Kevin Lucia

Won't you please take Hiram Grange home with you? He's tired, pissy, has fought too many monsters today, and just wants to find a place to rest, kick up his feet, enjoy a nice pipe stuffed to the brim with Opium and Presbyterian tobacco, and toast a little absinthe on the side.  If you're extra special nice, he might even bring his collection of limited edition Jodie Foster DVDs.  Maybe.

Or, if you're not interested in Hiram's charming company, perhaps you'd like to sample excerpts from his upcoming novella series, (transcribed by five equally charming fellows who've been very faithful to his dictations...mostly), or would also be interested in fiction by Kim Paffenrof, Michael West, Nate Southard, and more. Below - the blurb for Hiram Grange & The Chosen One, written by none other than myself. Hiram told me it all - over a nice roast duck....

 

Hiram Grange doesn't believe in fate; he makes his own destiny. It's a good thing, too, because Queen Mab of Faerie has foreseen the world's destruction, and it's all his fault.  He must choose: save an innocent girl or the universe? It's just another day on the job for Hiram Grange.

Take him home today...

Posted by kevinlucia at 06:15 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

God. I LOVE to read, just as much as writing, honestly.  It's funny how that often gets lost in the shuffle of pursuing a writing career, especially when doing the book reviewing gig.  That's sad, in some ways, because isn't this how the whole thing started? I read a book in 8th grade that was just awesome, and relevant - in an 8th grade sort of way - but it felt unfinished, like it needed a sequel.  I wanted to know how the story ended, so I thought I should write the ending in my own sequel.  That was the start of my writing career, but it was born directly from my love of reading.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

How much I forget that; how I wish I could go back to those days.

I think it's important for writers not to lose that magic feeling they get when engrossed by a great book, and - even as we all try to carve out time to write in our busy lives - not to let our writing time overshadow our reading time.  I don't know how many new/struggling writers say they "don't have time to read", and to me, that's sad.  That's how we recharge our writing batteries, right? By soaking up and internalizing good writing. 

However, I think it's just as important for writers to read "guilt free" as well, and read what THEY find appealing.  During a lunch conversation at this past year's Borderlands Press Writers Bootcamp, I lingered on the edge of a conversation, (which I do often, because I suffer from acute foot-in-mouth disease), about contemporary writers and authors and books: and I was a little dismayed that at a conference about writing fiction, full of attendees who should adore fiction, the conversation centered mainly on critical analysis of craft...and not the love of a good story or book (which, of course, is all relative).

Any second year Creative Writing student will repeat the mantra of their instructors that "to write well, we must also read well".  That's a slippery slope that writers should tred carefully, I think.  When do we cross the line from writer-hopefuls who've fallen in love with storytelling, to hungry "up-and-comers" who dissect every piece of literature for faults we want to avoid? Granted, you can never account for taste, but still...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For example. I've read Twilight. Was it the best thing I've ever read? Hardly. Sterling craft? Not so much. Let me tell you a secret, though...

I liked it. Really, I did. Apparently, thousands of pre-teen and teenage girls feel the same (A former student described it as "literary crack for teenage girls", and she wasn't far off).

So Meyer's not Hemmingway, Carver, or Bradbury. So Stephen King thinks she can't write at all?

So what?

I was amazed - and silent - at a conversation that picked apart everyone from Brian Keene to Neil Gaiman, simply because Neil uses "too many adverbs". Okay, word economy is really important, and adverbs aren't always your friend...but when did the usage of an adverb ascend to the same level as an illicit drug?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Anyway, I wave my hand at all that and say: whatever. Read what you want, what you love. Issac Asimov was the first writer I remember falling in love with.  Discovered him in high school, devoured his Robot, Empire, and Foundation novels, marveled at how he connected them all. I've come to love Bradbury in these later years, and most recently re-discovered Fahrenhet 451, which I kid you not, is the most important book EVAH. I'd go on, but there are too many to list.

Read.  For fun. Pleasure.  Entertainment, education, and yes, writers - read to help grow your craft. But, like anything else, if you don't read simply for the pure joy of reading...what's the point?

Posted by kevinlucia at 11:57 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Well, if it ever comes about, we can always blame Michelle Pendergrass for the title, though I doubt we'll actually call it that.  Plus, it won't be that much like MoCon mostly because:

A. There's no way you can copy the awesomeness that is MoCon.

B. We'd probably do something a bit more generic, looking at fiction and writing in general.

It's largely an unformed idea at the moment.  We had the begginnings of something this year with our first annual Arts Retreat at our church, which welcomed visiting speaker and artist  David Taylor.  I was invited to read "Way Station" from Coach's Midnight Diner, (left), to talk about my writing habits and writing horror.

