Category: Fiction (Page 1 of 6)

My Upcoming Book Schedule

April 1, 2024 / Kyle A. Massa

As you may or may not be aware, I recently released a (sort of) new book called Past, Present, Future. I’ve also got another, Remembering the End, arriving later this year. But those aren’t the only books coming to a shelf near you.

Today’s the perfect day to reveal all the books I’m working on. Let the hype-train commence its chugging.

The Woman with the Wine Glass

To capitalize on the trend of book club books about alcoholic shut-ins, I’m writing a twisty mystery about Lilith, an alcoholic shut-in.

One night while staring out the window and guzzling some Barefoot-brand white zinfandel, Lilith witnesses a heinous crime: Her neighbor beating her husband to death using a mini baseball bat from the Cooperstown Baseball Hall of Fame.

But did Lilith truly see what she thinks she saw, or was it a hallucination brought on by her wine-induced stupor? Not sure. I’ll let you know when I figure it out.

Expected release date: ASAP, since this literary fad should go the way of the vampire any day now.

Gerald Barkley Rocks: Kyle’s Version

(Cover originally designed by Nathan Rumsey and here modified by the author.)

Re-releasing a previously released album? That’s a Taylor Swift special. I haven’t dropped an album of my own (yet), so I suppose I’ll settle for my books.

The thing is, my first novel, Gerald Barkley Rocks, was already an independent release, meaning there’s no distributor to break free from. So, my plan is to copy and paste my book’s text into a new file, then slap “Kyle’s Version” on the cover and call it a day. Hopefully, my psychotic cult of fans will buy millions of copies so I can continue flying my private jet to the far reaches of the earth.

Expected release date: You’ll find out during the Grammys.

Spon Con: The Book

If you enjoy commercials during podcasts or the #ad hashtag, you’ll love this book. From cover to cover, it’s all product placements.

What for? Whatever you’ll pay me for. I’m opening this one up to advertisers, especially the ones who cold email me with no knowledge of who I am or what I do. I’m aiming for 300 pages, and every page is its own advertisement—the more garish, the better. Get your spot while they last.

Expected release date: April 2025, or whenever I accumulate enough money to buy an Alpha Black Lotus.

So Done with Airports: An Anti-Flyer’s Manifesto

Perhaps the most personal book I’ve ever written, this mad ranting is the perfect distillation of my hatred for the airline industry. I cover everything from security to bag policies to seat size. There’s even a chapter on how best to silently seethe while your seat-neighbor spreads over the armrest like a blob of molasses.

Expected release date: October 2025.

ChristmaTyranny: A Tale of Revolution & Retribution

Deep in the frozen wastes of the North Pole, Boss Santa rules as unquestioned god-king over his subjects. Christmas trees stand as monuments to his splendor, exhausted reindeer haul his chariot across the eternal night sky, and the vicious Gingerbread Mobsters serve as enforcers of his orthodoxy.

Under the sugar-laced thumb of this toy-making empire lies Bupkis, a lowly quality assurance elf who’s so bland and forgettable he must wear a nametag, despite working the same job all his life.

Yet when an underground insurgency force recruits Bupkis to overthrow Boss Santa’s corrupt regime, the elf’s true loyalties are put to the test. Is he really just the company man he appears to be, or is Bupkis deceiving both sides—and perhaps even himself?

One part spy thriller, one part heist adventure, and all parts festive, ChristmaTyranny is the gift that keeps on giving plot twists, right until the bittersweet end. Hailed as “anti-plutocracy ideology meets Elf,” there’s no better book to add to your stocking this holiday season.

Ho ho has gotta go.

Expected release date: Christmas 2025, of course.

Say Nothing & Complain About It Later: A Practical Guide to Passive-Aggression in the Workplace

Most business books offer suggestions on improving one’s corporate image, but instead of zigging, I’m zagging. Mine is all about letting the hate flow through you.

Angered by coworkers always leaving the water cooler empty? Annoyed by the inane chatter happening right outside your cubicle? Distressed by the state of the bathrooms? This book will help turn your simmer into a boil, making you the most passive-aggressive person in the office since Angela Martin. It even comes with a handy supplementary workbook containing future employment suggestions for after you’ve been fired.

Expected release date: Look, I’m working on it, alright? I’ll have an update by EOD.

Ceaseless Hype: A Memoir of My Dog

For those who’ve never met her, my dog Osi is a hyperactive four-year-old English Springer Spaniel who writes under the pen name “Psychopup.” Of course, no one ever believes she’s four, because she acts more like she’s four months. And now, I’m co-authoring a book with her.

It’s a slow process. Every time I try to schedule writing sessions, Osi’s eating, napping, or running wind sprints in the backyard. Plus, like many dogs, she has no fingers, so I’ll be doing all the typing.

Expected release date: Woof. (That’s a direct quote from Osi.)

Get Your Wallets Ready

These books are coming soon to online retailers near you—except ChristmaTyranny. I’ve just received word that Santa is suing me for libel, so that one’s on hold. Maybe I’ll write a book about the proceedings.

P.S. Happy Aprils Fools’ Day.

Kyle A. Massa is a comedy author of some sort living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife, their daughter, and three wild animals. His published works include five books, along with several short stories, essays, and poems. When he’s not writing, he enjoys reading, running, and drinking coffee.

“If Pages Could Blush”: The Story Behind the Story

December 19, 2022 / Kyle A. Massa

If Pages Could Blush

This story began in my car. Well, it technically began with an anthology. But not the anthology you’ll read it in.

You know what? Let’s back up a bit. There’s a story behind every story, and today, I’d like to tell you the tale of my latest.

It’s Called “If Pages Could Blush”

…And it appears in Unidentified Funny Objects 9, an anthology edited by Alex Shvartsman. We’ve also got stories from Jane Espenson, Lavie Tidhar, and Simon R. Green, amongst many other talented writers.

