It was a dark and gloomy night. 7:30 p.m. State Street looked like if it was part of an old and haunted ghost town, with the exception of a homeless man taking a nap on a public bench, a young adolescent coming out of the bookstore with a copy of Kafka’s The Trial, and a woman standing alone on the corner of State and Canon Perdido.

Her name was Paola. She had on a short, red dress, and long blond hair. Her lips and shoes matching the dress, her hair complementing her Caucasian skin tone. No, she wasn’t a prostitute. She was waiting for Paul, her boyfriend.

She looked at the logo behind her, while gently hiding some of her hair behind her ear. “Borders, Book Store,” she said out loud, confidently knowing that the napping homeless was not close enough to listen to her soliloquy, and the teenager was halfway on the other side of the street. She then looked at the main entrance and was happy to see that they were going out of business soon. “Hopefully they open up a clothing store,” she said, cheerfully.

But of course, she wasn’t there because it was fun to look at signs. She’d been waiting for Paul a lot longer than what she anticipated. “Fifteen minutes is a long time,” she said, as a reddish blush of anger appeared on her cheeks.

She hated to be there. It was so frustrating. But it wasn’t just the ‘waiting’ part that irritated her. No, it was more than that. In fact, she was a little bit possessive and couldn’t help but think that Paul was fucking another woman in his office; added to that the fact that she didn’t know where his office was.

Paul never told her.

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A Prolific Attitude

Go to Amazon and see the 18 books I have there. I’ve been writing poems and short fiction since I was 12 (getting close to 33 now). I started writing seriously in 2009, have completed two novels, a novella and fifteen short stories, all of them with various word count. I still rhyme, just for the hell of it, and currently got my dream job: I am an editor at a local newspaper. How cool is that?

The question I heard a lot is, “how you do it?”

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Don’t Say The ‘H’ Word

I review and self-publish horror, and I’m thinking about directing a workshop for aspiring horror writers in the near future. Furthermore, I like to read the Horror Writers Association Blog to make sure I don’t miss out on what’s new and hot in the horror community. I’ve developed this weird fascination with the dark side ever since I was a kid, but I still find people who ask the question, “So, what kind of horror you like?”

I always thought I knew the answer to that question.

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My Favorite Transgressive Fiction Books

Recently I posted a blog explaining what Transgressive Fiction was. By doing so, my mind started to go back in time and think about the books I’ve read, the ones that sparked my interest in this genre. For a while, I’ve had my transgressive story idea, something real but at the same time lunatic, raw and a tad adventurous. Nevertheless, my penchant for writing horror kept me away from it. But it was there. It never left. It was like an itch you have because you haven’t taken a proper shower in over a week. Gross.  I’m glad it never went away, though. Now you can find the novel, the first of a series, on good ol’ Amazon. Before you do that, however, why don’t you take a look at these books I’ve read in the past, the ones that started up that itch in me?

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The Transgressive Life

The look on the faces of people when I tell them I’m writing a Transgressive Fiction series is priceless. There was even an asshole that said, “What? You’re writing a transvestite series?”

I said, “Fuck you!” and then gently explained what I meant.

In a way, I expected him to be ignorant. I’m 33 and still don’t know shite about many things. Who am I to judge?

This literary movement, albeit simple, it’s difficult to explain. It’s about anorexic models who think they’re fat. It’s about rich assholes who party too hard. It’s about junkies who think they own the fucking world. It’s about poor miscreants who dare to dream too much. It’s about sex. Rough sex.

And often, it is also about death.

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Ramblings Of A Crazy Mind

I did it. It’s been awhile. As I work the night shift at my job (yes, I actually have a job) I am finally able to publish Ramblings Of A Crazy Mind. The ironic part is that I wrote in three days because I was getting writer’s block on another story I was writing. You could say I wrote this story out of anger and frustration. But it worked. Or so my friends who edited it told me. I don’t want to give you a synopsis here because I’d rather let you read it and tell me what you think.

But there is something else.

If you have Kindle Unlimited, you can actually skip the price tag and read the story for free.

But if you don’t, you can just send me an email and say, “Hey, I want to read Rumblings Of A Crazy Mind.”

If you do that, I can send you a link so you can read it for free.


Only favor I’d ask you is to write a review once you’re done. I’d really appreciate that.

All right, Gotta go now. I just realize I haven’t mopped the floors.

Keep in touch.

Reading List For 2018

With so much calamity going on in the world, it is refreshing to be a horror fan. We always look for ways to find the disastrous, the destructive and the deadly in every interaction we have. Does that make us bad people? Not really. Sometimes recognizing the bad helps us rejoice in the good. For now, let’s talk about something bad, shall we? Last year, I was pleased to read a number of great horror writers and, after reading On Writing by Stephen King, I also decided to take advantage of the reading list he recommends. Outside of that list, though, and inspired by my constant search for something creepy to read, I stumbled upon some upcoming titles that I will dive in 2018.

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How To Scare The Reader

The Free Dictionary dot com defines ‘fear’ as a very unpleasant or disturbing feeling. Although philosophers and Vulcans insist that fear is irrational, they can’t help to feel it as well. As an evolutionary survival tactic, fear is tattooed in our genes and, as far as you know, mankind hasn’t come up with a laser strong enough to extinguish it. Fear is akin to an addiction. You know it’s bad for you, but you keep coming back for more. Over and over again.

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H.P. Lovecraft’s Five Tips for Writing Weird Fiction

Though the term “weird fiction” came into being in the 19th century—originally used by Irish gothic writer Sheridan Le Fanu—it was picked up by H.P. Lovecraft in the 20th century as a way, primarily, of describing his own work. Lovecraft produced copious amounts of the stuff, as you can see from our post highlighting online collections of nearly his entire corpus. He also wrote in depth about writing itself. He did so in generally prescriptive ways, as in his 1920 essay “Literary Composition,” and in ways specific to his chosen mode—as in the 1927 “Supernatural Horror in Literature,” in which he defined weird fiction very differently than Le Fanu or modern authors like China Miéville. For Lovecraft,

The true weird tale has something more than secret murder, bloody bones, or a sheeted form clanking chains according to rule. A certain atmosphere of breathless and unexplainable dread of outer, unknown forces must be present; and there must be a hint, expressed with a seriousness and portentousness becoming its subject, of that most terrible conception of the human brain–a malign and particular suspension or defeat of those fixed laws of Nature which are our only safeguard against the assaults of chaos and the daemons of unplumbed space.

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