FIRST BOOK LOOK: Jason Bussman’s FUMBLE

First Book Look is an ongoing interview series that gives new authors a chance to talk about their debut titles.


Q: What is your new book called, and what is it about?

A: Fumble: Just a Dad Trying Not to Drop the Ball is a memoir about moments in my life when I have either dropped the ball or stumbled in some way as a parent. The first half of the book consists of standalone essays from fatherhood: moments when I learned a valuable lesson on how to interact with my kids. The second half is a compilation of moments from my childhood when I learned something. The hope is that these stories help shine a light on the dad I wrote about being in the first handful of essays. These two halves are separated by a halftime of sorts: two stories in which my wife is the key piece. 

Q: What was your biggest challenge in writing this book or in getting it published? 

A: The biggest challenge for me was perseverance. The constant state of rejection that you live in as a writer is something overwhelming and can be very unbearable. Luckily for me, I have a solid support system in place both at home and from my friends and colleagues. I just had to keep telling myself: all you need is one person to like it. Once that happens, everything clicks. And it happened. 

Q: What are you hoping readers will get from your story? What do you hope to leave them with?

A: I hope these moments I share are relatable to families: both parents and kids. By embracing my fumbles, I am hoping that people can laugh and embrace their own moments when they may have stumbled as a parent, or a son or daughter, brother or sister. This light-hearted look in the mirror of a memoir is hopefully something that one can walk away from with a smile on their face. 

Q: What has been your favorite part of being a new author, so far? 

A: I have had several conversations on some of the questions I raise in this book, and I find that is one of the most rewarding parts of being published. The conversations about telling my daughter to stand up to the boy who pulled her hair because he “likes” her, or whether or not I truly believe that a Star Wars character was as powerful as I think she was. The amount of support I have received from my community, colleagues, and family has been extremely humbling. 

Q: What are you working on next? 

A: Book Two of the Bussman Saga is currently in progress. I have a working title and a list of moments that I am hoping to convert to another collection of standalone essays. This one will be almost completely centered around me as a stumbling and bumbling father and husband. I also have an idea for one of my unpublished essays to become a much larger book-length piece centered around me as a fifth-grader. But that’s not ready to talk about quite yet….

WEBSITE: jasonkbussman.com

FACEBOOK: Jason K Bussman

INSTAGRAM: @jkbussman

SUBSTACK: @jkbussman

On AuthorCon V & Networking Etiquette

Photo, from left: Jamie Flanagan, James Sabata, and yours truly

This blog post needs to start with thanks. I appreciate, so much, that I got a chance to spend time with dear friends, and to meet readers, and to talk books, and to be just plain silly for a long weekend. Thank you to James Sabata for the invitation and to Scott Bradley and D.M. Guay and Jamie Flanagan for all the Spirited Giving magic; thank you to the con organizers and volunteers and charity coordinators, especially Brian Keene and Joe Ripple and Jake Lerner; thank you to all the attendees; thank you to all my fellow panelists and performers and to the staff at the Doubletree Hilton in Williamsburg, VA (and especially Regan and Chris!). Thank you to Sam Rebelein and Vin for being great tablemates (and for doing math for me). Thank you to all the lovely people I met. Thank you to readers and to folks who bought my books and folks who gave me or sold me their books. Thank you to everyone who helped us raise money for Scares That Care by putting cash in our jar to take pictures with us… I mean, with the twins from The Shining.

One of the panels I had the privilege of joining was on networking etiquette–what to do and not do, both online and in person at events (cons, readings, signings, etc.). This topic is important to me because I have some very strong feelings about it–the first being that I don’t really care for the word “networking.” It has, for me, the connotation of being shallow, self-serving, and fake, though the word’s denotation is more respectable, and hearkens back to (what I think are) its origins: it’s a chance to “work the net” with others–the way fishermen (and -women and -people) did for years. With many hands weaving and tying, together, these folks made one another’s nets bigger, and they mended any holes in the nets. While they sat around mending, they also talked, and got to know each other, and told one another stories of their trials and travels. I bet they laughed a lot, and sometimes cried together.

I use the term “community building” because that is what I’m doing at these events and online, with other writers and readers. It’s why I’m writing this blog post–to be helpful, and to help new writers (and seasoned writers) avoid some of the mistakes I’ve made, and that I’ve seen others make, often innocently or at least unknowingly.

The panel could have gone on longer this past weekend–I had three pages of notes (I’m a gal who brings notes). And while we covered a few topics, we had to (understandably) leave a lot on the table.

So I am writing this, now, to not only cover some of those things, but to reiterate the good points my fellow panelists (Joseph Pesavento: moderator, Rebecca Rowland, Robert Swartwood, Shane McKenzie, B.C. Lienesch, and John Lynch) made. I’ll number them to stay organized.