My story takes place in a library where the books are sentient. One of those books—the infamous Necronomicon—escapes from its section, no doubt for nefarious purposes. Now it’s up to Augustus Fluff, bumbling librarian’s apprentice, to apprehend the escapee.

How It Started

As I mentioned, “If Pages Could Blush” (we’ll call it “IPCB” from now on) began with an anthology. The theme? Send a story about books.

I had a few ideas. I drafted a tale where someone procures a forbidden book from an underground bookshop, then another about a book that transports readers to an alternate world (literally). After my usual trial-and-error cycle, I settled on a concept I liked: A book gets loose in a library.

The First Draft

Here’s the part about writing the story in my car. In the fall of 2021, during my work commute (shoutout to Special Olympics New York), I decided I’d do something besides listen to Limited Resources.

In the writer world, you hear legends of people who pen 4 or 5k words per day using the magic of dictation. Being the copycat that I am, I tried the same, starting with my escaped-book story. Here’s the first line of my first draft:

“A book was missing.”

Not the most riveting stuff. Also, according to my Google Doc, I began writing on October 14 at 8:35am, meaning I was late to work. For shame!

Things got better from there. My main character was a librarian who owned his own set of sentient books. When one escaped, he went on a quest to find it. However, as I wrote, the librarian became increasingly incompetent. His adventure took on a farcical tone because he was so flustered about the whole situation. So, I morphed my MC into an apprentice rather than a master.

Subsequent Drafts

In my next version, the Master Librarian established the rules of the world in the first scene (yes, she’s known as “The Master Librarian,” even in the final draft). My new main character, the Master Librarian’s bumbling apprentice, was named Augustus Gulp. I liked the name because it was contradictory: “Augustus” is an emperor’s title, yet “gulp” is the sound you make when you’re in trouble.

However, my writers’ group caught something. The name sounded awfully similar to Augustus Gloop, that gluttonous ginger kid from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Not a bad association, but not one I wanted, either. After a few days’ deliberation, “Gulp” became “Fluff.”

At the suggestion of both Sara and my writers’ group, I cut the opening scene with the Master Librarian, preferring instead to launch directly into the story. I tightened said story, too, adding references to my favorite books and clarifying the trail of clues leading to the denouement. The deadline for the anthology was January 31, 2022. I worked diligently to hit it.

(When I say “diligently,” I mean squeezing it in between games of Magic: The Gathering and reading sessions of Shakespeare’s Othello, which Goodreads tells me I was reading at the time. Justice for Desdemona.)

Anywho, eventually I finished “If Pages Could Blush”—or at least finished it enough to submit.

The Anthology

I use a handy little site called Duotrope to track my writing submissions. That’s how I know that, on January 31, 2022, I sent “IPCB” to the anthology. On March 24, I received a response that can be summed up in two words:

No thanks.

That one hurt. I’m used to rejections, as evidenced by my 115 submissions since 2013, with a rejection percentage of 85.8. Like baseball, a high-failure rate is part of the game.

Yet this proverbial strikeout stung more than the others. Why? Because I’d written the piece specifically for the market. It was like crafting the perfect gift for your Secret Santa, then watching them set it ablaze with a flamethrower.

Okay, that was melodramatic. But still, it was a bummer.

Furthermore, I thought “If Pages Could Blush” was pretty darn good. The concept was fun, the mystery felt satisfying to me, and early readers seemed to find it amusing. So what was wrong with it?

Nothing? Everything? The answers in art are never that clear.

A Brief Aside

You may not know this, but I once volunteered as a first reader for Grimdark Magazine. In that role, I read stuff.

…And then offered thoughtful feedback to the editor. But really, the position was well-named, because it was all reading.

Most of what I read was strong, yet little of it made the final mag. Why? Limited space in the issue. Topic too similar to previous stories. Elements that didn’t align with our theme.

In other words, there’s more to publishing than quality. Not to say quality isn’t the most important factor in any artistic endeavor—it’s just that those other, less visible details matter, too.

This is a long way of rationalizing my rejection. It’s how I convinced myself to continue submitting.

The Next Few Months

In May, I sent “IPCB” to three pro-paying markets. I received a one-day rejection, a 38-day rejection, and a shortlisting. Feeling encouraged by that last one, I submitted my story for the fifth (and, as it would turn out) final time.

I’d never read Unidentified Funny Objects before, but I’d heard of it. It’s one of the few pro-paying humorous fantasy/sci-fi markets around (professional payment being defined by Duotrope as “5 US cents per word and up”). UFO has also published stories by two of my literary heroes, Neil Gaiman and George R.R. Martin, so that was a definite draw.

Three days later, I received notice that “IPCB” was being held for final consideration. And, on September 24, 2022, my story was accepted.

Provisionally. (Dun dun DUN!)

The Edits

Alex Shvartsman, the aforementioned series editor, responded with the news. He said he’d be happy to accept my story, provided we agree on some changes.

To preserve editorial integrity, I won’t disclose those changes. (I’m new to this, so I’m honestly unsure if sharing would be considered tacky.) Suffice it to say there were four suggestions, and they all improved the piece.

After those edits came a round of copy edits, then signing the contract in blood (JK, it was a BIC). Then, finally, “If Pages Could Blush” became an official inclusion in UFO9. You can read a copy yourself.

The Takeaways

Prior to this, I’d only ever sold a single short story; those of you who’ve read Monsters at Dusk will remember it. It’s called “Thespian: A Tale of Tragedy and Redemption in Three Acts,” and Allegory gave me a cool $20 for it.

I don’t write for money. Yet still, someday I want to make a living off this writing thing. And earning 20 times what I had before? That felt pretty good.

Go Catch Your Copy Before It Escapes!

If you’ve made it this far, then why not read the story this entire story’s been about? Go grab your copy of Unidentified Funny Objects 9 on Kindle or paperback! I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

Kyle A. Massa is a comic fantasy author living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife, their daughter, and three wild animals. His published works include three books and several short stories. When he’s not writing, he enjoys reading, running, and drinking coffee.

