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My Takeaways from NaNoWriMo

December 9, 2019 / Kyle A. Massa

I lost NaNoWriMo.

But don’t feel bad for me—it was a loss by forfeit. And, odd as it may sound, I think it was the right decision.

To recap, I was working on a project entitled Short Contracts. It’s a book about a professional athlete who has underperformed thus far in his career and is trying to start fresh on a new team. The wrinkle is, he plays an invented sport in an epic fantasy world.

I still love the concept. I still love this character, whose name is Four-Leaf, by the way. But while writing Short Contracts for NaNoWriMo, I realized a couple things. First off, this isn’t the story I’m meant to be writing right now. Second, I need to stick to my process.

First point’s first. I did extensive outlining for this story (I’ve found I need these more and more, at least to get started). I had clear answers to who, what, when, where, and why. And yet, as is often the case, things changed when I started writing.

This manuscript was unruly. It didn’t do what I wanted it to do. Though I knew my general story arc, individual chapters seemed to meander on and on without settling on a point. And some characters (the coach of Four-Leaf’s new team being the best example) I simply didn’t know well enough to write. In fact, most of my character work felt uncertain, even for Four-Leaf.

For example, if you read my post from the beginning of last month, you’ll remember that Four-Leaf used to be a female character. As I wrote, I decided to switch her gender and alter her conflict. Four-Leaf’s head coach, a dude named Harp, also swapped genders. I wrote about 20k words with four point-of-view characters, then started over and scaled down to just these two.

As you can see, I had no idea what I was doing. It felt like walking up a downward escalator: so much work to get nowhere.

Now that’s all understandable for the first few thousand words of a manuscript. You often need time to meet your characters, get a feel for what they do and say. But the moment of revelation never seemed to come, no matter how many words I wrote.

That I suppose I could take. But the worst part of it was this: I wasn’t having fun. I didn’t like these characters because they simply weren’t coming together, no matter how many words I packed in. After about Day 20, I thought, Why do this if it’s not bringing me joy?

The pace of NaNoWriMo didn’t help, either. When writing a manuscript, it’s important for me to read what I’ve written throughout the process. This helps me keep characters and plots consistent while also reminding me that even though it’s a first draft, I’ve done some decent work. By trying to cram 50k words into a month, I didn’t have time for that. All I had time for was new words. No time to edit, no time to reflect on what I’d written.

So I stopped. I realized that Short Contracts is not the book I’m meant to write right now. I moved on.

All told, I ended the month at just north of 40k. Of course, 50k is just a benchmark and not really the point of the month. The point is just to write. However, I’d set the goal of 50k for myself, so it was disappointing to fall short.

Yet I think I learned a valuable lesson: Sometimes you have a story you want to write, but you’re just not ready to write it. I’m not sure why this is and I’m certain the reason varies, but for me, I hadn’t found the right characters for the world I’d created. I’m sure they’ll introduce themselves some day, or maybe I’ll go track them down. For now, I’m moving on from Short Contracts.

But rest assured, I shall return. I’ll come back to the world of epic fantasy sports. In the meantime, I’m on to a new project. So far, I’m happy to say it’s going much better.

Kyle A. Massa is a speculative fiction author living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife and their two cats. He has written two books and numerous short stories, both published and yet-to-be published. He enjoys unusual narrative structures, multiple POVs, and stories about coffee.

Praise or Honest Feedback: Which Are You Asking For?

December 2, 2019 / Kyle A. Massa

I’ve got a story for you. It goes like this:

The other day, I asked my wife for feedback on my writing. This is not unusual; she always offers great thoughts on how to improve my work. This time, I gave her a piece about a creepy painting (which you yourself can read here).

My wife had a lot of thoughts on the piece. After a while I found myself disputing them. When she said the characters felt flat, I said that was intentional. When she said she wanted something creepier, I argued it was creepy enough.

I stepped away from this experience wondering why I did what I did. If I wanted honest feedback, why then did I disagree with it when I got it?

Here’s my theory: Though I asked for it, honest feedback wasn’t what I was looking for. I actually wanted praise. I wanted someone to tell me my story was good.

The more I think about it, the more I realize this is not all that uncommon. Take members of my writer’s group, for example. Some members have received honest feedback at meetings, then haven’t returned for future meetings. These folks also didn’t write down any of the feedback they received. That makes me think they weren’t actually looking for constructive criticism. They wanted someone to tell them their writing was good.

I think all writers do this to some extent, whether or not we realize it. When we share our work, it’s because we hope others will derive some enjoyment from it. (Otherwise, why share it?) Some part of us wants to hear that our readers like our writing.

