2012 was a tumultuous one in our house. In addition to losing both of our Labrador retrievers within five months of each other, I also lost one of my dearest friends, Mark Braun, in a motorcycle crash in the spring. With the exception of an essay for Sharp magazine about the horrors of summer heat, I more or less put my writing to the side.
When the heart isn't in it—and mine was broken—what comes out is usually nothing worth reading. While writer's block is a stock-in-trade joke for non-writers, or for the very lucky writers who never experience it, it's no joy when experienced, especially when it's connected to great loss.
All of that said, I'm back in the saddle again, so to speak, so please bookmark Forever October again, if you haven't been patiently waiting almost twelve months to read the thoughts of Yours Truly.
My second novel Wild Fell is coming out in November 2013, and I'm already booked for my signing in Winnipeg that month. I'll be writing more about that book, and that process, and the writing life, in the weeks to come. Next year, Enter, Night is coming out in German from Random House. Very exciting for me, my first foreign book translation.
In a couple of weeks, I'll be heading to the World Horror Convention in New Orleans, a city I haven't yet visited, and one of the few southern cities in the United States I'd willingly brave June humidity
to visit. I'm looking forward to connecting with new friends, and reconnecting with old ones. More on that in the weeks to come as well.
Tonight, the rain is rushing down from the sky like a waterfall. I'm home from the book launch for The Empty Room by Lauren B. Davis, a great friend and a great writer, in the company of my great friends and editors Brett Savory and Sandra Kasturi of ChiZine Publications, my publishers. Last week, I hosted a party here at the house in honour of Benjamin Percy, author of the werewolf novel Red Moon, which is positioned to be the thriller of the summer. The moral of the story being, if you can't always write, at least hang around writing friends. A gin and tonic never wrote a book for you, but it certainly takes the edge off a great deal.
