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Showing 3555 Columns
Showing 3555 Columns
February 7th, 2020
You poor soul, if you are reading this you are either a writer or romantically involved with a writer. My condolences. Writers are the worst: self-centered, egotistical, insecure, and they write articles on LitReactor self-projecting all their bullshit. But the worst thing about writers is trying to figure out what to get those jerks for Valentine’s Day. Seriously, writers just read and write books and complain on the internet. Besides suffering and rejection, what do writers even enjoy?
Read Column →February 5th, 2020
Dreams, “You’ll never guess who I ran into at the store,” and how much you love your wife: These are the current champions in the Boring Stories Olympics. I’m happy for you. I’m happy you dreamt that you finally hooked up with Samantha Fox. I’m just tickled that your kindergarten teacher recognized you at the store. I’m delighted that you and your wife are doing so well. But none of those are interesting stories.
Read Column →February 4th, 2020
Forget Women in Horror Month. Women don’t want a month. They want a whole year. Hell, they’re taking over the rest of 2020 and probably all the years after that too. I see a few of you nudging each other in the sides with your elbows. I see those smirks and that skepticism. Long has it been believed that the genre of horror is a man's world. Books written by men and read by men. To the untrained eye, it certainly appears that way.
Read Column →February 3rd, 2020
"Snakes. Why'd it have to be snakes?" —Indiana Jones, Raiders Of The Lost Ark
Read Column →January 31st, 2020
Header images via Thibault Trillet and Harrison Haines The writing convention. That weekend gathering where writers emerge from their offices, bedrooms, pillow forts, and crypts and spend several hundred dollars to socialize with other writers and try to improve their writing skills.
Read Column →January 30th, 2020
Original image via Akshar Dave I don’t know when this myth started, but it seems to be most prevalent amongst those in their late teens and early twenties. The myth of the lone genius writer, undiscovered, but pure and finding their voice in solitude. Blah-blah-bullshit. Myths are fun to make up in fiction, but this particular gem does much more harm than good.
Read Column →January 28th, 2020
Ah, Pride and Prejudice. A classic tale of rivals-to-lovers, it’s a hilarious romp through Regency England which includes everything from a matchmaking mother to a runaway teenage bride to a vengeful suitor. It’s funny in a laugh-out-loud kind of way, incisive in a way that is common to Jane Austen, filled with social commentary that must have struck just as true in 1813 as it does 207 years later, in 2020.
Read Column →January 27th, 2020
I think good writers create amazing books, but great writers create entire universes. In horror we like to call that the _______ mythos. Sure, H.P. Lovecraft is the classic example, but a few contemporary masters like Paul Tremblay, Brian Keene, and Laid Barron also have their own mythos. When it comes to crime fiction, one of the first names that pops into my head when having this conversation is Don Winslow.
Read Column →January 27th, 2020
I’m sure there are exceptions to the rule, but in my experience, and from what I’ve observed, writers and authors have a hard time promoting their work. It can be stressful enough just to tell people you’re a writer (endless questions and perplexed comments ranging from ‘I should write a book, how hard can it be?’ to ‘Can you introduce me to Stephen King?'), and then when you have a book come out? And you, *gulp* have to sell it? Not only talk about it, but actually convince people to buy your book? Yeah, it can be intimidating. And frustrating.
Read Column →January 24th, 2020
I'm sure you already read all the hot takes on American Dirt, the newest novel by Jeanine Cummins. You know what happened. You know she did some research and then told a torture story with problematic characters. You know her publisher, Flatiron Books, had center pieces with barbed wire at a book event. I won't talk about that anymore. What I'm going to talk about is this: American Dirt is just the latest suppurating sore; the result of a disease that runs deep in publishing. Let me break it down for you.
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