Posts Tagged ‘Coffin Hop’
Another Halloween Over.
Sadly, another Halloween has come and gone. 364 more days until we can do this again. I must say that I am completely impressed with the ideas you all came up with for what may be haunting my house. Very creative indeed! Ghost cats, clowns, dolls and so many other creepies. It was truly difficult to choose a winner this year. I wish I could send the prize to all of you, but I can’t. That said, I have picked the winner. Of all the comments, the one that stuck with me most, caused me to open a window and do a little google-fu. was Nikki’s. I had never heard of a Domovoi before and it really intrigued me. Congratulations Nikki! You won! I will get your box o’ goodies to you ASAP. And to the rest of you… Thank you so much for participating and making the Hop a blast for me yet again. Until next year… Pleasant Dreams!
And the Winner Is…
And so it ends. Another October gone, the streets quiet once again, the children all scrubbed and glowing from exhaustion and sugar-rush. Across the country, teachers sigh in frustration as students gaze into nothing, their little minds and bodies wore out from the previous night’s adventures and imagining that magic time when the school bell will ring and free them to go home to a candy bag bursting at the seams. And once again, my favorite holiday is fading…
BUT! There is still a little Halloween magic left! I get to give one lucky a soul a box of goodies. Less than a dozen of you entered my contest, which should’ve made it easy, but BOY it sure wasn’t. Who knew you were all such talented bastards?! I am amazed at the level of skill in most of the jack-o-lanterns sent to me. It wasn’t an easy decision at all, the originality and thought that went into each and every one was stunning. You are all rock stars as far as I’m concerned. Of course, there can only be one winner. In the end, I had to go by technical difficulty and even then it was hard.
AND THE WINNER IS…
Brandi Slater of Michigan, for her two jack-o-lanterns pictured below. Though I loved them all, these two really stood out to me, particularly the wolf. The skill it took to carve that moon in the background is amazing. Brandi will receive the prize pack including signed copies of a few of my works, some cool Jack Skellington swag and of course, a signed copy of COFFIN HOP: DEATH BY DRVE-IN from which the proceeds go to supporting children’s literacy at: Litworld http://www.litworld.org/. The rest of you can still pick up a copy here: http://goo.gl/1FyjiU and do your part to help create a world where all children know the joy of reading. Congrats Brandi and a huge THANK YOU to everyone else who competed. You are all amazing!~C.W.
Do You Carve?
Hello Boils and Ghouls! Can you believe it’s already been a year since the last Coffin Hop? Time sure flies when you’re a demon, bent on destroying the world… Erm, I mean, Having fun! This year I’ve decided to keep things short and sweet as I’m sure you have plenty of other sites to hop to. My contest will be pretty easy as well, at least for those who truly celebrate Halloween, the way our ancient alien ancestors intended. And this year, the Hop is all about YOU!
So, do you carve? Are you a painter? Do you do both? How early do you buy your pumpkin? Do you keep it until it rots, or throw it out November 1st? What’s the most important trait for a good pumpkin? These are the things I want to know about you. The information I carve, I mean CRAVE!
At my house, it varies from year to year. Last Halloween we carved, the year before we did both. But this year it was all about the paint. We’d spotted some brilliant white pumpkins at a local farm and fleet store around the end of September and just knew they were for us. Of course, as mild as the weather had been, we also knew there was no way those pumpkins would survive until All Hallow’s Eve. So we waited, we bided our time, our grubby little paws rubbing together in anticipation. And guess what? You’re right, they were all gone by the time we returned. And so we set off to the seventh level of HELL (yeah, Walmart) in search of the next best thing, orange pumpkins and white spray paint. Now my family is pretty diverse. We each have our own criteria for what makes the perfect pumpkin. I am all about the symmetry. My oldest daughter believes it is the roundest pumpkin that makes the grade, and for my son, the smoothest. My middle daughter swears it’s all about SIZE! She always picks the biggest of the bunch, regardless of whether it’s a lopsided, warty monstrosity. Lou doesn’t give a shit what pumpkin he gets, as long as he doesn’t have to come with.
