Off Course

By Russel D McLean

Recently I came across a press who commission all of their novels only through degree programs. That is all of their commissions had to be from students from writing courses (MFA's etc etc). They would send the top manuscripts to book groups who would then rate each one and the response of the groups determined which books would be published.

In theory the reading group idea is somewhat sound. Reading groups are often indicative of heavy book buyers and if a book becomes a “reading group book” that can lead to heavy sales. But I have to question the wisdom of only taking work from writing students.

Most authors I admire do not have a “degree” in writing, or gained one only after publication as they sought to better understand the mechanics of their craft. Two clear exceptions are a) Our own Dave White and b) Scarlett Thomas*. Both of these are naturally talented writers, and I love their work. But most of the writers I love didn't go to college to learn writing. If they did go, they completed something only tangentially connected to the craft. Even studying English does not mean you are qualified to write, but more to understand what writers do.

Having read a number of writing students' works over the years through collections and occasional invites, I have come to the conclusion that studying the formal mechanics of writing too soon can occasionally stifle an original voice. While craft is important, it cannot come at the expense of the unique nature of an author's voice. Yes, it helps if you know how to craft and create a novel, but when that gets in the way of your intentions and holds back the very thing you are looking to show off to the world (your voice), something is wrong.

Now I'm not prescribing an end to writing courses or saying that they automatically neuter the unique voice. That would be an insane statement. They can hep some people, and they have helped some people. But I think that for some writers, it is better to go and experience the world without being a “writer”. I think that while an MFA or equivalent may help some, it may also hinder others.

The wonderful and terrible thing about being an author is that you do not need – and should not need – a degree to do what we do. Yes, you need to put the work in and learn, but often the best way to do that is as you're going** and not in a classroom.

Authors should not be mass produced. They cannot be. And while some may indeed benefit from learning in a classroom environment, to believe that only the best work can come from there is folly.

*I am not connected to internet as I write but I am fairly that as well as teaching a writing course she also holds a degree

**this tangentially links to my argument about why authors benefit from years of struggle and why instant gratification may in fact make for poorer writers.

Guest Post: Crime And Horror

By David Accampo

My new comic book series, Sparrow & Crowe, co-written with Jeremy Rogers and illustrated by Jared Souza, is a mash-up of crime and horror. And it's not unique in that category; the two get squished together quite often. 

But as I've lived with this book, which I've described as "Chinatown meets The Exorcist," I've put a lot of thought into the meaning of both the crime and the horror in the set-up.

I've asked myself, "Why do crime and horror fit together?"

I mean, on the surface, they shouldn't. Horror is primal. It works on a purely childlike level. As early as you felt pain, as early as you could imagine something in the dark sliver of your open closet door, horror has lurked in the recesses of your mind. 

But crime fiction. That, on its grimy surface, is the grown-ups' game. Because, as my friend Jay Stringer reminds me, crime fiction is social fiction. It's about the haves and the have-nots. And, most often, this a function of adulthood. It's a conflict that comes from living in the world for a time. When we're kids and we don't have something, we look to our parents. But once we're out of the house? We begin the slow, inexorable decline of morality where we must face the endlessly repeating question: "What are you willing to do to get what you want?"

So, they don't fit, right? Crime and horror? They seem on opposite ends of the spectrum. Too often I feel like the genre mix serves as little more than a costume change; supernatural elements spicing up an old crime tale like some kind of Goth wardrobe adjustment. 

Our story centers on a man named Doctor Xander Crowe. Once a popular psychologist and best-selling author, Crowe ran into a mind he couldn't dissect — a demonic intelligence living inside a little girl. Unable to cope with this new reality, Crowe failed. The girl died. And now, fallen from grace, Crowe scrapes together his living performing séances and minor exorcisms. Until he runs afoul of a Los Angeles mob boss who wants to hire him to exorcise the demon living inside his daughter.

All very noir, isn't it?

And we quickly learn that this entity inside the mob boss' daughter is one that's very familiar to Crowe — a fact that terrifies him. 

In the world we've created, the demons themselves aren't actually all that scary. As is often the case, it's what they represent. In the film The Exorcist, the horror doesn’t stem from the character of the demon(s) living inside young Regan. It's about the terror Regan's mother feels as she watches, powerless, as her daughter succumbs body and mind to an alien presence that seems to want to destroy the girl from the inside out.

The scary thing about demons, and why they endlessly fascinate me, has always been that they seem to operate outside of our understanding of human motivation. If you're writing to scare: mission accomplished. You need go no further. But if you flip the story of The Exorcist around, I've always wondered: why does the demon act as it does? What does it want? It wants something it doesn't have, whether that involves stealing a soul or wreaking havoc on the mortal plane for some nefarious purpose, there is a motivation to act. What happens when you write the demonic presence as a unique character with its own desires?

