I killed someone this year. Well, two someone’s really, but neither was my fault. I know what you’re going to say, I didn’t have to. But I did. It’s been hard enough establishing one writing career, let alone three. And so, with regret, I ended the lives of my pseudonyms, Homer Clark and Samantha Quick.
Freeing myself from the burden of maintaining two extra Twitter and Facebook accounts has provided me valuable insight to my writing career. Homer helped me connect with a part of me I’ve long suppressed, gnawing at my insides like the undead. Together we wrote a short piece entitled LEFT OUT, currently being rewritten. Some of you know I’ve been down the road of online serials before. Samantha offered me that freedom once again by helping to create new playing fields I could escape to when needed. This resulted in three ongoing novelette series (all to continue in 2014).
Through both pseudonyms, I discovered a renewed love for writing. No, let me take that back. It isn’t that I ever fell out of love with writing; it was that it had become a job rich in rejection. I needed to own it, all of it, the good, the bad, the ugly. And these two pen names provided clarity to this notion.
My year began with struggle brought on by the passing of my father (January 6th). From there my grief festered and grew, until I started to doubt myself. I’m thankful for the horror community, as several colleagues encouraged me onward. By the time it was halfway through the year, it had been less than productive, and I often felt lost.
That changed somewhat when I read an article John Boden wrote in Shock Totem issue #7 regarding his father’s passing. It’s one of those stories that once finished, you have to go back and read it again. Granted, I have a unique connection to the article, but I believe anyone who has ever lost someone could relate to John’s words. When I told John how much I enjoyed the article, he shared that he’d questioned himself, whether there were ideas he should have added or cut. I’d thought the article flawless, but found a parallel in his uncertainty; that I, too, often question myself. Even when people compliment my work, there is always some form of doubt.
The time had come to refocus my writing. I’d already taken back and owned the work of my pseudonyms. Now, the time had come to own myself. It’s something I’ve long avoided for reasons I don’t fully know. Why put so much pressure on myself to become the next Stephen King or any of a hundred other incredible authors. I don’t have to become any of those writers because all I truly desire is to become the first Kenneth W. Cain.
At that time, I put aside the novels I’d been working on and invested the entire second half of the year on improving my short game. As we near the end of 2013, I have two-dozen or so short stories left to finish up rewrites on (including all of These Old Tales). This process has seen some stories abandoned in a virtual folder. I’m proud of what I’ve done these last few months, and I can feel the growth in my prose. The payoff is I’ve started to make shortlists and receive personal notes back from editors on my rejections. And there have been a few acceptances even.
But my work doesn’t end there. I’m by no means satisfied with what I’ve achieved thus far. In 2014, I plan to dive back into one of my novel projects and in all probability will write several new short stories. I see things about my writing I want to change. It isn’t enough to sit back on my laurels and be content with a static writing career. It has to go somewhere, and the only direction plausible is upward.
Best of luck to all of you in 2014,
Kenneth W. Cain
