An Interview With Weldon Burge, Author of Harvester of Sorrow and Founder of Smart Rhino Publishing

 

I first met Weldon Burge at a Creatures, Crimes, and Creativity conference several years ago, when the conference was still in the wilds of Hunt Valley MD. After a few panels we noticed that, not only were we always attending the same panels, we tended to end up with one of us sitting directly behind the other. That led to conversation (“Are you stalking me?”) and friendship. Getting to see Weldon is a highlight of every C3 I attend.

 

Weldon’s new book, Harvester of Sorrow drops next week from Suspense Publishing, though that’s not all he had going on, as the interview will show.

 

One Bite at a Time: Howdy, Weldon. It’s good to see you here. What’s the skinny on Harvester of Sorrow?

 

Weldon Burge: Ah, the skinny. Harvester of Sorrow is about a dedicated and insightful police detective, Ezekiel Marrs, who embarks on a race to solve a series of vicious crimes involving murder, kidnapping, tainted cocaine, and voodoo. Marrs and his team of fellow officers must confront two of the most vicious villains they have ever encountered.

 

The novel, published by Suspense Publishing, is the first in a planned series of police procedurals. I’ve written for Suspense Magazine for about a decade, mostly writing author interviews. Submitting the book to Suspense Publishing, an imprint of the magazine, made total sense.

 

I’ve always wanted to write a police procedural, and I’ve always had an interest in voodoo. Combining the two elements as a thriller was my objective when drafting the book—which, by the way, took me more than a decade. Much of what I wrote never made it into the book. Guess that’s common for many novelists.

 

OBAAT: It’s not unusual for thrillers to have supernatural aspects; it is for procedurals. A high-concept description of HoS could be “Law & Order meets Angel Heart.” How did this develop in your mind?

 

WB: Well, I’m a big Ed McBain fan, and one of the first McBain books I read was Ghosts. McBain handled the supernatural elements well in that police procedural. Even Stephen King praised the novel. There are other crime novels with supernatural aspects, but that’s the one that immediately comes to mind. And I loved how McBain defined his characters largely through dialogue. I attempted the same style with Harvester of Sorrow.

 

Law & Order meets Angel Heart. Wow, I’m honored, that’s a pretty accurate description of Harvester of Sorrow now that you mention it. Well, I hope readers will make those comparisons as well. I’ve always been a reader and writer of horror and suspense fiction, so the storyline for the novel was something of a no-brainer for me. The two genres are my playground. To be honest, the genres make for a superb marriage. So, I played it that way as I wrote the book. And I’ve always thought horror and humor are kissing cousins, so there’s a good deal of dark humor in the blend as well. I hope readers will enjoy it.

 

 

OBAAT: The book spans eleven years; I’ve never had the balls to have a story last longer than a few months. How did you keep your threads together when skipping ahead?

 

WB: The beginning of Harvester of Sorrow takes place in Port-au-Prince, Haiti, in 1982 and introduces the main villain, Edouard LeBorg. His story over the following eleven-year time span is basically his history, which is told as the novel’s story progresses. The core of the police procedural elements take place in a six-month period in 1993. Juxtaposing the two threads was relatively easy—I approached them as two stories that complemented each other. The trick was sequencing them at best effect. I think the strategy worked in the polished book.

 

OBAAT: You have multiple irons in the fire, as you’re also the driving force behind Smart Rhino Publications. How did you get into that, and how much of your time does it demand?

 

WB: I’ve always wanted to start a small, independent publishing company that focuses on suspense and horror fiction. Beyond that, there are two major reasons I launched Smart Rhino back in 2012.

 

First, I’m a huge fan of anthologies, like Dark Crimes, Stalkers, Predators, Transgressions, and all those Alfred Hitchcock anthos ages ago. My desire to publish an anthology led to the first Zippered Flesh horror anthology. To date, we’ve published fifteen books, eight of which were anthos.

 

Second, I enjoy collaborating with other writers, especially talented writers who haven’t quite hit the limelight yet. I’m a “pay-it-forward” guy. I appreciate the many folks who have supported me over the years, and helping writers better their careers is a natural ambition of mine because of it. Starting Smart Rhino Publications, especially with the anthologies, provided an opportunity for me to develop venues for those authors. I’ve worked with more than a hundred writers over the years. That means more to me than you know!

