Finding Inspiration in a Hospital Basement

My son has been going to various appointments at Children's Hospital of Buffalo for all of his 18 years. The hospital is short on space, so a few of the clinics are in the basement, among them, the lab that makes his AFOs (leg braces).

The basement is a series of winding corridors. Pipes and wires clutter every inch of the ceiling. The hospital staff stack bags of garbage up along the walls. You can hear the banging and clanging from the hospital laundry. I imagine there's more than a few critters skulking around the basement.

We happened to take a wrong turn after his appointment one time and got turned around. We wandered for a bit before someone pointed us in the right direction. Both he and I remarked that the basement would make a wonderful setting for a horror story.

I'm using what I saw as the basis for a sequence in The Gray Men, Book Two. One of my characters has been locked in a rather unpleasant basement room (the hospital in my story is abandoned) and she's not alone. I think it would be a horrible fate to be locked in a winding, twisty basement, especially after dark when few people are around. Pretty much anything the writer sees can be fodder for a story. With horror writers, it's always about imagining the worst happening and then dumping that on your characters.

The Day's Work

Wrote just over 1,000 words yesterday on the Gray Men Trilogy. I'm into the third book. Also editing the second book at the same time. I'm not sure when the second book will be released. Hoping sometime in the fall.

I put my undead serial killer novel Where The Dead Go in KDP/Select/Kindle Unlimited. It's available to borrow with a Kindle Unlimited Subscription.

The Fall Soccer league started and my thirteen-year-old scored two goals in a 4-3 victory by the Italy Gallons. Not sure why they're called the Gallons, but the kids had a great time and seeing the coach give my son an enthusiastic high five after his second goal was cool.

Bad things are happening to my characters in the Gray Men. This should be your mantra as a writer: Make them suffer.

Here's a snippet:

Wincing, she grabbed the rat. It squealed like it had been set on fire. She twisted in opposite directions. Something cracked inside the rat and it went limp. She tossed it aside and got to her feet.

She was soaked. Chills racked her body. She bent over and picked up the pipe, readied herself for the next wave.

Sunday Writing

We're celebrating my wife's birthday today with my in-laws. I took her out for dinner to Joe's Crab Shack and was pleasantly surprised. I'd go again. The Tabasco-butter dipping sauce was godlike. I even wore the crab/lobster bib with the words "Shrimpin' ain't easy" scrawled on it by the waitress. They need to put that on a t-shirt.

I got news that I was shortlisted for a Military SF anthology that I submitted a story to earlier this year. I'm hoping to have my story included.

Wrote some on the third Gray Men book. I'm also editing chapters in the second book. 

Novella Done, Trilogy Continues

The novella I'm working on is done. Just have to make a quick editing pass. It's a fun, B-movie story with tons of monsters. The Gray Men trilogy continues. I did a little writing up in the Thousand Islands, but mostly we chilled out at the beach and around the campfire.

The Gray Men will wind up being a trilogy. I had originally envisioned a four or five book series, but the story is telling me to wrap things up. 

Next up will be a zombie epic. I hadn't considered writing another zombie book, but a neat idea struck me. I'm going to see where it goes.

The Daily Writing

Putting the finishing touches on a novella that crams a bunch of different monsters in. Its been a blast to write. Probably won't have it uploaded for a couple more weeks, but it should be up before the end of August.

I've been toying with the idea of putting some older titles in Kindle Unlimited. These are books that aren't selling much, but I'm thinking Kindle Unlimited might give them some exposure. One writer I'm friends with on Facebook is making some nice money every week from his Kindle Unlimited titles.

Tomorrow I'll run some more errands and will continue getting ready for vacation.

Reading The Border by Robert McCammon and enjoying the hell out of it.

Today's Writing

I wrote 1,100 words on two different projects. One is a horror novella that takes place on an island loaded with monsters. The second is the third Gray Men book.

I worked on some new guitar licks, mostly Zakk-Wylde and Slash-type stuff. Repeating licks.

We had my oldest son's graduation party this weekend. Had a great time and the weather cooperated.