I’ve included photos of this year’s pumpkins. I think they turned out pretty well. They should appease the spirits and keep the demonic forces from entering our home to raise all manners of havoc such as fire, pestilence, and that annoying toe seam on your sock that won’t lay flat.
This brings me to the important part, THE CONTEST! It’s simple really. All you have to do is send me a photo of your pumpkin. Paint it, carve it, throw it in the road. It doesn’t have to be this year’s jack-o-lantern. It could be a favorite from years gone by, but be original, be creative. Feel free to include some details about what makes a perfect pumpkin in your eyes. There are only a few minor rules you must adhere to:
*Do not cheat. Only dickfaces cheat! Don’t insult my intelligence by sending me a google image. I know a professional photo from a snapshot.
*Send the photo to C.W.LaSart@hotmail.com NO LATER than Midnight Central Time on October 31st.
*Please include your full name, email address and mailing address in the body of the email. The photo can be an attachment.
*MOST IMPORTANTLY! DO NOT, under any circumstances, include naked pictures of yourself. Seriously. I am getting so sick of all the junk in my inbox! What is it about my writing that makes you sickos think I want to see your tidbits? No really, just don’t.
And that’s it. After I have collected all the photos, I will present them to an impartial Jury made up of myself, two preteen girls, one flirty 8 year old boy, and a bulldog. We will pick our favorite and post it here on November 1st! The winner will receive all the wonderful goodies pictured below, as well as a signed copy of the Coffin Hop Charity Anthology, Death By Drive-In! So what are you waiting for? Get carving and HAPPY HALLOWEEN!~C.W.
Abbigail the Bulldog for Display Purposes Only *NOT INCLUDED!
Prize Includes: One signed copy of Ad Nauseam: 13 Tales of Extreme Horror, One signed copy of Bad Dreams New Screams (A limited edition Cemetery Dance Chapbook, only 500 in existence), One signed copy of Coffin Hop:Death By Drive-In (A Charity anthology by the Coffin Hoppers that supports literacy with all proceeds going to Litworld http://www.litworld.org/), One Jack Skellington Notepad, One Jack Skellington Hardbound Calendar/Planner, and a snazzy pair of Jack Skellington socks! Those who don’t win can still pick up the Charity Anthology here: http://goo.gl/1FyjiU Coming soon in E-Format!
Get Back To The Hop Here: http://coffinhop.com/
And The Winner Is…
Halloween has come and gone again. 364 more days until we get to do it again. It’s a bittersweet thing for me, I’m sad to see it go, but it means I get to announce the winner of my Coffin Hop drawing! Before I do though, I want to send out a heartfelt thanks to all of you who stopped by. You are the reason we do this hop and you are all rockstars in my book! Okay, without further adieu… The winner of the 2012 Coffin Hop Prize pack is… Robin Rodwell! Congratulations Robin and I hope to see the rest of you next year!~C.W. LaSart
It’s Coffin Hop Time Again! Who Wants Some Free Shit?
Those of you who are familiar with my blog are used to my snarky and hopefully amusing posts, but I think I will take a break from that for this most hallowed of holidays. No worries, there’s sure to be plenty of sarcasm in the future, but how about we make this easy today. Let’s just give some free shit away, shall we? I thought you might like that. All I ask you to do is sign up for the blog and leave a comment below telling me you did it. Yep, that’s it. For those who are already following the blog, just leave a comment stating as such. When the week is over and the ghastly ghouls are walking the streets in search of candy, I will chose one lucky winner out of a hat (high tech as always) to receive my lovely Coffin Hop Grand Prize including: A signed copy of my premiere collection Ad Nauseam, a signed copy of a limited edition chapbook (ONLY 500 IN EXISTENCE) published by none other than Cemetery Dance, one copy of the Exclusive Coffin Hop Teaser for next year’s much anticipated Death By Drive-In anthology in the e-format of your choice, one sweetly spooky Halloween sock monkey, a collection of classic horror movies, and many more spectacular goodies! For the rest of you who don’t win, as There Can Only Be One, here’s a special treat, something I very rarely do… A free short story. I’m adamantly against posting free stories on blogs but what can I say, I guess I just got caught up in the spirit of my favorite holiday! So without further adieu, here for your reading entertainment, I give you RETIRED GODS. I hope you enjoy it. And don’t forget to subscribe to my blog and comment for a chance to win all the goodies. HAPPY HALLOWEEN MY FRIENDS.