 

The Smart Rhino projects demand a great deal of time. I received 120+ submissions for the last anthology, with only twenty-four slots available in the book. I read every story. I also edit and format each book. (I do, however, rely on a cover artist, cover designer, and proofreader for each book.) So, yep, time is always an issue. But I love doing it, so I make the time.

 

OBAAT: Smart Rhino also recently published, Asinine Assassins. Tell us a little about that one.

 

WB: That’s the third in the “Assassins” series of anthologies Smart Rhino has published. The first two, Uncommon Assassins and Insidious Assassins, were straight-up suspense anthologies. Well, with a smattering of dark humor. When pulling together Asinine Assassins, I wanted to go full tilt into darkly humorous and tongue-in-cheek stories—weird and yet suspenseful, even wacko and surreal tales. I mean, there are stories about murderous otters, a vastly different take on Jack the Ripper, a vengeful deer, and a female assassin who is far too hung up on fashion. And that’s just a taste of the twenty-four stories in the collection. I don’t think there is another anthology out there with a similar spirit and focus. It was the most fun yet of the Smart Rhino anthologies I’ve pulled together and edited. The writers took the theme and ran with it, and I’m deeply appreciative of their diverse talents.

 

OBAAT: What’s up next, and what are you working on now?

 

WB: I’m currently about one hundred pages into my next novel, a paranormal mystery. (I guess I can’t get away from that “supernatural” thing.) I’ve played with a dozen or more titles for the book, but none have thrilled me. Regardless, I’m thinking this may be the first in another series. We’ll see.

 

After that, I’ll turn to writing a sequel to Harvester of Sorrow. The next book will have no supernatural elements at all and will pick up where the other novel left off. I like that sense of continuity in a series, and it allows for further character development. Referring again to Ed McBain, his 87^th Precinct series began in 1956 and ended in 2006—we’re talking fifty-two books! The continuity he established with his host of characters, over so many decades, was astounding. I hope, as I develop my series, I can accomplish something similar.

 

Thanks, Dana!

A Strong Affirmation of Plantsing

There is only one generally accepted way to write: put your ass in the chair and get at it. The consensus breaks down after that.

I used to be a dedicated outliner. More than outlines; treatments. I remember a 30-page document written in full paragraphs for an early effort. Maybe the original Nick Forte, the one that (thankfully) didn’t sell before I decided to take the character in a different direction. (That doesn’t mean I’m not still carrying a torch for the publisher that jacked me around on an “exclusive” for two years before blowing me off with a two-sentence, grammatically incorrect rejection. But I digress.) Not one of James Ellroy’s 700-page monstrosities that are actually longer than the book, but still pretty detailed.

I went back and forth about this for a long time. Friends argued in favor of the virtue of being as surprised as the reader would be when a new plot point developed on the screen before me. I tried it a few times. Threw away tens of thousands of words, though I admit I was as surprised as any reader would be at how shitty the results were.

Around this time I read a nifty little book called Making Story: Twenty-One Writers on How They Plot. Not just 21 authors rounded up from in front of Home Depot looking for day jobs as stringers, either. The contributors included names such as Michael Stanley, Kelli Stanley, Yrsa Sigurdardottir, Zoe Sharp, Stephen Jay Schwartz, Timothy Hallinan, Leighton Gage, Bill Crider, and many more. (Thirteen more, for those counting.) This would be the mother lode, I figured, prepared to alter whatever needed altering in order to move my stories forward.

I was right about it being the mother lode, and I learned a key lesson I might not otherwise have come to. Not only was there no consensus, there were 21 different ways to go about it, and they obviously all worked. I say 21 only because there were 21 authors in the project. Had 30 been asked, I’m sure the number would have been 30.

After a brief disappointment over not having found The Way™ I realized this was a completely liberating experience: what worked for one book might not work for the next and that some amalgam of the two could be the best way to write the third. My outlines contained less detail as I went, eventually shrinking to a brief—sometimes single-sentence—description of what needs to happen in each chapter. How it would happen was a game time decision.

