Crossroads refers, literally and poetically, to the place where at least two roads (paths, destinies, or decisions) meet. For over 15 years, all of my blogs have been on writing, the craft, publishing, and the writing business. I’ve also posted a lot on basically how to handle this thing called LIFE when one is called to talk to their imaginary friends for a living.

I’ve never posted any of my fiction as a blog post. But, in the spirit (no pun intended) of Halloween and to celebrate my book release—TOMORROW—we, too, shall pause at a spot where more than one path converges.

Instead of Kristen Lamb the teacher, today, is Kristen Lamb the storyteller.

And I promise to stop referring to myself in the third person…for now.

This is the opening section of the story that kicks off a horror/noir anthology I’ve created with the wonderful and talented Troy Lambert. The similar last names are merely happy coincidence, as well as our similar writing styles.

Before anyone freaks out over the idea of “horror,” our anthology–What the Hell Did I Just Read? Volume One—is written in the tradition of Alfred Hitchcock, Black Mirror, and The Twilight Zone, not slasher horror.

No chainsaws…so far.

Thank you for taking a moment to read MY fiction for a change, though I always enjoy reading works from YOU guys (finishing edits actually).

The ebook is only $4 so help a fellow writer out. Even if you don’t like scary stuff, feel free to buy for the weirdo(s) in your life who does.

Without further ado….

Crossroads

The boy was the product of a traveling bible salesman who’d fallen in love with a prostitute. Story was his mama’d run away from New Orleans still covered in bruises from her last beating, a beating so bad she’d swallowed two previously loosened molars.

Hitchhiked as close as she could get to Houma before the pig farmer who’d offered her a ride panicked when she’d started talkin’ to people that wadn’t there.

Didn’t wanna get mixed up in whatever trouble the crazy woman was in, injured or not. Forced her out onto the weed-choked shoulder of a country highway before speeding off, her cheap high heels forgotten in the floorboard of his truck.

That particular July day was hotter than any she could recall. The road shimmered with heat that reflected down from a cataract white bowl of sky. Heat piled on heat piled on more heat.

She didn’t dare walk in the tree line for fear of missing her chance to hitch another ride.

Plenty of cars passed, but no one stopped.

So, she’d walked. Walked until she’d heard voices again, only those voices was different from the ones she normally heard. Nice voices. Sweet and kind. Voices she thought was angels calling specifically for her.

Who’s that young girl dressed in red?

She stopped short and gaped down at her threadbare party dress that reeked of old cigarettes and sadness. Absently, she fingered one of the few glorious glass beads that still clung to the ragged bodice. The baubles snatched up sunbeams then shattered them into crimson sparks. Her dress had once been so beautiful. So had she.

Must be the children that Moses led.

More singing. She shook her head hard, but the voices remained. Either she’d gone fully crazy or was dyin’. Perhaps both, only now she didn’t care.

Wade in the water. God’s gonna trouble the water.

The music intensified, a riot of notes lifting over the treetops like birds taking flight. The song drew her into the cool shadows, into the piney woods which she figured was a better place to die anyway.

Better to die on a soft bed of pine needles than on the gravel shoulder of a highway to nowhere. She walked as far as her legs would carry her; walked until she collapsed in the doorway of a roadside tent meeting.

She went looking for Jesus and instead found a husband, the handsome salesman who rushed her to the closest hospital.

***

Annalise Curbow was her name. Curbow, originally Corbeau, was derived from the Old French word corb, which meant crow. The boy always found it interesting that a group of crows was called a “murder.” 

They were also known for mating for life, but his mama hadn’t been that kind of bird and migrated far from their home near Shreveport two years after he was born. Left him in a Piggly Wiggly. Told the clerk she’d forgotten her purse in the car, asked if the clerk could hold him, then never returned. Left the boy, the old Pontiac and a hastily scribbled note with only two words.

“Forget me.”

This, however, was one thing the boy’s father could not do. His father insisted it had been the voices that had done it. The bad ones had returned and she drew her demons away, keeping the boy safe. She hadn’t left them, she’d saved them.

And for a long time, the boy believed him.

This was all the boy knew of his mama, other than his daddy would never give up trying to find her, propelled by a vision he’d received after a fast so long it nearly took his old man’s life before it gave him a word.