RETIRED GODS
The old gods were bored. They gathered in the soft sunlight that filtered through the frosted glass windows of the common room in Windy Brooks Rest Home, as they did every day. Some played cards and some watched television, while others stared off into space, lost in their own minds with little hope of return. Like any group of seniors, they spoke of the old days, reminisced about a time when the world was much younger and simpler. This was where they chose to pass the time while they waited. Endless days of waiting; for lunch, then dinner, to watch their shows, to take their meds. Mostly, they waited to die.
Zeus sat at a square table in the corner, his gnarled fingers laboring as he slowly shuffled a deck of cards. Palsy was starting to get the better of him, but as long as he could manage, there would be a game. Hera sat to his left, still beautiful to him after all these years. She smiled and nodded, occasionally reaching out to pat his hand when he spoke, showing her affection. He paid her demeanor little heed, aware that she nodded not out of agreement with anything he said, but because of dementia. Hera was forever trapped in a time before mighty Olympus had fallen, destruction brought about by the Heaven that was a promise made by the Nazarene. Sometimes Zeus envied his wife.
Poseidon sat directly to Zeus’ right, a chair pulled away from the table to accommodate his wheelchair. He sat slumped and mostly lifeless, except for his eyes. Though he had ceased speaking months before, Poseidon still watched the game, his faded blue eyes tracking their hands as the hours passed. Zeus finished his painful shuffle and laid the deck carefully on the table.
“Cut the cards, Hades.”
Hades sat directly across from Zeus, his gaze never leaving the arthritic hands as they worked the cards. He still doesn’t trust me. Zeus was amused. After all these years, he still expects me to cheat him. Hades cut the cards and the game began.
Young nurses in bright scrubs adorned with cartoon characters drifted in and out of the room, silently performing their tasks with bland expressions. Windy Brooks was not a rest home strictly for the gods, and they paid no more attention to the conversations of this particular group than any other. The young have a way of tuning out the old, dismissing all their conversation as ramblings of senility. Still, they were cared for competently.
Hades stopped arranging his hand and cocked his head to the side, his bulbous nose turned up to sniff the air.
“Do you smell that?”
“I believe Poseidon has shit himself again.” Zeus replied dryly.
“Not that.” Hades waved a hand dismissively. “The other smell. How can you not smell it? It’s death! I smell death! The old man in Room 207 has died.”
Zeus shrugged.
“What a bastard he was during his life. He was a thief and a cheat. How I long to collect that soul and drag it across the River Styx to serve me in the underworld!” Hades eyes were bright with wistful excitement. Deaths around the rest home were frequent, sometimes several a week, and they never failed to send Hades into a fit of longing. The knowledge that he no longer ruled the Underworld was painful.
With a triumphant cry, Aphrodite rushed the table, flinging her gown wide and gyrating like an ancient showgirl. Only Hermes took notice, reaching a gnarled hand over to squeeze her pendulous breast, earning a rebuke from Zeus.
“Hermes! Leave your sister alone. Incest has been out of fashion for centuries now.” Chided, but not ashamed, Hermes slunk off to the couch where he pouted in front of the television set. Aphrodite continued to bounce and flop her deflated boobs at the card players for a moment, and then she ran off, cackling like the toothless hag that she was. An orderly disappeared down the hall in pursuit, his gentle voice fading as he coaxed her into abandoning her naked revelry.
Zeus sighed and returned his attention to his cards. Sometimes he wondered if he and Hades were the only ones with any of their faculties. He laid a card and waited for his brother to counter. The daylight was fading and soon it would be dinnertime. He hoped they would have Salisbury steak and mashed potatoes tonight. It was his favorite.
Dionysus raised his frail voice in argument with one of the staff. She was trying to walk away, but he gripped her elbow. This altercation was another daily occurrence, one of the ways they passed the time at Windy Brooks. Dionysus wanted a bottle of wine. Dionysus always wanted wine.
“Just get me my wine!” He insisted, his face flushed with anger.