So then, is it wrong to seek praise? I don’t think so. For writers, praise is essential. Praise validates what we’re doing. In my aforementioned writer’s group, for example, we always start critiques by stating everything we like about the piece under review. It’s arguably the most important part of the whole process.

If you feel upset when you receive people’s honest feedback, it might be because you’re unconsciously hoping for praise. So when you solicit feedback, be upfront about what you’re looking for, both with the reviewer and yourself. If you want to know what people like about a story, ask them. Don’t ask for honest, constructive criticism unless you really mean it.

And remember: Everyone needs praise, but praise on its own won’t make our writing better. Constructive criticism will. When you’re ready, make sure to ask specifically for both praise and criticism. “What did you like about this piece?” “How do you think I can improve it?”

Whether it’s praise or honest feedback, communicate exactly what you’re looking for. It’ll make you (and your reviewer) much happier.

Kyle A. Massa is a speculative fiction author living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife and their two cats. His stories have appeared in numerous online magazines, including Allegory, Chantwood, and Dark Fire Fiction.

Is All Art Really Quite Useless?

November 25, 2019 / Kyle A. Massa

Oscar Wilde

In the forward to his novel The Picture of Dorian Gray, Oscar Wilde famously wrote, “All art is quite useless.” No question mark at the end.

This statement puzzles me. Why would an artist say art is useless? Did he really believe that? You could interpret this statement as an introduction to the themes later explored in the novel, but I’m not sure I do.

Because when asked by a fan what this famous line meant, Wilde responded with a handwritten letter. In this letter, Wilde posited that art does not and should not inspire action in anyone. If it does, it ceases to be art and instead turns into didacticism. Therefore, if art cannot by its very nature inspire action, then it has no applicable use to anyone.

Oscar Wilde was a brilliant guy. I don’t claim to be smarter than him or a better writer than him. And I’m certainly not a better dresser (see above picture). But I’ll say this: I think art is quite useful.

Art is useful in the way that it moves us. If a work of art can stir emotion, whether it’s delight, sadness, anger, or even disgust, I’d say it’s done something quite significant. After all, if you cried when Bambi’s mom bit the dust (don’t deny it), you cried for a cartoon animal that only ever existed as a series of drawings shown in rapid succession. What else but art has the power to make us care about things that don’t even exist?

Even art that serves merely as distraction, what Wilde describes as “sterile” art, can be useful. Because sometimes we really do need a distraction from reality. When times are tough, it’s cathartic to watch a TV show or read a book—to take a break from what’s going on around us. Art won’t necessarily present us with permanent solutions, but that’s alright. Oftentimes that brief respite gives us the strength we need to face tomorrow’s challenges.

Art helps us better understand each other, which is perhaps one of its most important uses. For example, numerous studies suggest that reading improves empathy. When we step into the minds of characters, their thoughts and feelings are described to us, which bridges a gap we otherwise can’t cross (excluding telepaths). If empathy is understanding how others feel, there’s no better way to develop it than by having those feelings explained to us.

So is all art really quite useless? Well, maybe some of it (the Transformers series of films come to mind). But certainly not all of it. If a particular piece of art moves you, or helps you get through a tough time, or shows you the world from a different perspective, then that piece of art is useful. Quite useful.

Literary Necromancy: Resurrecting Your Dead Manuscript

November 18, 2019 / Kyle A. Massa

Necromancy is generally frowned upon.

People freak out when the White Walkers do it. Sauron took the name “Necromancer” and that seemed to bother some folks. Dr. Frankenstein practiced the art, albeit a bit more scientifically. Even Jesus kind of did it, but he’s Jesus so it’s cool. Otherwise, most would probably tell you that the dead should stay dead.

But what about dead books? I mean those novels that we write, bury, and forget about, the ones that Stephen King calls “trunk novels.” Sometimes we think about them again. Sometimes not.

The question I’d like to answer is this: How can we bring a dead novel back to life? Bust out your Necronomicons, people. We’re about to do some work.

1. Ask Yourself: What has Changed?

Zombie

A simple question, but a necessary one. What’s changed between now and the time you initially wrote your manuscript? Ostensibly, it must’ve been something big.

In my estimation, the best possible answer is that you’ve resolved a plotting issue that had previously held you back. Many novels sputter out and die simply because we can’t figure out what happens next. If we do so posthumously, that’s an excellent reason for a posthumous reexamination.

Alternatively, you might’ve decided that you’re better equipped to tell your story than when you first conceived of it. I’ll give you an example. Referring back to the aforementioned Stephen King (a fan of necromancy himself—cough, Pet Sematary, cough), he’s performed the art with many of his many books. For example, he first conceived of the novel 11/22/63 way back in 1971, even before his first novel was ever published. Yet he decided to bury the idea, resurrecting it only when he found time for the requisite research and developed the literary talent needed for such a book. Same goes for his novel Under the Dome; King first began writing it in 1972, yet let it die. It was reborn again in 1982, then died again. It was reborn a third time in 2009, and that turned out to be its final form.

