Book Done; Character Driven Fiction Meets Plot...
Current mood: busy
Category: Writing and Poetry

 ..:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

I finished another horror novel today. Well, as finished as it will get for now. Ya know, where the latest draft is done and one says, "Okay, that's ENOUGH…it all makes sense to me…now, let's see if it makes sense to the pre-readers."

For this one I resurrected a character I hadn't spent any time with in years. Mark Justice asked me the other day if most of my fiction was character driven VS plot driven. While I comprehended what he said, that formula never occurred to me, ala I never thought of my stuff as either or…but for this novel, I had a great plot and needed a central character in the madness. At the same time, a pal (Mark Hickerson) suggested I revive an old character of mine he really liked. Sure enough, like an old friend, the cold, multi-layered, dark humored killer stepped out and got a makeover. Did I mate up a great plot for a novel with an explosive, different kind of character? Well, I did. In time, we will see if the results lie within the work, WITHIN.

Now, I really need a cigar and some beer. However, I must get the youngest on the bus, go do wash, get a haircut, pick up the other son, shuck the corn, and make dinner…before I can do any of that.    

7:16 AM - 7 Comments - 10 Kudos - Add Comment

HAWG in hand
Current mood: accomplished
Category: Writing and Poetry

I'm not holding a copy of my new novel HAWG in my hands, as I'm typing (har har) but since I got the copies last night, I had one delivered to the plant.

It is a surreal thing to see something you labored on so, worked to get right IN your hands, in print, breathing before you...all with a kick ass FC by Bob Freeman..which everyone LOVES BTW Bob...I heard "kick ass cover!" alot last night.

The product is great. Graveside Tales did a bang up job getting it made. As a printer geek, I'd see a flaw. It looks great.

And words are inside. Some are sad, some are disgusting, some are really funny...some will make one cry...and some will make you look behind you in the dark. But they are mine. No one wrote it for me. Good or ill, I told the story I wanted to tell. One can buy it. It is on print.

Dreams are strange things. As a kid, I dreamed of seeing my name on books. Yesterday, I was moved by the experience.

I'm going ot take this big assed box of books to HYPERICON and sell 'em all. If I do, I have to give a dramatic recital of a Neil Young song. It'll be worth it.  

I'd list thanks yous, but that'd take too long.

I'm holding HAWG.

Now, will you?

GRAVESIDE TALES webstore: http://www.gravesidetales.com/store

12:17 PM - 18 Comments - 20 Kudos - Add Comment

Father’s Day:12 Years Gone
Current mood: nostalgic
Category: Life

Father's day weekend is coming up. I think about my dad a lot, not just on the day someone designated for the paternal side of the gene pool.

..:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /> 

My dad died twelve years ago. I was born late in his life, but, though he died when I was 28, I'm luckier than most. Several guys & gals I speak to had rotten fathers or ones they never knew or spent time with. My dad was not a saint. But, he was a good guy. Quieter than me, bigger than me, a BEARS fan to the end…

My dad was a giant of a man. After working all day and half the evening, he'd pretend to race me in the yard and pick me up. I was his pumpkin. Yeah, for any of ya who know me, that one is hard to believe. I was the youngest, the one who he spent a great deal of time with after he retired…the one he told tales of fighting the Japanese to and bare knuckle battles on the deck of the ship. He never told them at length or bragged. They tumbled out at weird times.  

Of my buddies growing up, I had the only dad in WW2. Right and wrong never was a blurry thing. Life was simple, not complex. Dad was a plain man, a funny guy full of sayings I cannot repeat here. A tough guy for sure (rumor was he kicked the cherries off the top of a cop car in ..:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" />Streator, IL before the war after a bar fight), and a hard working man on the railroad and factories. Dad taught me a lot, though he seldom told me to do anything specific. Dad was like that.

When dad lay in the Veterans hospital, dying of heart disease, I lamented the fact that due to my eyes, I was never allowed to join the service.

"Steven," he said to me, "You take care of your Mom and Stacey, right? Ya work in that shithole factory all the time, right?"

"Yeah."

He concluded, "Ain't that war enough for one man?"