The nurse shook her head and pried at his fingers. “The doctors’ orders state that you may have one glass of wine every evening, and not until after dinner.”
“Don’t you know who I am?” The old man whined, clearly near tears.
“Of course I know who you are, Mr. Jones.” She turned on her heal and swiftly left the common room. This same scene took place every night. You could almost set your watch by it. Giving up on his wine, Dionysus turned his attention toward Zeus for yet another predictable conversation.
“Hey, Zeus!”
“Yes, Dionysus.” Zeus replied calmly.
“Why don’t we go find the Old Norse Gods? Or the Egyptians? That Ra was one powerful guy. Maybe if we all banded together, we could pool what’s left of our powers…” he trailed off as Zeus shook his head sadly.
“They’re gone, Dion. All gone.” Zeus reigned in his frustration with sheer will and not a small amount of pity. “I have told you many times. They are all dead now. There is no help for us anymore.”
Dionysus looked deflated for a moment, then his face brightened and he held up one crooked finger triumphantly, his mouth opened to speak.
“No Dion,” Zeus cut him off, “The Hindu Gods won’t help us. They are still very powerful, but we have tried contacting them. They don’t wish to trifle with relics such as us. I suppose that they too will weaken as time goes by and they become forgotten. It’s the way of the world, my son.”
Zeus patted Dionysus on the back, but he just stared out the window, his lined face stricken with misery. This also happened every evening.
The glorious days of Olympus were long gone, but the gods hadn’t gone quietly into submission. They had been vain and powerful at first, enjoying centuries of play on Earth and in the Heavens, watching and meddling in the existence of mortals at will, often ruining lives for little more than sport. So feared were they that their powers fed on the emotions of their subjects, both adoration and terror, growing stronger every time a mortal turned his gaze to Olympus in prayer. It was a good time for the old gods, and they had foolishly believed it would be such until the end of time. Many wars were fought to preserve their territory and way of life, battles often sparked by jealousy and vanity. In the end, they were defeated by something that had never occurred to them. Love.
A Jewish man from Nazareth quietly walked the lands, encouraging all the people of the Earth, both before and after his death, to abandon their old gods and embrace his own. His message was powerful. He promised love and redemption, something that people desperately wanted after dealing for so long with the fickle gods of old. Their subjects responded, pulled by the power of a compassionate God, never petty or spiteful like the ones they worshipped. No matter how hard Zeus and the others tried, however much they spread punishments to the mortals under their rule, the people slowly slipped away from them.
Other gods met their destruction by Muhammad’s message, and some were simply pushed aside in favor of science. Men would continue to kill in the name of a God, but not their names. Not anymore. They became stories, myths, and their strength slowly dwindled over the centuries, rendering them little more than mortals. With their powers went immortality and they eventually aged, becoming the shells of gods that now sat in the common room of the home, playing cards and losing their minds. The only magic they had left came from scores of middle school students who studied them briefly in class and for a moment found them cool. This was no life for a former deity.
“Zeus?” Hades soft voice intruded on his reverie, bringing him back to the present. He found his mind wandering more often lately and it scared him more than he cared to admit. Zeus could handle the infirmities of the flesh that plagued him daily, but was terrified of losing his mind. Whatever else awaited him, he wanted to meet it with his wit and intelligence intact. “ZEUS!”
Hades pointed to the right where Poseidon slumped, his head back and eyes unblinking, jaw slack. He had quit breathing again and the rest of the gods formed a semicircle of concern around their fallen comrade. All eyes fell to Zeus, pleading silently for him to fix the situation. He closed his own eyes for a moment and dug deep in his being, harnessing whatever pool of strength and power he still possessed, before he laid his hand gently on Poseidon’s unmoving chest. With a grunt of exertion, Zeus felt the hairs on his arm crackle as a subdued bolt of blue lightning passed through his hand and into the heart below it. Poseidon’s body bucked lightly and everyone gasped, watching in wide-eyed anticipation of whether or not it would work this time.