2. Now Fix It

Now comes the hard part. As the necromancer, it’s your job to remedy the issue that killed your manuscript in the first place.

Sometimes this process comes easy. And since you already performed step one, you have a good idea what needs to change. Concentrate on fixing those elements so that your novel’s reincarnated form is better than its previous one. We want dung beetle to human, not dung beetle to worm.

During the editorial process, you might find that these fixes require huge edits. If you’re willing and able to do the work, this can payoff bigtime. For example, about three years ago I began a manuscript entitled Who the Hell is Julian Strange? May it rest in peace. It was a story about a rock and roll singer named Julian Strange who suddenly and spontaneously returns from death (a novel fitting for this blog post). Moreover, it was about the supporting characters whose lives were changed by this supernatural event. One such character was a self-pitying Los Angeles detective named Gerald Barkley. A man of no particular importance.

Despite a promising beginning, Who the Hell is Julian Strange? died a few months into its life. The characters felt uneven and the plot didn’t seem right. Ultimately, the manuscript itself wasn’t ready for life.

Years later, while searching for something to submit to my writer’s group, I exhumed the corpse of Who the Hell is Julian Strange? Oddly enough, my interest was drawn not to the titular character, but instead to the self-pitying detective, Gerald Barkley. I wanted to know more about this guy. What happened in his life that made him so glum? And, I wondered, could he be redeemed?

The second-coming of my manuscript is entitled Gerald Barkley Rocks. It’s available on ebook, paperback, and hardcover now. Find your copy here.

Anyway, my point is this: let the necromantic process take you where it will. Once you’ve committed to reanimating the corpse of your manuscript, follow the new version wherever it leads you. You’ll find it takes you in all sorts of delightful and unexpected directions.

3. Finish It

I met a zombie once who told me this: “The only thing worse than dying once is dying twice.” The same goes for our manuscripts. Once we commit to necromancy, we should stick with it.

Why? The answer is simple enough. It takes time! You could easily spend that time on a new idea, one that smells better and has fewer maggots crawling all over it. So if you’ve chosen the dead manuscript over a living one, make that time worthwhile. Don’t let your dead ideas die again.

In Conclusion

In some worlds, reviving the dead might be frowned upon. But hey. We’re writers. It’s okay for us to do it, so long as we identify issues, fix them, and finish the process.

You’ve got the skills. Now go do some necromancy.

Let’s Get Ready for NaNoWriMo

November 1, 2019 / Kyle A. Massa

NaNoWriMo

It’s been a full two years since I last participated in National Novel Writing Month. Time to change that.

This year, I’d like to give you a sneak peek at my project. I’ll start with a preview post here, then a halfway mark review around November 15th, then a final roundup post at the end of the month.

Why? First, to shamelessly plug my book in the hopes that you’ll someday buy it. Second, I’m excited about this story and I want to share it with cool readers like you.

Sound good? Let’s begin.

First, What is National Novel Writing Month?

Every November, millions of people across the world set out to write a 50,000-word novel manuscript. Since it’s a bit of a mouthful, most people call it NaNoWriMo. (Always makes me think of “BiMonSciFiCon from The Simpsons.)

If you average it out, that means one needs to write an average of 1,666 words each day to hit the goal. That’s definitely a lot of writing and there’s little wiggle room. It helps to plan ahead, so here’s my plan.

The World

The working title for my book is Short Contracts. I don’t normally dig the “this meets that” plot pitch, but in this case, I’m using it anyway. My book is Moneyball meets The Lord of the Rings. Let’s start with the LOTR elements.

The dark lord figure has been an archetype of epic fantasy ever since Tolkien. It’s usually a character who appears infrequently on the page but whose influence is felt nonetheless. The dark lord wants to conquer the world, usually by means of vast armies. The central purpose of the book is often to defeat this character.

We’ve seen enough dark lords in fantasy to last a lifetime. Sauron, Lord Voldemort, The Crimson King…there’s no shortage of them. Rather than create my own, I’ve instead shifted my focus to the postmodern. More specifically, I’ve always wondered what happens in these worlds after the Dark Lord has been defeated. In the world of Short Contracts, it’s the introduction of professional sports.

Instead of football or soccer or cricket or something (how do you even score that last one?), the sport of this world is called Questing. Questing is a sport meant to carry on and commemorate the legacy of those brave adventurers who defeated the Dark Lord of this world. There were five in the party who defeated him, and so there are five possible positions for players to play.

