

Discover more from Fiction for the Cosmically Disturbed
On Friday night, during a writing session with Shane McKenzie, I wrote the last sentence of Barn Door to Hell. I didn’t type “The End” because I wasn’t sure it was the end. Part of me didn’t want it to be. I told myself it needed an epilogue. I told myself I should reread the whole thing and make sure the story is actually finished. But I knew it was over. That didn’t stop me from trying to write an epilogue the next morning. With a sigh (and after several typed and deleted sentences), I realized there would be no epilogue. Thematically and in terms of momentum, there was simply nothing else to say. Transmission terminated.
My hope is that my reluctance to call it quits is testament to the story’s power.
While finishing up my book, Shane was typing up the first two thousand words of his newest novel. That’s right, gang. Shane McKenzie is hereby ending his Hollywood exile to make a triumphant return to horror literature, and I frankly can’t be more excited. And truthfully, I think he is every bit as hyped as I am.
He and I have been doing writing sessions together for several years now. During these jams, we’re usually at a kitchen or dining room table with our laptops open while our sons play together. I wrote much of Saint Sadist, the first fifty pages of Extinction Peak, and pieces of several other books and stories this way. While typing up the now-infamous threesome scene from Saint Sadist, I was sitting across from him in his house and cackling like a madman. I’m pleased to say that while he was writing the first chapter of his big comeback, he was projecting a similar energy, truly enjoying what he was doing. Yes, screenwriting has brought him much success, but prose is his true playground. If you’re reading this and haven’t checked out any of his stuff, I urge you to do so. You’ll be glad you did.
I’m a big advocate of finding another writer or two who can write with you. I’m not speaking of direct collaborations, but someone who can work on their own projects alongside you. If it’s the right person or people, you’ll feed off each other, hold each other accountable, and bounce ideas off each other. Writing is a solitary process, yes, but there are ways to make it less of a lonely one. Going to conventions and doing readings can help, but that doesn’t necessarily solve the isolation inherent in the actual writing. Having someone working on their own stories in the same room while you work on yours definitely helps.
I have two writers with whom I do this. Shane is one of them. He’s great because he and I can riff for hours, we take inspiration from similar places, and as fathers, we understand that sometimes breaks are necessary—it’s family first, remember.
My other writing partner is a different kind of writer than me. She writes literary crime fiction and does not have the pulp mindset that I do (in other words, she spends years on a project, whereas I tend to crank ‘em out). She also does not have children, and as she’s almost a decade younger, we take inspirations from different sources. All that said, there is value in these sessions as well. Mainly, when she and I hang out, we are mostly there to write. These sessions are especially helpful if I’ve had an otherwise unproductive week. They give me the chance to just put my head down and get words on the page. We do, of course, take breaks to commiserate about the process and the business. We also ask each other for advice when needed and share feedback from our different perspectives.
Having a friend or friends to work alongside you works for creative endeavors other than writing too. Jean paints by herself most of the time, but she also hosts paint parties with friends. They gather around a computer to watch a tutorial, drink prosecco, and paint the same picture. They also laugh a lot, which is important. I imagine this would work if they were painting different pictures as well.
If this week’s newsletter is saying anything, it’s this: finding a friend or two (or five) to work alongside you might help you get words on the page. Do I know the science behind this? Absolutely not. I do, however, know that it seems to work.
Reading: Morbid Curiosities: The Collection by Aron Beauregard. The stories in Morbid Curiosities are the closest thing to a modern, prose Tales from the Crypt we’re apt to get. This is my fourth or fifth book by Aron, and it might be my favorite, with how it imbues classical horror sensibilities with the author’s signature gore and grime.
Watching: Yellowjackets - Season 2. I’m glad we’re watching this show again. It’s a little more horror-y than Jean prefers, which is why we took such a long break after binge-watching the first season. For me, though, it’s the sort of thing specifically targeted toward people like me. There’s the horror element, sure, but it’s also chock-full of intrigue and well-cast, quirky characters. It isn’t afraid to get soapy either, which a Twin Peaks fan like me appreciates. Speaking of Lynch’s iconic show, that shot of Christina Ricci in front of red curtains during the opening credits of Yellowjackets gives me big-time Laura-Palmer-in-the-Black-Lodge vibes. A hint of what’s to come? One can only hope…
Listening to: Every talking head in the wrestling business continuing to weigh in on CM Punk’s departure from AEW. I won’t be taking sides in the matter because (imagine this) I wasn’t there; I will only say that it’s sad. The whole saga of his time in AEW has arguably been the most talked about thing in wrestling for a while, but due to a myriad of reasons, no one can capitalize on it.
As always, if you enjoy this newsletter, I encourage you to check out my podcast (a buck a month on Patreon gets you the episodes early and uncut) or my books.
Bring Your Friends
I totally agree that having a writing partner is beneficial. I've been writing with Chuck Buda here and there at the library. I tend to crank out twice as many words as I would in the same amount of time at home.
And Yellowjackets is amazing. Can't wait for season 3.