"I suppose."

"Now, quit writin' that sci fi crap and right me a western before I die. Or that there Bible story ya always talk about."

Well, that was dad.

I will never forget the last time I saw him, how he hardly recognized any of us but DID know me, said my name. I left the Danville, VA hospital knowing I'd never return there. The man who carried me as a boy, whom I oft had to carry to his bed in the later years, would never call me Steven again. No one calls me that. Well, a few do, but never grasped the seriousness of it.

So, my sons and I put flowers on his grave on Memorial day. My ten year old, named for my dad, was quiet, but the 3 year old, the roughneck, traced the veterans stone with his finger and said, "I remember grampa since before I was born."

He oft tells tales like that, like back when all the continents were still formed…he is kind of creepy.

Aaron went on to say, "Yeah, I was waiting with all the rest to get borned."

"Yeah?"

"And grampa made sure I got out first." Aaron looked up at me and said, "Grampa has magic marker alllll over his arms."

He never saw my dad. He has never seen pictures of my dad with his arms, covered in tats from WW2.

Okay, he's three, and tells tales, well, like me…but sometimes, he makes me wonder.

And dad, thanks for being there. In life, in death, and beyond.

Good to know ya still have a sense of humor.

I'm writing that Bible fantasy book now, as ruthless as I promised.

The western?

Well…soon.

2:01 PM - 8 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment

HAWG novel up for pre order at HORROR MALL
Current mood: blessed
Category: Writing and Poetry

My new horror novel HAWG is up for pre-order at THE HORROR MALL.

 ..:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

https://www.horror-mall.com/HAWG-by-Steven-Shrewsbury-p-18049.html

Blue collar tough Andrew White knows that in the rural community of Miller's Fork bad things are best left in the dark. He soon learns that monsters wear many shapes.

In a populace rife with of vice and deception, something has broken loose…something hidden and feral. Set free from a neighbor's barn, a force rampages through the locality. Hungry and insatiable, the berserk wrath unleashed from Mr. Solow's shed is holds a darker secret than anyone could imagine. 

Only a factory worker, a twisted biker, an unsure sheriff, and a wounded addict stand in the way of the beast. Can they put aside their differences and defeat what lurks inside them in time to defend what they love? 

Come, peer inside the souls of Miller's Fork and see if they possess the courage to stop the primal fury that is…Hawg.

8:34 AM - 8 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment

HAWG: Meat of the story
Current mood: loved
Category: Writing and Poetry

 ..:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

I'd written a few horror novels, but hadn't sold any when I started HAWG. Various friends and industry folks suggested I write a more linear, mainstream horror novel, something simple, easy to understand. While not accustomed to writing with a condom over my head, I thought I'd try. So, the HAWG monster book came to my mind. 

How did it turn out? The audience will be the final judge. However, the story formulated very fast and told itself. Did I jump the shark or go extreme anyways? Well…

Nate Southard saw me writing the outline in the car on the way home from Toronto, WHC 07. This was circa April 1 (ironic aye?) and by May 2^nd I had the first draft done, 50000 words (the final ended up near 80k). When attacking a first draft, I cut through the BS and write. I don't worry about mistakes or making it perfect. This isn't going to be high art, after all, it's a horror novel about a pig-man with steel tusks. The plot developed fast and real life breathed into the work. 

While getting ideas for HAWG together before the week of WHC, I sat at dinner after church and told my mother (near to 80 years old) I would write a piggish horror novel set in a rural spot. I would write what I knew about life, thus, no real research would be required. Suddenly, she told a tale about her father in the 30s castrating piglets with a straight razor. This scene opens the novel. Angie Hawkes said, "It made me squirm and I'm not packing!"  Like the scene later in the novel where the calf is delivered using a rope and the rolling door of the shed, it's real life stuff from the farm.

The some characters in Miller's Fork are archetypes of people I know, worked with, or heard about in odd cases. Small town life can be happy and placid, but the underbelly of country living can be grim. Others who read it early said I tempered the violence well with dark humor and real life horrors.

