Can I tell you how hard it is for me to do open mic events? Seriously. What makes it funny though is that I read a story at the World Horror Con in NYC in front of strangers, peers, and famous writer-folk and managed not to faint but I STILL get all discombobulated when I… Continue reading Open Psyche
Category: Bloggy
The Secrets of Agents, Man…
Take the title as a bit of a lie, because it is. Brother, if I had some rune stone that told the secrets of agents, well, this would be a much more popular blog and I wouldn't be wearing various cheeses as hats. For real. No, what prompts this blog is the utter ridiculousness of… Continue reading The Secrets of Agents, Man…
Riding the Hobby Writer Horse
For some reason lately I have felt sorta lonely, as a writer, and have wanted to feel more connected to that community. Specifically the horror writing community, seeing as I like to write creepy stories and all. Now, I won't necessarily say I am a 'horror' writer but being that it sounds sorta silly to… Continue reading Riding the Hobby Writer Horse
As the dusky leaves do fall…
PS - I have no idea what the hell dusky leaves are but, dammit, it sounds all, you know, writerly. Like it seems to make sense. Sorta. PPS - You shouldn't begin the post with the end, but, you know, I just saved you from sitting through the credits. So, yeah, you're welcome. It has… Continue reading As the dusky leaves do fall…
Words, I Writes 'Em
I know, I know, it seems like I am not really posting an stories on here and, well, ok, I am not. It isn't because I am not writing but because the stuff I have written is for an event so i can't post them yet. Maybe I can find something. Hmm... Anyway, I am… Continue reading Words, I Writes 'Em
Garden of Stone 2 – My Return To Tyrone Sunken Gardens
I already gave a brief idea in a previous post about what Tyrone Sunken Gardens is like so I'll spare you other than to say - imagine a wheel, with a white stone as its center, then with spokes of paving stones going out to four points. At the north and south are gates, if… Continue reading Garden of Stone 2 – My Return To Tyrone Sunken Gardens
The places that I go…
This is a totally random amalgamation of images of the places around where I live and of a painting I did last week. There's no real meaning other than I was out and about and taking pictures of things that intrigued me. That's the fun of being a hobby photographer - I don't have to… Continue reading The places that I go…
Inspiration and Blockage
I can't help but feel blessed to be able to say that, of the great many issues and challenges I have faced as a writer, writer's block hasn't been one of them. Oh, sure, I have moments where I freeze up, where I don't know what I want to write but, for me, it's more… Continue reading Inspiration and Blockage
The Garden of Stone – My Trip To Tyrone Sunken Gardens
Near where I grew up and lived for some twenty seven years is a cemetery that is pretty much like a thousand other cemeteries around the United States. There are manicured lawns, headstones for the lost beloved, and the sense of absence or loss that always hangs about these places. If you find it though,… Continue reading The Garden of Stone – My Trip To Tyrone Sunken Gardens
Con Artist
It's a peculiar thing indeed to find yourself sitting behind a table selling things you worked on, put your heart into, and are now hoping that someone is going to validate you by buying something. What a weird damned sorta thing that is. It's a thin line to walk, the line between commerce and art,… Continue reading Con Artist
Horror Anonymous
Ladies and gentleman, I write horror stories. I can tell from the hush in the crowd that I have offended some of you, and for that I apologize. It shouldn't have taken me this long to offend you. I need to try harder. Truly. It's strange, this tag system we have as humans, where we… Continue reading Horror Anonymous
Weapon
WEAPON My body is a weapon, a breathing, bleeding, seething thing waiting to be freed. My body is a weapon, sucking life from me; my body is a weapon, its beauty mine to see. My body is a weapon, a promise yet fulfilled; this body is a weapon, with many more to kill. In me… Continue reading Weapon
The Lightning People – story
The day changed. Changed in a matter of moments, seconds, the sun being eaten alive by a rolling mass of clouds that stained the sky and changed day to night. The day was stolen and replaced by night’s grim façade but the two girls, like night and day themselves, are ignorant to what is happening… Continue reading The Lightning People – story
The Spooky World of Chris Ringler 