And now we're back to crime.

Fear and desire, then. That's where horror and crime come together. 

And it is at these crossroads that we find our Doctor Xander Crowe, terrified to fail again and lose another girl while desperately wanting to understand this thing because he is still, at heart, an analyst — he combats chaos with reason and knowledge. Fear and desire, two emotions wrestling between the gaping maw of Hell and the cold muzzle of Don Marino's gun pressed to the back of Crowe's neck. If we’ve done our job right, that's where the black heart of our series lies.

Sparrow & Crowe #1 is currently available for pre-order, and due to hit comic shops in July. We're an independent comic book published by Hermes Press, which means that we may not be in every comic shop. To ensure you receive a copy, visit our website, sparrowandcrowe.com, or make sure you tell your local comic book store to order you a copy in the May edition of the Diamond Previews catalog. Because we want this book to sell and we're terrified of failing. 

David Accampo is a writer, podcaster and award-winning filmmaker. He co-created the audio drama, Wormwood: A Serialized Mystery, which Rue Morgue called "a Blue Velvet-esque town with a Lovecraft bent.” His short fiction has been published in online publications, including GROK and Mullholland Books' Popcorn Fiction. His upcoming comic book mini-series, Sparrow & Crowe: The Demoniac of Los Angeles is on his mind a LOT, as you can probably tell.

Do Writers' Conventions Still Matter?

By Steve Weddle

A couple of years ago I went to a conference. I wrote about it here. Great fun.

But pricey.

Of course there was the $43 to get the urine out of Dave White's pants (totally my fault, but still).

And the hotel room that was around $200 a night. It's one of those where they tell you it's $120 conference rate or whatever but then there's tax and a separate room tax and then a separate room-with-a-door tax. I mean, it was Philly, so it wasn't like DC with its extra $87 for-the-hell-of-it tax, but it wasn't cheap.

And the conference registration fee, which was worth every penny.

I mean, you start adding up NoirCon and Bouchercon and Left Coast Crime and Murder in Muskego and one in Canada and one in Florida and Malice Domestic. You could go broke.

So maybe you have to choose. Or maybe you go to all of them and use your $150,000 advance to pay for hotels and bacontinis. I dunno.

I guess what I'm wondering is what many folks have asked me via email and in person.

Are you going? Why? Why not?

I guess it's become popular these past few years to say that people won't attend conferences because they can meet in the Gopher Chat Rooms and on MySpace, or whatever the kids are into now. You can twitter away all day chatting with people. You don't have to wait in line at a signing table to meet authors. You can shoot them a message online. Email them. MyFace chat. You can connect for free, without having to battle the "Bring Out Your Dead" piles of flesh at the Atlanta airport or $12 hotel bar bourbon.

Then you've got the folks who say that nothing beats hanging out in person and getting to know people.

But, as a man with fiscal responsibilities, I have to look at the ROI of something like a convention or conference.

I wouldn't give back my trip to NoirCon. Met some nice people there, as well as a couple of complete assholes.

So my thinking is that conventions and conferences are most certainly worth the time and the money -- if you choose what works best for you. For example, I doubt there's much overlap between NoirCon and Malice Domestic.

What do you get out of conferences that you don't get out of chatting online and emailing and MyFacing?

Do you have a favorite conference? One you'll never again attend? One you'll never miss? One you wish existed?

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Speaking of authors I'll probably never meet -- Frank Wheeler, Jr has a new book out. Right now. Like now, folks. It's called THE WOWZER.

In the Arkansas Ozarks, old-timers spin tales of the Wowzer, a giant panther-like creature that decapitates those who wander too far into the woods. County sheriff’s deputy Jerry was raised on Wowzer stories, but they aren’t enough to stop him from carrying out his own business in the remote hills. Jerry’s more than a sheriff’s deputy; he moonlights as muscle for local drug traffickers, who sometimes need people to get hurt—or get dead. 


Fortunately, Jerry’s pretty good at his job. And since Tom Haskell runs the sheriff’s office and the drug-protection racket, Jerry doesn’t see much of a moral dilemma. That is, until he starts thinking about getting out of the trade, and then things get complicated fast. For starters, Jerry’s girl Maggie flees the state after learning about a disturbing diagnosis tucked inside Jerry’s psych report. 


And now Sheriff Haskell is dragging his feet paying Jerry his cut of the drug money. Is Haskell just reluctant to lose his top muscle? Or is he plotting to take out the man who knows his dirtiest secrets? Fans of hardboiled, “country noir” fiction will love gnashing on Frank Wheeler’s violent and darkly comic debut, sneaking a glimpse into the mind of a killer whose inner monster is about to be unleashed. 

Because I love you all, I will send to one of our commenting people an electronic version of this book. So, to the comments, folks.