“Things Taken” is a feature length screenplay in which an award winning journalist and rape-survivor struggles to regain her sense of identity in the years following her attack. When a series of home-invasions becomes too bizarre for her detective boyfriend to handle on his own, she decides to assist in solving the case. As the two get closer to unraveling the mystery they are terrified to learn that the perpetrator may not be of this world.

Fear of woman victim of domestic violence and abuse (Shutterstock)

Fear of woman victim of domestic violence and abuse (Shutterstock)

Things Taken” is written in a lean and visceral style that allows the reader/viewer to be transported to both familiar and alien landscapes. The script also offers a unique perspective on what exactly may lie beyond the grasp of human consciousness while staying true to the basest human desires.

A green energy expert claims humans and aliens have made hybrids

The protagonist to “Things Taken” is a woman named SARAH who is searching for more than the outer story arc of the script suggests; she is determined to regain the strength and dignity that was taken from her by the murderous rapist that left her for dead. The abduction of her friend, MELINDA is the inciting incident that demands she face her inner demons in order to keep others from suffering her own hollowing fate. Her inner journey depicts a broken woman’s reclamation of life’s most important elements: feelings of safety, self-respect, and personal beauty.

It would make sense that the process of editing and finalizing would be the most drawn out and pain-staking to a group of individuals (writers and other creatives) that are traditionally self-critical and border-line paranoid about how their work may be received.

Yet, despite this unfortunate reality, editing and proofing is not only the best way to make a work stand out, but also for an author to transcend from amateur to professional. Many literary powerhouses have passed on their wisdom about the editing process and regardless of what they say or how they say it, the end result is generally the same:

Writing down your ideas is only the beginning!

or the ever-popular euphemism,

Real writing begins AFTER the first draft is complete.

For me, the thought of editing is no different. I feel the urge to tell another story the second I wrap up the one that I am working on. But, how fair would that be to the characters that inhabit the pages, the meters within the stanzas, or the themes shrouded beneath the webs of prose that we, as writers labor so hard to create?

The answer:

Not at all.

Image result for editing

Editing takes determination and patience, but the resulting drafts are far more rewarding than half-finished or open-ended manuscripts that are not just unsuitable for the market place, but questionable for even sharing with a friend or family member!

As some of my more regular readers probably know, I have just completed a close-to-final edit on my upcoming full length novel, The Legend of Thunderbird, Coyote, and Joey Gordon. The time spent in editing that beast could have allowed me to create a couple of smaller sized works from concept to print (or kindle), but like the ideas outlined above:

The end product was totally worth it!

To effectively end this post, I would like to leave you with a couple of my favorite editing quotes:

“Kill your darlings, kill your darlings, even when it breaks your egocentric little scribbler’s heart, kill your darlings.”

-Stephen King-

“I believe more in the scissors than I do in the pencil.”

-Truman Capote-


Have you ever noticed that sometimes a movie, novel, or other work of creative prose may have an outstanding premise, but ends up leaving you wanting?

Like dry turkey without gravy.

A peanut butter sandwich without jelly.

You get the idea.

When I used to encounter these common offenders in my pre-writing life I would ask myself questions like where did the author go wrong? Or, the story was so cool, but why did it leave me unconvinced and unfulfilled?

And then, late one dark and stormy night (aka sitting at my desk writing about a subject that was new and unfamiliar) it happened to me. I was feverishly writing a suspenseful paranormal   screenplay about extra-terrestrials through the eyes of a hard-boiled detective. I successfully dodged clichés (aside from hard-boiled of course) and everything was coming together, and THEN:

I re-read it.


I took a break from my writing desk and stepped into my backyard, which for me always offers some distance from the worlds in my head by showcasing the world that we live in. In the foothills of a secluded semi-desert valley, I am always treated with scenes of local wildlife, bright stars, or air traffic from the local military base. I thought about what was working in my story and what wasn’t. I realized that the detective, who’s perspective the story was told through was just too strong and level-headed to create the tension that I was really looking for. His girlfriend, a journalist and rape survivor, was a much better outlet for a story about vulnerability and offered the reader more of a human connection.

I re-wrote the story through the journalist’s perspective and was amazed that it not only increased the overall tension, but made the thought of alien abduction all the more terrifying as she could relate it to her past experience of being raped. People usually don’t like movies for aliens or monsters alone (although in my opinion, they DO help quite a bit), the stories that are really successful and memorable are usually the ones that speak to audiences on an emotional or human level.

Of course, if a story isn’t working the way that you want it to it could just be bad (I have had a couple of those too!), but if you have a great premise and feel that your narrative is not as strong as it could be, a change in perspective could be just the thing that you are looking for.

Hey there horror fans!

I couldn’t sleep a few nights ago and decided to write this creepy little diddy. I hope that you all like it.

Reader beware if you have a mirrored closet door…

Or a brother named Bobby.


