Thanks for Mentioning It

Writer and reviewer Martel Sardina professes a weakness for Pepsi. I should send a case of it to her for this mention in her review of Horror Library: Volume 3.

"In 'The Living World,' C. Michael Cook explores the motivating force behind one woman’s eating disorder, and caused this reviewer to suffer a loss of appetite herself. The scariest thing about this story was the realization that the patient’s logic is true."

Check out the rest of the review at Dark Scribe Magazine. And buy the book!

Short Short News

Terrific news that my flash fiction piece, "The Powers That Be," has been accepted into the Dark Distortions II anthology from Scotopia Press.

Flash fiction -- generally considered to be less than 1000 words -- can also be called a short short. In "The Powers That Be" men and women visit the site of a disaster and are transformed by what they find there.

Naturally, I'm delighted to be included, and grateful to the Dark Distortions editors Molly Feese and C.D. Allen for selecting my work.

Given the brevity of my story, I think I'll leave it at that.

A Quick Contest

There's little in this world that's better than free books, which is exactly what Cutting Block Press and Dark Recesses Press are giving away to celebrate the debut of the Horror Library, Volume 3 and Issue 10 of Dark Recesses Press magazine.

Just a few of the names you'll find in these two volumes of dark goodness: Bentley Little, Clive Barker, Gary Braunbeck, Jack Ketchum, Jeff Strand, Michael Arnzen, Kealan Patrick Burke, Cody Goodfellow and, naturally, me. (My story, "The Living World," appears in the Horror Library, Volume 3.)

All you have to do is post a comment on the Horror Library blog, by Midnight, December 14, 2008.

Winners will be selected by random, and will receive

First Prize
One Copy of Horror Library Vol. 3
One Copy of Dark Recesses Press #10
$10 Gift Certificate to the Horror Mall
Second Prize
One Copy of Horror Library Vol. 3
One Copy Dark Recesses Press #10

Third Prize
One Copy of Horror Library Vol. 2

Fourth Prize
One Copy of Horror Library Vol. 1

Deadline for the contest: December 14th at Midnight, Eastern US Time.

Make a comment, win a prize, happy holidays!

The Horror Library is Open for Business

The only thing better than seeing a book with your story in it is seeing another book with your story in it.

The Horror Library, Volume 3, arrived in my mailbox the other day, which means it's also arrived on store shelves and online. (While you're there, why not consider purchasing one or more additional products from Cutting Block Press?)

Naturally, I turned to my story first, "The Living World." In it, a young counselor at an anorexia hospital meets a patient who causes her to see the world in strange and frightening ways.

It's a pretty atypical horror story, and I have to give credit to R.J. Cavender, Boyd Harris and the rest of the Cutting Block gang for including it in what's considered to be one of the best (and I think, best-looking) anthology series in the business.

Now let's make it one of the best-selling, too, m'kay?

Wow

As a writer you often dream about someone, some day, saying something wonderful about your work. Sometimes -- when the words aren't coming but the rejection slips are -- that dream is one of the few things that can keep you going.

The reality, however, is much, much better.

In a recent interview, Unspeakable Horror editor Vince Liaguno singled out my story, "The Boys of Bald Cave," for some praise that still has me making nice, gentle orbits around planet Earth.

When asked if he has a favorite story in the collection, he says, "There is something insinuating and genuinely haunting about C. Michael Cook’s 'The Boys of Bald Cave' -- a story that has yet to clear my mind completely as a reader. The story has shades of the emotional resonance of King’s 'The Body' and It for me, a realism of male adolescence that rings true in every sense. There’s a bittersweet feeling of innocence lost at its core and a melancholic ending that profoundly affected me."

There's enough material in that quote for half a dozen knockout blurbs, and I still can't quite believe that it's about something I wrote -- especially considering the quality of stories and writers Vince and his co-editor Chad Helder have gathered in the anthology.

I'm honored and humbled and grateful as all get-out.

Now go buy the book already.

Unspeakably Thrilling

Two copies of Unspeakable Horror were waiting for me in the mail when I got home this evening.

If you've never seen your name -- or better yet, a story you've written -- in print before, it's hard to explain the excitement you feel when the real, live thing finally ends up in your hands.

More experienced and successful authors probably greet this moment with just a slight tingle of satisfaction. But for someone who's still a newcomer (and who still fights to find the time and motivation to write) it's a big deal.

Bottomless thanks go to Vince Liaguno and Chad Helder, editors of the anthology, for taking a flyer on an unknown and including me among many other, better-known authors.