I’m Joining NaNoWriMo 2022

November 1, 2022 / Kyle A. Massa

I succeeded once, failed once, and now I’ll be doing one or the other again. NaNoWriMo, here I come!

That stands for National Novel Writing Month, by the way. It begins today and ends when November does. My mission: To write a 50,000-word manuscript in 30 days.

Last Time

Last time I tried NaNoWriMo was 2019. That was the failure.

…Well, I shouldn’t say that. I got about 45k into the book, then quit when I felt it wasn’t working. That was Short Contracts, a book about a sports league in a fantasy setting (not to be confused with fantasy sports). I plan to return to it when the time is right.

I also tried NaNoWriMo in 2017. That was the success. I wrote what Stephen King would call a trunk novel, which is one of those books you finish but save for later. It’s called Upstate and a While Back. Someday I’ll reveal it from the trunk.

The experience was fun but grueling, especially in the latter half of November. 50k words is all about consistency and planning, as I remember, so we’ll see if I’m up to the task.

This Time

This month, I’ll be working on a story called Remembering the End: A Novel of Novel Apocalypse Stories. Think Canterbury Tales, except it’s about worlds ending. Cheery, right?

Honestly, I hope so. I’ve already got a head start on one character’s story, and it’s turned out fairly comic (like most of my stuff). I anticipate the rest to be the same—though I’ve only got vague ideas for them. And when I say vague, I mean super vague. Like, the ending of Mulholland Drive vague.

Anyhoo, I’ll be tracking my progress on this here chart:

NaNoWriMo Progress

Yes, that is Magic: The Gathering artwork in the background. I use it in my MTG articles, but I like the cats, so I’m using it again here.

The Distractions

Over the past year I’ve recalibrated my writing strategy to be less about word count (in fact, I wrote an article all about it). For NaNoWriMo, I’ve got to readjust. Gonna be a challenge for sure.

Also, November is going to be a busy month. Here are some of the non-writing activities I’m doing:

November 11: Playing in my first Magic: The Gathering tournament since 2018.
November 12: Being a raging fan at the Cortaca Jug game at Yankee Stadium. Go Bombers!
November 15: The new Magic set releases online. Always a major distraction.
November 24: Thanksgiving. (And my beloved New York Giants are playing the hated Dallas Cowboys.)

Oh yeah, and I still have to work and stuff. Doesn’t seem like much, but when you’re writing 50,000 words in 30 days, you can’t really afford to take time off.

Will I Succeed?

Reply hazy, ask again later. But here’s what I can promise: I’ll be checking in with you throughout the month. Here’s the schedule…

November 1: This blog post.
November 7: Email newsletter.
November 14: Another blog post.
November 21: Another email.
December 5: An email and blog post summing it all up.

If you want to follow along as I slowly descend into madness, feel free to subscribe to my newsletter below. Wish me luck!

Two Truths and a Lie, “Eggs for the Ageless” Style

June 5, 2022 / Kyle A. Massa

Two Truths and a Lie with Eggs for the Ageless

Remember “two truths and a lie,” that game you play at summer camp and/or college orientation? Now you can play it with Eggs for the Ageless!

The game is simple. In honor of a dozen eggs, I’ve got a dozen statements for you, each with three possible answers. Two are true, and one is false. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to identify the lies. Just click your pick, then click “Submit,” and the answer will appear.

Hope you learn a little more about the book and have some fun along the way. Without further ado…

Hope you had fun! As mentioned, Eggs for the Ageless is available on ebook, paperback, and hardcover. Grab your copy today!

“Eggs” by the Numbers

May 23, 2022 / Kyle A. Massa

At long last, my new book, Eggs for the Ageless, in on sale. To celebrate, I crafted a fun little infographic to share some stats behind the book. Hope you enjoy it!

Eggs for the Ageless

Get your copy of Eggs for the Ageless!

This Mother’s Day, Meet the Moms of “Eggs for the Ageless”

May 8, 2022 / Kyle A. Massa

Art by Casey Gerber

Hey reader, Happy Mother’s Day!

Today, I’d like to introduce you to the moms from my upcoming book, Eggs for the Ageless. They may not have Mother’s Day where they’re from, but we’ll celebrate nonetheless. Here we go!

Sarene, Traveling Holy Devoted

Sarene is our main character Egg’s mother. She’s a Holy Devoted of the Ageless, which is similar to a nun. She’s super into it.

In fact, Sarene’s zeal for religion drives a wedge between herself and her daughter. Their conflict mirrors the overarching conflict in the novel itself.

What does Sarene look like? Let’s take it from the text:

She was stern and severe with a heron’s build and differently colored eyes: one brown, one blue. Her head was shaven, revealing a smooth scalp with a halo of runic tattoos—12 of them, each representing one of the Dozen Gods and Goddesses.

And here are a few random quotes from Sarene that should give you a sense of her personality:

“Live your life as long as it lasts, Zeggara,” said her mother, passing the manuscript across the desk. She patted her daughter’s hand. “And do some good with the life you’re given.”

“Do you believe [your father is] truly gone, Zeggara?” [Sarene] seemed genuinely curious. “When a person dies, do you believe all that comes after is…nothingness?”

“I…I don’t know.” Egg wished she had a better answer.

“I don’t believe it. I refuse to believe it. So I chose to believe in the Ageless instead. I believe in another life, a happier one. I believe I’ll hug your father again. You will, too, after your Devotion.”

Sarene is one of the most dynamic characters in the novel, and therefore one of the most challenging to write. No spoilers, but she plays an antagonistic role in the first act, appears rarely in the second, then takes a leading role in the third. In basketball terms, she’s got a variable usage rate.

Fun fact: Sarene was absent from this story’s first draft. Only when I rewrote it two years ago did I create her, and I’m glad I did. She serves an essential role of generating religious tension for our main character.

