I did the whole writing thing backwards. I started out writing novels, all through my teens and into my late 20s. It wasn’t until 2018 that I became serious about short stories. My enthusiasm for the short form has only grown since. And lately, I’ve decided that I want to focus on it exclusively—at least for now.

In the month since my last post, I’ve written three and a half short stories. I probably could have written one more, but I went out of town. All were horror, two of which were cosmic horror, a subgenre I’m currently obsessed with. These were:

“My One and Only” – (4954 words) a body horror story about a runaway teen and a demon

“The Midst of the Labyrinth” – (2632 words) an epistolary story inspired by Lovecraft (though not part of his Cthulhu Mythos)

“The Chair” – (2450 words) a cosmic horror story that I wrote in one sitting; more of an experiment than something I plan to submit

“Exuviae” – (1623 words and counting) a good ol’ fashioned monster story that I’m currently halfway through; already my favorite on this list

In addition to writing short fiction, I’ve also been reading every short story I can get my hands on, immersing myself in the art form. I try to read at least one collection/anthology for every novel I read, and I’ve discovered I now prefer them to novels.

Some of my favorites include Clive Barker’s Books of Blood and The Imago Sequence by Laird Barron. I’m also re-reading H.P. Lovecraft and diving into fin de siècle weird fiction.

Though the above stories are all horror, it doesn’t mean I plan to write it exclusively. Horror is my comfort genre (as odd as that sounds) and I want to build a foundation in it before I branch out.

I’ve heard authors speak of their career goal, the achievement that will make them feel like they’ve succeeded. I’ve decided that mine is to have a story featured in a “Best of the Year” anthology. I read them voraciously when they come out, and to see my name in one would be the ultimate measure of success.

Now it’s time to get back to writing.

Tchau,

Zé