  1. Know why you are there. People come to conventions and other live events for many reasons. I came to help with a charity event (Spirited Giving) happening at AuthorCon V, to be silly and raise money with my friend (see photo), to spend time with the friends I already had (and miss), to talk to readers about books, to perhaps sell some books (I did!) and to meet other authors who do the thing I do. Yes, there were famous people there. Yes, I said hello to some of them. But, though I am, at times, a fangirl, fangirling wasn’t my intention for the weekend (though I hope I was as polite and respectful and appreciative as I meant to be–these are folks who succeeded at the very thing I am doing, and I look up to them as experts).
  2. Mind your substance consumption. If you like to have a few social cocktails (or whatever), cool, but keep it at that. (This is a mistake I’ve made–not trying to be a hypocrite here!) I have learned that events are way more fun if you know, for a fact, that you didn’t say or do anything you’d be embarrassed about later. Lots of folks get carried away at these things, having fun with their friends, but as my smart pal James Sabata said, if you wouldn’t do something around the coworkers at your day job, don’t do it around your colleagues at a convention. It’s still a professional space.
  3. Say thank you. Say thank you to everyone, all the time. Thank the host. Thank panel attendees and your fellow panelists and your moderator. Thank everyone who buys a book from you–thank everyone who even stops to look at your books or to chat with you. Thank the people from whom YOU buy books, or who give you books or swag. Etc. etc. The old adage applies: “Please” and “thank you” go an awful long way, and actually BEING grateful makes you feel kind of amazing.
  4. It’s okay to introduce yourself. Sometimes I forget this–I feel shy, or I can’t remember if we’ve met before so don’t want to sound silly, or I don’t want to interrupt the conversation happening. But it’s okay to just wave or offer to shake hands and say “Hi, my name is Rebecca. I don’t think we’ve met,” or, “Hi, I’m Rebecca, and I think we’ve met but I’m not certain.” That one is still a struggle for me, but I’m working on it.
  5. If you see someone sitting alone, invite them to your table or to your conversation. But if they say no, thanks, they’re alright, leave it at that. They may be purposefully taking a few minutes to themself, because sensory overload is a definite challenge at a big convention, or they are centering themself for something they are about to do–a reading or a panel or something like that.
  6. You don’t have to meet everyone every single time. It’s fine to say hello, or not, to the bigwigs in your genre. It’s okay to admire from across the room. If you have an opportunity and want to take it, that’s great. Tell them you admire a certain book or story or script–be specific–introduce yourself, and then let them get back to the event. They’re busy and you don’t want to monopolize their time. And if you don’t have an opportunity to meet them, or if you are too shy, or if it feels awkward, let it go. If they are having a closed conversation with their friends, definitely let it go. Remind yourself that it’s possible you’ll get a chance someday in the future to meet them. Overall, remember they are human. They get tired. They get overwhelmed. They get frazzled. They can’t be “on” all the time, nor should we expect them to be.
  7. Don’t prairie-dog. Some people have a cruder term for this, which rhymes with “jar-lucking,” but I won’t use it here. This is the unfortunate behavior I’ve seen exhibited many times whereby lesser-known authors or fans constantly pop their heads up to look around for the most famous person in the room, and make a beeline to them. And then they do it again, leaving that conversation if someone more famous walks in. And then they do it again, and again, and…you get the point. It’s tacky behavior and no one appreciates that kind of attention.
  8. Don’t mix networking with dating. Yes, some people meet at conventions and fall in love and live happily ever after. And that is nice. But most folks there are there to talk books and readings, not to find a bed-warmer for the night. Also, other people notice more than you may think they notice, and you might not want your personal “interactions” to become public gossip.
  9. Give the grace you get. This applies bottom to top. You forget people’s names, so don’t be annoyed or offended if someone forgets yours. If someone doesn’t remember your book’s exact title or cover or publisher, again, it’s not personal, and it happens to all of us. If someone needs to politely excuse themself from a conversation, say thanks and you hope they have a good night–because sometimes you need to politely excuse yourself, too. This applies to reading early review copies and writing blurbs and leaving reviews, too. Our good intentions are always going to outpace our capabilities. If someone thought they could help you and then couldn’t, well, take a look at how high your own TBR pile is before you get bitter about it.
  10. Support others, but do it genuinely. It’s the easiest thing, online, to hit the “share” button to help someone spread good news or promote their work. Share the posts of the successful people you admire, yes, but also share the posts of your peers and of people just starting out. If you have three more seconds, tell them “Congratulations” or “Very cool!” in the comments section. At events, tell readers and panelists they did well, and sincerely compliment what you liked about their performance or presentation. Don’t try to flatter or “kiss up” or gush (or whatever you want to call it) for the purposes of furthering yourself or your reputation. It’s transparently fake and no one is fooled by it, and you will only succeed in making people feel icky.
  11. Have a few conversational questions ready. This one comes from Jamie Flanagan. Instead of running up to people and saying “I love you!” and then going mute with embarassment (did I kind of do that to Jennifer McMahon in an elevator a few years ago? I did), have a few questions ready. They can be simple and should be appropriate. Examples: “What are you working on now?” (For writers.) “What genres do you like to read?” (For readers.) “What’s a good book you’ve read lately?” (For anyone.)
  12. At all costs, avoid public arguments, tantrums, and meltdowns. I don’t have to explain that one.