Sturnella, Sadly Deceased

Sturnella is wife to Rulf (vicious tyrant) and mother to Rulf Junior (not-at-all-vicious heir to the empire). She’s already died when our story begins but, spoiler alert, she makes a brief cameo. Perhaps in a flashback, perhaps in a dream, or perhaps some other way. Hmm…

Anyhoo, enough cryptic clues. Here’s what Sturnella looks like:

[Sturnella] appeared to be about Egg’s mother’s age, though she had far more hair: Long auburn locks knotted into patterns a weaver might envy. Her dress was equally impressive, purple cloth and golden lace, with a fringe of hanging gems that chimed when she moved.

I won’t give away any more Sturnella quotes, lest I ruin the surprise. Here’s what I will say: Her name comes from a genus of “North American grassland birds called meadowlarks.” I found that on Wikipedia, so it must be true.

Giving Sturnella the proper presence was challenging. As mentioned, she only gets one scene, so I needed to make that scene memorable. Not sure I achieved that, so you’ll have to let me know.

Lira, Goddess of Order

If Lira was played by an actress, it would be Judi Dench. In other words, she’s a hardass. For example, here’s an exchange between her son, Rismo, and her son’s buddy, Trast:

“On a scale from one to 10,” Rismo asked aloud, “how mad is she going to be?”

“Knowing your mother,” Trast answered, “I think that scale’s too small.”

As you can see, Lira is not the most forgiving mom. Nor is she especially nurturing, understanding, or reassuring. However, she is efficient and meticulous, and she knows how to run a world. Just take this mini monologue:

“This is not the first world my soon-to-be-former husband and I founded. There was another, less successful world. One without rules and repercussions.”

“But Mother,” said Rismo. “You love rules and repercussions.”

“There’s a reason for that. This prototype world was your father’s idea. He wanted a land of boundless creation, a place where imagination and reality were one. All he wanted to do was create. ‘Let the chef cook’—I believe that’s the expression he used.

“But this world of Flor’s didn’t function. Without gravity to tether its people, they came unstuck from the ground and floated off into nowhere. Without time to mark their days, lives passed in the span of a sentence—or never ended. Without death, people suffered hunger and thirst and crippling old age, yet never found relief or rest. The prototype failed. Do you understand why?”

“Because Flor should’ve written from an outline?” Trast tried.

“Because creation needs order. Because every action causes a reaction. Because laws must be made and upheld.”

Well, at least now you can see why she’s such a stickler for the rules.

So there you have it. You’ve met the moms of Eggs for the Ageless. If you’d like to read more about them, feel free to buy the book, which releases eight days from today on May 16.

Finally, I’d like to wish a happy Mother’s Day to my mom, stepmom, mother-in-law, aunts, sister-in-law, cousins, and friends. And a special Mother’s Day wish goes to my wife, because this is her very first Mother’s Day as a mom. Enjoy your day, Sara!

Kyle A. Massa is a comic fantasy author living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife, their daughter, and three wild animals. His published works include two books and several short stories. When he’s not writing, he enjoys reading, running, and drinking coffee.

Another Sneak Peek at “Eggs for the Ageless”

April 11, 2022 / Kyle A. Massa

Eggs for the Ageless

Eggs and deserts might be a strange match—except in the world of Eggs for the Ageless.

This all-new comic fantasy novel arrives May 16, 2022. In the meantime, I’ve got to blog about something. So, I’d love to share a chapter of the book with you.

A live version of this excerpt is available here. However, if you’d rather not hear me repeat the word “umm” several times, you’ll prefer the written version below. Anyhoo, without further ado, here’s Chapter Two of Eggs for the Ageless, entitled “A Meeting of (Most of) the Dozen.” Hope you enjoy it!

Lira, Goddess of Order, cleared her throat. “Your father and I have an announcement to make.”

“An important announcement,” her husband clarified.

Lira shot him a venomous look. She wore her long hair tied neatly into a spiraling braid which hung over one shoulder. Her forehead contained a vein that had been throbbing for several thousand years or so, and never more vigorously than during family meetings. Like this one.

She noticed her husband’s throne was not quite aligned with hers; a hair of a degree off, by her estimation (which was of course perfectly accurate). So Lira snapped her fingers. Her husband’s throne jerked into place.

Her husband’s name was Florinioniorius. He was a plump god adorned in a robe of starlight and boots of midnight. A beret spun from strands of dream was stuffed over his curly mop of dark hair. He was called God of Life, Creator of Creation, Author of It All, and many other bombastic self-appointed titles nobody used but him. Most just called him God of Creation.

Florinioniorius’s eyes changed color depending on his mood. As they narrowed on his wife, they turned red. But when his gaze swept over their children standing before them, his eyes turned a vibrant orange. He scooted his throne back where it had been, then stroked the silver quill tucked behind his ear. It was the quill he’d used to create everything.

Lira and Florinioniorius (we’ll call him “Flor” from now on, to save paper) had hundreds of children, all of them Ageless. Among those hundreds, the first 10 were known as the Dozen (with Lira and Flor making 12). And of those 10, eight were in attendance. Those eight children presently stood in a half-arc around their parents. Above them hung the crystalline dome of the Council Chambers, and above that a dome of purple clouds that kept out the oppressive sun. Far below awaited the realm of the mortals (where Egg and her mother lived). The Ageless called it “Downstairs.”

Lira and Flor were human-shaped. Among their eight attending children, some were and some weren’t. One, for example, had a cluster of eyeballs in place of a head. Another sported three pairs of feathery wings and was now combing them with a brush. Another had a tiny, cone-shaped head atop a hulking, angular body. The most humanoid among the children was a curvy woman with red hair, red robes, and red ruby rings, one of which she twisted around her finger. Her name was Laléna, and she was Goddess of Love.