Forty days with only water. Madness. Yet there, at the edge of death, on the shoulder of the glory road, God gave him his answer. His beloved Annalise, wife and mother, would not be found in the world of men, only in the wilderness.

And they’d been wandering there ever since.

His daddy was good at hearing when he was called and following without question. He’d once been a top bible scholar, expert in the Old Testament and ancient languages, a distinguished man who’d walked away from a stack of teaching offers. He’d been called to minister to addicts and ex-cons, then to sell bibles, then to marry a hooker, and finally called to the wilderness to find her.

Leave it all behind in search of a promise. No longer a salesman, he became part father, part missionary, and part something dangerous.

His daddy had taught him how to read using an ancient King James Bible–one with all eighty books–in a one-room trailer on the edge of a swamp. They lived a few miles from a collection of buildings too small to be properly called a town, but still they’d named it anyway. The town was populated with a strange mix of those folks searching and those folks praying never to be found.

They’d fit right in.

He’d never gone to a regular school. By the time the boy was ten, he could read and write Latin, Greek, and Hebrew. No matter how much the boy protested, his old man insisted one could only properly grasp God’s word by going back to the original texts to the original languages used by the authors.

It wasn’t all bad. His daddy also taught him more practical languages. Taught him French and Creole, since they often left the trailer and the not-quite-a-town and drifted off the map completely to dangerous places only good for hiding. Places with their own culture, residents unable to understand English, and probably unaware it was the unofficial national language of the country they lived in. Most of the time, they spoke in the dirty bayou patois like those around them.

The boy and his father would haul dry goods, sweets, and textiles out to isolated pockets of filthy people in homes accessible only by boat. They’d be half-devoured by insects by the time they tied up to docks banked by cypress and guarded by gators. Homes on stilts rose like specters out of the swamps, wood buckled with moisture, the air saturated with briny sulfurous rot that clung to their clothes and invaded their pores.

They’d dine on whatever unlucky critter made it into the pot—possum, nutria, snapping turtle, alligator gar, snake, or all the above. Supper likely consisted of  some crawling creeping thing forbidden in Leviticus.

Not quite locusts and wild honey, but close enough. Had the boy known any other life he might’ve preferred to starve, but he hadn’t. He’d scarf down whatever meager meal was offered then go outside to play with children who toted shotguns and wore machetes slung across their backs.

His daddy might have formally been an expert in The Old Testament, but the old man read Revelations so much the sturdy linen pages were clean worn through in spots. His daddy was certain End Times were coming and soon.

Had seen plenty of signs when helping with missions in the big cities, witnessed first-hand humanity’s spiral into the darkest sorts of depravity. Dealt with more than a few dealers, pimps, and conmen. Though his father preferred peace, he was not entirely opposed to violence and had the scars to prove it.

He wanted the boy to be prepared for whatever came, because he knew something was coming. Insisted the boy know how to survive because civilization balanced on a matchstick. The boy eventually dismissed most of what his old man said, thought them the rambling thoughts of a brain par-broiled in the bayou heat.

Alas, when the boy turned twelve everything changed.

***

It happened shortly after his daddy dunked him in the shallows of Caddo Lake. Baptism. He’d broken the dirty water’s surface feeling much the same, save for being covered in mud and insect bites. There was no lighting of a white-winged dove, no sudden parting of the clouds, no grand transformation.

But after that, his daddy looked at him differently, began taking him even deeper into the darkness than he believed possible. Told him it was time to let go of childish things.

When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.

His daddy finally was willing to take him beyond the boundaries set by innocence, places where spirits held more sway than Jesus. Dark disregarded realms of superstition and ghosts.

At first, the boy silently mocked these people with homes covered in bones and chalked symbols. He had no idea why his daddy would plunge this far into a place even God seemed to have forgotten. Began to wonder if God existed even though his old man heard God, talked to Him all the time, and saw Him everywhere.

But the boy did not.

All he saw was another day roasting in his boots and getting eaten alive by mosquitos big as birds. Another day in search of a sign that had not come in the twelve years since the promise was made to his father, and he was angry. They’d obeyed God and gone into the wilderness to find his mama.

Instead, they found…her.

TO FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENS (at least as of tomorrow, October 24th)….