I actually previewed this world in “A Good Fit in Penbluff City,” a short story from my collection Monsters at Dusk. Here’s a snippet about Questing:

“Questing, for those who don’t know, is a simple game. Ten players on the field, five on each team. Teams vie to score the most points over a 60-minute period (divided into four 15-minute quarters). A team earns 25 points for disarming an opposing player, 50 points for recovering the Hidden Artifact, and 75 points for slaying the Beast. (The Hidden Artifact is a small object that’s, yes, hidden somewhere on, in, or within the field. The Beast differs depending on the field, though they’re all large, nasty, and temperamental.)

“If that sounds like a dangerous sport, it is. Players have heads bumped, bones broken, limbs severed, even lives lost. Fortunately for them, the day’s advanced magical techniques reverse most of these injuries, sometimes even the fatal ones. Sometimes.”

So those are the rules and stakes of the game. It’s a sports drama as told in an epic fantasy setting (with a strong element of humor, of course).

I realize I’m being a bit cagey with the plot, so here it is in greater detail.

The Inspiration

Take a trip back in time with me. The year is 2014. I’m a senior at Ithaca College and I’m enrolled in a course called Advanced Writing for TV. The assignment: write a script for a 60-minute original TV pilot.

The film Moneyball had released just a few years prior. I found a discount DVD of the movie at the Target on Triphammer Road (remember DVDs?) and had been showing the film to friends whenever possible. The idea of a sports film, particularly one that delved into the transactional aspect of sports, was fresh in my mind. So I decided to write a TV show about baseball. I called it Expansion.

The main character of my show was a guy named Buck Foreman, which makes him sound more like a manly 50s actor than a starting pitcher. But pitcher he was; a hard-throwing (and slightly arrogant) southpaw for the New York Yankees.

At least he used to throw hard. We encounter Buck at age 38. He’s losing velocity on his fastball and has therefore become less valuable to the Yankees. Just a few pages into the script, he’s informed that they will not renew his contract.

Buck doesn’t even consider retirement. He believes he can still play, even if the Yankees (and most of the rest of the league) think he can’t. Only one team shows serious interest in him: an expansion team I invented called the Portland Anglers. (An expansion team is any new team added to an established sports league.) The rest of the script follows Buck as he adjusts to his new life with his new team.

I won’t write much more about Expansion. Why? Because you can read the whole thing for free, right here. Hope you enjoy it.

Now you might wonder why I went off on a tangent about a school project from five years ago. That’s because it’s serving as inspiration for the book I’m about to write for NaNoWriMo.

At the time I wrote this script, I honestly believed it was the best writing I’d ever done. The characters fit nicely together, the plot was tight, and it was really fun to write about baseball, a sport I’ve loved watching since my grandfather got me into it (sad Yankees fan here). I’d lamented the fact that I’d likely never become a television showrunner, which therefore meant nobody but my classmates and my teacher would likely ever read the script. I’m glad I get to use it in some capacity now.

The Novel

Short Contracts won’t be about an expansion team (though I could always return to that idea in the future). It’s about a player who’s been unceremoniously dumped by her team. Now she’s forced to adjust to life with a new one.

Our main character’s name is Four-Leaf (not a real name, but it’s the name everyone calls her). Four-Leaf’s Questing career has been defined by disappointment. She was the number one overall pick in her draft class, a local kid, and a great college (or in this world, academy) player. She was considered a can’t-miss prospect.

That made it all the more crushing, for both Four-Leaf and the fans, when she missed. A combination of injuries, poor coaching, and bad luck have ruined her once-promising career, to the point that she’s known as one of the biggest busts of all time. That reputation is solidified just before our book begins, when Four-Leaf makes a horrible error that costs her team a championship title.

So Four-Leaf finds herself on a new team. Just like Buck Foreman, she must adjust to a new city and a new team. The question is, will she become the player everyone thought she could be? That’s what I’ll be writing about this NaNoWriMo.

Parting Plug

If you’re interested in the world of Questing, you can get a sneak peek right this second. Remember that story I mentioned called “A Good Fit in Penbluff City”? It’s available now in my short fiction collection Monsters at Dusk. Check it out. Hope you enjoy it.

Let NaNoWriMo Begin!

I’ll check back about midway through the month with more info on my project. I’ll have updates and maybe even a little excerpt for you. Until next time!

The Similarities of Playing Magic: The Gathering and Writing Fiction

October 7, 2019 / Kyle A. Massa

I’m sure you’ve heard of writing. Question is, have you ever heard of Magic: The Gathering?