“Mother?” Laléna asked. “Father? Is everything alright? What sort of announcement is this?”

“Let me guess,” said a god whose bod was composed of swords, spears, daggers, and all manner of pointy objects. “There’s a fight brewing. Am I right? Sweet, I knew it. I’ll gather a host and meet you Downstairs.”

“No, War,” Lira answered. “No fighting.”

The God of War, who’d given himself the imaginative name “War,” peered down sullenly at his shoes. They were made of razor blades.

A Goddess with hair composed of kelp and tanned skin verging on orange spoke next. “I’ve got a guess. We’re installing a new beach down there, aren’t we?”

“Good guess, Idos,” said Flor, winking one orange eye. “But no new beaches needed. Maybe another time, m’dear.”

Idos, Goddess of the Sea, peered down sullenly at her shoes. They were flip-flops.

“Is this a recognition banquet in my honor?” asked a goddess with green skin of a bark-like texture, along with several toadstools sprouting from her cheek. Two crows sat on her shoulders, and a monkey sat on her head. “Or a good-natured roast? Perhaps a surprise party?”

“No, Grimgrumble,” Lira sighed. “It isn’t even your birthday.”

Grimgrumble, Goddess of the Wilds, peered down sullenly at her shoes—or would have, if she ever wore any.

“We have summoned you all here today,” Lira practically shouted, vein pounding in her forehead, “because your father and I have an announcement to make. We need to tell you that—”

“Ahem,” said Flor.

Lira glared at him. “What?”

“Nothing. It’s just…who’s telling them? Me or you?”

“I was about to. Then you interrupted me.”

“That wasn’t interrupting, that was me clearing my throat.”

“My ass. I know what it was, it was—”

“Mother,” Laléna interjected. “Father. We just want to know why you summoned us here. From either of you.”

The world’s original power couple glowered at each other for what seemed like eons. Finally, Flor waved a hand in concession. Lira nodded.

“Your father and I,” she boomed, “are getting a divorce.”

Silence. That’s what came next. Complete, awed, disbelieving silence. Ten whole seconds of it, during which existence itself seemed to hold its breath. (Who knows? Maybe it did.)

One god finally broke that silence: The one with three sets of feathery wings. Windbag was his name, and he was God of Air. He raised his wings along with his hand.

“Divorce?” he asked. “What does that word mean again?”

Mountain, God of Earth, who had the cone-shaped head and the angular body, whispered the correct answer. He had to whisper, otherwise he’d cause an earthquake. Unfortunately, he whispered so quietly that no one heard him.

So War, God of War, ventured a guess instead. “Divorce is a breed of dog, Windbag, you dummy. Mom and Dad are getting us a puppy.”

“Nope,” said a goddess who had hitherto been silent. She wore muddy boots and a big hat with a tall yellow feather in it. Faraway was her name, and she was Goddess of Travels. “Not a dog. Divorce is a term coined by the mortals. Means Mother and Father are splitting up.”

“That’s correct, m’dear,” Flor confirmed. “Your mother and I are parting. We’ve had enough of each other. And frankly, enough of this world. I created it, yes, but I yearn for a new project.” He patted the silver quill tucked behind his ear. “I’d hate to be remembered as an author with only one book.”

“You created this world,” Lira snorted. “But I kept it going. The whole damn time.”

Flor’s eyes turned red again, though he managed to unstick them from his wife (soon to be ex). He smiled at his children. “We’re leaving two essential posts empty: Mine, as God of Creation, and your mother’s, as Goddess of Order. Therefore, we’re conducting tryouts for our replacements.”

Lira glared at her husband (soon to be ex, also). “We agreed to call them interviews. Not tryouts.”

“‘Interview’ sounds so stodgy. Tryouts are fun! Besides, why do you care so much?”

“Father,” interjected Laléna, ever the voice of reason. “Mother. Let’s back up a moment. Is divorce really the answer? Can’t love find a way?”

“No!” snapped Lira and Flor simultaneously. It was perhaps the first time they’d agreed on anything in several millennia.

The god with the head made of eyeballs spoke next—or would have, had all those eyeballs left any room for a mouth. Instead, he wrote a message on a scrap of parchment, then passed it to Laléna, who read it aloud. She said: “Infinity wants to know when the interviews are being held.” (Infinity, by the way, was the God of Knowledge.)

“Soon,” answered Flor, at the same time Lira said, “Immediately.” They exchanged several dirty looks, then Lira continued.

“We shall consider all of you gathered here today, as well as your sister Coda, who’s working right now and couldn’t attend. We would’ve considered your brother Hylus, too, but…” She trailed off, cleared her throat, took a moment to gather herself. “Any other questions?”

Several divine hands shot up. Lira massaged the vein in her forehead. “We’ll make appointments with each of you individually.”

“Thanks for coming, m’dears and m’boys,” said Flor. “Good luck at your tryouts!”

That was their cue to leave. And so, they did. Another happy reunion for the world’s original dysfunctional family.

My Most Embarrassing Writing Fails

January 26, 2022 / Kyle A. Massa

Bad Writing

My grandparents on my dad’s side were famous for never wasting anything. This is not a statement of hyperbole.

For instance, instead of killing dandelions in her yard, my grandmother served them as salad toppers. Also, my grandfather once removed every rusty nail from every board of a dismantled shed, then stored the nails in buckets in the basement for future use.

See? Nothing wasted.

I take after them in this respect, though my waste refusal has nothing to do with dandelions or rusty nails. Mine is all about writing.

I can’t discard my writing. No matter how bad it is, no matter how unreadable, I can’t write anything without using it somehow. So, this blog post is all about my lousiest work. I could (probably should) throw it out, but instead I’m sharing it with you. Hope you get a kick out of it—and maybe a few helpful tips along the way.

Pages of the Mirror

This pretentiously artsy script was my senior thesis project at Ithaca College in 2014. This was back when I feared nobody would take me seriously if I wrote comedy, so the resulting piece is emo, dull, and ultimately lousy.