In summary, be polite to all, and be genuinely kind to anyone with whom you have interactions. If you meet people you admire, be careful not to linger if they are busy or perhaps looking a bit tired. Tell them what you love about their work and then let them get back to their activities. And don’t make every social encounter a transaction, seeing folks only as untapped resources for you to use.

I could go on and on, but for now, for what I wanted to talk about on my panel, for the smart things others said, for what I have noticed around me at many an event, I think that does it! Feel free to comment with anything I missed.

What NOT to say to publishers or editors on social media

I’m writing this post because of comments I have seen recently on social media in response to publishers’ “open submissions” announcements. Of course I will not name names–it’s not a burn post. But many of us have had to learn the submissions process the hard way, and I hope this post will help folks avoid the mistakes I’ve seen and the mistakes I’ve made myself. Now I can’t cover every faux pas here, and most publishers will absolutely overlook small mistakes and mixups. (Like, if someone wrote to “Undertaker Press” by mistake rather than “Undertaker Books,” no biggie.) Here are a few things to try to avoid, though, with some tips on what to say or do instead.

  1. Do not announce yourself like a boxer jogging into the ring.

This imagery comes to you courtesy of Heather Daughrity of Watertower Hill Publishing and Parlor Ghost Press. It’s the perfect analogy for what I have seen on these social media posts and in emails I’ve gotten as an editor.

Some authors, before even mentioning their current project or submission, feel they need to yell through a megaphone, often exaggerating their accomplishments, and generally putting their ego first. Not a good look, I promise you.

The place for information about you is in a short, factual, third-person bio paragraph you would include in a cover letter/email with your submission. Stress on “short.” (And do not put it on social media in a comment on a publisher’s post.) Start that paragraph with a personal note about yourself and follow it up with a few publications/accolades and then where folks can find more information about you (hopefully, your author website).

2. Do not beg, grovel, put yourself/your work down, or share a sob story.

Be friendly, confident, and at least a little bit professional. I have seen statements in the comments section like “I have a book that is like Star Wars meets Anne of Green Gables but you probably wouldn’t want to read it.” Problems: zero confidence makes me think it’s probably not that good, but also, you made up my mind for me, which is kinda rude and presumptuous. So let’s revise that. It would be much better if the person said something like: “I have a novel manuscript ready that could be described as a mashup of Star Wars and Anne of Green Gables. Beta readers have told me it’s a fun read and not like anything else they’ve read. If you’d like to take a look, I’ll send it along.” Of course, only say that if it’s true.

Other cringeworthy comments, which of course I’m paraphrasing/imitating:

“Wow I’m so glad to see this sub call. I haven’t had anything published in over a year because I had to move and then my cat died and I lost my job. I wanted to self-publish but I never really got around to it and I thought I’d never write another thing but hey, I could send something to you!” (TMI, and a weird vibe right away; might also signal to the editor, rightly or wrongly, that you would be difficult to work with and/or clingy.) Instead, how about “This looks like a great submission call and I have something that would fit. I’m excited to send it!”

“Oh cool I love your books! You put out the best books in the industry and I tell everyone you’re the best! Publishing with you would be a dream come true and would be the best thing that ever happened to me!” (Even if that is totally true, it SOUNDS like corny flattery. Compliments are appreciated, but in moderation.) Instead, try “You put out great books and have an impressive reputation. I’m definitely sending you something!”

3. Try not to ask questions in the comments section that could be answered by the publisher’s post itself or by a quick look at their website or social media.

Comments in this category of “Please No” are “What kind of submissions do you want?” (That will be in the post or on the website.) “What books have you published?” (Go to the website.) “Who else has books with you?” (Again, go to the website.)

It is absolutely fine and great to ask questions. Just make sure the questions you are asking can’t be answered by a one-minute review of the post or a quick website search. And, of course, since we all miss things that are right in front of our faces (because I have done this a million times), when you realize your goof, offer a quick apology. “Sorry! That was right in the post. My bad!” Editors and publishers are humans too. But you want them to know you don’t take their time and attention for granted.

4. Do not say rude things.

I cannot count the times I have seen absolute rudeness in response to publishers’ submissions calls: “Why would I even submit to you? You’re a joke.” “My work is worth money. Recognition doesn’t pay my bills!” “You aren’t a professional magazine if you don’t pay writers!”