Of course, the first thing I did was open it up and read my own story, "The Boys of Bald Cave." Not once, but twice. That's just the kind of secret egomaniac I am.

Now I'm eager to read the rest.

I'd like to believe you feel the same. So toddle on over to Amazon and order a copy. Or two. Or more.

Coming Attractions

The video teaser for Unspeakable Horror is out, and you can get your free copy right here.



Watch for my name. I'm "and 17 others." In all seriousness, I'm grateful to be part of what people at Context were calling an anticipated and prestigious anthology.

The Universe is a Casino

Albert Einstein famously said, "God does not play dice with the universe." His point (made in response to the randomness of quantum physics) was that the universe must behave according to laws that are observable, absolute and, ultimately, predictable.

While God (and Oprah, more on her later) may have the luxury of operating within this kind of well-ordered universe, the vast majority of us must get along as best we can by doing exactly what God can't be bothered with: playing dice. That, or roulette, blackjack, Texas hold 'em, slot machines or insert-your-favorite-game-of-chance-here.

This observation was inspired by a good friend's recent experience in a discussion at a well-known author's online writing forum. My friend responded to the request for "favorite writing rules" with several that have helped him, and was subsequently taken to task for some of them. Not only by the well-known author, but by his henchman as well, and in not one but two separate responses.

I left a lengthy comment supporting my pal which basically boiled down to calling bullshit on the author, his henchman, rules in general and the futility of following them specifically. It probably wasn't the most mature or well-reasoned response in the history of these things, but it did get me thinking.

As someone who's spent a great deal of time and money searching for rules by which to live a successful life, I feel I can speak with some authority when I say my search has largely been futile, and I suspect most other people's have been as well.

This isn't because we suffer from a shortage of so-called experts, each one offering (usually for a price) one or more rules that promise to help you earn more money, make wise investments, find true love, improve your marriage, land a dream job, enhance your career, write your novel or find an agent/publisher for that book you just finished.

No, the world is packed to the rafters with these folks. At best, their rules reflect the mysterious combination of hard work and good luck that happened to come up aces for them once upon a time. At worst, they're recycled platitudes that were pulled out of their ass and/or thin air.

This is why I do a slow boil every time someone like Oprah says something along the lines of "The universe responds to intention." In other words, if you want something badly enough and send out that desire to the universe, the universe has no other choice but to pony up and respond by delivering exactly what you asked for, like some great cosmic Santa. I would argue with Ms. Winfrey that the universe does not respond to intention so much as your personal staff and the entertainment industry respond to hundreds of millions of dollars, a terrific amount of perceived power, and your own stated wishes. Mere mortals and those whose lives relegate them to watching daytime talk shows must hazard a much steeper climb.

Back in the 1980s, Bally health clubs ran a commercial featuring Cher, in which she told us "if great bodies came in a bottle, everybody would have one." I believe the same could be said for best-selling novels, number-one pop songs, record-breaking movies and larger than average penises. If it were possible to cook these things up simply by following a recipe, they'd be as common as apple pies and chocolate chip cookies.

And yet, as writers we're among the most desperate of anyone to believe that the next book of rules or seminar or guru will be different. It's a perfectly understandable desire. Authors who have books to their name and a list of rules for sale must have their acts pretty much together. They must know what they're talking about.

Alas, I don't believe they do -- at least when it comes to passing along some great and powerful secret. This became clear to me upon reading Stephen King's On Writing. I opened that book with great anticipation, figuring that if anyone could describe the process of successful writing it would have to be Mr. King.

Instead, he pretty much admitted that even he doesn't know how he does what he does so well, and didn't have much more advice for hopeful writers than could be found in any number of other books on writing already out there. Read copiously, he advised us. Be a compulsive observer of human nature. Tell the truth. Write every day. Eliminate adverbs and cliches. He might as well have added "Finish your vegetables."

It's not that King's instruction wasn't generous and well-intentioned. It was. But after finishing On Writing I came to believe that either there was no secret, or if there was even he wasn't going to let the rest of us in on it.

Critics will probably consider this post the sour grapes of a bitter and disillusioned has-been to-be. If that helps them sleep at night and wake up in the morning refreshed and ready to face another day, I'm happy to be of service.

My point isn't that nobody knows what they're talking about and everyone is full of shit. Quite the opposite. I'm a big believer in learning the rules and playing by them, then breaking a few when it suits your purposes or you're feeling especially ornery.

