Carey Burns

The sting of a rejection hurts.  I almost wish they left physical scars so we writers could compare past injuries.   I can see two crusty old writers belly up to a bar, exposing flesh.  "See that one?  Yep, got that when I subbed to Tor."  "That one?  pffft.  That's a scratch compared to this one I got from subbing to Cemetery Dance." Anywho, I got a big old sting last night and I pouted and whined and sulked more than I have over anything in a very long time.  I even coined a phrase:  fanken crappenstance.  (it felt right at the time, but now the meaning is elusive)  When I woke up this morning, I was ready to set all of my flash drives on fire and just walk away.  Honestly, I was.  But writing is a drug.  It is a lover.  It's a damn part of me and even if I did walk away I wouldn't get too far before scrounging for a pen and something to write on. We writers are a cursed group.  We're gamblers and charlatans and we enjoy pain.  We must, or we w

So, the last few weeks I have been working pretty much non-stop on my first collection of short stories,.  (pssst...it is called Hair Baby and Other Weird Tales  and I'm shooting for publication in June)  The table of contents is sorted out, the interior looks good, and there's just one last story that needs completion before I hand it to the beta readers.  From the moment I decided to self-publish a collection, I knew what I wanted the cover to look like and spent countless hours messing with a photo of my cat, Zoey.  She's a great gal, that Zoey, but her image isn't very dark nor disturbing.  I mean, look at that smile! So I tried making her white spots black and added red to her eyes, which just eneded badly, especially with that grin of hers.  Luckily, this weekend we were in Le Claire, Iowa and stumbled upon a shop with a dark, brooding black tomcat.  My hubby took a picture of that cat, and ba-dah-bing...it is now the cover!  I'm still fine-tuning it, but

I had my first author event at The Book Mouse over the weekend and had so much fun!  They have a chinchilla named Ernie and a big cat named Sunny that Jill, my illustrator, and I pestered all afternoon.  The staff was awesome and I sold a few books, so the day was a success!  I can't thank them enough for having us. This event was just the kick in the rump I've needed to get back into my bigger writing projects.  I think it will be fabulous to return to The Book Mouse with my very own collection of short stories, just in time for Halloween.  Perhaps Ernie won't hide from me next time?