Off to the hot tub now. Leaving the youngest son to save Gotham on the PS4.

Ten Years Gone - Some Thoughts on My Dad

My dad and my uncle owned a tank and pump business together. It went out of business in the mid-eighties. Along with the tank and pump business, they owned a carwash. Both businesses were on the West Side of Buffalo. My father was at the tank and pump shop one day when his employee at the car wash called him. Apparently a disgruntled customer was claiming the car was somehow at fault for getting water in his gas tank. The angry customer was threatening to take the entire cash register drawer.

Dad said he would be right over. He owned a .38 revolver. Their business was in a rough part of town. One time someone actually broke into their shop and poisoned their guard dogs, two ill-tempered German Shepherds named Boots and Heidi. That’s another story for another time.

Dad went over to the carwash and walked in. As he told it, he flashed the .38 to the angry guy and said, “You still want to take the cash register drawer?”

The guy beat it out of there pretty fast.

Another time my parents were picking up our dog from the groomer on West Utica Street.  As they were getting into the car, a guy walking down the street started harassing my mother for money. Dad said, “You can walk away, or I can put a bullet in your ass.”

When I was around twelve-years-old, a neighbor refused to give back my basketball that had bounced into his yard, Dad took me to his house. It only took a scowl and a few words from my father to get the ball back.

Dad took zero shit off of anyone. He was an old school tough guy. The tough guy was also the guy that spent every Christmas staying up all night to assemble my toys. The same guy that got teary-eyed the first time he saw his newborn grandson. The same guy that I spent countless Sundays with watching and talking football.  The guy that had a soft heart but would go full Grizzly Bear if his family was threatened.

He liked to have fun with store clerks. I remember him setting down a quart of motor oil on the counter at Wilson Farms and saying: “My wife wants oil for a salad, is this the right kind?” He said it with such a straight face that the clerk was left dumbfounded. He chuckled a moment later and let the clerk off the hook.

That was Dad: tough guy, family man, prankster. 

He’s been gone ten years. Thinking about him on Father’s Day.

Creating a Writer's Board

I’m trying something new in order to organize the jumbled mess that is my brain. I created a writing board with a corkboard in my office. What’s on the writing board?

Index cards with brief descriptions of my next three scenes. I’ve found this helps keep the story going and I’m never at a loss for what comes next.

Story titles/ideas for my next 5-6 novellas and novels.

Reminders to stay active on Twitter, Facebook, etc.  I tend to drift from social media from time-to-time. Also some cool websites for writers.

A list of potential blog topics.

Some favorite writing quotes. Currently I’ve got Chuck Wendig’s “Inkslinger’s Invocation” up there now.

The writing board is basically there to keep me somewhat organized and to keep ideas visible. What else could go on a writing board?

A detailed outline, whether it's on paper or individual index cards

Lists of details regarding the characters in your current novel

Writing prompts

Pictures of locations/characters in your story

Bits of research that you need to access frequently

Maps of story locales

Fast food menus

The Mayan Calendar

Pretty much anything you like.

When You Feel Like Giving Up On Writing

Writing is a lonely game at times. I’ve been at it for twenty years. There have been times I’ve wanted to give it up, wondering if there were better ways to spend my time. I’ve never quit writing, and I don’t imagine I ever will.  But if you’re like me, the following thoughts may creep into your head and make you question why you write:

Problem: The writing has gotten dull, stale.

Solutions: Write in another genre. Start a side project, maybe a short story or novella. Read something by one of your favorite writers to kick you in the ass and get going again. Take a few days off and come back to your current project.

Problem: Everyone else is doing better than me.

Solutions: Stop paying so much attention to other writers. Be happy for their success. Your time may be coming.  In the digital age, writers have been given time.  With e-books, no longer does your book disappear from a store shelf in a month to make room for the next wave. Success in this business takes time.  

Focus on the writing.

Problem: My sales numbers suck.

Solutions:

Quit defining yourself by sales numbers. Focus on telling stories. Try and have a little fun. Remember why you started writing.

Write more books. How do you know the next book won’t be the one to goose your sales?