I was delighted to be on a panel at the 2015 Creatures, Crimes, and Creativity conference to discuss the merits of plotting vs. pantsing, having thought on it a lot. (For the uninitiated, a “pantser” is an author who does not outline and “writes by the seat of his or her pants.”) I shared the panel with Weldon Burge and Sandra Campbell. Weldon and I were confirmed plotters. Sandra described herself as a “plantser:” half plotter, half pantser. By the end of the hour she had convinced us both that plantsing was the way to go.

I’ve written one book since then. (Nick Forte Volume 5, Bad Samaritan, yet to be released.) Right now I’m early in the second draft of the next Penns River story, working title Small Town Crime. Both had even sketchier outlines than my recent practice, often no more than a line per chapter. Among the benefits of a Word table is its ability to infinitely expand and to be easily re-ordered. Now an outline I would have adjusted a story to suit a few years ago is a living document. I have it up at the same time as the manuscript and it’s rare I go more than a few days without skipping back to the outline to add something that came to me as I typed up the draft and knew I’d want to use.

I read a few years ago that Raymond Chandler never edited drafts; he re-wrote them on clean sheets of paper, rephrasing everything. I tried that with Bad Samaritan and don’t see where it did anything but delay the process, given my shitty typing. (Just because Chandler did it doesn’t make it right. He drank to excess, had Mommy issues, and was a self-pitying pain in the ass, so I don’t feel all that bad about not slavishly following his example.) In Small Town Crime I rewrote the outline before starting the second draft. Quicker than re-typing everything, and easier to maintain an overview of what’s important.

What’s fun is that I thought of this just now, as I was writing this blog post. (Note: The Space-Time Continuum is intact. I wrote this post a couple of weeks ago.) Thanks to the 21 authors in Making Story and Sandra Campbell’s advocacy of plantsing, I’m now comfortable to try something different every time, even change horses mid-stream. Maybe it works. Maybe it doesn’t. What’s the worst that can happen? I’ll learn something.

Fortunately those of you who actually read this know that’s sarcasm. Learning something is always the best-case scenario.

A Conversation With Weldon Burge

Weldon Burge is a true Renaissance man: author, editor, and publisher. He’s also one of a diminishing breed: people who can disagree without becoming disagreeable. I first met Weldon at a Creatures, Crimes, and Creativity conference a couple of years ago and we struck up an immediate friendship. It’s a treat to get to chat with him here for you.

One Bite at a Time: Weldon, first, thanks for this. There are things I’ve wanted to ask you since we met but there’s never time at a conference. Let’s start with the writing. Among the joys of the C3 conference is getting to meet writers who don’t write the same stuff I do. I write crime novels; you write primarily horror short stories. What attracts you to horror?

Weldon Burge: First, Dana, it’s always great to see you at the conferences as well. We’ve had interesting discussions—online and in person.

Well, to answer your question, I write (and read) both suspense and horror. And, of course, suspense and horror share a good number of similarities. But horror is my “go-to” genre.

So, what attracts me to horror? Not to be cliché, but I think horror fiction is cathartic—it’s a way to safely face your demons, so to speak. Horror taps those primal, often psychological fears we all harbor. Plus, it’s just fun to be scared. A good horror story is like a ride on a rollercoaster. It’s thrilling and, in a way, cheats death. Yet, you know it’s actually safe. The guy wearing a mask and wielding a bloody axe in a story you’re reading … well, he’s probably not outside your bedroom window. But, then again, he may be …

OBAAT: Short stories are hard for me. My best ideas seem to want to be novels; I can write a flash piece when I need to. Short stories are a struggle for me, yet they’re right in your wheelhouse. What is it about short stories that resonates so strongly in you? Do you have plans to expand into novels?

WB: I’ve always loved anthologies, so it’s probably not a surprise that I enjoy writing short stories. Nothing against novels, but reading one is a commitment. Not so much with a short story. And I think writing a short story requires greater focus and precision from a writer. You have to get at the characterization, setting, and plot pretty quickly, unlike a novel where you have more leeway when it comes to developing those three elements. Writing a short story is like telling a joke—you have to get to the punch line ASAP. Nobody wants to listen to a joke that’s 300 pages long.