It was a good time.  Right about the time Dave Taylor showed us a slideshow of necessary artistic influences and listed Shaun of the Dead as one of them, I suspected he was my kind of guy, and when he compared the plot of the standard (bad) Christian novel to the plot of a porn movie...I was sold.

How does THAT go, exactly?  Bad Christian fiction = porn?  Sorry.  You'll have to attend the conference - if we have one - to find out.

Anyway, the arts director and I have been talking for awhile about doing something along the lines of a writing convention, because there's not much in this area for writers, with the exception of the great work our poet laureate Andre Guruianu has done with The Broome Review and the workshops they've held in the last two years (We'd certainly invite them to participate, too). 

I don't want to run a conference on "how to write Christian fiction", though.  I want a conference focused on the art of writing, Christian/faith fiction being only a small segment.  I've been very fortunate to encounter writers of all kinds, across the faith/nonfaith/mainstream spectrum, and I'd love to bring them together to talking about writing - as an art form, as a business, as a life pursuit, as a discipline, if only because when I started out I didn't have access to this kind of information and floundered for quite some time. 

Tamara Murphy (UCCC Creative Arts Director) and I still need to hammer out the details, but what I'm imagining is a conference for the public at large and anyone interested in writing in general, both fiction and nonfiction.  We'd have panels, workshops, readings, and even suggested readings: suggested fiction and nonfiction.

I'd like the focus to be "On Moral Fiction/Writing".  Renowned author John Gardner wrote a critical work of the same name, and though controversy still swirls as to whether or not he wrote it as a cruel prank, (most of his own fiction contradicts his critical essays, being mostly postmodern), the idea has resonance with me.

As a writer and a reader, I'm not so much interested in creating or enjoying fiction with an evangelical thrust aimed at pushing ideals or beliefs, I'm more interested in fiction that has substance: that there's not only good old fashioned "suspension of disbelief" and flight of fancy fun, but that there's something solid to take away, something that benefits humanity as a whole.   In other words, in addition to the entertainment factor: what's the message? What's the point, even?

Anyway.  Some thoughts.  KevCon.  Doesn't really sound as good as MoCon, but we'll see.  As long as Michelle comes and makes her Shrimp Etouffee.  Heck, I'd call it PenderCon, just for that.

Posted by kevinlucia at 10:26 AM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

An introduction to the scandalous and scurrilous Hiram Grange, reluctant hero against the unseen terrors of the earth! Novella excerpts from the upcoming Hiram Grange series, featuring authors Richard Wright, Kevin Lucia, Scott Christian Carr, Robert Davies, and Jake Burrows, fiction from Kim Paffenroth, Michael West, John Bruni, Norman A. Rubin, an interview with Ronald Damien Malfi, columns from Michael Knost, Steve Vernon, Norman Rubenstein, and DL Snell, the Webley revolver, and real life confluences!

 

Buy now.

Posted by kevinlucia at 07:37 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

It goes without saying that I have other things I could do.  Grade papers. Make lesson plans.  Right now, however, I can't make myself dive into it. Still trying to shake off MoCon.

I've realized  many valuable things.  One of them is the greatest value of Cons, and it's not promoting your work.  It's also not about networking.  It's also not about walking timidly around people you respect, afraid to be a part of things, looking in from the outside.

It's about friendship. Solidarity. Brother/Sisterhood.

I've always had a hard time making friends, mostly because I feel awkward around people I don't know.   I'm socially clumsy.  Over the last 10 years, most of my truest childhood friends have left, and finding new friends has been hard.  I've developed many excuses/explainations for why I haven't made new friends, some of them partially true. 

I have a reputation for sticking not one, but two feet into my mouth.  Because my voice carries, I speak much louder than I want, so I sound like a loudmouth.  I'm short on social graces. That guy who inevitibly says the wrong thing at the wrong time?  That's me. 

I thought these things made it hard for me to make friends.  I realized the true reason this weekend, though, and it's really none of those things (though they do make me the fabulous weirdo I am).