Grab a copy, HERE!

According to a study I just made up, “science” demonstrates people who buy and read Kristen’s books are 100% more good-looking and unusually witty and charming.

“Normal Posts” RESUME WEDNESDAY!

Thank you for indulging me, and I hope, if y’all ARE standing at the crossroads of whether or not you need another book? Yes…yes you doooooo.

Feel free to leave a comment if you like the story (so far). If you don’t like it? Don’t you need to organize something?

Anyway…

With NaNoWriMo looming in the near future, we’ll probably be talking tactics on how to prepare to actually write 50K in a month. For the record, when you write for a living, every month is NaNoWriMo, so it’s awesome practice.

I LOVE COMMENTS!

To prove it and show my love, for the month of OCTOBER, everyone who leaves a comment, I will put your name in a hat.

I actually have landed agents for people who’ve won this contest. Agents like me because I make their lives easier.

If you comment and link back to my blog on your blog, you get your name in the hat twice.

What do you win?

The unvarnished truth from yours truly (and maybe even time with an agent).

I will pick a winner once a month and it will be a critique of the first 20 pages of your novel, or your query letter, or your synopsis (5 pages or less). People with superlative writing, I (with your permission) have been known to pass you onto an agent.

Anyway, I look forward to reading your comments and your writing!

The post Crossroads: Do the Dead Tell Tales? appeared first on Kristen Lamb.

Over 40 countries have a day to celebrate ‘mother’ and ‘mother figures’ with some variation of Mother’s Day. While millions of people will send flowers and gifts and take their moms, grandmothers, aunts, etc. out for a fancy day, other folks might struggle…a lot. People can feel a wide variety of emotions when it comes to a holiday devoted to celebrating a missing or deeply painful relationship.

While we often hear the term ‘daddy issues,’ what about ‘mommy issues’?

Granted, there was Freud. He had a lot to say about moms, and sex and apparently everything wrong with us stems from wanting to hook up with mom.

Freud needed better hobbies.

Not saying he was totally off-base. Mothers frequently are at the core of many psychological issues. But, to be fair to moms in general, we aren’t solely to blame for all things jacked up.

Just a Heads Up: Today’s post addresses child abuse (physical, emotional, and sexual), violence, abandonment, and similar traumas so please read with care.

When it comes to the nurture part of ‘nature and nurture,’ it seems only reasonable to explore half the parental equation. Sometimes 100% of the parental equation. Single-mothers head 80% of single-parent households. When one considers nearly a third live in poverty, this makes fertile ground for dysfunction.

Since millions of children have a ‘mother’ as sole, or at least the primary, caregiver, it stands to reason that moms have a significant impact on how we develop through childhood and into adulthood.

Mothers can be amazing and wonderful, but they can also be the source of unrivaled brutality. The mother wound is deep and traumatic and can have a major impact on psychological well-being.

The Mother Wound

In this post, we will explore the psychological impact mothers have across the spectrum. For the record, I am not a licensed psychiatrist, I just play one on the internet . This is why I’ll make sure to link to as many REAL experts as I can.

Anyway…

In previous posts, we’ve discussed how wounds don’t always need to be big to be BIG. Though today we’ll cover some more extreme versions of mother abuse, that—thankfully—is comparably rare.

All mothers are human.

The emotional injuries they inflict could be completely unintentional. As I mentioned earlier, a lot of single-moms are living in poverty. Financial stress and having to work multiple jobs means kids often spend a lot of time in daycare or with other relatives.

Kids can feel abandoned or unloved. Trusted caregivers might abuse them. Thus, adults might harbor resentment toward a mother who was simply trying to provide, who had no way of knowing those she’d entrusted with her child/children would betray a sacred trust.

Maybe your character is dealing with sibling issues. Mothers can unwittingly fuel sibling rivalry.

Frequently, mothers have their own struggles—mental health issues, depression, anxiety, substance addiction, abandonment issues, etc. If left untreated, she can unintentionally pass her traumas down to the next generation.

Since May is Mental Health Awareness Month, I’d like for us to maintain an open mind and compassion as we go along. Mental illness is real and impacts everyone around the person suffering.

Suffice to say, many mothers aren’t evil or sitting up all night thinking of ways to damage their kids. They’re simply working with limited tools.