Lordy. This is one of those “Don’t like it? Keep scrolling” situations. It’s true that editors/publishers should announce whether or not it’s a paying publication. But when it does not pay, or when the payment is token, don’t be nasty, and don’t assume every other writer out there has the same publication goals you do. A friend of mine submits work to non-paying calls, because he’s just trying to meet other authors and folks in the industry, and get his name out there. I have submitted to non-paying calls because the publication’s theme is really cool, or I like what they put out, or it’s for a charity I care about , or because I know the editor to be great, or because I know that publisher submits authors’ work for awards like the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net. Maybe a writer is just starting out, and getting a story or poem in a non-paying publication would mean the world to them. Do what you want to do, submit or don’t, but keep the vitriol to yourself.

“I’d never submit work to you! You’ve published [author I hate/author who has behaved badly]!”

Okay. I know this is a tricky one. But think before you type.

It could be that yes, a publisher has put out a book by someone who acted badly. We’ve seen it all too often in the horror community. But when did they put out the book? Was it BEFORE the author in question was known to be a jerk? Could the contract have been signed before that point? Contracts are legal documents, and before you type an angry comment to this here post lemme ask you: Are you a lawyer? A judge? If not, still those itchy fingers. Some publishers have what is often called a “behavior clause.” This usually means that, should an author behave badly, in any number of ways, the publisher can immediately cease production of their book and the contract is void. But if a publisher does NOT have this clause, they may be stuck with that author and that book, at least for the duration of the contract, which can range from six months to several years.

Here’s something else that a lot of righteously angry people won’t want to hear: People change. PEOPLE CHANGE. They are capable of personal growth, and learning, and repentance, and behavioral correction. It’s possible that a person did or said something terrible a long time ago, and has since become a better person. (This applies to like, non-felonies, of course–I’m not saying you should forgive every murderer and assaulter out there.) There is an expression I love: “When you know better, do better.” I’m not going to hate anyone because of something they said 20 years ago. I’m sure that I myself said horrible things 20 years ago, when I was young and ignorant and sheltered. I’m sorry for all of them, even the ones I don’t remember saying (because alcohol and I were way too close in my 20s). So I will give people the grace that I hope to receive. People. Change.

I’m going to stop there. Happy posting and happy commenting, everyone.

Why no author account?

Why I choose not to create separate author accounts on social media

(Picture: This is me, circa 2020, hanging out with Ra, one of the shelter dogs at the place where I volunteer. He loved to cuddle and weighed about 90 pounds.)

I definitely understand why many authors choose to create separate profiles for their writerly selves on social media. For one, many authors write under pen names, so having only personal accounts wouldn’t make any sense–fans and readers couldn’t find them! Some writers have concerns about privacy for safety’s sake, or because their bosses wouldn’t be cool with what they publish. Another reason is that people share family pictures and other “close circle” content on their personal accounts, and to them it doesn’t feel appropriate to combine those with their posts about books and publications. Still another reason, related of course, has to do with “branding.” And for me, that word opens a can of worms.

My brand is me.

I understand branding and its necessity. I understand wanting to convey to readers what your “vibes” are–what you write, what you like, what your literary aesthetics are. But, several years ago I went through some workplace turbulence and, when things settled down, I realized I could no longer hide aspects of myself, or pretend to be what I’m not, for the sake of someone else’s idea of “professionalism.” Instead I opted for a sort of radical honesty when it came to my representation of self. No masks, no layers, no separation. People could take me for me or not take me at all.

And why can’t authenticity BE a brand, anyway? Why shouldn’t my students and coworkers and editors and readers and childhood friends and gardener friends and writer friends and dog-shelter-volunteer friends and family members get the same version of me?

It can; and, no reason.

It’s all in my writing, anyway.

My poetry collection, In Memory of Exoskeletons, is full of my thoughts and experiences–all very personal. There are poems about my grief over losing my mom as a kid, my own mental health struggles, my love for my husband, my feelings about the way society disregards “women’s work,” how much I love dogs, my garden, body dismorphia, and more.

My memoir and craft text, Creep This Way: How to Become a Horror Writer with 24 Tips to Get You Ghouling, rehashes all of my writerly attempts and failures over the course of the last, oh, twenty years. I admit there that a mean editor made me cry. I recount how terrified I was to go to my first StokerCon. My skeletons don’t live in my closet. They dance around the living room.

Any stranger who reads both of my books will pretty much know everything about me.

My friends are my readers.

Maybe I’ll make national book lists at some point in the future and people far and wide will get used to seeing my name on book covers. But, well, probably not and, even if so, that’s a way’s away. For now and maybe forever, the main readership of my books is made up of my friends and family. All those folks in my personal life. Like, my readers wouldn’t have to look up some interview if they had a question about my work. They could just, you know, text me.

I already can’t keep up with my accounts.

I tried TikTok and failed; deleted the app. I tried SnapChat, and same thing. I’m on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, and Threads. I have a hard enough time dealing with those–the only place I consistently hang out is Facebook, because that is where all of my work threads and friends threads exist. There’s no way I’m adding professional accounts to that list–it’s already too long.