I'm a writer.  Writers are strange folks.  We're very content to spend long hours alone writing, but we also crave company - because we're humans.  We're built that way, to seek out others. The problem is - and this will sound arrogant, but there's no other way to put it - non-writers often DON'T GET IT, and that can make writers feel without a brethren. 

They don't get the fact that our heads are always full of voices, clammoring to be heard.  They don't understand the obsessive drive to put fingers to keys or pen to paper.  They can't understand the insanity of commiting so much time, effort, energy, blood, sweat, and tears to something with no immediate dividends.  So, when we writers hang with the "civilians", (undoubtably, this is different in every case), we can feel a little....out of place.  Adrift.  Without a home.

About the time Alethea Kontis  - sitting right next to me Sunday morning on Maurice Broaddus' front lawn - screamed something along the lines of, "I'm with fifty of my best friends!", I realized an intergral truth of Cons.  It certainly is about promotion and networking, but it's largely - and maybe mostly - about friends.  Seeing old friends, friends known digtally but never in RL, making new ones.  Networking and opportunities happen on their own, and for the most part can't be controlled.  The best part is making friends.

After I got home last night, I shared with my wife, (who is my BEST friend, and does GET IT - without being a writer herself), that something amazing was happening. I was finally making friends.  It's a really good feeling.  In some ways, (though I'm speaking as a newbie awash in the glow), it makes all the other "book stuff" look pale in comparison.

Danielle - whom I shared an adventure with in the pouring rain as we got lost on the way to Maurice's house Friday night - mentioned the concept of "Deyanu" Saturday night.  Dayunu is part of the Passover Haggadah used at Passover Seders.  The word "Dayenu" means "It would've been enough."  Ironically - or perhaps not so - we had a message at our church about this only weeks ago.

So, the final lesson from this weekend? If all I've gained is a larger circle of friends who love the same things I do and are also awesome fun, and I never quite realize my publishing dreams?

It would be enough.

 

Posted by kevinlucia at 04:13 PM | Permalink | Comments (6) | TrackBacks (0)

This will be quick, because I've got some writing to do today, as well as Mother's Day things. AND right up front: I'm not in a blue, bleak moment about my writing skills. I'm to a point where I see myself improving all the time, and I'm willing to do the things necessary - go back to Borderlands, go to conferences, write until I bleed - to get better.

I just get frustrated at how I act, sometimes. I've fully come to believe over the last year that how people perceive you in the writing industry is just as important, at times, as the writing - although in the long run, quality writing always trumps.

The thing is, I look back over the two years, and I wince. Often. I ask myself: "Did I really say that on that forum?" Did I really write a blog about that? Did I actually ask Coach to endorse that little rag, because of a not-so-good-story of mine they published? (Inside joke). Did I really think that publishing idea that burped to life in my head was all that great?

To be fair and honest, I AM having many more moments when I'm thinking straight and clearly. I seem to be talking a lot less and listening a lot more, (which has been a big factor in my diminished blogging, along with time), and with me, that's always good. I managed to not make a fool of myself at Borderlands, and actually came across as someone semi-knowledgeable. I plan on sitting quietly in a corner this coming weekend at MoCon, pen in hand, notebook in lap, listening and learning. I have the same plan for NeCon and Context 22 (well, along with a little Cain raising with Tim Deal and R. Scott). I'm writing tons of reviews, emailing them off to Shroud and Leisure, posting them on the blog and Amazon, and staying quiet about it in the process, just doing the work - which, when I reviewed solely for the CBA, paid off in huge dividends.

Still, I wonder if I'll ever be able to totally not act like a tool. We all have our moments, but I seem to have a lot of them. Nothing bad happened this weekend with my appearance at our church's Arts Festival, it went fine. No, I'm cringing over some emails I sent that sound fanboyish in retrospect, worrying about some crossed wires I had with a publisher over a question I had, and generally just feel goofy today.

I avoid forums and post rarely. I fear flame wars, plus I rarely have anything important to add. I no longer post lengthy "what am I working on" blogs, because...well, let's face it...I'm not Brian Keene. I don't have legions of breathless fans hungry for my next work. I avoid certain snark blogs, just because I don't want the kind of attention they draw. Most of the time, I feel like I'm all grown up.

Others? Eh. Today would be one of those days.

And you know what? It's all good. Part of the process. It's a great mantra, and I'm going to add to it:

"talk less, listen more, and write even more."

That having been said, a stack of reviews is calling to me.

Posted by kevinlucia at 07:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)