Pages of the Mirror is about some dude named Danny who lives in a small town and is beloved by everyone, for some reason. When his equally beloved Uncle Jack (car mechanic with tattoos who listens to Metallica, of course) gets murdered, Danny becomes the prime suspect.

Plus, there’s an intertwined story of a mysterious fellow mysteriously named “The Writer” who’s working on a mysterious book and who continues to be generally mysterious, because I decided all this mystery would be intriguing. We soon discover this is a story within a story; the Writer is writing about Danny.

At the time, I thought this was clever. Looking back, the connection between the two stories was probably immediately obvious. Plus, it’s a classically egomaniacal story for a writer to write. (What if my writing became so good it came to life!?) I recall pulling an all-nighter the night before it was due, which is probably why I only got a B. But look at me now—I got blog content out of it.

My takeaway from this project: When you’re developing your voice, you might strike a few sour notes. Just clear your throat and keep singing.

“Apocalypse Now…or Never”

It’s hard to believe, but I’ve been writing on this here blog now for 10 years. If you explore my archives, you’ll find some bad writing. Perhaps the worst was my first ever blog post, entitled “Apocalypse Now…or Never.”

The title isn’t terrible; it’s the rest that’s ugly. Just check out this leadoff sentence:

“I’m having a hard time buying this ‘2012: World is Going to End’ crap.”

I wrote this sentence when I was 19, yet it makes me sound like I’m 60. Also, I’m pretty sure the punctuation is incorrect.

Things don’t improve from there. My intro paragraph is a block of text, and I somehow venture into a rant about Ozzy Osbourne possibly being a zombie. I don’t even address my anti-apocalypse stance until paragraph eight, and when I finally get to it, I use a funfetti cake as a metaphor.

If you want to read just how bad this blog post was, you can find it here. My takeaway: Writing gets better with age. I’m not some premier blogger, but this blog is certainly better than it was a decade ago. Second takeaway: I was right about the world not ending in 2012. Yay me.

Pleasant Street

This is another college project, though Pleasant Street was a short story, not a script. It’s so bad that I’ve actually written about it before. Not sure this is something I should brag about, but here goes…

This story has it all: A doofus protagonist, heavy-handed symbolism, clumsy language, geriatric cannibals. What more could you ask for?

Well, if you’re asking for competent plotting, compelling characters, or an interesting setting, look elsewhere. Pleasant Street is about a first-time cop named Officer Green (I warned you about the heavy-handedness) who’s assigned to walk the beat in a neighborhood called Pleasant Street. See? Because it’s called Pleasant Street, you’d never expect anything bad might happen. Brilliant misdirection.

As it happens, the residents of Pleasant Street have achieved eternal life via cannibalism. (I partially lifted this idea from an episode of The X-Files, so my apologies to Mulder and Scully.) Rather predictably, the story concludes with the main character being cooked and eaten. I would’ve offered a spoiler warning, but no one will ever read this story again—I’ve made sure of it.

As for the grade on this assignment, I don’t recall it. Perhaps my mind is repressing it to defend me. But here’s what I do remember: I never collected feedback on this piece. If I did, maybe someone might’ve told me it needed work. So that’s our takeaway for this story. Get feedback from people you trust, then use it if it works.

“10 Bold Predictions for the Future of Magic: The Gathering”

Yes, I know most readers will not care about Magic, let alone understand it. If you were to browse this article, you’d find such esoteric phrases as “enemy fetch lands,” “two-block paradigm,” and “Kaseto comes along in the new Commander product.”

However, I’m including this article because of my low success rate on these so-called bold predictions. To be clear, the writing is actually passable; I had some decent wisecracks, including a dig at Jar-Jar Binks (timeless). The issue is, I only got five of my 10 predictions right!

I won’t bore you with the details. I’ll just say this: We must deliver on our promises to our readers—especially when the promise is right in the title.

“Someday”

I’ve saved the worst for last. You think my poetry is bad now? Just check out this poem from May 5th, 2011, for a creative writing class at Ithaca College.

“Someday soon,
We’ll touch the moon.
Ride the stars to the sun.
Someday soon,
We will commune.
And then we shall be one.”

This is weird pseudo-hippy crap that sounds like something you’d cringe at if you heard someone singing it with an acoustic on the campus quad. And it’s only an excerpt! I feel like I should apologize to you for forcing you to read it. I’m sorry.

The lesson learned here is clear: Don’t F with poetry. Bad poetry is more offensive than bad prose. My poetry is still pretty bad, but at least I’m reading and studying the craft before I write more. And I’m definitely not trying to rhyme.

Summing It All Up

I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again here: I think it’s healthy to review your old work, no matter how nauseated it makes you feel. I may not be a great writer, but at least I’m better than I used to be. And sometimes, that reminder is all we need.

(P.S. I hope I made my grandparents proud. Waste not, want not!)

Voice of the Monsters: An Interview with Darren Roebuck

December 23, 2021 / Kyle A. Massa

Monsters at Dusk Audiobook

Start spreadin’ the news. Monsters at Dusk is now alive on audiobook!

To celebrate the big release, I interviewed the book’s narrator, Darren Roebuck. He’s a talented, funny, and interesting guy—but don’t take my word for it. Read the interview below! You’ll find my questions in italics and Darren’s answers in regular text. Enjoy!

…

Welcome, Darren! Thanks for stopping by.

Thanks for having me, Kyle!

How did you get into the field of voice acting?

Looking back, I think it started when I was about seven, and I got into an argument with my mom as to whether or not Bugs Bunny was a real person. I was staunchly supporting the fact that he was real, and my mom said no, he’s a cartoon character voiced by Mel Blanc. The next day, I saw Mel Blanc’s credit on a cartoon and thought, “Wow, he has the coolest job!” I promptly forgot about it for a number of years, and then later as a teenager I became interested in music and audio recording.

