My next book, An American Monster, is almost ready for the beta readers. I have less than 100 pages left to edit.
I may write about my experience at the Borderlands Press Writers Bootcamp that I attended in January once I send off my manuscript. In fact, I probably should.
Speaking of the Bootcamp, I rewrote the story I submitted for it and subbed it to an open call anthology called The Twisted Book of Shadows. The thing about the boot camp is you get 26 different opinions regarding your submission. I read all the feedback, gathered a consensus, and went to work. The story is better. I just hope it's good enough to entertain, and sell.
The ideas keep coming at me. Underground gas pipe workers are in my neck of the woods and most are from neighboring states around me here in Ohio. A lot of those workers are staying at a local campground called Jackson Lake Park, a place where I used to sneak into as a kid to swim and find loose change at the bottom of the pool so I could play Pit Fighter at the arcade there. What if something sinister lurked in the woods? Something sinister, perhaps dug up by the pipeline workers comes to haunt them.
I've also been reading short stories by Louis L'Amour because I want to write a creature western. Can't write about the West if you don't read about the West.
I'd love to have the time to explore these ideas, but alas, writing is a marathon and the race against time only allows for the ideas that come forth the strongest. Still, I feel blessed to have found writing and am gracious that a few people out there seem to care.
True North, baby. Find yours and follow it.
Be good, folks. Kindness is free.