Hello, my
little storm clouds!
Wow, the
past two days have been absolutely incredible and I have to tell you, I think I’m
still in shock. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to go to Stokercon this year because my job at the
time didn’t approve my time off, so I stayed home and worked on a short story
for Dark Fuse, read some
poetry, and worked for a bit that Saturday, all the while trying not to think
about all the fun I was missing and all the people I didn’t get to hug or see.
But because
you all are awesome, so many of you touched base with me and kept me in the
loop the entire time and I can’t thank you enough. It meant the world to me.
Special shout out to Jennifer Bares, John Edward Lawson, Maria Alexander, Matt
Betts, and Mike Arnzen!
Poetry is
usually first on the docket, so it’s always an adrenaline rush. For the past
three years, I’ve
sat there shaking, my stomach in knots, my whiskey waiting in front of me, and honestly, it’s one of the best feelings in the world. I can’t tell you how much writing poetry means to me and the fact that you (or someone else out there) is reading what I write is a high like no other. It’s actually pretty funny because when I was talking to my dad yesterday—who was practically in tears over the news—we were both laughing about dark little emo Stephanie who used to lock herself in her room when she was growing up and read and write for hours all day and never let anyone read her work. I’ve pretty much been like this my entire life, my head always somewhere in a book, and it’s insane for me to think that I made it to the awards ceremony in Long Beach, California (well, in spirit anyways), and was now waiting to see if they announced my name. I was sitting at home in my pajamas, my hair in a messy bun with my mediation stone in hand, Dennis and Apollo right next to me. When they called my name, it didn’t register. I didn’t breathe. Dennis hugged me and kept shaking me and saying I won but I couldn’t believe it. By the time Jennifer made it on stage, I was sobbing uncontrollably and my god, it was the best, most overwhelming feeling I have every experienced. Her words made my heart smile and the applause that followed, in addition to all the excitement and support that lit up my phone for the next two days was absolutely incredible.
Like I
said, it truly will be a night that I will never, ever forget.
Writing Brothel
was so important to me and for lots of reasons. When I first got the idea for
it, I was thinking about Women in Horror Month (February) and how it’s still
crazy to me that we have to have such a thing because there are TONS of female
writers doing beautiful, dark, amazing things out there. I wanted to write a
poetry collection that celebrated women, that tackled themes of sexuality,
death, orgasm, violence, and the female nude in a way that isn’t typically
celebrated. In horror, we’re so used to seeing the woman as womb, as victim,
and here in the brothel, I wanted to show strong female characters: hunters,
warriors, protectors, sisters. I wanted to reverse the roles and stereotype and
shed light on the ladies who are just as vicious as the next.
Brothel was my love note to women in
horror, and the fact that it brought me and Raw Dog Screaming Press home a Bram
Stoker Award feels great. Raw Dog Screaming Press has been such a pioneer of
diversity in the horror industry for the past twelve years by focusing on race,
sexuality, and gender equality and equal opportunity publishing, and I’m so
happy to be working with them and with everything their press stands for.
I want to
thank you all again for your support, your readership, but most importantly,
your friendship. You all inspire me and make the long hours, the research, and
the writing struggles worth it. I feel blessed to have you all by side, and I
look forward to giving you my next muse, Jolene, later on this year with my new
collection, Sheet Music to My Acoustic
Nightmare, coming out in October from Raw Dog Screaming Press.
Here’s a
sneak peek about what they’re saying:
Wytovich binds wrists with her muse using a chunky chain, and
together they spin in circles, hoisting poetic knifes in a fight to the death.
You might think you know what you're getting into with this collection of
haunted road trips, erotic regrets and dangerous, devious desires, especially
if you've read Wyto's other books of poetry. But this Acoustic Nightmare feels
far more personal and profound than her earlier dark works, and you can tell
she's riffing off the influences of her favorite writers -- from Charles
Bukowski to Sylvia Plath, Jack Keroac to Anne Sexton to Edgar Allan Poe -- all
of them also tied up tight, immersed in the muse she does battle with in this
book. All the horror is still here -- how could it not be, in a collection by
one of our darkest dreamers? -- but all that spooky gloom and spunky gore is
just the basal layer underpinning a larger canvas of skin that she is
tattooing, bruising, caressing, slicing and squeezing during this fascinating
battle with her muse. The glorious outcome of this knife fight is not the
obvious denouement of death, nor the escape her narrator seeks solace in, but
the complicated and frightening ballet of blades one makes with death along
their life journey. As a reader, you're actively pulled into the weird
seduction of her suicidal sway. Enjoy every step. Her muse might just be you....
-- Michael Arnzen, Bram Stoker Award-winning poet, and author of Grave Markings
-- Michael Arnzen, Bram Stoker Award-winning poet, and author of Grave Markings
With Kisses and Knives,
Stephanie M. Wytovich
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