Heckfest 2024
Inktobers 2022 and 2023 were formative, but as I continued to ignore more and more of the rules, I started to wonder why I'd consigned myself to following any of them. I still dutifully completed the prompts, but something was missing. This year, I've decided that it was time to strike out on my own and do something that really harnesses my passion for the season without any other stipulations.
True to form, I started thinking about this very early. Like May early. I began by cobbling together my own set of one word prompts to get the ideas flowing and jotting down some general ideas for each of them. Later, around August or so, I came back and refined the list. Wouldn't you know, this ended up doubling the number of concepts, so now I've got 2025 blocked out as well!
I took another social media hiatus for the month of September, intent on getting in some quality writing time. For the last several months, I've been doing research and timeline iterations for my highly-revised King Tide story. It's now almost completely different, but what it isn't is written. Spec-work is a world apart from good ole fashioned fictional narratives, so as I sat down to begin the Heckfest writing process, I quickly realized that I really didn't need more haikus under my belt. Counting the syllables was a fun (and often challenging) convention, but I was really just inserting line breaks into regular sentences. Instead, what I needed was more scene work practice, more dialogue, and more novelty. While I really love the Short Story work I published last year, I'd be lying if I said they weren't the product of a few years of off-and-on work and an agonizing amount of editing.
What would it mean for me to write more, faster? Can I get past my first-try perfectionism complex and put together new stories that aren't years in the making? I think so, but not without some degree of discipline and practice. So, in that spirit, I've taken an "excerpt" or micro-fiction approach to this year's spooky season repertoire.
Unlike in years past, which have been orchestrated largely through Instagram, I'm going to lean on my portfolio site to do the hosting this time around. Below, you'll find the links to all the stories written for this year, many of which would exceed the caption limit on a single Instagram post anyway. Some of pieces here are short and sweet. Some of them go on longer and had me building out larger worlds that maybe I'll come back and explore further one day.
Consider this set of pages a workbook of exercises in what it'll take to execute on larger scale projects down the line. Each of them is a step toward breaking out of the video editing corner I've been stuck in professionally. It feels a bit insane to pivot into the heavily saturated space of fantasy literature and creative direction. Jack Nicholson in "The Shining" crazy, perhaps. It's scary, too....a la my (perfect) Shelly Duvall impression. Whether I wind up frozen in the maze of it all or driving a snowcat to the credits, only time will tell. But let it be known that I swung a few axes and flailed around with a kitchen knife valiantly in the process.
Heckfest 2024 Projects
Some of these sound like I'm describing craft beers or episodes of a show on the CW.
This one's not actually fiction. It's why Halloween and this time of year is so special to me and family.
A short exploration of mortality and what it means to slip away.
Cinda's anxious about leaving Fircrest, but finds comfort in a coterie of other witches who're preparing for journeys of their own. Inspired by Studio Ghibli's "Kiki's Delivery Service."
Our pets demand all sorts of things from us, but a wizard's familiar knows it has additional leverage.
Medusa meets her match--not in the shine of a polished shield, but in the eyes of her would-be victim.
The continuation/conclusion of 2022 and 2023's "Kind" and "Rise" poems featuring happy-go-lucky skeleton, Benson Bones and his former necromancer master, Varghast, as the while away the afterlife together.
Almira has eyes all over town.