But bloody scenes, monsters and messed up folks don't make for a good book. There had to be a solid story, people to sympathize with, and a flawed hero. The struggle of family and blood kin in a world where the modern is encroaching on a rural community is a start. Honesty, morals and varied attitudes paint the folk of Miller's Fork, and the lead character, Andrew White, who is far from a hero…but has to react to save the ones he loves.

But where did the meat come from? Robert E. Howard screamed it at me. Ok? Ya'all want a more detailed answer? The tale just fell out. The story of angst, loss, fear for one's family, and a survival instinct all appeared as if dictated. The scenes of destruction, the creature wrestling bikers, trying to get at the kids in the mine, and the graveyard show down…came on fast and were scribbled on schedule pages at work.

No drugs, no idea store, nothing more than a light going off in my head and the story falling out like daggers on the keys. I did talk to several folks about minor details, a few bikers I know, a few farmers, etc.

Now, the process started.

Then, I had to control myself.

NEXT—HAWG: CURING THE HAM (me)

7:57 AM - 4 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

HAWG: Creation of a Monster
Current mood: animated
Category: Writing and Poetry

 ..:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

My horror novel HAWG will be out late in June.

Folks often ask a writer, "How did ya come up with that idea?"

The creation of the novel itself will be in a different blog, but how the monster himself formulated, well…

A few years back, I was talking in email to Kent Gowran & Mike Oliveri. Kent and I got kicking around story & book ideas. Kent said he always wanted to write something about a half human, half pig creature called HAWG…it'd have steel tusks and be a fun romp.

Time passed and the idea stuck with me. I formed a plot & plan, and asked Kent if I could write it. He said sure. He loves the results by the way.

Now, a seven foot freakish pig-man with steel tusks may sound like of screwy or at the worst, schockly. I imagined Kane from WWE wrestling mated with the Motorhead logo.

Where do really scary monsters come from? They aren't just mindless creatures or unstoppable serial killers. HAWG came about as a desire to write a mainstream horror novel, and to keep it simple. HAWG got his legs when I placed him in the rural community of Miller's Fork. This locale allowed me to use all sorts of rural knowledge and situations that are more surreal and different than some would guess.  The pig castration scene with the straight razor is sort of chilling…and authentic.

A creature of instinct, I crafted something violent, darkly funny, and hopefully entertaining.

But where did that come from?

Where all scary things do: The inside.

We are products of our lives, culture, friends, environments, and yes…molded by the choices we make. Those varied characters in Miller's Fork that Hawg encounters show what monsters really are…and the worse ones aren't seven feet tall with steel tusks. Callous drug dealing bikers, tramps with no morals, white-collar elites that are strangers to the truth, drunks, sluts, liars and whatnot…they are a fun backdrop around the beast.

But then there are those in the book who try. The good guys, who are not so good, really, but by the virtue of their raising, try to do right. Many fail. Many fall.

So, creating the creature Hawg was simple when I slapped him against a canvas of the real world. In fact, one may find oneself rotting for the beast. But mostly, I hope that folks pull for the flawed creatures of Miller's Fork…the ones on two legs that struggle each day to find the light.

Next, we will talk about creating the novel itself in HAWG: MEAT OF THE STORY.

HAWG by Steven L. Shrewsbury, Coming from GRAVESIDE TALES late June.   

8:05 AM - 12 Comments - 12 Kudos - Add Comment

Preparing For War
Current mood: adventurous
Category: Writing and Poetry

Preparing For War

..:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /> 

Next month I shall start work on an epic fantasy novel I've always wanted to write. Oh, other projects beckon, but this is something I want to write. I believe there is a real difference in one's storytelling ability and drive when it is a work screaming to get out. I spent the last month doing the second draft of a horror novel that is whipping me to death, and popping out the first draft of a bizarre book that may possibly never see the light of day. Suffice it to say, I'm ready to write what I want…not what I think I can sell or what folks may want to read.

How does one prep for writing a new book? Research, outlines, plots etc…of course, those are the foot soldiers, but what does one feed that army? The army marches on its stomach, I hear…

Lots of Red Bull, black coffee and Vicoden? I've heard of that recipe, but not in this case.

