Cover Reveal!

In the summer of 1898, Sequoia Owen accepts an invitation from his estranged uncle to visit his family’s summer home on Todeket, a private island off the Connecticut coast.

Yet the house, constructed by Sequoia’s unstable grandfather and the site of his cousin’s mysterious death, is a strange place. None of his odd relatives, who seem to have sinister agendas of their own, can agree upon the origin of the house, nor do they all believe the sightings of a ghost that haunts its halls, said to appear before tragedy strikes.

Trapped on the island by a storm, Sequoia must unravel the enigma of Todeket before the next life lost is his own.

The Island of Small Misfortunes will be published March 25, 2025. Pre-order is available now from Regal House.

NecronomiCon 2024

I’m very excited to read a short story at NecronomiCon 2024 in Providence, RI, on Sunday, August 18.

I will be reading my stories “The Half That Matters” and “An Incident on Mulberry Street” in the Narragansett Bayview Room of the Graduate Hotel, 17th floor, at 2pm.

I will also have a few copies of A Season of Whispers available for sale.

If you’re attending this year’s convention celebrating weird fiction, art, and all things strange, I hope to see you there.

Hear Me on the Six Degrees of Poe

Edgar Allan Poe Statue, Boston, MA

Recently I had a delightful conversation with Carmen Bouldin and Jeanie Smith, hosts of The Six Degrees of Edgar Allan Poe podcast. We discussed my books and projects, de-compartmentalizing history, my fiction writing process, and of course Poe. Head over to Spotify to listen how I memorized “Annabel Lee” in middle school, which of Poe’s stories is my all-time favorite, and why “The Man Who Was Used Up” resonates with me now more than ever.

You can listen to the podcast on Spotify or watch it on YouTube.

And in case you missed it, you can also listen to the 2023 interview I did with Sandy Carlson of the Woodbury Writes podcast, available on Spotify and Anchor.fm.

The Electrical Amnesia Machine

Tenebrous Antiquities: An Anthology of Historical Horror

Editor and publisher CM Muller has announced the table of contents for his latest collection, Tenebrous Antiquities: An Anthology of Historical Horror. This handsome volume includes my story, “The Electrical Amnesia Machine of Doctor Fallow.”

Cold steel encircled Everly’s head and for some moments Fallow fiddled with various adjustments and straps. Finally he said: “Now, Mr. Everly, we are alone. No one can eavesdrop. Please tell me about the thoughts you wish swept away. Different ideas and introspections exist in different parts of the brain and I must know where to focus our efforts.”

“Do I have to say? Can’t your machine determine it on its own?”

“I promise you that as a doctor whatever secret you feel is too onerous is no secret to me. Do not be ashamed.”

Everly shifted in his seat. The helmet or whatever he now wore was heavy and uncomfortable. “The sign outside said something about ‘terrible dreams eradicated.’”

“Ah — you have nightmares.” Fallow flipped and toggled switches on the machine’s trunk.

“I have a nightmare. Just one.”

“The Electrical Amnesia Machine” is set in 1909 during New York’s Hudson-Fulton celebration, which marked the 300th anniversary of Henry Hudson’s exploration of the Hudson River and the centennial of Robert Fulton’s demonstration of a commercial steamboat along the same body of water. Fortunately my local historical society possesses a copy of the committee report about the celebration (800+ pages!), which bursts with all sorts of details and data. Because a theme of the story is isolation within the enormity of a big city like New York, those same details were perfect to convey the overwhelming grandiosity of the event.

Tenebrous Antiquities will be published in June 2024. You can preorder the paperback or hardcover at the publisher’s website or preorder the e-book on Amazon.

Complaining Pays 0¢ per Word

A pair of friends are putting together an anthology of short horror stories written by Connecticut writers. To that end, one of them posted a submissions call for the anthology in the r/Connecticut subreddit. She provided the guidelines as well as the compensation: $20, a contributor’s copy, and a free PDF of any future books the editors produced under their imprint. Sounds harmless, right?

But this is Reddit we’re talking about. Immediately my friend was swarmed by keyboard Bolsheviks indignant at such exploitation. Only $20 for a short story? Outrageous! Nevermind the fact that token-paying markets (defined as paying $0.01 or less per word) are common in the genre world and nothing about my friend’s offer was unusual. One little Lenin claimed she had friends — close friends — who were HWA members and they would laugh at such an amount. “Your ancestors were probably slave owners as well,” snarled another self-styled Che Guevara. And thus a blow was struck against my friend, the capitalist pig-dog. Writers of the world unite!

You can certainly make money as a writer but writing fiction is probably the worst way to do it. A 2022 survey of nearly 5,700 members of the Author’s Guild revealed that the median pre-tax income for authors — both full-time and part-time — from their books was $2,000 a year. Yet their earnings jumped to $5,000 when all writing-related income was considered; according to the survey, “56% of respondents reported that such activities as journalism, conducting events, editing, ghostwriting, and teaching more than doubled their income.”

Not all of these authors are fiction writers, of course, but the survey does jibe with my own experience: the most lucrative writing is the unglamorous stuff. Copywriting. Technical writing. Journalism. Over the years, the best-paying gigs I’ve had involved ghostwriting, editorial work, or writing short nonfiction articles.

So if there are better ways to make a buck by writing, why write fiction? There are a few reasons. One, I enjoy it and take great satisfaction when a story or book comes together. Two, some readers seem to like what I write. And three, I own it.

It’s almost unheard of for a writer to sell their copyright to a piece of fiction, whereas journalism, ghostwriting, and the rest is often work-for-hire. That means you sell the copyright in exchange for a one-time payment. Meanwhile I can theoretically publish and republish a short story an infinite amount of times because I always retain the copyright. Same with novels and novellas. Should A Season of Whispers go out of print, I can republish it with another publisher or self-publish it myself — hardly worst-case scenarios. It will be mine until long after I’m dead and it joins Jay Gatsby and Mickey Mouse in the public domain. I should add that this goes for book-length nonfiction too, like Smedley.

A writer may not make a lot of money from an individual sale of a piece of fiction but those sales can accumulate over a lifetime; and obviously the more works one has to offer, the more sales he or she can potentially make.

While I would never write in exchange for that dubious social credit known as “exposure,” I’ve mentioned before that I believe there are circumstances in which it’s OK for a writer to sell their work for less than what they might otherwise expect. For example, I have no problem contributing a free blog post or article that advertises a bigger project of mine, like a newly released book. Or, for reasons of ownership mentioned above, selling first-time rights at a bargain rate may be in your interest if your goal is to create a body of work that you can hustle forever.

Likewise, should you feel called to write lesbian steampunk poems, then you probably shouldn’t expect whopping sums in return. But if your goal is to become the preeminent name in lesbian steampunk poetry with all the fame that it brings, then token markets may be solid stepping stones toward achieving your vision.

The key is to examine a given situation and ask, Who’s making money here, if anyone? If the publishers are earning substantial profits from the project, then you should absolutely receive a piece of that, either upfront or as a royalty. But many projects operate on much leaner budgets, like, say, anthologies of horror fiction meant to showcase the talents of Connecticut writers. I assure you my friends did not embark upon their collection as a money-making scheme.

In that case, it’s up to you to determine if receiving $20 in exchange for a short story is worth your time and energy. Ask yourself if it aligns with your goals and the ultimate vision you have for yourself. Maybe it does, maybe it doesn’t. There are nine and sixty ways of constructing a writing career — and all of them are right.