***To learn more about the mother wound specifically, I’ll refer those interested to Bethany Webster. Her books and blogs are rich with information that can help readers personally and/or with psychologically rich character backgrounds for fiction.

Genre and Mommy Issues

Whenever we craft characters, ideally we need to flesh them out to the point they are as close to living/breathing people as possible. This is what will help readers connect to our characters.

Obviously, genre is going to dictate how extreme the mother damage is, as well as how and to what degree the damage manifests. If one is writing a cozy romance, a women’s fiction, contemporary fiction along the lines of Debbie Macomber, a cozy mystery, etc. then the more ‘run-of-the-mill’ mother damage is more appropriate.

Most moms are not all good or all horrible, but they are all human. In fact, most will fall in between.

When profiling your character, was the fictional mother/mother-figure:

• controlling
• a perfectionist
• constantly competing with her daughter
• guilty of obvious favoritism
• unable to show love
• one to withhold praise and affection
• immature
• someone who played the role of the child instead of the caretaker
• emotionally distant
• overly self-involved

You get the gist. All of these areas are common places mothers mess up to one degree or another, thus RIPE for creating inner demons and insecurities an MC must work through to solve a story problem.

But, for those who want to write suspense, thriller, psychological thrillers, dark fiction, true crime, horror, or any of those kissing cousins then, we have to take a trip to the dark side of mothers dear and deadly.

The Mother Shield

The mother shield is powerful. Most people cannot imagine that those tasked with caring for the frailest among us could be anything but loving and self-sacrificing. It is too terrible. This is how the mother mythos can serve as an amazing shield…or at least brilliant camouflage.

I believe there are (and have been) far more female serial killers than we could ever imagine (and emerging data/studies support I might be right). Women, mothers in particular, have a number of advantages which make them the perfect killers. For the sake of time, I will cover female serial killers more specifically in another post.

Suffice to say, society has the ‘madonna’ image of mothers. Mothers are sacrosanct. To even suggest anything else borders on blasphemy. This can create all kinds of challenges in life and in fiction.

Mothers and Munchausen by Proxy

M. Night Shyamalan’s movie The Sixth Sense thrust Munchausen by proxy disorder out into the world of popular culture for the first time (properly referred to as Fictitious Disorder).

The movie tells the story of a boy, Cole Sear, who claims he can see dead people. One ghost in particular, a little girl in a nightgown, hounds Cole. She terrifies him, namely because she’s always vomiting.

Come to find out, her mother poisoned her and now that the little girl is dead, her mother has moved onto poisoning the younger sister. The ghost recruits Cole as an ally to save her sister by exposing her killer…her mother (who suffers from Munchausen by proxy).

For a book that does an INCREDIBLE job probing this insidious disorder, I highly recommend Gillian Flynn’s Sharp Objects.

One section stood out to me, where she’s describing her mother and the toxic dance between the abuser and the abused.

I won’t give any spoiler alerts, because nothing in this book is what it seems. But, if you want insight into mothers, mental illness, abuse, Munchausen by proxy, and how this all plays out in fiction, then this is a must-read.

‘Mother’ & Factitious Disorder

Munchausen Syndrome—Factitious Disorder—is when a person deliberately makes themselves ill, primarily for attention. Munchausen Syndrome by proxy is when a person (frequently a mother or other caregiver) makes another person—usually a child, but also elderly people, the disabled and pets—seriously ill for attention.

I am definitely NOT an expert on this, so again I defer to forensic psychologists and experts Dr. Scott and Dr. Shiloh at L.A. Not-So-Confidential. If you want to learn more, listen to Munchausen Syndrome (Factitious Disorder) Part One and Munchausen Syndrome (Factitious Disorder) Part 2.

This is an extraordinarily complex mental disorder, which is why I’m not going very deep into the discussion. The important takeaway is that females—mothers—are the primary sufferers of Munchausen by proxy, thus are most often the abusers. Experts also often refer to this disorder as ‘medical abuse.’

There are plenty of real-life cases (too many). But, for a recent case, look no further than Gypsy Rose Blancharde and her mother DeeDee Blancharde. The 2017 Netflix documentary Mommy Dead and Dearest did an excellent job covering what happened.