Like a carbo load, I'm reading stuff, not the historical material needed (done that) but favorite books and tales I adore. BLOODSTONE by Wagner, RED NAILS by Howard, MOTHER NIGHT by Vonnegut and THE MAMMOTH BOOK OF UNSOLVED MYSTERIES.

Also, I'm not writing for a few days. Like a verbal douche, getting my mind right, I'm gonna clear it all out. I'm sure I will do the first draft in a month. I always do. Results vary. Last Feb. I did 60k first draft and the book was good. The 50k I just wrote may be a buttload of suck. My heart wasn't in it. My heart was elsewhere.

Now, re=dedicated, relieved and retar---ok that was not nice, but, I'm ready for war.

But, with ya'all, your mileage may vary…

Wish me luck. This ain't gonna be pretty.

3:43 PM - 15 Comments - 16 Kudos - Add Comment

Early Mother’s Day thoughts
Current mood: melancholy
Category: Life

 ..:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

My mother is still alive.

She has beaten breast cancer, and for the time being, chemotherapy, which I think is worse than the surgery, but I digress.

Mom is close to 80 and was always a real fighter. A stern farm girl, she ran a tough ship and had to raise a slew of big boys. She is still a fighter, though weaker.

This weekend she will be here for another hallmark holiday or whatever it is.

My mom is a teacher….though she never went to college. She was born at home, not in a hospital.

She has taught me many things. She taught me how to live. Would that I listened to her in every way, as she is always right, in the end.

Mom also taught me how to die. She fully expected to perish in this last fight, and faced it with more guts and dignity than I ever could. I had to be strong for her, to reach down for her, as the world crumbled around me, and hold her up. Several suffered around me that needed me. For that, I am truly sorry.

But, as she said the other day, life carries on.

It must. I must. Until the end.  

10:52 PM - 12 Comments - 22 Kudos - Add Comment

TORMENTOR announcement
Current mood: mischievous

I just received word that Lachesis Publishing has accepted my horror novel TORMENTOR. This is really great news and I’m stoked about the project. The book will be released early in 2009.

 ..:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

Louise Bohmer has been a treasure to work with…Dittos to Jodi Lee and most of all, Tracy Jones, who edited the work. 

After being struck by a car bomb in Iraq, Marine reservist John Kern starts to hallucinate spirits, forgotten gods, and the man he beat to death back when he boxed professionally. While he recovers in Germany, Kern gets caught up in a cult of ghouls trying to resurrect a medieval Prussian torturer. Though still seeing visions of the nether-world, Kern attempts to make sense of those around him: A fawning nurse, a drunken fellow soldier, a concerned priest, a transsexual alchemist and the necrophiliac leader of the cult.

Will Battlin’ John Kern be strong enough to face what steps out of Hell itself?

A story of horror, twisted lives, sacrifice, and heroism, TORMENTOR reaches deep into the soul and forces one to face their fears and overcome them.

1:03 PM - 5 Comments - 10 Kudos - Add Comment

HAWG novel accepted

I can now make it official that Graveside Tales will publish my horror novel HAWG this summer. This hardcore tale may bow at HFW in August, but we’ll see. Not a tale for the squeamish, I want to thank Dale Murphy and those at GST for taking a flyer on this one.

 ..:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

Blue collar tough Andrew White knows that in the rural community of Miller’s Fork bad things are best left in the dark. He soon learns that monsters wear many shapes.

In a populace rife with of vice and deception, something has broken loose…something hidden and feral. Set free from a neighbor’s barn, a force rampages through the locality. Hungry and insatiable, the berserk wrath unleashed from Mr. Solow’s shed is holds a darker secret than anyone could imagine. 

Only a factory worker, a twisted biker, an unsure sheriff, and a wounded addict stand in the way of the beast. Can they put aside their differences and defeat what lurks inside them in time to defend what they love? 

Come, peer inside the souls of Miller’s Fork and see if they possess the courage to stop the primal fury that is…Hawg.

10:03 PM - 7 Comments - 14 Kudos - Add Comment