The house creaked and settled; each sonic intrusion breaking the silky silence of night. We used to live in the city. We used to have the buzz of traffic to lull us to sleep. We used to have strangers talking and passing each other in the night to remind us that we were not alone. That there was a pulse to the city and that if something were to happen, help would never be too far.

My parents just bought a home in the country. A variable farm estate to tell the truth, and it is all the things that our old house was not. I stare at the bottom of my brother’s bed and try to imagine the sounds, but I can’t seem to do it over the absoluteness of the silence. I wonder if Bobby can hear me breathing, because I can’t hear him. I think it is because he has the top bunk, but what if he had actually stopped breathing?

I think of the acres of green farmable land just beyond our bedroom and what would happen if I actually did find my brother dead and lifeless. I imagine throwing the window open and screaming into the night. The still air and statuesque trees swallowing my cries like a vacuum. A black hole manifesting, random and cold just beyond the barrier of our walls.

I don’t know how long I lie in bed before I could fall asleep. But when I do I feel like I’m sinking. Like the vacuum thing from outside crept between the crack in the window, slithered under my bed, and is now pulling me into my mattress.

Hours into the night something jars me from sleep.

A sound.

Something that I am not familiar with.

I open my eyes and wait for them to adjust to the inky blackness of our room. They do not adjust, at least not completely. I can see the outline of my dresser. Of Bobby’s. My mind fights to identify what exactly the sound is, but something else distracts me.

Blocks me.

Freezes me.

Makes my breath sit heavy in my chest. I can hear the pulse of my heart expanding and contracting in my ear drums.

There is a woman in front of our closet, at least that’s what my eyes are allowing me to experience. Something is not right about her. The closet sits about ten feet from the bed that Bobby and I share, but somehow the woman’s feet are planted on the carpet about a foot and a half from the open mirrored slider and her head and shoulders are obscured from my sight. I can tell that she is leaning over my brother in the top bunk. I wonder to myself how the woman is able to do such a thing from such a far distance because she doesn’t look tall.

“Shhhh huuuuh,” I hear Bobby sigh, “shhhh huuuuh.”

I look again the woman’s body and realize why it doesn’t look completely impossible; the woman’s mass seems believable, but her torso has stretched across the room allowing her to do whatever she is doing to Bobby. My pulse quickens to a point that I think that my eardrums will pop right out of my head. I look at where the skin of the woman’s stomach is illuminated by a thin sliver of light from the blinds. I can’t tell for sure, but I think that her skin is scaled like a snake or lizard. The light also highlights the tiny outlines of bubbles crawling down the center of her torso. They remind me of crawling spiders or one of those Discovery Channel specials that shows a snake swallowing its prey.

“Shhhh huuuuh. Shhhh huuuuh.”

And then the gravity sets in.

This thing is going to kill Bobby.

And then.

It might decide to kill me too.

“B–,” I begin. I feel the pressure in the room increase. My ears pop and for a second I think that my eardrums did pop out of my head, just like I thought they would.

The woman’s body stills completely. The room silent save for Bobby.

“Shhhh huuuuh. Shhhh huuuh. Shhhh hu—“

And then it was silent.

I close my eyes.

“B–“ I take a deep breath, “Bobby?”

I open my eyes and the woman is over me now. Her piebald skin glistens in the slivers of light; like the underbelly of a toad. I am drawn to her mouth that is opened wide. I see the glimmering hint of tiny teeth that look like sewing needles. Beyond them is darkness. The kind that can be felt in the heart and the bones and the soul just as much as it can be seen with the eyes.

I am completely paralyzed now.

At the mercy of this thing that had done something terrible to my brother.

To Bobby.

Unable to move my body, I force myself to look the thing in the eyes. When I do, all I am met with is more darkness. Two tiny mouths with the same little sewing needle teeth stare back at me.

Into me.

And then, somehow, I scream.


Not Only the Dead now live!

Posted: April 5, 2016 in Uncategorized

Hey there horror fans,
My novelette is now live on amazon. It is only 0.99 and I would love some feedback. I had some minor formatting issues, but I think that they are all worked out now.

More to come VERY soon.

Full length novel edited and awaiting cover art.

Follow up to ‘Not Only the Dead’ in the works and nearing completion.

Going to be a big year everyone!

Thanks again for your support,

Not Only the Dead https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01DSIBMJ8/ref=cm_sw_r_other_awd_Rz9axb76FAQBG

Hey there horror fans!


Sorry for the recent inactivity, but I have been totally immersed in some very exciting projects. These projects will be available on amazon in the VERY near future. I have just finished formatting my novelette, ‘Not Only the Dead’. Loyal readers to this blog have already gotten a taste of the story, so if you like it: please help support this and future offerings by downloading the kindle edition of the novelette and leaving a review if you have the time.

I will certainly post a link when the ebook goes live!

