems. Sometimes it means having patience to let them try to do things when it would be so much easier to do the thing for them. Sometimes it means holding a heating pad in place, or bringing another cool washcloth, or just assuring them that you’re right there, and you’re going to be right there, for as long as it takes.

At first, I was impatient with this part. I had things to do, important things that I had to do to keep us all alive. I didn’t have time to sit down and hold his hand through this. I needed to make sure he had something to eat and was clean, and doing his exercises, and a thousand other little things.

But none of that matters as much as the real caretaking work. The caring enough to slow down, and help the person you love process what the world looks like to them during this time.

Overall, the biggest lesson I’ve learned is this. He and I, we’re on this journey together. We’re healing together. And when I look at the situation that way, things are more manageable. It’s easier to keep everything in perspective when I see us as a team.

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Starting Chains is going wide on May 30th. Check out all the places you can get it here.

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The End of Haunted MTL

The publishing world is ever changing. What was a thriving online market yesterday could well be bankrupt tomorrow. A publishing company that was an unquestioned pillar can crumble. A beloved author can seemingly go out of her way to destroy her reputation.

And a beloved horror review site can shutter.

Sadly, Haunted MTL is no more. And, I might as well rip this band-aid off now, there will not be another season of AA.

I might write the story in book form, if anyone is interested. I was certainly going somewhere with the story.

I started working for Haunted MTL in 2019. I’d already published several novels by this time, but this was something different. This was an actual writing job.

I loved my time writing for Haunted MTL. I met so many amazing writers and made friends with several. There is nothing better than writing friends. I got to see horror movies that I might never have seen. Some I wish had never assaulted my eyeballs, like Antichrist. Some I loved very much, like Silent Night and Pooka. I conducted live tweet events during American Horror Story and Dexter, and got to talk to fellow fans all around the world.

Being a critic was a fantastic experience. If you want to be a good writer, one important exercise is to dissect a piece of work that you have strong opinions about, good or bad, and consider why it either works or doesn’t work. As a critic, that was exactly what I did twice a week. And I even got paid for it.

I was also invited to participate in several charity anthologies, which is always great. We conducted storytelling events through the years, writing short stories together. Including several years of Christmas and holiday horrors.

We did podcasts. We did events. We once read A Christmas Carol together and posted it. It was a laugh.

It was too good, maybe, to last.

I will miss Haunted MTL. I will miss the sense of writing camaraderie. Of being on staff. Of being part of a team.

But even as I mourn, I know it’s time to move on. As I said at the top, the publishing world is ever changing. And so even as this spooky door closes, another will open.

If you find yourself in this sort of situation, I’m so sorry. But remember, setbacks like this don’t necessarily reflect on you. Sometimes projects don’t work. We are artists, and art is subjective. Sometimes we’re going to do our level best and still not succeed. All there is for us then is to dust ourselves off, have a little cry, and write another story.

Then another, and another.

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Starting Chains is going wide! Check out all the places it will be available here.

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My local bookstore closed

For my entire life, there’s been a bookstore on my local Main Street. It was called Book Nook. And, being who I am and doing what I do, I loved that place.

It had old-fashioned wood-paneled walls. Shelves that smelled more like an old library than a shop. As a child, my favorite part of the store was the spinning rack of bookmarks.

Did anyone else have this weird bookmark obsession as a child? Fancy bookmarks were everything I wanted in this world. These days I just use any nearby scrap of paper. That’s a little sad.

Man, that place never changed. I used to beg my mom to take me there anytime we were on Main Street. At the time, Main Street was a place we were a lot. She worked at several different restaurants over the years. We lived in three different apartments tucked above stores. There was a little five and dime where I marveled at the fancy pens that looked like crystal. We ate at Burger Hut and the Hot Dog Shoppe. We used to have Woolworths until it burned down when I was a child, but I remember sitting at the counter and having milkshakes.

I remember the fire, too. The way the smoke coughed upwards in the sky and terrified me. I worried that it would come for us as well. I think I’m still a little afraid of that.

The five and dime is gone. The Woolworths is gone. Any number of other little shops are gone. The Unicorn Gift Shop, several antique stores whose names I’ve forgotten, a frozen yogurt place. There used to be a classy little bar where I watched presidential debates during the first Obama campaign, drinking Long Island ice teas with the campaign director in my town. Now it’s the classy little wine bar where I go to enjoy a glass of chocolate-flavored wine and read. Life moves on, tearing itself down, burning itself out, building new days and lives and stores upon the memories and ashes.

But not Book Nook. Man, that place never changes.

As a kid, I went there to buy Goosebumps and Babysitters Club books, series I loved equally. As a young woman, I waited outside the door for them to open the day the last Harry Potter book came out. The storekeeper there that morning was both confused and, I think, annoyed to have some overly excited woman in her early twenties waiting at her door. Apparently, this was a new experience for her.

I had my first book signing there when Broken Patterns came out. A copy of the book sat in the front window for months. They even hung up a poster from Starting Chains.

For months. To the point that it faded.

That place never changed.

That was a great experience. A young mom came in, clearly with just barely enough money to get her daughter a book. I gave her a copy of mine and she was thrilled.

I hope she’s doing alright.

I’d pop in from time to time. Sometimes I’d find great things. The author’s extended version of The Stand and American Gods. I impulsively bought some hardcover books that I still love to this day. Strange The Dreamer and An Absolutely Remarkable Thing.

But I didn’t get the sequel to either book there. They never seemed to get them in.

As other stores came and went, Book Nook stayed. Its new releases dwindled. Its stationary options did too, until they went away entirely. So did the bookmarks.

There were no cute impulse buys at the counter. The same counter with the same register that had always been there. Instead, there was a display of lottery tickets. And they clearly made money from the lottery tickets. Once during a book signing, I watched an elderly woman come in and proceed to purchase a scratch-off ticket. She scratched it with no joy, then bought another and another. She kept going for quite some time, scratching tickets with absolutely no emotion on her face.

It became a place that wasn’t fun to be in. Where I rarely if ever found new books I was interested in reading. The hours were erratic, so even if there was something there I wanted, I had a hard time coming in.

And it never changed.

Earlier this year, I received an email from the manager, telling me they were going to close and that I needed to come pick up my books.

Losing my local bookstore has left me with mixed emotions. They survived so much, hanging on through decades of Amazon encroachment and even the pandemic. But they never, ever changed. They never grew with the times. They did nothing to offer readers and buyers a better experience. They simply existed.

And now, they don’t.

I do not blame the store entirely. But neither do I blame competition entirely. Neither do I blame consumers entirely. But all three share a bit of the blame.

Myself included.

I could have been more patient and asked them to order the books I wanted. I could have scheduled more events there, even though the reason I stopped was that no one showed up to them.

But in the end, the issue lies with all three. We should shop small when we can. Big corporations should stop using such predatory practices. They won’t, but they should. And small businesses should put in the effort to grow and change with the times.

In the end, though, I don’t write this to blame anyone. I write this to mourn. No matter the reasons, my local bookstore is closing. The store I shopped in as a child is gone. And I hate that. So I just wanted to hold space for it today.

I don’t remember who said this, or even where I first heard it. But someone somewhere said that every piece of writing is a love letter or a eulogy. This was both.

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Broken Patterns is going wide on April 25th. You can preorder it now by clicking on the image below.

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