Eventually as an adult, I bought a house and built a studio in the basement. Then, randomly, I met a woman playing the game “Words With Friends” on the phone and she mentioned that she was a DJ at a pirate radio station. She agreed to do a live interview with me and a bandmate, and at some point during the show I made a comment about how I wanted my own show. The producer was standing there, and right on the spot gave me a Saturday morning slot.

I did that show for about a year and a half (unwittingly getting some valuable mic time in) when some other friends mentioned web sites where I could get VO work. Since I already had a studio, I thought why not give it a go? I started getting booked right away, and within a couple of years I started doing it full-time. It’s my dream job, and I believe that it found me as much as I found it.

Very cool. In addition to audiobooks, you’ve done voiceover work for video games, commercials, radio, and more. How does your approach differ for different mediums? Or does it?

I look at it all like it’s character acting. My process of finding a character voice for any particular project is pretty much the same no matter the genre. There are different physical demands across genres, however. If I have a video game or animation session coming up, I’ll treat that like I’m getting ready for a sporting event with plenty of sleep, proper food, and hydration before hand. Audiobooks are similar. Both require a lot of stamina. Commercial reads or a typical day of auditions really just require a good vocal warm up session and that’s about it.

What’s your process for developing character voices?

Of course, gender, age, and location make a lot of choices for you right off the bat. Typically, though, I read the script and see what pops into my head naturally without thinking about it, especially for lead characters. After that, I try to give secondary characters the opposite pitch of the main characters. If one character is high pitch, I’ll make the other one lower. I also tend to make lead characters a bit more down to earth, and secondary characters a bit wackier.

I see you made some big additions to your recording booth last summer. How has it changed your business?

It’s helped in a few ways. The audio is better due to it being much quieter in there. It looks better on zoom calls, which is really important these days. It’s also more purpose-built than my last recording space, so I just like to be in there more. It’s really become a sort of safe space where I can really cut loose.

I’m sure that’s important, especially in the early stages of recording. So, what made you want to work on Monsters at Dusk (aside from the cold hard cash)?

Pretty much just the cash. Haha!

Actually, when Abby Thymes said, “Dear Satan,” in the beginning of the first story, I was sold. I glanced through a few more stories, and seeing the humor and the interesting array of characters, I knew it would be a fun project.

Glad you enjoyed it! During our collaboration, you mentioned that Americans do notoriously lousy British accents. Any other voiceover in-jokes we should know?

I think the biggest one is the random person that upon finding out I’m a voice actor says, “My friends say I have a great voice. Can you get me voiceover work?” This is so common that it’s truly a cliche amongst voice actors.

Yikes, that sounds awkward. I read on your website that you toured the U.S. and Europe as a lighting designer for a band. Any fun stories from the road come to mind?

Certainly, but I’m not sure I can tell them here. Haha!!!

Actually, I toured with one band that liked to make little video skits during down time. We were in a cavernous club in Milwaukee just after sound check when the club was quiet. The lead singer asked if I would play a role that was supposed to be a kind of stressed out dream sequence. He had me walking around all of the back stage rooms and hallways shouting, “Where is everybody!? Where is everybody!!!?”

I did this four or five times total, and after the first one or two the local crew guys started poking their heads in the room asking if I needed anything. I politely said no, then went on to the next “Where is everybody!?”

The crew guys poked their heads in again asking if everything was okay, and if they could do anything for me. Once again I smiled and said everything was fine. “Where is everyboddyyyy!!!!?”

The guy pops his head in again saying, “We’re right here!” Turns out, they didn’t realize that we were making a movie, and they thought I was upset with them for not being around when I needed them. They must have really thought I was off my meds!

Hah, that’s great! You definitely had dedication to the bit. I understand you were also a radio DJ for a year-and-a-half. What was that experience like?

I had just left a 12-year career and didn’t really know what I was doing with my life at the time, so it was kind of like therapy for me. It was pirate radio so I could do literally anything I wanted. I got to play all of my favorite music and talk about what ever came to mind. I’d have guests on a lot. My mom would even call in on occasion and I would play our conversations on the air. It was a lot of fun.

Shoutout to Darren’s mom. Since you’re a musician, who are some of your favorite recording artists?

I’ve always been a Zappa fan. Of course, Led Zeppelin, The Beatles, and Pink Floyd were all masters in the studio, and their recordings are still some of my favorites to listen to in headphones. My very favorites, though, are the Funk Brothers from Motown, The Swampers from Fame Studios, and the Wrecking Crew from L.A. They were all responsible for hundreds of #1 hits, and most of the top recordings for a couple of generations. They also did most of their recordings live in the studio as a complete group, and not relying on individual tracking. True masters.

Excellent. And now for our final question…what story from Monsters at Dusk did you have the most fun narrating?

Tough question. I can’t pick just one. “Several Letters from Abby to God” was really fun. I mean, I got to play God, Satan, a little girl, a demon cat, and Jesus all in the same story! That’s what acting dreams are made of. At least mine, anyway. Not to mention the format of the story with all of the letters made for some rich comedy. I laughed a lot recording that one.

My other favorite was “The Megrim.” It was a challenge. Coming up with a voice for a large warrior woman that I could sustain for a long time was not easy. Then there were so many characters, and the setting was fictional, so I couldn’t rely on regional accents to differentiate the characters. Then there was the wide range of emotions to portray. It was tough to put it all together in one cohesive unit, and I really felt good about the final result.

…

Thanks so much, Darren! If you want to hear his incredible work, grab your copy of Monsters at Dusk on audiobook today!

Darren Roebuck is a voice actor, audio producer, and musician residing in Colorado. Learn more about Darren and his work on his website, www.djrvoiceover.com.

Some Things I Learned on My Tour Through Westeros

November 17, 2021 / Kyle A. Massa

Westeros Header

I recently re-read the entirety of George R.R. Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire.

