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Showing posts from April, 2015

World Horror Convention Schedule 2015

The programming for the World Horror Convention went live this weekend and I'm posting my schedule below. There will be a handful of us from  Raw Dog Screaming Press attending as well, so prepare for madness and definite mayhem.  Also, there will be a soft launch for my latest release, An Exorcism of Angels , but in the meantime, the pre-order is live on the RDSP site. Thursday, May 7th 8-9:30 PM     Reading: Horror Poetry Open Mike – INNSMOUTH Moderator: Linda Addison. Various attending authors . Friday, May 8th 3-4 PM           Panel/Reading: Dark Poets Face to Face – R’LYEH Leading poets in the field of dark literature read and discuss their favorite poems by other members on the panel. Audience participation is encouraged. Moderator: Marge Simon. Panelists: G.O. Clark, Sydney Leigh, Alessandro Manzetti, Peter Salomon, Stephanie Wytovich Saturday, May 9th 9-10 AM          Panel: TERRIFYING TROPES: Midmorning Madness: Making Insane Characters Believable – SARNAT

Cover Reveal: An Exorcism of Angels

Today we’re revealing the cover and launching pre-orders for An Exorcism of Angels, my latest poetry collection. Because writing this book saved my life , I'm pledging to donate $1 out of every  pre-order to SAVE: Suicide Awareness Voices of Education. **Pre-order the paperback on 4/23 and receive a $2 discount ** Pre-order the Kindle ebook About the Artist Steven Archer is an artist and musician living near Baltimore, MD. When not recording, DJing, or producing art, he and his wife, author Donna Lynch, tour with their dark electronic rock band Ego Likeness. He has a BFA from the Corcoran School of Art in Washington DC and has shown his work at galleries and other venues throughout the east coast. His work has also been shown internationally in the form of album art and magazine illustrations. He has designed many covers and interior illustrations for Raw Dog Screaming Press as well as written and illustrated an children’s book, Luna Maris , released through their imprint

Poetry as Prayer: A Meditation on Words

I keep a crucifix at my desk; it reminds me that pain and love are synonymous, that nothing worthwhile is easy. I was raised Catholic, and when you’re raised Catholic, you can always count on one thing to rule your life. Nope, not God. Good try though! But in this case, the answer is guilt. As someone who has been going through a crisis of faith over the past few years, not a day goes by when I don’t feel that almighty hand on my shoulder alongside a whisper gently telling me that if I don’t start singing a different tune that I’m going to Hell. But that’s a story for a different blog post. Today, I want to talk to you about prayer. I may have a lot of feelings about life, how I live it, and who I live it with, but one thing that I’ve never wavered from is that I pray every day. What has changed, is how I do it. When I was little, I used to kneel at my bedside every night and say a prayer for every person I loved. I’d often fall asleep with my family’s name on my lips, or a

An Exorcism of Pride: Poetry for the Damned

An Exorcism of Pride by Stephanie M. Wytovich This is an act /Everything you read here is true Right now I’m lying /But I’m being completely honest That I hate myself/ But I like myself better than you, /You, who will never take me alive Because I’m already dead / And I’m the most alive I’ve ever been Alive because I’m breathing / Dead because I committed suicide in your heart I even killed you, too /You just haven’t noticed yet So smile while you can/ Your bones are crying

An Exorcism Warning: I Don't Speak Latin

Love is an exorcism of angels... I wrote the first draft of An Exorcism of Angels in three weeks. That’s 140 poems in 21 days. A lot of people have asked me how that’s even possible, and I truly don’t have a good answer to that other than the book had to happen, and it had to happen fast. Much like Edgar Allan Poe, “I was never really insane except upon occasions when my heart was touched,” and in this instance, my heart wasn’t merely touched. It was possessed.   Hence the exorcism. But since I don’t speak Latin, I decided to speak through poetry instead. What was different this time around, was that not all my demons were fiction.   I don’t pretend to live a perfect life. At best, I’m sinful, and at worst, well, let’s just say there’s probably a seat reserved for me downstairs. Maybe even a pew. Hell, I probably have my own circle if we’re going to be completely honest with each other. But jokes aside, for only being 26 years old, I’ve seen Hell in more ways, shape

AN EXORCISM OF ENVY: POETRY FOR THE DAMNED

AN EXORCISM OF ENVY by Stephanie M. Wytovich   I watched them together, Watched them behind closed doors Watched them in public, in private, Watched them always And part of me laughed at how awful they were How she didn’t know his rhythms How he couldn’t recognize her signs But still I was the one outside And she was the one inside In his bed In his shower In his heart And I was doing something wrong Something that I couldn’t figure out Something that wasn’t good enough That wasn’t strong enough And Christ, she was doing it wrong again ! Her hands were in the wrong place Her lips were too rough He needed touched there Need caressed there And this was ludicrous Because I was better Better at pleasure Better at pain And yet I was the one outside And she was the one inside And I hated her for winning Hated her for her imperfection For her faults and her body Her body that didn’t work Her mind that wasn’t mine And so I went home and I dyed my hair Dyed

AN EXORCISM OF LUST: Poetry for the Damned

AN EXORCISM OF LUST by Stephanie M. Wytovich   We were in the car You put on “Come with Me Now” by the KONGOS I laughed This was my song And you were the one who introduced me to it All those weeks ago Before I hid Before you ran away You handed me the whiskey bottle I drank and drove down country roads We sang We danced We pulled over I came with you You came with me Now Then Always The KONGOS continued to play We looked at the sky Threw up our hands Screamed Screamed loud Screamed together And that was the first time I felt love Naked in the woods My gypsy soul exposed You, standing there Holding my heart Between your teeth Bleeding Broken And dead But happier than ever before