But I do believe writing is as slippery and mysterious as life itself. And just as there's no formula for success in one there's no ten easy steps for the other. In the end it is, like everything else, largely a numbers game for all but a fortunate few whose number has already been called.

Seek out advice, but consider the source and its agenda. Use what suits your purposes and leave the rest by the side of the road. Look at what's already worked and build on that. Don't take "no" for an answer and stay at the table. Keep playing for as long as you possibly can and hope like hell your number comes up, too.

And keep in mind that everyone -- even and especially those you allow to teach you -- is making it up as they go along.

Happy Horror News

Just received word that the +Horror Library+ Volume 3 from Cutting Block Press has accepted my story "The Living World."

In it, an anorexia patient shares a secret with her young counselor, which causes her to see the world in a new and frightening way.

Of nearly 500 stories submitted, "The Living World" is one of only 30 selected. I'll be appearing with notables like Gary Braunbeck, Bentley Little, Michael Arnzen and my pal, Kurt Dinan. Actually, the entire anthology looks amazing. Even the cover is kick-ass. (The artist is Chad Michael Ward.)

Sincere thanks go out to R.J. Cavender and his editorial staff. I'm excited and honored to be included.

In Good Company

Today I can announce that my short story "The Boys of Bald Cave" will be appearing in the Dark Scribe Press anthology Unspeakable Horror. (That's the cover art there on the left.)

In it, two twelve-year-old boys awaken a malevolent presence inside the cave near their homes. When one later vanishes, the other covers up the true circumstances behind his disappearance and must live with his own guilt and shame.

All through the month of May Dark Scribe Press has been announcing their authors, and I'm pleased to say they've put together an impressive line-up. It's an honor to be included among them.

You can find out more about the anthology and its authors at the Dark Scribe Press web site.

I Got My Web On

It only took several years and a couple weeks' worth of perplexing work to finally get my own web site up and running. Thank the folks at the anthology for finally giving me the motivation to take care of business.

Stop by www.cmichaelcook.com for a close and personal look. But stick around here, because this is where all the heavy-duty action will take place.

Next step: Getting this blog to look more like my web site. (After working in advertising all my life, I truly appreciate the power of branding.)

The Time Crunch

Last October I left a career in advertising to concentrate on writing fiction -- a move that could justifiably be compared to quitting your day job in order to play the lottery full time.

My reasons were many and varied, but generally fell along the lines of really wanting to do it, being able to do it (at least for a while) and feeling that if I didn't do it I'd end up regretting it.

So from November of 2007 until April of 2008 I did nothing but stay home and write and spend my savings. I started a novel, and wrote three or four short stories, and even managed to get one into an anthology. It wasn't too bad for a beginner, but I didn't exactly take the world by storm, either.

Then in March I got an opportunity to take part in a 2-3 month freelance project and, smelling good money that would further finance my writing lifestyle, I took it.

I knew returning to a full-time work situation -- even temporarily -- would affect the time and energy I could devote to writing fiction. I worked full-time for twenty years, after all, and during that part of my life I never wrote consistently and only managed to produce a couple pieces of any consequence. Sitting in front of a computer all day does not predispose me to doing the same thing all night. But I figured that if I applied a little discipline and set a reasonable weekly word count for myself that, somehow, I would be able to do both.

Apparently I forgot just what the 9-5 -- or 9-6 -- routine, with an hour commute on both ends, five days a week, does to me. It's been a month now, and while I was fairly perky and determined the first couple weeks, things have taken a turn for the worse since then.

Last week I missed my quota -- a very manageable 1500 words -- and I'm beginning to wonder if I'll be able to make it this week as well.

At times like this I tend to beat myself up. The routine goes something like this: If I was really any good, 1500 words a week wouldn't be a problem, so I must be pretty shitty, and so why am I wasting my time at all, and it's a pity I don't like my job more, because it's obvious that's all I'll ever be good for, and doesn't that suck, and how in the world can I go on living like this, and what am I going to do?

Consequently, I've been thinking a lot about my friends John Hornor Jacobs, Kurt Dinan, Elizabeth Blue, Tracy Carbone, Martel Sardina and Tyler Monfredi -- all people who work full-time, raise kids and still manage to write. Or my friend Jill Olson, who works full-time, writes music and plays in two bands.

Sometimes I wonder how they do it. Sometimes I wonder what the difference between them and me is. Sometimes I wonder if there's really any difference at all.

And that got me thinking about people who have to work two (or more) jobs just to make ends meet, and how frustrated and despondent they must get -- not just from time to time, but all the fucking time.