…Do you still say “re-read” if you listened on audiobook? We’ll pretend the answer’s yes. Shoutout to late great narrator Roy Dotrice.

Anyhoo, now that I’m back from my tour, I thought I’d share some words of wisdom for those planning a similar visit. Consider this a long-form TripAdvisor review, only with fewer typos (hopefully).

People are super judgmental about parentage

In Westeros, if both your parents aren’t members of the one percent, odds are someone will call you “lowborn.” And if mom and dad weren’t married at the time of your birth, you might even be labeled “bastard,” which is only marginally better than, say, “accident.”

Seriously, people sling birth-related insults like mashed potatoes in a cafeteria food fight. Just ask Jon Snow, Mya Stone, or Gendry what’s-his-name. There’s even a guy named “The Bastard of Godsgrace,” if I remember correctly, which somehow stings even worse. I mean, if I was called the Bastard of Albany, I’d be bummed.

If you receive a wedding invitation, check the “Respectfully Decline” box

I’ve been to three weddings this year and the body count remains at zero (as far as I know). If this was Westeros, I wouldn’t even be alive to write this article. And if you think Westerosi weddings are dangerous, try a Dothraki ceremony. In the words of Illyrio Mopatis:

“A Dothraki wedding without at least three deaths is considered a dull affair.”

If you must attend a wedding, arrive armed and don’t touch the food. And if the DJ starts playing “The Rains of Castamere”—yes, even the remix—run.

Imposters are everywhere

John the Fiddler, Jon Snow, Gryff, Young Gryff, Alayne Stone. Whenever you meet someone in Westeros, I suggest doing a background check, post haste.

George R.R. Martin is more sex crazed than a 14-year-old

Seriously, the guy can’t go five paragraphs without mentioning boobs, brothels, or some variation of the word “fuck.” No wonder HBO wanted the series adaptation.

Don’t be a peasant, because you’ll probably be murdered

Also, people will call you “smallfolk,” which is insulting.

…But don’t be a noble, either

You’ll probably get assassinated by your most ruthless rival, at which point they’ll claim your lands, income, castle, and underwear (presumably).

The safest approach is to become a middle-class working joe. Not that Westeros has a middle class, mind you.

Anyway, whatever your job is, it’s going to be horrible

Whether it’s the lifetime vow of celibacy for the Kingsguard or the lousy food of the Night’s Watch, every job in Westeros is kinda unappealing. Some other examples:

Hedge Knight: This is like being a freelance writer, in that you’ll take any project, so long as somebody pays you—which is never much, by the way. But at least you’re not sleeping under a hedge. Unless you really are sleeping under a hedge, in which case, you should’ve read the job description closer.
Septa/Septon: Meh, this job seems kinda boring—unless you’re the septa shouting, “Shame!” during Cercei’s penitence walk.
Maester: This looks like a desirable profession at first glance, since you just read books and offer unsolicited advice. However, several Maesters have met nasty ends, i.e. Luwin and Kerwin. Plus, Lady Barbrey Dustin made unflattering observations about them: “Isn’t it clever how the maesters go only by one name, even those who had two when they first arrived at the Citadel? That way we cannot know who they truly are or where they come from.” Alright, fine, I suppose that is a little sus. I’m out.
Whore: No thank you.
Hand of the King: Similar to the Vice President, minus the potential for biopics. Plus, the last few Hands have gotten caught in the proverbial wood chipper. A brief list:
- Jon Arryn: Poisoned by his psycho wife.
- Ned Stark: Imprisoned, framed, and beheaded.
- Tyrion Lannister: Nearly decapitated in a botched assassination attempt, then subsequently fired. Technically acting Hand of the King at the time, but still…
- Tywin Lannister: Shot in the bowels by his son whilst pooping.
- Harys Swyft: I don’t remember this guy and I’m sure you don’t either.
- Orton Merryweather: Hired because his wife was frienemies with the Queen Regent.
- Mace Tyrell: Hired to forestall the end of a hopelessly fraying alliance. Also a doofus.

I’d rather work in customer service than any of these jobs, which is really saying something.

Keep a dream journal

This is a must since dreams are so often prophetic. Sure, you’ll stress over portents and symbols and whatnot, but you’ll have an advantage over those who don’t bother. Take this dream from The Ghost of High Heart as an example:

“I dreamt a wolf howling in the rain, but no one heard his grief. I dreamt such a clangor I thought my head might burst, drums and horns and pipes and screams, but the saddest sound was the little bells.”

Though she never made it to the show, she totally dreamt of the Red Wedding before it happened. Alas, nobody in Westeros enjoys Freudian dream interpretation.

At least the food’s good

They may not have GrubHub in Westeros, but who needs it when you’ve got options like this?

“They began with a broth of crab and monkfish, and cold egg lime soup as well. Then came quails in honey, a saddle of lamb, goose livers drowned in wine, buttered parsnips, and suckling pig.”

“There were loaves of crusty bread still warm from the ovens, crocks of fresh-churned butter, honey from the septry’s hives, and a thick stew of crabs, mussels, and at least three different kinds of fish.”

“They started with a creamy chestnut soup, crusty hot bread, and greens dressed with apples and pine nuts. Then came lamprey pie, honeyed ham, buttered carrots, white beans and bacon, and roast swan stuffed with mushrooms and oysters.”

Fortunately, they don’t have Tapas restaurants. Now please excuse me while I go raid my pantry.

In Conclusion

I hope these notes have enlightened you regarding Westerosi culture. If not, I wouldn’t recommend traveling there anytime soon.

…Unless you’re arriving via book, that is. In that case, visit as often as you like. I know I will.

Kyle A. Massa is a fantasy author living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife, their daughter, and three wild animals. His published works include two books and several short stories. When he’s not writing, he enjoys reading, running, and drinking coffee.

Thanks to this Gizmodo article for collecting the meal descriptions.