Magic is the world’s most popular trading card game (and also its first). Created in 1993 by doctoral student Richard Garfield, the game has millions of players all over the world. Players bring customized decks to the table and battle their cards against one or more opponents.

I like Magic. And I like writing fiction. And the more I do both, the more I realize how similar the two activities truly are. They both feature…

Endless Decision Making

When playing Magic or writing fiction, the player/author makes numerous decisions. In Magic, players start with seven cards in hand, then draw a random one from the top of their deck each turn. As a Magic player, every turn presents new decisions to be made, chiefly which of your cards you should play, and in what order. Your opponent’s decisions will further influence your own.

In writing, your only opponents are time, procrastination, and the occasional cup of coffee spilling on your keyboard. Still, there are plenty of decisions to make, probably even more than when playing Magic. For example: What are your characters going to look and act like? How does the setting influence them? What adjectives should you use to describe your protagonist? What’s your protagonist’s cat’s name (very important)?

Decisions, decisions. In both Magic and writing, they’re everywhere.

Contextual Factors

This is one of the coolest aspects of both Magic and writing: individual components change value based on what’s around them. Let’s start with Magic.

Let’s pretend that Magic cards are game pieces. The power level of pieces in most games are flat and predictable: a pawn advances at most two spaces at a time, and a queen moves as many spaces as she wants in any direction. In no game of chess has a pawn ever been more powerful than a queen.

Magic is a great game (the greatest, in my opinion) because its pieces vary in power level depending on what’s around them. For example, goblins appear frequently in Magic. In some decks, they might be annoying little attackers that don’t contribute very much to the game. However, in decks where they’re surrounded by more goblins, they might suddenly become a lot more powerful.

Everything’s contextual in writing, too! Take genre, for instance. If an author writes a novel about zombies, that author had better be aware of all the other zombie stories that have come before, after, and simultaneously. An author might write the best zombie story ever—yet if it comes out in the same year as ten other really bad zombie stories, it could easily lose value for the audience.

So Many Goddamn Rules

Magic and writing have a heck of a lot of rules. Let’s start with Magic.

In Magic, players strive to bend the rules in ways that are either competitively advantageous or just plain cool. No, this does not mean cheating (though that was certainly an issue in the game’s infancy). It means that players seek ways to combine cards in new ways for amazing results.

For example, consider the cost of cards. Magic is essentially a resource management game: players are allowed to play one land card per turn, and these land cards allow them to play their other cards. The game is designed so that, generally speaking, more powerful cards require more land cards to play. If players can find ways to play expensive cards sooner than usual, they can expect good results.

In writing, there are also tons of rules. Grammar, for instance, dictates how you express your ideas on the page. Then there are the rules of storytelling, which almost always come up when writing fiction.

Of course, as is the case with Magic, the fun part of writing is learning the rules, then breaking them. Fiction usually isn’t that interesting when it follows the template you expect it to follow; it’s often more compelling when the story diverges from established norms.

These are two of my all-time favorite subjects, so I’d better stop myself before I start rambling (if I haven’t already). If you like Magic, you might like writing fiction. If you like writing fiction, you might like Magic. Try ’em both!

Why You Should Be Reading Flash Fiction

September 30, 2019 / Kyle A. Massa

Just like the name implies, flash fiction is short enough to read in an instant. But if you’re not reading it, here’s why you should be.

Opinions vary on what length qualifies as flash fiction. Some markets say 300 words max, some say 500, others say 1,000. Whatever the case may be, flash fiction has to be really short—which is not to say incomplete. Rather, many flash pieces still have the elements of traditional literature (character, plot, conflict, setting), only they’re condensed. Think of them like shorter short stories.

The form has existed for quite a while, though it wasn’t known as “flash fiction” until 1992, when James Thomas, Denise Thomas, and Tom Hazuka published their anthology Flash Fiction: 72 Very Short Stories. Despite the its relative mainstream obscurity, many high-profile authors have written flash fiction, including Kurt Vonnegut, Ray Bradbury, Joyce Carol Oats, Ernest Hemingway, and H.P. Lovecraft.

In many ways, flash fiction bears a strong resemblance to poetry. Some of my favorite flash pieces create a mood or feeling instead of focusing on narrative, just as some poems do. Others feature complete stories with beginnings, middles, and ends. It’s a flexible form, and one I enjoy very much. In fact, I included three flash pieces in my short fiction collection, Monsters at Dusk.

Thanks to the internet, flash fiction’s popularity has only grown. There are numerous online magazines devoted solely to flash fiction, and quite a few popular markets that publish flash from time to time. Just to name a few: Apex Magazine, Beneath Ceaseless Skies, Fantasy & Science Fiction, Flash Fiction Online, and NANO Fiction.