After several agonizing seconds, during which Zeus was sure he had failed to revive his brother, Poseidon drew a harsh breath and coughed, his eyes bleary and unfocused. As the fit passed, he looked around at the concerned faces that hovered around him. With a scowl, his eyes darted to Zeus, and to everyone’s amusement, his shaky hand raised and shot Zeus the world’s most pathetic bird. Zeus smiled and shuffled the cards, happy Poseidon had come back from the brink, but not certain that he would have it in him next time.
The mood in the room inevitably turned from amused to somber, as the gods considered the enormity of what would have happened if Zeus had failed. Soon the questions began.
“What’s going to happen to us?”
“Where will we go when we die?”
“What do we do?”
Questions barraged Zeus from every side. Only silently nodding Hera and the mute Poseidon refused to join in the verbal assault. They had relied on Zeus for the entirety of their long existence and still looked to him for answers to questions that both confused and terrified them. Answers he did not have. Frustrated by his impotence in the matter, Zeus threw up his hands, scattering cards about the table. His thunderous scowl, a part of his former glory, caused them all to cringe away, fearful of the mighty lightning bolt he no longer possessed. “I DON’T KNOW!”
Zeus’s shout earned him a reproachful look from a passing nurse, as he painfully gathered his deck of cards together. The other gods huddled in the corner, causing Zeus to regret his outburst. He didn’t mean to scare them, but DAMNIT! He didn’t know everything. His days of omnipotence were long gone, and he knew no better than the rest of them what fate awaited the gods on the other side of death. How could any man know such a thing? All men went to their deaths, unknowing and alone. It was the fear of all the elderly, so close to their time but unsure of the outcome. Zeus was no longer a god, just an old man, fearfully waiting for his end.
Zeus laid the deck in the middle of the table. They had time for just one more game before dinner. “Cut the cards, Hades.”
Hades cut the cards and the game began.
Now Back to the Hop With You!!! http://coffinhop.wordpress.com/
And if you’re really enjoying the Hop and want to help support the 2013 release of Death By Drive-In, featuring 22 of our very own Coffin Hoppers, visit http://www.cafepress.com/coffinhop for some cool swag with all proceeds going directly to the release of that charity anthology!
*COFFIN HOP* H-Aye-Double Ell-Oh-Double You-Double Eee-En! *COFFIN HOP*
Danse Macabre Click Here for accompanying music!
In the interest of fairly using the images below and not being sued for all the money I don’t have, clicking each costume will take you directly to the site where you can buy it! See, it’s actually free advertising 🙂
WELCOME Boils and Ghouls! We are so pleased you could join us for the Coffin Hop. Over the next week, many talented professionals from the horror world will be doing what they can to terrify, amuse or entice you-all the while, offering contests and giveaways to make your Halloween special. I will be giving away a fun package consisting of an Ad Nauseam coffee mug, a signed copy of Dark Moon Presents Zombies! and other tokens of Halloween delight. Keep reading to find out how to enter!
*WARNING This post is not meant for sexy goth girls, strippers or hookers! You dress this way everyday*
Those familiar with this blog, know that this is the time when I start talking about what scares me or just plain pisses me off.
I wouldn’t want to disappoint my friends, so today I’m going to chat with you about something that really chaps my ass about Halloween these days. This has always been my most sacred of all holidays, the most highly anticipated night of the year since I was a wee child. Candy and costumes, wandering around after dark on a school night with friends, dressing up as whatever monster or spook you could talk your mother into doing the makeup for. What’s not to love about Halloween? School parties where my own Mom would dress as the Bride of Frankenstein and hand out treats and cups of witch’s brew, complete with a cauldron boiling smoke from a chunk of dry ice. Even as a teen, when I was much too cool to go Trick-Or-Treating, I still enjoyed dressing up as a zombie and scaring the kids who knocked at my door. Never once have I bitched upon seeing the decorations show up in the stores, the way we do when we see Christmas lights in November. No “Are you kidding me? ALREADY?” I love Halloween. I really do.