Fictitious Disorder offers plenty of fuel for fiction. Gillian Flynn, as I mentioned, liberally applies ‘mommy issues’ in many of her books. There’s also a 2020 HBO movie, Run that probes into the shadow side of the mother figure.

A Tale of Mothers and Monsters

Toxic mother figures can inflict wounds their children carry for a lifetime. If we study the backgrounds of some of the most infamous killers in history, we see a disturbing pattern emerge when it comes to the role of mothers, especially in the early developmental years.

Again, depending on genre, case studies of real-life criminals (from killers to con artists) can be very helpful for crafting a villain with resonance.

Granted, (below) I’ve listed some of the most heinous offenders in modern history (that have documented ‘mommy issues’). Many of these criminals suffer with serious psychological damage. Thus, we are wise to take their ‘stories’ with a grain of salt, since they may or may not be the most reliable of narrators.

Also, some assertions are coming from third-party observers, such as the case with con artist Elizabeth Holmes.

‘Mother’ Issues Create ALL Kinds

Elizabeth Holmes’ mother has been criticized for relentlessly pushing her daughter to excel, thus possibly laying the groundwork for the Theranos debacle.

Aileen Wuornos‘ mother abandoned her in an abusive household where her grandfather allegedly molested her, and she claimed to have had a sexual relationship with her own brother.

Mary Bell’s mother rejected her at birth, left her with relatives and strangers and may have suffered from Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy since she frequently gave Mary drugs that made her severely ill.

Ed Kemper‘s mother was controlling and severely verbally, emotionally and physically abusive.

Charles Manson‘s mother, sixteen-year-old Kathleen Maddox, who a serious alcoholic, reputedly once sold him for a pitcher of beer.

Ed Gein‘s mother taught him men were evil and raised him as a girl.

David Berkowitz had a toxically close relationship with his mother.

Charles Albright’s mom was an intense germaphobe.

To reiterate, great writers have historically pilfered from real backstories. There is no need to reinvent the wheel. The wheel works.

Alfred Hitchcock’s famous movie Psycho drew liberal inspiration from serial killer, Ed Gein. Thomas Harris, author of the iconic novel Silence of the Lambs, also used real case studies and cobbled several killers together to create such infamous characters as Hannibal the Cannibal and Buffalo Bill.

Mother, May I?

In the end, all of us can thank our mothers for who we are today (for good or bad). The mother relationship is so crucial it has been the beating heart of myth, religion, poems and plays.

Thankfully, not every person with a toxic mother/mother figure grows up to be some deranged criminal. Some grow up to be incredible people who do great things despite their early traumas (Oprah Winfrey).

Conversely, some of society’s most notorious monsters had seemingly normal, loving mothers. Dennis Rader (BTK) is a prime example. From all indications, Rader had normal, loving, albeit imperfect, parents. Unfortunately, no amount of being a good mother can counter severe narcissism, which could have a genetic component.

All this said…

Last time, in my post The Deepest Wounds: Lies, Deception & Betrayal, I mentioned one way to create nerve-shredding story problems—rip away the thing people TRUST THE MOST. Maybe this is with our MC’s background. The mother relationship has damaged or destroyed their ability to trust.

We can also rip away what the audience trusts. No one sees the mother coming.

*coughs* Um…Psycho anyone?

In the End…

The world offers so much for writers to weave into story to add depth and texture. Since Father’s Day isn’t coming up, I’m not picking on dads. Moms, dads, siblings, kids, society, culture, religion, background, relatives, workplaces, bullies are all fabulous wells to draw from. Pay attention to LIFE, because that’s what adds the magic to the mundane.

Just remember, well-adjusted people make for boring fiction.

Thoughts? I LOVE hearing from you!

Thoughts about how much we can blame mothers for all that ails us? Any questions or comments to add?

I get this is a touchy subject, but not everyone had a mother they’re exactly excited to celebrate. That is simply life…which is what writers work with.

For those who have FABULOUS moms, it might be even more disconcerting to envision growing up with a mother like those listed above.

Any books, movies, experiences, stories?

Other than that, Happy Mother’s Day. I rented Mommie Dearest since, oddly, I had NEVER seen it before…despite knowing the references. Aaaand I wanted to hide in a blanket fort after watching. YIKES!

