My first real writing started shortly after I read T.M. Wright’s A Manhattan Ghost Story. I’ve always been an avid reader but it was his book that made me want to test the waters. It was only natural I suppose that horror fiction is what I wrote-since it’s what I read and enjoyed the most. I was also writing plays as well and during this time period (88-90) I was at a creative frenzy. It helped that my roommate and writing mentor kept a fire lit under my ass as well. In ’90 Joe (my mentor) and I moved to Berkeley, CA. We started a theater company (New Wineskin Productions) and we wrote, directed, produced and sometimes acted in our own productions. We had good audiences, a nice place at the Lutheran Seminary at the top of the Berkeley Hills for our performances and a great company crew.
Like all good things however that came to an end. After a year or so we were all getting a bit frayed around the edges. Some personal conflicts developed and I moved back to Phoenix. The last story I wrote was titled Heart of Stone. A nonhorror piece about loneliness, betrayal and birds nests. Joe had told me when he read it that it was the best short story he’d ever read. Not a light comment either as he once spent 4 hours or so ripping a novel length piece of mine to shreds.
Once back in Phoenix I stopped writing. I don’t know why really, but I did. The ideas never stopped. Bits of scenes, characters, titles and even just one line continually cropped up. Some I scribbled down but most have been lost to the ether.
I started writing when Damon was killed last year. It was write to release the pain and avoid suicide or give in to the agony. I think I made the right choice. However it wasn’t until early this year that I really got down to the business of writing. It’s what I do. I love telling stories and entertaining people and if I never make a pro sale I know that at least once in my life I wrote something that got the best praise I could ever hope to get.