I spent the usual amount of time on last year’s costume. A good deal of makeup, custom fangs and colored contacts though less blood than I would’ve liked, but hey, I work in a restaurant. The whole ensemble came across as a sort of New Orleans Voodoo Vampire Queen. It wasn’t as complex as the Zombie Prom Queen from the year before, but I was proud of it. Lou donned his coveralls (he even rolled on the garage floor for authenticity) and his deluxe Michael Myers mask and met me after my shift so we could go out to the bars for a few drinks and to take in all the other costumes. My delight turned sour the second we stepped foot in the first bar. Good God! I had to look twice to make sure I hadn’t wandered into the local strip club! Never in my life had I seen so many half naked women when there was frost on the ground! It was like Spring Break gone horribly wrong (more than usual even!). I quickly ran through every Halloween song I could remember, witches, ghosts, ghouls, vampires, but not a single one mentioned sluts! It is the season for horrors, not whores!
Before you all start thinking I’m hating on the hot chicks, I’m not. First of all, the majority of the naughty nurses, sexy cops and faux french maids that are running around, DO NOT look anything like these models. Oh no, there is no shortage of stuffed bras and cellulite riddled thighs on display. And once again, I am not hating on women who aren’t perfect. Hell, I’m not perfect. And now you will say I am trying to hate on women’s sexuality. Once again, no. I can get my freak on with the best of them! Just ask Captain Louie about his Saucey Wench, or better yet, don’t! It’s none of your damned business anyways 🙂
I have no problem with women who have a healthy love of their bodies, celebrating their own sexiness, but why do they all 
think that Halloween is an excuse to dress like harlots? Even women who aren’t normally inclined to dress in such a manner, often come wandering in the door in little more than their underwear. I guess I’m a bit of a snob. I don’t see the problem with dressing sexy on Halloween, so long as your costume is at least scary. I have seen my share of erotic vampires and witches. I’m okay with those. I saw a gal dressed as a zombie once with the most impressive rotting bossom. Nothing wrong with that. Halloween can be sexy, heck yeah it can! But there are limits ladies. It’s not an excuse to wear your lingerie and nothing else. And the occasional playboy bunny or cheerleader is alright (actually, cheerleaders can be downright terrifying) but things are getting a bit overdone. Last year I visited 8 bars. EIGHT! And you know what? I was the only vampire. I counted one witch, NO damned zombies and not a single Jason Vorhees. What is this world coming to? The most irritating part was the fact that almost none of the men wore costumes at all! Why should they? They were just there for the parade of flesh, hoping to pick up an inebriated nurse or intoxicated cheerleader on their way out the door.
This is more than a rant. I have a practical purpose to my bitching. You could even call this a Public Service Announcement! There are some inherent dangers that come with this alarming trend. Forget for a moment that it’s October and you run the risk of freezing off your, um, goods. But as you stumble towards the dancefloor with your randy partner too close behind, you are wearing a skirt so short that should you misstep in those stripper heels and stumble for even a second, he is certain to be ALL up in your business, ensuring that the only Halloween costume you will be purchasing next year will be size 0-3 months! And the most important thing? Anyone who knows anything about horror, knows that the first one to get killed when the slasher comes calling, is the gal in the slutty costume! When it comes down to Run Bitch, Run! you can’t, having traded in your more sensible shoes for 6 inch porn star stillettos and a skirt so short that if you bend over, you will show off your who-who. So one way or another, you’re screwed!
There are 364 other days of the year to dress like a slut. Well okay, 362 because no one does that shit on Christmas or Thanksgiving…then again, there’s Easter too. Okay so there’s LOTS of other occasions to dress as scantily as possible, most of them during the summer, but New Years Eve is always a cold weather option! If you want to make Halloween sexy, try a little witch dress or vamp gown. Leave the French Maid and the Naughty Nurse in the bedroom. Keep it scary, will ya? And be safe. If not, we will miss you when the killer mounts your head on a pike. Well, not so much us ladies, but I’m sure the guys will.
