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  • ONE DAY IN LATE MARCH, WHILE WORKING AT MY TEMP JOB, I received a call from my editor at St. Martin's Press with the news that my novel, The Suicide Collectors, had been nominated for a Bram Stoker Award. He went on to tell me that there would be an Academy Award-like ceremony in Burbank, California in mid-June, where the winners would be announced. Bram Stoker Awards (or "Stokers," if you're a hip librarian) are given out by the Horror Writer's Association (the H.W.A.); they're the equivalent o…
  • AS A NOVELIST, I SPEND MOST OF MY TIME ALONE, haunting my apartment in Midway like some kind of keyboard-clacking ghost. That's not to say I don't try to get out some -- I work various temp jobs during the year, and I'm currently teaching a slipstream fiction class at The Loft Literary Center. Even so, I'd have to say the majority of my time is spent staring at a computer screen, typing away in a comfortable silence broken only by the occasional rustling of my cat. So, when my friend and Minneap…
  • MY THIRD BOOK WAS SUPPOSED TO BE MY SELLOUT NOVEL. Oh man, it was going to be great: a dark YA fantasy about a young girl who’d been kidnapped and the three plucky youngsters who venture out across a dangerous world to rescue her. My two previous novels (The Suicide Collectors and Wormwood, Nevada), both published by the well-established St. Martin’s Press, had been a little too multi-genre for the traditional publishing model and their sales had suffered for it, despite mostly great reviews…