I love hearing from you, and to show my appreciation…

CONTEST

What do you WIN? For the month of MAY, for everyone who leaves a comment, I will put your name in a hat. If you comment and link back to my blog on your blog, you get your name in the hat twice.

The Prize?

The unvarnished truth from yours truly. I will pick a winner once a month and it will be a critique of the first 20 pages of your novel, or your query letter, or your synopsis (5 pages or less).

***Will announce April’s winner next post.

MOTHER OF ALL DEALS/CLASSES!

The Write Stuff Special: 20 pages for $55

Only TEN SLOTS AVAILABLE! Offer ends May 4th, 2020. Sign up HERE.

Small Steps with Classes

***All classes come with a FREE recording

Bring on the BINGE: How to Plot & Write a Series

Thursday, May 19, 2022 7-9:30 P.M. NYC Time

For more information, SIGN UP HERE.

The Art of Character: Writing Characters for a SERIES

Thursday, May 26th 7:00-10:00 P.M. NYC Time

For more information, SIGN UP HERE.

Practice Your Pitch: Master the Log-Line

Thursday, June 2nd, 7:00-9:00 P.M. NYC Time. This is a TWO-HOUR INTERACTIVE WORKSHOP!

For more information, SIGN UP HERE.

The post Mommie Dearest: The Mother Wound & Fiction appeared first on Kristen Lamb.

This won’t be a typical blog post, partly because Kristen is multi-tasking (trying to fight off a cold and pack for a trip while dealing with car issues), and partly because I have my hands full getting ready to teach The Creature Feature class bundle and preparing two really cool NaNoWriMo prep classes (more about that later this week!).

However, we know that you have come to depend on us for both solid writing advice and quality snark about that writing advice. Therefore, Kristen and I are pleased to bring you…

…some utterly ridiculous videos.

Reynolds & Lamb — Not the comedy the world needs, but what it deserves.

http://https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b2Sx0Qyij1E

If you have enjoyed this ridiculousness, feel free to subscribe to our YouTube channel.

We promise that we’ll be back in the next blog post with awesome content that you can really sink your fangs…er, teeth into!

Cait & Kristen

THE CREATURE FEATURE CLASS BUNDLE

Instructor: Cait Reynolds
Price: $110.00 USD (It’s LITERALLY one class FREE!)
Where: W.A.N.A. Digital Classroom
When: (see below)

Get three live classes plus all recordings for the price of two! Get YOUR spot in ALL of the classes…even if you can’t make it to the live sessions. HOW? FREE RECORDINGS OF ALL, BAY-BEE!

REGISTER HERE!

• FRIDAY, OCTOBER 12 – Paranormal: Getting Real with Ghosts, Angels, and Demons
• FRIDAY, OCTOBER 19 – Urban Fantasy: Salt Circle not Included
• FRIDAY, OCTOBER 26 – Bloody Beasts: Vampires, Werewolves, and Other Beastie Besties

Recordings of all three classes is also included with purchase.

SPOOKTOBER CLASSES (all part of The Creature Feature Bundle)

PARANORMAL: GETTING REAL WITH GHOSTS, ANGELS, AND DEMONS

Instructor: Cait Reynolds
Price: $55.00 USD
Where: W.A.N.A. Digital Classroom
When: Friday, October 12, 2018. 7:00 p.m. – 9:00 p.m. EST

REGISTER HERE!

Ever get the feeling that a paranormal romance WIP is turning out more reality ghost-hunting television than Demi Moore pottery party?

How about when a demon ends up sounding more like a goth teenager than an all-powerful agent of everlasting darkness? Or, when angels get confused as to whether they are supposed to be Nicholas Cage in ‘National Treasure’ or ‘City of Angels’?

Let’s not forget the time when asking friends and fellow writers for advice turned into a 172-comment trolltastic thread debating minutiae of scripture and ended with all our ‘Team Long Island Medium’ friends blocking our ‘Team John Edward’ friends.

All of this comes from a fundamental paradox in writing about the paranormal:

We are trying to define and describe the unexplained and unexplainable for the reader.