Now that you’ve read the blog, here’s where you sign up for the contest! All I ask of each of you is that you subscribe to my blog (not just the comments) and leave a comment below to let me know you did. That’s it and your name goes in the hat! Should you want a better chance at winning you can do as follows for extra entries into the pot: Follow me on Facebook, Follow me on Twitter, Tweet a link to this blog (include my name @CWLaSart) or share one of my facebook posts! Don’t forget to include the extras you did in your comment! Thanks for stopping by and you can resume the Coffin Hop by clicking the picture to the left! Remember, the more sites you visit, the more FREE SHIT you could win! Stay scared my friends.~C.W. LaSart
Ad Nauseam Update
Hello my friends. I hope this Monday has found you all happy and healthy. Here we are a mere 3 weeks away from All Hallow’s Eve and only 2 weeks from the beginning of the Coffin Hop. What an exciting month October is! My daughters are still deciding what to be for Halloween, but my son has already appropriated my green, brain-shaped jello mold to serve as his exposed brain for what will no doubt be a kick-ass zombie costume! That’s my boy! 😉 I’m sure those girls will do me proud as well. I myself am leaning towards a delightful Little Red Riding Hood…..from hell! No worries, I will post pictures on my Halloween Day blog post.
I know that many of you have been with me since the beginning of Ad Nauseam, following along as I accepted the project and wrote about my journey. I really appreciate every one of you and all of your support. I also know that some of you are eager for the release of Ad Nauseam, something I had promised would take place this Fall. Well, I didn’t exactly lie to you. We HAD planned for the release next month and the work was done. We could’ve brought it out on time, but after much discussion between myself and Stan Swanson from Dark Moon Books, we have decided to delay the release until early January of 2012. I’m sorry to disappoint my friends that have been so eager to read this collection, but let me assure you that there are very valid reasons for this decision and I am 100% behind it. It’s only a few more months, and it gives us some advantages that make it worth the wait.
For those of you who just can’t wait, I encourage you to pick up a copy Dark Moon Presents Zombies! which includes my only zombie story (some would disagree and call Jack and Jill a zombie story but I maintain that it IS NOT!) All The Rage. Over the next 2 months, Dark Moon Presents Ghosts! and Dark Moon Presents Vampires! will also be released and include stories I’ve written as well, including 3rd place winner Mommy.
Here’s a sneak peek at a few of the stories that will be included in Ad Nauseam:
Sister Alice’s Suitor A lonely woman learns the hard way that if God doesn’t answer your prayers, the devil may be all too willing to help you out.
Simple Pleasures Yardwork takes on a chilling and seductive twist for a simple bachelor who wakes one morning to discover strange holes in his backyard.
Micah’s Muse What if your muse really was a twisted bitch. And what if she moved into your house?
The Hand That Feeds There are some crimes that other prisoners find unnacceptable, and even the insane sometimes believe the punishment should fit the crime.
Look for these stories and more in Ad Nauseam:13 Tales of Extreme Horror available online where books are sold in January of 2012!
Forced Writing and Why I Don’t NaNo
It’s that beautiful time of year again, my favorite of all seasons. Fall. Autumn. The Season of harvests and Halloween. Changing leaves and first frosts. Jack-O-Lanterns and pumpkin pies coming up soon. Who doesn’t love Autumn?! Of course, there are other things that happen at this time of year, strange, even sinister writing rituals, unknown to those outside the bubble of writing groups and author chat rooms. To some it is a rite of passage, to others it’s a much anticipated thirty days to do little else other than write and hobknob with other writerly types. That’s write, er…um RIGHT I’m talking about NaNoWriMo! National Novel Writing Month for you civilians 😉 It actually takes place in November, but since it’s only the 3rd of October and I’ve already been asked no less than 3 times by other writers if I’m ready for it, I thought I’d discuss it today.
I learned about NaNoWriMo some two years ago from a friend. The concept confused the hell out of me at first, and I would be lying if I said I truly understand it today. Before I get rolling here though, I want to stress that this is not me bashing those who choose to participate in NaNoWriMo. Far from it. You go NaNo your little hearts out and more power to you. To each his or her own. This post is my explanation of why I DON’T NaNo, and it’s nothing personal.
Okay, for those non-writerly types reading this, I shall try to explain the unusual ritual that is NaNoWriMo. There is a website complete with chat boards and friends (so I’ve been told) and everyone signs up. The clock starts ticking on November 1st, and they have exactly 30 days to write 50,000 words of a novel. I guess the purpose of the exercise is to get people off, er…on their asses and writing. It’s a support group and incentive to flex the creative muscles. I can understand all of that. Sometimes people just need an excuse to be creative and who couldn’t use a support group? But that’s where my understanding of the process ends. Abruptly.