So, if you want to make separate author or professional accounts, do it, especially if you have privacy or safety concerns. But it’s not mandatory!

OMG I’m Writing a Novel

Photo of shark by freepik.com

During NaNoWriMo 2022, I wrote 20,000 words of absolute crap. But for the first time, I took an idea that had been swirling around my brain for a year and put some of it down on paper (the screen).

In December, I returned to an almost-finished novella and revised/edited/proofread hard, getting that sent out before the year’s final clock struck Done. Which meant that in 2023, I was ready to focus almost entirely on that pile-of-shit novel draft. (And Mae Murray’s goal-setting workshop in early January was great!) I got to work. I revised. I deleted (I deleted SO MUCH). I rewrote. I made note cards, which ended up being so helpful.

I signed up for a little writing retreat at the campus where I teach (thank you, Dawn!), and made quick progress. By the time that retreat ended, I had 70-ish pages of worthwhile draft. Not final, but promising.

Then, in an online horror group (sorry can’t share that, it’s Top Secret), I asked if anyone would novel-buddy with me. Because asking someone to slog through your novel draft with you is a HUGE ask–so someone else asking you to do the same makes the whole thing less heavy, and you don’t have to give anyone your first-born child, or in my case, your beloved chubby beagle. It’s a bartering of slogging. And I got a novel buddy! (Thank you, CO!)

To my utter amazement, he LIKED WHAT I HAD. He said it was interesting, engaging, and that the pacing worked. In fact, after he read the chunk I sent him (about 50 pages), his only suggestions were additions and expansions–which was wonderful, because the thing with novels is that you need a lot of words in them, and that can be tricky (you wouldn’t think it would be tricky for me–most of the time I can’t shut the fork up). I added a short scene near the beginning and expanded two others. Then I moved forward, revised some more, and I can’t wait to send him the next chunk–but, I want to hit 100 pages of decent material before I do. Then I will be at roughly the halfway point with the manuscript–I will end up with something like a 60k-word novel. It will not be a 400-pager–I’m a Chatty Cathy, but not that chatty.

In Mae’s workshop on Jan. 6, I wrote out a timeline–goal months by which I would have so many chapters done, because at that time, I thought I would try to get the novel done (a spiffy draft to send out to publishers for consideration) by the end of the year.

Now I have moved up those goals. I want to finish this sucker by the end of the summer. And I think I will actually do it. And that thought has had me floating around for a week.

I’m writing a novel.

I’m writing a novel.

I’m writing a novel.

(And it’s the first of a trilogy.)

Writing Ninety-Nine Fire Hoops: Guest Post from Allison Hong Merrill

The blog took a spring break, but is back with Allison Hong Merrill, author of the bestselling and award-winning memoir Ninety-Nine Fire Hoops. Here, Allison tells us about the process of rebuilding and restructuring her memoir after receiving beta reader feedback, and shares some of her best writing tips. Thank you, Allison!

When reading a book, I like to see the hook, setting, character, and conflicts of the story set up within the first few pages. So I make sure to offer my reader the same gift.

Originally, my memoir, Ninety-Nine Fire Hoops, was written in a nonlinear structure. But several of my beta readers suggested that I revamp the entire manuscript and change the narrative into a chronological timeline, so I did. It was a huge undertaking. The manuscript went through twelve full revisions. On average, each pass took two weeks. And when I say, “I revamped the entire manuscript,” I mean I even changed the title. It went from Grafted Mandarin to Ninety-Nine Fire Hoops because the new structure is in ninety-nine short sections. But even after this major overhaul and subsequent edits, the first ten pages remained unchanged from the first draft to the published book. It’s because the inciting incident, setting, main characters, and conflicts of the story are established within those pages.

When writing a book, I like to do the following:

1. Imagine my book adapted into a film, then I write scenes and dialogue as if describing them from the movie.

2. Do book research and save images on pinterest.com to create a mood board for reference. For a visual person like myself, this method works really well.

3. I make myself a different writing-related promise and a reward every week. This is not a goal; it’s a promise. A goal is for reference, a promise is to be kept. Some examples of my promises are: write an hour every day, revise a chapter, create social media content. If I keep my promise that week, I reward myself. My top three rewards are: watch a movie, buy a cute notebook, sleep in on Sunday morning. If, for any reason, I fail to keep my promise, then I give myself a second chance in the following week to restore my integrity and try again. Sometimes it’s necessary to promise myself to practice the art of self-care. I’ll take a week off from writing to recharge my creative energy. I work with another writer as accountability sisters. We check in every Saturday morning to support each other and to celebrate our victories, big and small.

4. I’m a memoirist. To dive deeper into my memory, I keep a tin box of NIVEA crème on my desk. Its distinctive scent takes me back to my childhood years and, from there, I get to explore the past and find inspirations for my writing projects. Smell triggers memory. If you’re writing about your past, please consider keeping something (lotion, soap, shampoo, perfume, scented candle, essential oil, etc.) on your desk with a scent that reminds you of the olden days.