It's one thing to work full-time and struggle to achieve your dream of writing. It's an entirely different one to work two or more jobs and struggle to achieve your dream of supporting yourself and your family.

Despite the tone of this post, I'm not complaining. I'm not that frustrated, either. Even at its worst I've got a better life than many people in the U.S., and most people in the world. I've got nothing to bitch about except having more desires than time.

And really, when you get down to it, isn't that true of everybody?

Where Are My Manners?

Last week Tyler Monfredi, one of the writers I met at the World Horror Conference, posted excerpts from an email discussion we had about the writing process on his blog.

It's an honor to be part of it, especially since other writers in the series include John Hornor Jacobs, Tracy Carbone and Hank Schwaeble.

John, Tracy and Hank all have interesting, revealing and valuable things to say. I mostly ramble on about the infinite number of drafts I have to produce in order to achieve something worthy of professional rejection. But alas, this is my cross to bear and now is not the time to complain.

Apologies to Tyler for not mentioning it here earlier.

Good News at a Great Time

While I was at World Horror I learned that a short story of mine has been accepted for an anthology.

The editors have requested my discretion -- they'll be releasing the table of contents and author list in April or May -- so unfortunately I can't mention the story or anthology's title at this time.

I'm honored to be included.

Day 10-14 - Salt Lake City, UT

World Horror 2008

This was my first real writer's conference. One day at Love is Murder doesn't really compare.

Writer's conferences are events where new and up-and-coming writers go to meet well-known authors, agents, editors and publishers, as well as other writers like them. And where fans and everyone else can rub elbows with the big names during whatever precious time is left. The whole thing runs on ethyl alcohol and everyone enjoys a wonderful ride, me included.

Based on excellent advice given to me by Marcus Sakey, I parked myself in the hotel bar on Thursday night and bought people drinks. I met Horror Library editor and writer R.J. Cavender, Cutting Block Press's Boyd Harris, the dangerously funny Cody Goodfellow, R.B. Payne celebrating a recent acceptance, Hal Bodner, author of Bite Club; re-met Tracy Carbone, and had a terrifically long talk with John Paul Allen, author of Gifted Trust and Monkey Love. I saw Martel Sardina and Eric Cherry from Chicago's Twilight Tales. And none of them promised me money in exchange for a link on my blog, though I couldn't blame you for thinking they did. I didn't get home until almost three in the morning, and for an introverted misanthrope who's usually in bed by ten, I think I did okay.

The next day I went to a few late panels, attended the first half of my workshop with Mort Castle, then went back to my room and spent the rest of the night there, nursing myself with take-out from the Crown Burgers across the street from my hotel and liberal amounts of HBO.

But by Saturday I was back in fine form, and the highlight of the day was the second half of my workshop with Mort Castle. Mort is a dark fiction legend who lives in the Chicago area, a terrific talent and resource to have nearby. Mort has written just about everything, and seen just about everyone try to write it, too.

And yet, rather than being jaded or harsh, Mort is one of the most serene and supportive teachers I've ever had. We wrote some short pieces after the first half and read them to the group the next day. Some were better than others, but Mort found something positive to say about each one of them and, better still, made it sound completely genuine and believable.

At one point Mort held his thumb and forefiger just a little bit apart and peered at us all from between the space. "You need this much talent," he said, then opened his arms wide and finished. "And this much ambition."

How many times have I said that ambition always trumps talent? (Only because it's obvious ambition rules the world, not because I possess these qualities in those proportions.) Mort, I love ya. Thanks for a great workshop.

It was during Mort's workshop that I also met John Hornor Jacobs, a hella talented guy who also knows one or two things about advertising. That's him on the right, and that's us on Sunday, craving bacon and eggs the way zombies crave brains. Mort's workshop is also where I met Tyler Monfredi and Petra Miller, two more promising writers who made the conference a lot of fun.

Throughout the con I also spent a lot of time with editor and writer Elizabeth Blue. I don't know if she'd appreciate me posting this picture of her or not, but I think she looks glam, despite Salt Lake City's dry, cold, unpredictable but generally shitty weather. I can't wait to read some of her stuff.

And those, unfortunately, are the only two pictures I have from World Horror 2008. Why I didn't take at least a hundred more is beyond me now, but it might have had something to do with not wanting to look like a total fanboy.

Which I think I did with Kurt Dinan. I saw him coming out of a panel and just shouted his name after recognizing it from reading Longtime Gone last month in Chizine.com. We talked for a bit, but Kurt was maybe a bit leery of my enthusiasm. Nice guy, though. I'll try to behave myself better next time.