If you’d like to challenge yourself as a writer, flash is a great way to do it. It might sound easy to write 500 words, but when you sit down and think about all the components of a good story, it can be difficult to cram everything in.

Furthermore, with such limited space to work with, your language must be razor sharp. In general, readers are far more forgiving of bland language in long-form narratives. It’s easy to skip a poorly-written section of a novel. But when a piece only lasts about a page or two, that poor writing sticks out like a fly in your drink.

Flash fiction is a unique form which will, in my opinion, only grow in popularity in the future. Word counts are shrinking, attention spans are decreasing, and concision is becoming more and more essential. Try some flash fiction and see if you agree!

Kyle A. Massa is the author of the short fiction collection Monsters at Dusk and the novel Gerald Barkley Rocks. His stories have appeared in numerous online magazines, including Allegory, Chantwood, and Dark Fire Fiction. He lives somewhere in upstate New York with his wife and their two cats.

Looking Back at Your Old Work

September 16, 2019 / Kyle A. Massa

Writing

I was going through some old files the other day when I came across one called “Pleasant Street.” It’s a roughly 2,000 word short story I wrote about six years ago. In fact, it was my first serious attempt at writing a short story.

Which is why I was so afraid to read it again. I think of it sort of like those photos your mom takes of you when you’re a kid and you still have that mushroom haircut. Most of us would rather forget it ever happened.

Let me start by saying this: “Pleasant Street” is worse than a mushroom haircut.

The Synopsis

We begin with our protagonist, Officer Greene. He’s a young, naive, and, as we’ll soon find out, frustratingly stupid, police officer. (Note: Officer Greene is a lame, lame protagonist. And heavy-handed symbolism is going to be a running theme with this one.)

In the first scene, a senior officer explains that Greene will be “walking the beat” along the titular Pleasant Street. Of course, “walk the beat” is a term I picked up from Law & Order. I kind of doubt anyone actually uses it. Anyway, this story is sort of like a B-horror movie. Best not to think too hard about it.

Greene goes door to door to introduce himself to the neighborhood. (Do police officers actually do this? Probably not.) One of the goofier lines from this section: “Pleasant Street was nothing but pleasant.”

Officer Greene meets a guy by the name of Frank Wolf (remember that heavy-handed symbolism I was talking about?), who invites him in for a meal. And Greene, being the hard-working fellow that he is, decides, What the hell? I’ll take an extended lunch break.

Mr. Wolf feeds Greene a stew described as “absolutely delicious,” though we don’t know what’s in it yet. Greene decides it’s time to get back to work, and on the way out, Mr. Wolf says, “…you’d better get going! In this day and age, if you don’t stay on top of your work, you’ll get eaten alive!”

Have you solved the mystery yet? Probably. And there are still about fifteen hundred words to go.

The following day, Greene runs into a homeless fellow by the name of Roger. Roger, whose hair sticks up in two points and makes him look like a “dirty little bunny rabbit,” tells Greene something to the effect of, hey, my friend went missing on this street. Dialogue, dialogue, and then Roger says, “Aright, man. Just watch yer back. There’s somethin’ weird cookin’ on this street.”

At this point, the story actually gains an unintentional element of humor. There are so many hints about what’s happening, yet Greene is too damn stupid to connect the dots.

For Greene’s third day of work, he decides to ask the residents of Pleasant Street if they know anything about this missing homeless dude. He goes to Mr. Wolf first, who rather unexpectedly says, “Have I seen him? Well, sure I have, Officer.”

I’ll say this for myself: I wrote my characters with consistency. Greene is a dope throughout the whole story, so even at this point, he needs an explanation.

Mr. Wolf proudly explains that he’s two-hundred years old, and that he owes his long, prosperous life to his diet. When Greene asks what that diet consists of, Wolf answers cheerily, “Why, human flesh, of course!”

So then Greene pukes all over the floor, and while he’s doing that, Mr. Wolf offers him the classic bad guy choice.

Option A: Join us (or, in this case, eat hobos with us and live forever).
Or, Option B: We kill you.

Greene might be dumb, but at least he has morals. He chooses Option B, at which point Mr. Wolf smacks him upside the head and everything goes black.

In the final scene, Greene awakens in a pot of water. He hears a match light, and then smells something which reminds him of “the smell of burgers his father used to make in the summer.” And then the story ends. Yum.

I think I meant for the ending to be tragic and horrifying. However, most readers would be so frustrated with Greene by this point that they’d probably cook him themselves.

The Takeaways

I’ve gotten better at writing short stories since then. In fact, I just released a short story collection entitled Monsters at Dusk. (No, “Pleasant Street” did not make the cut.) I think Monsters has the best work I’ve done so far. Sure, I might look back at it with shame 10 years from now. But if I do, at least then I’ll know I’ve improved.