5. Because I’m a visual person, instead of setting a timer on my phone, I flip over a sixty-minute hourglass on my desk to help me stay focused on one-uninterrupted-hour of writing.

I hope you find these tips helpful. Happy writing!

Juggling WIPs

The view from my office window.

This is not trying to be instructional. This is more or less a rambling cry for help.

How do you decide what to work on and when, if you have lots of writing projects started? Especially if demands in your life are all grabbing at your legs like toddlers? (Some of you likely have actual toddlers grabbing at your legs.) I have to get a lesson plan ready for Intro to CW class at 4 today and proofread a typeset novel for my other job. But I’m distracted by thoughts of the last two stories I need to finish for my speculative fiction collection, and the poem that’s almost done but not quite, and the essay about writing I started yesterday that today I’m thinking might be garbage (and if it is, how much time I spent on it).

I also saw a sub call yesterday for ghost stories (Can I write one by the end of May?) and a horror poetry collection that doesn’t accept simsubs (Where do I have that one poem out? Must remember to check my sub list). There are several titles I’m trying to read before StokerCon, too, so, of course, add reading to the to-do list.

How do you focus? How do you organize your projects? Do you have an order of importance, and if so, is that by deadline or by interest? I’m excited about everything, and I love having a lot going on, but instead of doing any of it, I’m staring out the window.

“We don’t create feminist horror; it imposes itself upon us,” an interview with Lindsay Merbaum

Lindsay Merbaum is a queer feminist author, workshop leader, high priestess of home mixology, editor, and more. Her debut novel, The Gold Persimmon, is available now.

Q: Feminist Horror is not new, but it does seem to be experiencing a bit of a renaissance. Can you tell us a little about the genre and its unique opportunities, and why people are celebrating it right now?

A: Feminist horror is borne from the experience of femmes and/or the female-bodied. Often our first encounter with real-life horror involves subtle interactions with imposed gender norms, or not-so-subtle acts of violence such as bullying, assault, and rape. In this sense, we don’t create feminist horror, it imposes itself upon us. In a time of renewed fascism, where the right to abortion access is disappearing before our eyes, where rates of domestic violence have soared during the pandemic, as the Earth continues to heat up, causing death and destruction, there is a renewed interest in finding ourselves in the stories that employ speculative and horror elements to address real-life occurrences. Fiction often expresses the unspeakable and, in this case, feminist horror explores the monstrous nature of misogyny in all its forms. 

Q: Your novel The Gold Persimmon has just debuted, to rave reviews, and is unlike any other work out there. Helen Phillips said “The Gold Persimmon is a place where grief, sex, and mystery mingle,” and the novel has been called “dark,” “experimental,” “queer,” “feminist,” “horror,” “eerie,” “atmospheric,” and more. How did you conceptualize this? Did you consider its classification as the story developed, or did you leave all of that to sort itself out later? 

A: I spent many years writing and re-writing The Gold Persimmon, but the only classification I applied to it was fiction. Of course I knew it was a queer book, but I didn’t realize others would see it as experimental, or even feminist horror, until it started to reach a wider audience outside of my editors and former agent. I think I wrote it the only way I could, in the only way that made sense to me. It turns out what I wrote is shocking to some, and deeply unsettling not only in content, but form as well. Readers find the shift from Part I to Part II to be jarring. They find themselves lost at times. To me, this contributes to its effect as a work of horror. I also believe that every reader’s experience of the text is valuable and interesting, regardless of whether or not they pick up on the connection between the two narratives the book contains. 

Q: In addition to being an author, you are also a mixologist and a workshop leader. How do these different parts of your life fit together?

A: I like to say I have two passions in life: books and booze. Mixology provides an outlet for bringing the two together, as I continue building a library of booktails: cocktails and mocktails inspired by books of all kinds. This work actually involves so many more passions, however, like photography, sculpture, and playing with food. I’ve got white chocolate skulls and marzipan teeth lying around, not to mention all the pounds of sugar I’ve dyed and scattered about. What I read is now largely dictated by what drinks I want to make, or by the authors who commission me to booktail-ize their work. As a result, I’ve gotten the chance to expand the scope of my reading and delve into genres I’d never explored deeply, like romance and sci-fi. It is an expensive project, though, both in terms of time and materials.

[To find out more about Lindsay’s booktails, including personalized potions, Ostara cards, recipe packages, and book + recipe bundles, go to her website.]

Q: What are you working on right now? Why are you excited about it (or them)? 