Well, get your EMF ghost meters and EVP recorders ready, because in this class, we’re going to turn off the lights and turn on the night vision cams…

This class will cover:

• Ghostbusters: five questions every writer needs to answer when writing about the living-impaired;
• Chills, chills, chills: writing the spooky stuff so readers feel like they’re really there;
• Flirting with danger: walking the fine line between the mysterious angelic stranger and creepy stalker demon (hint – one of them stalks your Facebook);
• The demon is in the details: from scripture to spirit boxes, how to get your ‘facts’ right, avoid trolls, and find that unique angle that will make your story stand out.

A recording of this class is also included with purchase.

URBAN FANTASY: SALT CIRCLE NOT INCLUDED

Instructor: Cait Reynolds
Price: $55.00 USD
Where: W.A.N.A. Digital Classroom
When: Friday, October 19, 2018. 7:00 p.m. – 9:00 p.m. EST

REGISTER HERE!

Be honest. How many voodoo dolls have you mutilated in your quest to become the next Laurell K. Hamilton or Sherrilyn Kenyon?

• 0-9: You’re probably too virtuous to ever get published.
• 10-19: Equivalent of the New Year’s resolution of voodoo…fizzles in week 2.
• 20-29: You’ve won NaNoWriMo once or twice and wear lucky writing socks.
• 30+: Now, we’re talking.

In all seriousness, urban fantasy has emerged as one of the strongest and most competitive categories in publishing, building on the momentum of legends like Anne Rice and expanding to embrace all kinds of sub-genres such as YA, satire, and romance.

But for all its badass convention-breaking, urban fantasy also a genre boobytrapped with the worst pitfalls of all the genres it borrows from.

If we’re not overdoing the Mickey Spillane-esque hard-boiled grit, we’re confusing which supernatural creature has which power. Or, we’re creating characters that are so wrapped up in their love lives with <insert hot supernatural guys here>, they almost miss the climactic battle between good and evil happening a couple blocks over.

Fear not! Strap on your vampire-hunting gear, grab your wolfsbane gris-gris, and don’t forget to bring your sarcastic sidekick to this class where I will help you navigate the mean streets and treacherous back alleys of urban fantasy!

A recording of this class is also included with purchase.

BLOODY BEASTS: VAMPIRES, WEREWOLVES, AND OTHER BEASTIE BESTIES

Instructor: Cait Reynolds
Price: $55.00 USD
Where: W.A.N.A. Digital Classroom
When: Friday, October 26, 2018. 7:00 p.m. – 9:00 p.m. EST

REGISTER HERE!

Every few years, publishing declares, “Vampires are dead!” and technically, this is correct. They are undead. You can’t keep a good vampire down. Or a good werewolf. (Down, boy!)

Like a dog with a bone, readers keep coming back to stories about vampires, werewolves, and other creatures because there is something irresistibly compelling about the danger of the ‘other’ that makes us question what it means to be human. Plus, vampires and werewolves can be totally hot, amiright?

However, trite tropes and careless creature creation can raise a reader’s hackles faster than a bad batch of AB negative. Okay, okay, I’ll stop with the awful mixed metaphors and puns. Still, a story that doesn’t offer anything new or compelling will suck the life out of a reader’s interest faster than day-old vampire…yeah, I know…bad joke…sorrynotsorry!

This is going to be a super fun class with a lot of juicy stuff to sink your teeth into…can’t-stop-won’t-stop….

This class will cover:

• Only human: how to walk the fine line between immortal angst and everyday relatability and create characters so cold, they burn, baby!
• Sparkle, shmarkle: picking through the mystery, history, and science of vampirism to create your own believable and betwitching bloodsuckers;
• That time of the month: from caricature to cryptozoology, what writers get right…and wrong…about werewolves and wolf shifters;
• Mortal problems: Do vampires pay taxes? If a hunter shoots a werewolf, is it involuntary manslaughter? ignoring these details can deal a fatal blow to a reader’s suspension of disbelief.

A recording of this class is also included with purchase.

About the Instructor:

Cait Reynolds is a USA Today Bestselling Author and lives in Boston with her husband and neurotic dog. She discovered her passion for writing early and has bugged her family and friends with it ever since. She likes history, science, Jack Daniels, jewelry, pasta, and solitude. Not all at the same time. When she isn’t enjoying the rooftop deck that brings her closer to the stars, she writes.

The post And now, for something a little different… appeared first on Kristen Lamb.