Read through some of your old work, just to remind yourself how far you’ve come. When you collect rejections and nothing seems to be working out, you might make the mistake of thinking that you’re not improving.

But you are! Do yourself a favor and read some of your old stuff once in a while. You’ll be amazed at how far you’ve come. And, at the very least, you’ll get some good laughs out of it.

Kyle A. Massa is the author of the short story collection Monsters at Dusk and the novel Gerald Barkley Rocks. His stories have appeared in numerous online magazines, including Allegory, Chantwood, and Dark Fire Fiction. He lives somewhere in upstate New York with his wife and their two cats.

The Stories Behind the Stories of “Monsters at Dusk”

September 9, 2019 / Kyle A. Massa

Stories behind the stories of monsters at dusk

If you follow me anywhere, you’ve probably been blasted with news of Monsters at Dusk. Yep, it’s officially out and available for purchase.

If you’ve already bought the book, thank you. This post will hopefully add to your enjoyment of the stories. If you haven’t yet purchased it, perhaps this post will pique your interest.

Here’s some insider info on each of the 10 stories in Monsters at Dusk. No spoilers for those who haven’t read them just yet.

Several Messages from Abby to God (Regarding Her Cat)

Every weekday morning, I wake up and write. Most days I plan what I’ll write. Some days, I don’t. For the latter, I wander around the page. I discovered this story while wandering one morning.

This story was inspired by a feeling I think many people experience: that of a beloved pet dying. For some, especially children, their favorite dog or cat passing is their first run-in with death. Furthermore, it’s difficult to reconcile belief in a loving God when that God has ostensibly just snatched your best friend away.

That’s where it started, though it changed a lot in the telling. After submitting a completed draft to my writer’s group, my fellow writers asked for a stronger ending. Therefore, I spent a great deal of time refining both the middle and end. I’m hoping I achieved a sense of rising tension feeding into a satisfying conclusion, all without losing the humor the piece carries throughout.

The epistolary style was super fun to write. The short, pithy letters in which characters relay information to one another is modeled after Pierre Choderlos de Laclos’s Dangerous Liaisons. Except instead of feuding nobles, this one’s about God, Satan, a kid, and a cat.

Also, if you read my first book, Gerald Barkley Rocks, you might notice some feline overlaps here and there. Hope I’m not going overboard with the cats…

Unbelievable

“Unbelievable” first appeared in the January 2017 issue of Chantwood Magazine. It began with two characters arguing in a car. The theme (and therefore, the title) only revealed themselves as I wrote.

This spontaneity actually works quite well for the piece, I think. After re-reading it, it feels like the characters get a definite sense of, “What the hell is going on?” And any story where I get to poke fun at skinny jeans is a good story, in my book.

We Remember

This is likely the most personal piece in the collection (and also the most depressing). I tried to imagine what it would be like to lose all memory of my wife. Not fun, but I think it made for a moving story.

The entwined theme of water and memory came from an article I thought I read when I was a kid (though I’ve had trouble finding it since). As I remember, the article’s author posited that memory is actually a liquid chemical within the brain, and that it’s pumped whenever we need to recall anything. When we forget, it’s because that liquid memory has evaporated.

I always thought that was an interesting theory, so I played with it symbolically in “We Remember.” What if there was a monster that lived off those memories? Thankfully, I made up enough water metaphors to fill a 3,000-word story. Hopefully not too many, though.

Large Coffee, Black

If I don’t know what I’m going to write in the morning, I look for inspiration from my surroundings. In the morning, I’m usually surrounded by two things: cats and coffee. I write about the former often enough. Now for the latter.

The monster here is metaphorical. Perhaps it’s our main character, perhaps it’s his obsession, perhaps it’s our titular beverage itself. It might even be love, which is a pleasantly surprising subtheme I stumbled upon somewhere in my later drafts. Whatever it is, I think it’s more fun if I let the reader decide. Your call.

A Good Fit in Penbluff City

As I’m sure you can tell, this story is a smaller slice from a larger pie. I intend on returning to this world, sooner rather than later.

I’ve followed professional sports all my life. The thing I love most about them: stories. Each season brings heroes and villains, ripe conflicts, betrayals, moments of heroism, and victories against the odds. Furthermore, there’s the business aspect, a world which we catch only minor glimpses of here and there. With this story, I’m bringing that business side of sports to epic fantasy.

I don’t normally care for this style of pitch, but I’d describe this world as Moneyball meets The Lord of the Rings. It was fun writing, and I look forward to more of it in the future.