Thank’s again for all of your continued support.


Since the dawn of human culture, a mostly silent debate has been occurring. It is one that transcends religion, cultural expectations, as well as political or geographical boundaries. You as the reader may have some idea as to what the topic might be, and I can assure you that some knew what to expect from this post just from reading the title. Either way, this post may at first seem out of place on my website, but I assure that as the subject matter unfolds, or more appropriately manifests, it will seem as right and familiar as a drinking buddy’s sofa bed.

husband sleeping on the couch

The debate I refer to is that of the existence of the paranormal. This can be considered a somewhat broad and all-encompassing word as it can refer to anything that falls outside the boundaries of normal perception; this could be a spiritual abnormality, an extraterrestrial presence, a crypto-zoological encounter, or a simple glimpse into the world of extra-sensory perception. These topics are almost always laced in obscurity and veiled by a tarp stitched with the thread of cultural taboo. Academics are often shunned or ostracized if they acknowledge any of the aforementioned topics with anything more than a wry comment and a disbelieving smirk.  Then of course there were the classical attacks on the paranormal by organized religions throughout history, including, but not limited to the Spanish Inquisition, and the Salem Witch Trials.

Now with the broad strokes taken care of, we can take a look at the esoteric meat and potatoes of the subject. Most people have had (or think that they have had) a paranormal experience or at least know someone who has. A 2005 Gallup poll showed that 74% of Americans believe in at least one aspect of the paranormal (which Gallup broke up into the following categories: Extrasensory Perception, Demonic Possession, Psychic Healing, Telepathy, Haunted Houses, Extra-Terrestrial Visitation, Clairvoyance, Astrology, Ghosts, Reincarnation, Post-Mortem Communication, Witches, and Spiritual Channeling). Notice that the pollers did not even mention the existence of crypto-zoological entities like Bigfoot, the Jersey Devil, and Moth Man; I would think that this would push the believer percentage up to at least 80%. According to Americans, the most believable paranormal categories were ESP (41%) and that houses can be haunted (37%).

With numbers and percentages like these, the reason that books, movies, and other entertainment mediums often find a reasonable level of success in the horror/sci-fi genres becomes self-evident. People are intrigued by the thought of the “beyond” and many find a sense of comfort and even quasi-immortality in the idea of some sort of existence beyond the grave, whether it be spiritual or  esoteric. I would postulate that many of the writers who choose to express themselves in the supernatural genre have likely had some type of paranormal experience of their own. This makes sense if you think about it; most drug and alcohol counsellors have had experience with substance abuse, most psychologists have experienced some level of psychosis (or have witnessed it in someone close to them), and every exterminator has probably seen Starship Troopers too many times.

Stephen King has sold an estimated 350 million copies of his accumulated and extensive creative works. Nearly all of King’s books at least skirt upon paranormal topics, and some of them would be more accurately described as driving through said topics with a bull dozer constructed with words and driven by fear. King has discussed paranormal topics in countless interviews over the years, and is a believer in ESP (like 41% of America!) and has alluded to some ghostly encounters at the Stanley Hotel, which became the basis for one of his more popular novels, The Shining.

Clive Barker, the spinner of such twisted tales as the film Hellraiser and the novel, Imajica, has never publicly alluded to any personal paranormal experiences. However, when Barker was a young boy, he witnessed the unfortunate accidental death of a prominent sky diver in a grandiose Liverpool airshow.  The experience, although not paranormal, may have set the tone for many of his macabre tales. Understandably so, considering how a young person’s mind often times tries to rationalize death as a point of spiritual transference as opposed to one of finality.

Dean Koontz is another well-known horror writer, who finds himself in the company of the aforementioned authors, but is included in this short list with a slightly different subtext. A quote from Konntz’s  novel, Velocity, is a very good example of how the author may feel on the subject of the paranormal; “Houses are not haunted. We are haunted, and regardless of the architecture with which we surround ourselves, our ghosts stay with us until we ourselves are ghosts.” The author is a proponent of spirituality, but in a way that may not be expected by some of his readers; Koontz is a devout Catholic and in reality his personal views on the paranormal are more likely to resemble those of a clergyman than a carver of gory and suspenseful stories. Koontz’s background with his sociopath father and the subsequent attempts that the man had made on his life also were likely contributors to the author’s paranormal lexicon.

The long and short of it: people have different views on the paranormal. Some embrace it fully and like to imagine themselves painted into the pages of some illustrious and terrible tale of demons or zombies or things with long teeth and short tempers. Some see the hope of otherworldly existences as a comfort to their own mortality; while others like to listen, let their imaginations run rampant, and fall asleep with one eye opened just wide enough to let their night lights give them comfort.

To me the question of whether or not the paranormal is real is irrelevant. It is all based on personal and cultural perception, and whether we like it or not, the dark and terrible is here to stay. And it is a part of us.

Until next time horror fans!