Meet Sudden Denouement Collective Member Samantha Lucero

i did a thing where i answered a questionnaire.

Sudden Denouement Collective

The editors of Sudden Denouement Literary Collective know that our strength is our writers. We hope that you enjoy getting to know them through our new Writer Interview Series.

What name do you write under?
My poetry and short stories are under Samantha Lucero.

In what part of the world do you live?
Super cowboy USA Hot Dog Rocket Ship Number One.

Tell us about yourself. 
According to BuzzFeeds, “What Batman villain are you?” quiz I’m the Joker. Some people just wanna watch the world burn.

 Where do you publish your work?
six red seeds

When did you begin your blog and what motivated you start it?
Few years ago after hoarding short stories, half-finished novels, poems, screenplays, graphic novels, dead bodies, teeth, cat skulls, I decided to create a centralized location to dump it all. Believing that it would function more as a private sanctum and a way to…

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writing (a) novel(s)

i’ve finished writing a novel. a few people have asked advice. i will make another post about what the hell i plan on doing with it, because… i have no idea! i think i’ve decided to go the old-fashioned route and send it to literary agents rather than self-publish (for now), consequently, probably building an even fuller rejection folder.

this post was inspired by an email conversation i’m currently having with n. ian mccarthy. who btw, is awesome.

before you decide to read this post, i need to present a full disclaimer: i have no idea what i’m talking about, and i am not fishing for any advice / personal opinions, although,  advice / personal opinions aren’t necessarily uninvited. i am also not saying that i am any kind of expert, because trust me, i am nothing near an expert at anything. except maybe avoiding conversations in public.

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i somehow forgot to mention.

some time ago, i submitted a horror story for an upcoming halloween anthology taking place in salem. the story’s called ‘let’s kill her‘ and they just accepted it to be published in the book. more details to come. i’ve put an excerpt of it here before, i just don’t want to dig for it. no need to read any further if you’ve already read it before, it’s the same excerpt. also, please tell me to commit to sleeping more.

i am still working on a novel. 30k isn’t a bad word count for how little time i have to truly get into the mood and let go, and just write and write. it’s a slow process. i am waiting to get my rejections from the reviews i’ve submitted to before publishing my poetry book. it’s nothing that anybody hasn’t read on my blog or on sudden denouement  already, perhaps only a few unpublished pieces.

and isn’t it the biggest curse of the creative to find ourselves in stagnate ruts and have no idea how we got there? the stars align for me sometimes, or maybe it’s all ritualistic for me to feel driven. although, i am interrupted often by screaming, or MAMA, MAMA, which doesn’t help my already delicate concentration♡ so much to do, so little time. lately, it seems anything can put me in quicksand. the reason i was so disappointed in the movie a quiet passion, was not only because it royally sucked (my cousin rachel was much, MUCH better, yet strangely has a lower rating? i have a thing for period pieces.)  but because i can relate to the isolation that emily dickinson gladly, and at times perhaps not so gladly, placed herself in. it became a bad habit of mine to isolate myself when i was staying in florida. i’ve moved away from that awful place of course since february, having too much of my genes be comforted by the cold to ever stay where i was so lost in the constant heat. even new orleans isn’t as bad. i could sip absinthe happily in the pirates alley all day and get beignets when my stomach went sour, but i couldn’t wait to breathe somewhere that wasn’t florida. the habit has carried over to where i live now, somewhere that makes some semblance of sense,  but i’m slowly working on it. the only place i really go is the gym, and everyone leaves you alone there. best place ever. i guess i’m a model introvert who can speak to people easily, but prefers peace. not that i get any with twins. especially now that one of them talks. it’s so fucking cute.

anyway, i was getting at admitting that i am nervous as fuck to go to this book release event that’s coming up. the other book i’m in, well, that my poem is in, has a release event. other poets are reading their work live. i already told them i won’t be doing that, but will be very, very happily attending. by happily i mean anxiously, because it’s going to be quite a crowd. so back to the excerpt.

‘let’s kill her’ is a short story about a murder that takes place halloween morning, and is avenged on halloween night.

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she said there’d be moaning

a grief ago, i decided that it would be best to braid myself with a sort of unconnected, and consequently isolated, sensation of detachment from people, places, things. basically all nouns, perhaps even some verbs. an eastern perfect emptiness. the cosmic voice of alan watts soothing me back to sedation. it was more suited to my personality type to become this way. maybe i was too feral. i’ve been told that i was a very willful child. i still am.

here lies a tired blahblahblah.

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