Friday the 13th: This is Normal
I’m not alone in this, right?
Frame This One: Rejection Letters
“Did you keep your very first rejection letter?”
That’s an awkward question. My answer usually begins with the caveat: “Okay, please keep in mind, I was only 13 at the time …”
(Spoiler alert: No, I didn’t.)
I vaguely recall wandering around the schoolyard at recess, feeling sorry for myself and lamenting the untimely demise of an otherwise promising writing career. (Ah, the self-centered melodrama of the adolescent mind.)
Fast-forward to 2020: A fresh rejection letter arrives, and really makes my day.
A statement like that deserves some explanation.
…New Year’s Hat-Tip: A Tribute to Influencers & Encouragers
The beginning of a new calendar year—let alone a new decade—is an excellent opportunity to stop and reflect.
It’s a chance to honor some of the significant people who have shaped us by their encouragement and belief in us.
As a young writer, I spent a great deal of time by myself, as most writers do. My high school provided exactly zero (0) classes in Creative Writing. If there were other aspiring writers in my vicinity, we shared a common anonymity.
…Write/Query/Pitch: Setting Goals for 2020
When it comes to writing, I’m not one for New Year’s Resolutions. Most resolutions in my world have more to do with becoming a better humanoid.
If—on the other hand—the topic is “setting writing goals for a new year,” count me in.
Creative writing goals range between a no-brainer (Write. Edit. Revise. Repeat.) and the steely-eyed demands of setting Measurable Productivity Goals.
My learning curve on queries and pitching “live” over the past couple of years has been informative. I’m still scratching the surface—probably more than I realize—but what I’ve learned will impact my goals for 2020. More on that later.
…Aspiring Writers: Learn to Love Editing
It was my privilege to spend just under three hours as a guest speaker in a local high school this week.
My task, according to the creative writing teacher, was simple: “Please help my students understand why editing is important.”
No problem—-all high school students love editing, right?*
*(tongue planted firmly in cheek)
…Fear the Harvest
Tracker Flash Fiction #3
Heavy rain slashed at Aubrey as she paused to take her bearings. She pulled the hood of her sodden jacket forward, shielding her face from the relentless downpour.
Of course — it’s raining. She smiled grimly, taking an odd solace in the bitter thought. Her shoulder still stung from the cuts she’d endured after squeezing through a barbed-wire fence.
A rainstorm is the perfect soundtrack to my Day From Hell.
There was no betraying sign of a Tracker, but that didn’t mean one of the soul-less killers wasn’t waiting just around the next corner. The City’s sprawling ruins offered a multitude of hiding places. Aubrey studied the broken-paned apartment across the street. She half-expected to spot the deadly glimmer of a Tracker’s scanning eye, staring hungrily down at her, but the windows were empty.
Like eye sockets in a skull. She grimaced, cursing her over-active imagination. Her hand moved to her abdomen, and she glanced down. Fear and loathing competed within her. I’ve got an Implant. The Hoarders …
It still seemed unreal. Why her? She caught herself and looked around in wide-eyed panic. Pay attention, Aubs! Don’t let your guard down!
She made a decision, stepping away from the crumbling tenement’s dubious shelter. Keep moving. She mentally repeated Sarah’s adamant advice. Don’t stand out from the crowd. Hidden in plain sight.
Water splashed over her feet as she crossed the desolate intersection, the traffic lights hanging dark and lifeless above her. She must find the other Runners — her life really did depend on it.
Keep moving. She sloshed through the ankle-deep puddles, ignoring her soggy footwear. Hidden in plain sight …
Available at:
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Diagnosis: Implant
Tracker Flash Fiction #2
Aubrey reels from the news. Her heart pounds and dizziness threatens to overwhelm her. This can’t be happening. Why me?
It’s easy to feel resentful.
She’s doing the best she can, carving out a life for herself after the Hoarders completed construction on their walled Enclave.
Two years after what should’ve been her high school graduation — an event she’d only heard stories of — she moved north to a small village in search of work.
She doesn’t mind her job at the ramshackle café. Her boss is gruff but fair, and Aubrey managed to rent a tiny, but affordable, house in town. And when Thomas and Sarah moved in next door, Aubrey knew they’d become good friends. Things were looking up.
Her sense of well-being is short-lived.
Tonight, Aubrey sits in Thomas and Sarah’s kitchen, listening with stunned horror as they explain what a Tracker is, what it’s capable of, and the sinister meaning of “Harvest.” Their description of the soul-less creature is daunting enough, but Aubrey can’t fathom why it should matter to her, living so far from the Enclave.
Until a somber-faced Thomas pulls out a scanner, and Sarah gently turns the conversation to Implants.
Available at:
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Tracker (Behind the Scenes): Death in the Alley
The “Death in the Alley” scene represents a turning point (neither the first nor the last) in the fast-paced story of Tracker.
The first meeting of the two main POV characters, Amos Morgan and Aubrey Carter, isn’t your typical “Good afternoon, charmed to make your acquaintance introduction.”
Amos arms himself with a combat hunting knife, wishing for something deadlier. Aubrey’s life flashes before her eyes, and she almost forgets to breathe.
Everyone’s nerves are on edge, to say the least. Amos and Aubrey’s companions—Don, Sheila, Stephen, and the acerbic Jane “Snake Lady” Avery—share the same jittery trepidation. Narrowly averting disaster, the new acquaintances dare to relax, breathing a collective sigh of relief.
Then a third POV character—a Tracker—shows up.
And the body count starts to rise.
Trackers may be considered “soul-less,” but they are grimly efficient in their obsession with the “Harvest.” That Runners must die in order for the Trackers to collect their Implants is of no concern.
Amos is right—a combat knife is a mediocre defense against the brutality of an enhanced killing machine. But it’s all he has . . .
the Runner
Tracker Flash Fiction #1
Amos was running long before he knew he was a Runner. The trauma from his twelfth year drove him, stalking his dreams, corroding his waking hours.
He did his best to control it, to put a clamp on the accusing inner voice, to block out the recurring nightmares.
Over time, he’d learned how to cope, to carve out a semblance of normalcy in the chaotic world they’d inherited after the Hoarders abandoned them.
Until the day it was confirmed by Doc Simon: the hated Hoarders had buried an Implant in his body — somewhere. And now he was fully a Runner, a human time bomb, and a threat to anyone close to him if his Implant activated.
And he was also a target for the subhuman Trackers. The blood-thirsty creatures would stop at nothing until they’d gutted him for the microtechnology hidden in his body.
So Amos did what any Runner would do.
He ran …
Available at:
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Why YOU Should Attend a Writing Conference
I’m a big fan—and shameless advocate for—writing conferences. It doesn’t matter where you’re at in your writing journey. It’s in your best interests to attend a writing conference as often as you can.
At the very least, you’ll find yourself surrounded by other people as book-nerdy as you. Creative souls who can encourage, challenge, sharpen and cheer you on.