Write better books. Study books on craft to improve (I recommend Chuck Wending, James Scott Bell, and Sol Stein for books on craft).  Never stop learning the craft.

Tweak shit. Change book covers, re-write book descriptions, offer free stories on your blog or website.  

Problem: I have writer’s block.

Solution: Write the next sentence. And the one after that.  Worry only about the next scene. You surely can write a three or four page scene, can’t you? When that’s done, go to the next one. Scenes stack up and eventually build a novel.

Problem: I suck. My writing sucks. I’m a fraud. I can’t write.

Solution: Kill the negative little troll that sits on your shoulder and spews this kind of talk. Go ahead, punch him in the throat if you want. Unfortunately, friends and family can feed the troll. I had a very talented student in one of my writing classes. She had what it took to write professionally. The sad thing was her family thought her writing was a waste of time. She never finished any thing she started as a result. Someone says writing is a waste of time? Fuck ‘em. Who are they to tell you that?

And if you want to quit, ask yourself: Am I better off not writing? I’m going to guess the answer is no. Keep going.

Zombie Drawing Goodness

I found this cool zombie drawing video from this guy on You Tube. His channel is called Art of Wei and if you're into drawing, I recommend following him. He has some videos on here with techniques I never thought of using, such as shading your drawing more than using hard lines. No matter what your craft, it's always fun to learn new techniques. It makes you better at the craft, as well.

Thoughts on Promotion vs. Writing Time

Shooting to hit 1,000 words today. I'm around 70 pages into the second book of the Gray Man series. The first book is being proofread. Should be available in the next month or so on most platforms.

I've been thinking a lot about book marketing lately, and aside from a handful of books, most of the book marketing guides aren't much use. Many of the guides I've read offer the same advice (build a platform, find your tribe)  I've always felt a writer's time was better spent writing. I'd like to think the more titles you have available, the better the chance of growing a readership. We need to be visible as writers so people know where to find our books, but social media shouldn't take the place of writing. And if you're just starting out as a writer, you should be reading and writing your ass off.

I'd also like to see more articles and discussion about craft. Seems the Twitterverse is loaded with marketing and promotion advice. Not so much on craft. I'm sure the articles are out there. Just seems like since the digital revolution took place, the focus has shifted to promotion.

Started reading Richard Kadrey's "Sandman Slim" and tore through the first 80 pages in a few hours. I'm excited to get back to reading it. Love being excited by a book like that.

Winter Blues

As I write this post, there is a crow sitting on our garbage cans, which are at the road for trash pickup. It appears the crow has found something tasty in the garbage. It strikes me as a little surreal, because it's March 6th, the temperature is minus five, and we have 4-5 foot snow drifts outside. And yet we have a bird out there dining on the garbage. The crow just seems out of place. Maybe it's a sign spring is finally coming.

We have roofers coming today to clear all the snow and ice off our roof. The ice is beginning to make a number of unsettling noises, like a ship getting ready to break apart and sink beneath the waves. Or at least that's how I imagine it. Like a lot of people in Western New York, we have wound up with ice dams and the resulting leaks they cause.

There are far worse weather situations than a harsh winter, but after forty-two winters, I've never been more ready for spring to arrive.

On the writing front, the first book in the Gray Man series is ready for proofreading. I've been tweaking it a bit before my first reader/proofreader looks it over. I'm about seven thousand words into the second book. It might be a trilogy, or possibly four books. I like the idea of writing a series, and I'll likely be doing more of them in the future. I think readers enjoy investing in them, as well. I've seen this with The Dead Land Trilogy (my zombie books). They've become by best selling titles and when I was in the midst of writing them, I had readers asking when the next book was coming out.

So to recap: winter bad, series good.

Sneak Peak of The Gray Men, Book One

An excerpt from my WIP, The Gray Men. Unedited copy, so it might be a little rough.

Copyright 2015 Anthony Izzo

1

They had come to kill her. Trina was sure of that. She stole glances in the rearview mirror. The drive-in speaker blared fuzz in her ear. On screen, Liam Neeson chopped a would be terrorist in the side of the neck. The last night at one of the last drive-ins in the state. A little relaxation is what she'd hoped for. Now she had to deal with the killers.

