April 21, 2014
A Shuffled Pack: A Ramble
Last September or October or so, my friend Andy suggested a bunch of us on a forum write a book of horror short stories, just for fun. Now, I knew and still know very little about horror, but I wanted to join in. It sounded fun. I had no idea what to write for horror, however. I wrote a weird story about depression. It’s okay, for what it is, though not horrific or anything. Then, in a conversation, I basically got dared to write a furry horror story. So I did. And I was really happy with it. And people seemed to like it, even non-furries, who said things like “Wow, I think I understand the furry thing now” which is a weird thing to hear, I guess, especially considering it was kind of a failing and non-functioning version of it.
I hadn’t written anything in basically forever. But it felt really good to write that story, and I took some time to analyze why. I had picked reading back up recently, as a sort of calming focus to keep me from panicking. I hadn’t read anything in years, really. Reading still felt like work from my school days. But suddenly, I started reading fun things, and having a good time, and I read tons of books. I realized, while I was writing that weird furry horror story, that the same thing was true for my writing. Writing felt like work: I was putting a huge pressure on myself to write High Art, something with tons of depth. But was that what I was reading? No. Occasionally, perhaps, but mostly I was reading fun things, silly things, even sometimes sexy things. I was just reading what I wanted to read. Why couldn’t I just write what I wanted to write?
So that’s exactly what I’ve done. Since then I’ve written a lot of things. Sexy stories, novellas, short stories, and even a novel. I keep plugging away at things, editing, and modifying, but basically, I keep writing. I write what I want to see. It’s been a lot of fun.
One of my first complete successes was a story about a detective who was a dog having issues with being queer and trying to save her family. I liked it. Could I see flaws in it? Maybe. But I fiddled with it, and fiddled with it, until I liked it. And then it sat there, waiting for me to have the courage to do something with it.
I finally found the courage.
(Look at that awesome cover art that my friend ikks did for me! Oh man!)
A Shuffled Pack is not High Art. It’s probably not going to make you question your life or anything. But it was a blast to write, and, I hope, a blast to read. It’s got romance, some guns are shot, and there is probably more talk about heat cycles than there should be. But it’s my little novella, and I’m glad I did something with it, even if it only sells four copies or something. At least I put myself out there.
It takes a weird kind of courage to assume the ridiculous shit you like, or worse, make, is something someone else will care about. I’m glad I found that courage, even if everyone hates it. I really am glad.
If you want to buy A Shuffled Pack, you can click here. Thank you for your time.