A: I’m slowly building a proposal for a book of booktails. My next novel is also currently out with beta readers. It’s about a magical midwestern queer bar, a locus for the riotous convergence of witches and goddesses. Though I pull from several mythologies, Sumerian myth looms largest, with the goddess Inanna taking center stage. Fun fact: the earliest recorded poetry was composed by Enheduanna, a Sumerian high priestess of Inanna. Born around 2300 B.C.E., Enheduanna was the high priestess of the most important temple in Ur, a city in the south of Sumer that embodied the culture of the time. She lived eleven hundred years before Homer–around five hundred before Abraham–and wrote her poetry about three hundred years after the cuneiform vocabulary had just developed to a point where poetic phrase was even possible

My next-next novel was inspired by Sami ancestor worship and the belief in an afterlife that is right under our feet, our steps mirrored toe-for-toe by those who came before. It’s the story of a lesbian marriage and it’s kind of like a combination of Outlander and Being John Malkovich.

“I look at everything as a story,” an interview with Christina Consolino

Christina Consolino, senior editor at Literary Mama, freelance writer and editor, and author of the award-winning novel Rewrite the Stars, shares what it was like to launch her first book during the pandemic, what she’s working on now, and why writers should always, always pay attention to the world around them. Thanks, Christina!

Q: Happy Book Birthday! You launched Rewrite the Stars during the pandemic last March, a novel that has landed as finalist for several awards and garnered an impressive list of blurbs. What was that experience like? What were the highs and lows of debuting when the world was (and still is) knocked sideways?

A: Thank you so much for having me here! It seems hard to believe so much time had passed! I signed a publishing contract in April 2020, after much of our world had effectively shut down, and my novel debuted in March 2021. Because Rewrite the Stars is my first novel, I had no experience to compare its launch to. In retrospect, I think that’s a good thing—my bar was set pretty low! (Which seems like a horrible thing to say as I strive to be an optimistic person.) Everything I did to get the book ready for publication and beyond—approach authors for blurbs, submit to awards, pitch to podcasts and the launch itself—was done virtually. As an introvert, I found the virtual route easier than if I had to do anything in person. As a woman with many obligations, I also found it easier to plan for a Zoom launch because finding an hour to do something is far more palatable than finding two hours.

Because I debuted a year into the pandemic and the world was used to the virtual platform but not completely fatigued by it yet, my launch was well attended and held an abundance of energy. I consider that launch a highlight! Having never had a novel out in the world, it was wonderful to see readers, supporters, writing partners, friends, and family with my book in their hands. A low point for me involves the lack of interest by the library and bookstore in the city my characters visit on vacation. The library especially plays a role in the story (and in my life when I visit), and I would have loved to find my book there or even hold a virtual reading. And while reader reviews have been positive, because the number of in-person events has been limited, the connection I’d love to forge with the reader has been dampened. (Thankfully, some readers feel comfortable emailing with a line or two about how the novel affected them. These words mean so, so much to me!)

Overall, the experience enlightened me to what an author must do to launch a book and keep the book present. It also showed how adaptable (or not) the book industry can be. I hope to apply everything I learned to the next book.

Q: I am always interested in a writer’s “other selves,” and the way those interests and lifestyle facets work together. You are a scientist as well as an author, having taught anatomy and physiology at the college level for years. How does writing affect your scientific brain, and how does your knowledge of science affect your writing?

A: Writing has always been near and dear to my heart, and years ago, I grappled with the choice to pursue a creative degree or a more practical degree. With guidance from well-intentioned parents who wanted me to be able to support myself fully, if necessary, I chose the practical route and earned a doctorate in physiology. But even as I lectured on the cardiac cycle or the structure of skeletal muscle, a little voice spoke to me. “Write,” it said. While my children—I have four—were little, that meant blogging; it’s all I had time or energy for, and capturing snapshots of our lives then, maybe inserting snark or finding the humor in them, fulfilled me. A decade ago, though, the voice changed from the generic one prodding me to write to a full character telling me their story. As you might know, it’s difficult to ignore a voice that’s constantly pestering you!

That’s a lot of (perhaps unnecessary) backstory, but I share it because the answer to your question took me years to fully realize. When I reflect back on my time in graduate school—even just the application and interview process—signs pointed to my true desires to write. At my interview with the graduate school chair at the time, a gastrointestinal physiologist, he said, “Your essay is quite different from what we normally see. It’s a beautiful story.” I often think back to that hour I spent with him. What if I’d recognized then that my stories needed to be told? Would I have left the physiology department with a polite “Thank you for your time,” and applied to English or creative writing instead? Who knows?

My point: I look at everything as a story, and I want to connect the dots, find a structure, and produce a storyline. When I taught, my lectures had a beginning, a middle, and an end, and the “story” flowed, and I chose my words carefully, much like a writer does. And now, though I don’t teach science, I use that background every day, either in writing or in freelance editing. Being able to formulate questions, make suggestions, dig deeper, and test hypotheses serves me well in the writing arena and allows me to ask questions or hold a perspective that not everyone else has. Furthermore, most of my fiction revolves around some physical or mental health issue—the science lover in me still exists—and knowing the disease processes, how the body works, and what questions to ask puts me at an advantage when it comes time to do research.

Q: What project or projects are you working on right now? Why are you excited about it or them?