The only thing you have to do to win NaNoWriMo, is accomplish 50,000 words in the 30 days. I have been told by more than one person that they don’t even have to make sense. No one checks up on you. You could write FART 50,000 times. OOOOOKAY….so what do you win? Well, nothing. You win the ability to truthfully say that you wrote 50K words in one month. Unless of course, you cheated and wrote FART 50,000 times. Then you are just lying. I believe there is a certificate you can print off as well. Call me a greedy, but I only like to enter contests that will pay me if I win, either with cold, hard moola, or with publication.
Like I said, I get that some people need the extra push. I am absolutely on board with those who are looking to network with other writers and offer encouragement to one another. What I don’t get is the forced writing mentality behind a project such as this. I hear it all the time. If you want to be a success, you have to treat writing like any other job! Well, yes and NO. Of course you have to be dedicated and allow the necessary time required to do your writing, but it’s a creative endeavor. You can’t force creativity. It doesn’t work that way. When I write despite the fact that I’m just not feeling creative, I churn out a big pile of shit. It shows. A reader can smell forced from a mile away. Well, at least an editor can.
I’m not saying that you shouldn’t place emphasis on your writing every day, but if you aren’t feeling the work in progress, spend some time on other aspects of the business. Blog, advertise, social network-there’s a whole lot more to writing these days than just penning a novel and sitting back to watch it sell.
I don’t NaNo. I have enough deadlines and stress hanging over my head without adding yet another project that grants me nothing more than bragging rights. You like to NaNo? Have at it. Enjoy. I myself will be spending my November in other ways. Preparing for the launch of Ad Nauseam this January and all the work that entails….now that’s scary.
Who Wants To Coffin Hop With Me?!!!
Hello friends! Here in the Midwest, we are enjoying some unseasonably warm and sunny weather, just before that fickle Mother Nature decides to bury us up to our asses in snow for the next 6 months. It’s okay though, we’ll take it! I have one week and one day in as a non-smoker and I’m feeling alright about it. 🙂 What that means is: I don’t feel like killing anyone yet today. Of course, there’s still a whole lot of today left!
Those of you who follow me on Twitter and/or Facebook have probably already seen that I have been advertising a Coffin Hop for Halloween this year. I thought I might take a moment to explain this to you and how it would benefit all of us. For all my horror writing friends, this is an opportunity to climb aboard a blog hop with some very talented writers and drive each other’s web traffic up! I mean seriously, think about it. I have a following. You have a following. All the other authors have a following. Now is the time to mingle and share. Writing doesn’t have to be competitive-we are each other’s best allies. People who like to read, tend to read A LOT! There’s room for all of us. We already have around 30 signed on for the Coffin Hop, which means 30 faithful groups of followers that you can expose to your own blog or website! Seems like a winning situation to me. So if you’re interested, why not check out http://www.coffinhop.blogspot.com/, and sign up. It’s super easy and you will never meet a nicer group of writers! After you sign up, shoot me a message and I’ll give you the address to the private facebook group where we discuss things. Faithful fans, Coffin Hops, Private Groups-how Rockstar can you get!!!!
As for those of you who are readers, well you’re the ones that really stand a chance to benefit. Not only will you be getting to know some other great horror writers whom you might enjoy reading, all participants will be running contests at their blogs and giving away FREE STUFF! That’s right! Free, horror, halloweenish, uber-cool, freakishly fun stuff! Each contest will be different, but most will only require that you comment on their blog or follow them on facebook! Now that’s a pretty reasonable request for the chance at some cool swag! I plan to give away a signed magazine, a coffee mug with the cover of Ad Nauseam on it, and other Halloween doo-dads that are yet to be determined. It will be great fun, and all you have to do is check back the Monday before Halloween and spend the next week reading some blogs.
So that’s the low-down on the Coffin Hop-I really hope you will all join us for a great time! Any questions can be left in the comment section below, or sent directly to me at C.W.LaSart@hotmail.com. I’m off to enjoy this little bit of sunshine before it’s gone-have a wonderful week my friends!