Alice

Funny story behind this one. It was originally entitled “David” and it’s one of the oldest stories in this collection (circa 2014). And, once upon a time, it was also accepted for publication.

This was around 2015. A magazine called Lakeside Circus gave “David” the green light. Yet then several months passed without further updates. I emailed a couple times to check the status, but still no word. Finally, in June, the sad news arrived: Lakeside was closing down permanently.

Next came an odd cycle. I submitted “David” to about seven publications. It was rejected by them all. By then it had been several years since the piece’s initial acceptance, and I was beginning to lose faith in it. As a result, I tinkered with it constantly. I even changed the name to “Alice.” Didn’t help. Nobody wanted to publish it.

Finally, I shelved it. There it sat until this year, when I was digging through my archives for an as-yet unnamed short story collection. I read it again and decided maybe it wasn’t so bad after all. I think I saw a glimmer of what the editors of Lakeside Circus saw in 2015. I hope you see it, too.

Thespian: A Tale of Tragedy and Redemption in Three Acts

This is another reprint, first appearing in the November 2016 issue of Allegory Magazine. It was inspired by a conversation I had with my dad after he saw the Spielberg film The Adventures of Tintin.

Here’s the gist: My dad was blown away by the quality of computer imagery in the film. He theorized that eventually, perhaps in the near future, this technology would improve so much that one could build your own cast and settings completely digitally. If that happened, actors and actresses would go the way of Blockbuster Video. So I decided to write a story about an actor going obsolete.

Another metaphorical take on our theme here. Technology is the monster, at least to our hero Joel. Poor guy.

Virus/Affliction/Condition/Curse

This began with a simple question: How would the American legal system handle werewolves? I know. I probably have too much time on my hands.

Really though, this is one of my favorite stories from the entire collection. It’s heavily inspired by Ted Chiang’s “Liking What You See: A Documentary.” Basically, I wanted a cluster of vignettes collected by a shared theme. In this case, werewolfism.

The fun of this story was discovering the characters in each segment. Some, such as ad executive Giovanni Fressi, were devised long before the actual writing began. Others, like attorney Mandy Stackhouse, developed on the fly. (Mandy is my personal favorite.)

After submitting to my writer’s group, I got a great deal of feedback requesting some thread to tie the mini-stories together. That’s when I added the bookends about the narrator and her connection to her mother. You’ll notice a constant theme of family, with at least one familial reference in each segment.

Wings

This one is the least funny and most outright horrifying one in the collection. It was previously published in the June 2016 edition of Five on the Fifth. It’s what’s classified as “flash fiction” since it’s under 1,000 words.

The challenge with such a short form is telling a complete story. Therefore, I feel one must rely on mystery and implication to really get there. Neither character is named or described significantly. Same goes for setting. Really the questions I want readers to come away with are twofold. First, why would someone do this to someone else? And second, why would anyone agree to it?

The Megrim

The novella of the bunch. It’s influenced by Terry Gilliam’s The Brothers Grimm, starring Heath Ledger and Matt Damon. I only saw the film once and don’t remember liking it overmuch, yet the creepiness of kids disappearing into the woods stuck with me.

I based the dynamic between the two main characters around that of Mulder and Scully in The X-Files (one of my favorite shows ever). One is a believer, the other is a skeptic.

Aside from a few tinkerings with the plot here and there, this one actually developed quite well the first time around. I think that’s because I had a solid grasp on both the main characters, their relationship, and what their roles would be in the story.

That’s All!

Hope you enjoyed learning a little more about the stories of Monsters at Dusk. It’s available now on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Smashwords.

“Monsters at Dusk” Arrives This Friday

September 2, 2019 / Kyle A. Massa

Cover designed by Nathan Rumsey

Well, it’s finally here.

Monsters at Dusk, the short story collection I’ve been working on for the past nine months, is finally releasing this Friday, September 6th.

I don’t know about you, but I don’t like waiting. Therefore, I’ve set up a preorder for the book. It’s available today.

To preorder your copy, simply click this link. Enter your purchase information, then Amazon will send a Kindle ebook copy of Monsters at Dusk straight to you as soon as it’s ready.

Friday’s main release will include versions from Barnes & Noble and Smashwords, plus a paperback edition from Amazon. If you’d prefer one of those, please wait to purchase until Friday.

Next week, I’ll delve deeper into the stories behind the stories of Monsters at Dusk. Until then, hope you enjoy it!

Kyle A. Massa is the author of the novel Gerald Barkley Rocks and the forthcoming short story collection Monsters at Dusk. His stories have appeared in numerous online magazines, including Allegory, Chantwood, and Dark Fire Fiction. He lives somewhere in upstate New York with his wife and their two cats.

Kyle A. Massa