A: My work is mainly categorized as women’s fiction, and my next novel, The Chocolate Garden, is no exception. The story centers on seventy-seven-year-old Frank Raffaelo, a retired serviceman who loves his family but doesn’t always understand them or their motivations. An accidental fall forces Frank to face a fear—that his memory might be failing him—and rely on his three children: Gabe, the oldest, who’s overseas; Nico, the youngest, who is keeping a secret from his family; and Marissa, the middle child, who wants to feel like she belongs and matters to her family. Marissa is also a nurse practitioner, and with time, she realizes that while Frank might not show any abnormal cognitive changes, his wife of forty-two years, Angie, does. When Angie’s denial of her symptoms results in dangerous consequences, the Raffaelo family understands that life as they know it is about to change.

In 2015, my mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease. That summer, I spent many hours with my parents, and I sat with my mother as she was assessed for cognitive changes and diagnosed with “changes consistent with Alzheimer’s” (definitive diagnosis can only occur upon autopsy). Since then, I’ve taken on the role of point person for her health and well-being. This book reflects my experiences since that summer and exposes the toil and hardship that dementia can cause for partners and families. I hope it resonates with readers who have had similar experiences and helps them realize that they and their loved ones aren’t alone.

Aside from The Chocolate Garden, a few other projects are also in the works, but it’s a little early to divulge any of their secrets!

Q: Finally, I believe the writing community thrives when writers support one another and share their experiences. What advice do you have for the rest of us for hanging on to our creative selves when life is so messy? What techniques can you share with us for finding energy when we’re running low on it? 

A: Finding solace in writing—which, for me, is usually a solitary affair—is something I do every day. Shutting off from the real world is integral to maintaining my personal health and well-being (and sometimes, those characters just won’t be quiet!). Times exist, though, when my virtual writing friends are just what I need. Despite my ineptitude with social media and my dislike of the venue, there’s a draw there, and it comes from the writing community. They are a generous, welcoming, safe lot that understands why you’re stressed about life. They know how difficult it is to find minutes to write between parents or kids or grandparents or jobs or partners or bouts of loneliness. They understand that messiness and offer you a listening ear, advice, encouragement—whatever you need. So one tip would be to involve yourself in a good writing community and become involved. And by involved, I mean don’t just lurk there (though that’s a good start!). Participate in whatever way you can. Comment on a post, share a post, read a book and review it. Make friends! These folks will be your lifeline through the whole publication process.

As for hanging onto creativity and finding energy . . . I think it’s important to have other creative outlets that bring us joy. When a story just isn’t working for me, I often bake. The process soothes me, I enjoy it, and I always have a finished product (that usually tastes great). Somehow, being able to hold something concrete in my hands energizes me and clears my head. Walks outside also help; the air and nature rejuvenate my cluttered mind. Lately, I’ve also relied on my fifteen-minute solution: I set a timer and concentrate for fifteen minutes on the task at hand. At the end of the time, I celebrate (usually just a mental high five) what I’ve accomplished. The task can be anything from my own writing project to a client’s manuscript to dusting my home or weeding the garden, and I get a lot accomplished in fifteen minutes. That sense of accomplishment helps fill the empty vessel within once again.

Should you create an author website? Yes.

I’ll keep this one short.

Recently, I stopped waffling about whether or not I should create a website and did it. Or, rather, I paid someone else to do it, because I’m from that in-between generation that didn’t grow up with computers but now we’re forced to use them for everything and to be honest, we’re still a little disoriented. (I had a word processor in high school that was, for then, top of the line.)

I dragged my feet about it because I thought, well, I don’t have a book. I’ll make one if I get my collection published. In the meantime, I racked up publications one by one, here and there, in smaller journals and online magazines, anthologies and even on podcasts (two of those forthcoming!). I realized I had plenty to put on a website, BUT, even if I didn’t, it still would have been worth making one. Create a website for the writing life you want, not for the writing life you have? Something like that?

If you create a website, you are basically making yourself “findable” via internet search. You are giving people a way to contact you. You are creating a professional presence, so that WHEN you get published (gotta believe, right?), you already have that piece in place. When you get stories or poems picked up by journals, small or large, you can actually fill in the “website” box on the bio form. And if you’re a blogger (whether it’s shouting into the void or talking to a few people or to many), it gives you a handy place to keep posts.

One of my favorite things about having a website, though, is a thing just for me. I love having one place where all of my publications and little accolades get to live. It’s like a digital creative resume. An online scrapbook. It’s nice to see all of my work together–like the last, oh, decade and a half of writing and revising and submitting has amounted to more than nothing.

If you don’t have money to spend on a website right now, create one for free on WordPress or a similar platform. You can upgrade it later and update it as you go.

(Also, it’s worth noting that there have been very few days with zero website visitors.)

If nothing else, I bet your mom/partner/best friend/dog/cat will think your website is cool.

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