Not that she wasn't ready for them; she had a Sig Sauer P220 in the glove box and a pistol grip shotgun under a blanket in the back seat. Not to mention two K-Bar knives strapped on her person. She reached over, popped the glove box, and took out the Sig. She set it on her lap. On screen, Neeson was blasting two guys to hell; she liked his style.

They'd trailed her here in a black Ram pick-up. Hadn't done a great job of it, as she'd spotted them a quarter mile back, matching her moves. Now they were parked two cars behind her, at least two of them that she could see sitting in the cab of the Ram. They were Larsen's men, of that she was sure. What she didn't know was how they'd caught her scent; it didn't matter now. She'd have to deal with them.

The bad thing about these fucks was that they didn't care. A public place meant nothing to them. They'd shoot you up in a day care center. It didn't matter as long as they found the target. Larsen wanted her dead. She'd almost caught up to him near Albany, but he'd slipped away. Now he'd set his dogs on her.

She peeked in the rearview mirror. On the screen behind her, they were showing some animated flick. There would be a lot of kids. Trina basically thought kids were booger and fart machines, but she didn't want to see any of them dead. When the men came for her, she'd have to draw them away somehow.

She glanced at the Subaru parked next to her. The young couple inside were locked up, deep kissing. The guy had a hand under his girl's tank top. At least someone was enjoying themselves right now.

She looked in the rearview. They were still watching the movie, both of them wearing sunglasses.

Subtle, fellas. Why not just throw on some black trenchcoats, too?

It was about to go down. Time to move.

She slipped the Sig into a shoulder rig under her jacket. She'd kept the rig on her but had put the weapon in the glove box when she'd pulled into the drive-in. No need to arouse suspicion. She didn't have a permit. Nor did the people that had armed her, she was sure.

Trina stepped out of the Acura. She shut the door. It was warm for early October. Seventy degrees at this time of night. A lukewarm breeze blew across her face. She started down the first row of cars. The snack stand, with its giant neon hamburger sign, stood a few hundred feet from the screens. Beyond that was a white stucco building that housed the restrooms. That would be the place to go.

She glanced sidelong at the truck and saw them step out. There were three in all. A big bald guy with the sleeves cut off his flannel, a lanky guy with motor-oil slick hair and aviator shades, and a woman shaped roughly like a tennis ball on toothpicks.

She crossed the road that bisected the drive-in and passed the snack stand. The greasy smell of movie popcorn drifted from the stand. It made her stomach rumble.

They would be about fifty feet behind her. She risked another glance, concerened about giving herself away. The trio walked side-by-side.

The bathroom was lit by sodium vapor lights. Even in early fall, moths fluttered in the lights.

There was no one around the bathrooms. She reached the ladies' room door and pushed inside. Ducked down and checked the stalls. She saw no feet, no one sitting on the johns. When she was sure it was clear, she took out the Sig and slipped into the first stall. She left it open but climbed onto the toilet seat, balancing her Doc Martens on the seat, hunkered down.

She waited.

The Coming Year

I worked up a sketch last night of a Game of Thrones character. I've gotten away from drawing, but intend to do more of it this year. The Internet and social media can be huge distractions, and I suppose we could all use our time better. I sometimes find myself checking Twitter and Facebook when I could be doing something more constructive. And by writing that last sentence, I realize I sound like my parents.

As for writing, I've passed the 40K mark on The Gray Men book. I can see this been a 3-4 book series  if I decide to go that route. I always like to have a good first line to kick the book off. First line in the Gray Men? "They were coming to kill her."

On the reading front, I'm just about done with Brilliance by Marcus Sakey. I'm liking it a lot and already have the second book in the series. More reading is also on my agenda for this year.

Random Concert Post

Found this on YouTube. Jane's Addiction performing "Jane Says" at Artpark in Lewiston, NY.  Me and a buddy caught the show. We were sitting roughly where the video was shot from.