I’ve been asked to expand several of my stories (especially “White Hell, Wisconsin”) into novels. And I have a truly disturbed hit man character, Francis “Flash” Conwright, who has appeared in several of my short stories. I think he may deserve a novel at some point. I’m currently working on a police procedural that—surprise!—has horror elements.

OBAAT:  I learned at this year’s C3 that you like to listen to heavy metal when writing. How does that help you and who do you like to listen to?

WB: Well, when you’re writing horror, I guess it’s natural to have heavy metal in the background. Inspirational? I don’t know. It may simply be my preference. But having screaming guitars, pounding bass and drums, and growling vocals in the background is probably more impactful to writing horror than listening to, say, Adele. As to what I listen to, I’m pretty broad, going back to Blue Cheer in the late ‘60s to Megadeth and Metallica today. I also often listen to rock/blues guitarists like Joe Satriani, Steve Vai, Gary Hoey, and Joe Bonamassa, to name a few.

OBAAT: Your full-time job is working as an editor, both of fiction and non-fiction. Do you feel your editorial work helps your writing?

WB: Oh, definitely! Sitting on both sides of the desk (the writer submitting material, the editor accepting material) has helped in my own career in more ways than I count. As an editor, I’ve worked with somewhere in the neighborhood of a hundred writers. I hope that those writers have learned from me, but I can safely say that I’ve learned far more from them. As the editor at Smart Rhino Publications, I’ve enjoyed working with other fiction writers, all at different levels of their careers. I hope those relationships have been mutually beneficial.

OBAAT: Do you ever worry your editing will spill over into your fiction and influence it too much? Or, even worse, that you’ll inadvertently appropriate something you editing, possibly years ago? I ask this for a reason, as I’ve considered doing some editing and both of these things worry me.

WB: That is actually something I’ve recently contemplated. I’ve been working far too long on the novel I mentioned earlier. A writer friend of mine told me, “You know what your problem is? You’re an editor.” “What do you mean?” “How many times have you rewritten the first chapter?” “Oh …” Switching gears can become problematic.

As far as appropriating something I’ve previously edited … well, I’m not aware that has ever happened. Not that it hasn’t, just that I’m not aware of it. I just don’t worry about that sort of thing. If anything, a story may spur something in my own imagination. But I’m keen on not plagiarizing.

OBAAT: When did you get the idea for Smart Rhino Publications?

WB: I always wanted to publish horror and suspense fiction. I acquired the web domain for Smart Rhino Publications back in 2000. But, it wasn’t until print-on-demand and ebooks came along that I could see how to make things work. Being an independent publisher back in 2000 was foolhardy at best. I finally saw a way to jump into the fray back in 2011, when I started planning our first anthology, Zippered Flesh: Tales of Body Enhancements Gone Bad! I know a lot of people despise Amazon. But, prior to the launch of Createspace and Kindle, Smart Rhino was only an idea. I’m glad it’s no longer that.

OBAAT: How did you come up with the name Smart Rhino?

WB: OK, now this will probably sound bizarre. I had a dream one night in which I saw Rodin’s “The Thinker” with the huge head of a rhinoceros. When I suddenly awoke from the dream, I immediately thought, “Wow that must have been a smart rhino!” Ah, dreams …

OBAAT:  What surprised you about getting a new publishing venture off the ground, whether good or bad?

WB: I got lucky with the first anthology, Zippered Flesh. I had no idea how well it would go over, but the book garnered many great reviews and was largely accepted by the horror community. Our second book, a suspense anthology titled Uncommon Assassins, also went over well. The third book, Zippered Flesh 2, included two stories that earned Bram Stoker Award nominations. That told me Smart Rhino had arrived. Just this past year, the novella The Box Jumper by Lisa Mannetti received a Stoker nomination, and was deemed “Novella of the Year” by This Is Horror in the UK. So, I’m jazzed about Smart Rhino’s success so far. We’ve now published 10 books, and have two more anthologies in planning stages. Trying to keep the momentum going!

OBAAT: Now that Smart Rhino is up and running, what is your biggest challenge? Your greatest joy?

WB: As just about every indie publisher knows, funding is the chief challenge. For most of us, it’s more a labor of love than a profitable venture. So, we’re always looking for more reviews, more stature on social media, different ways to market our books. For me, I’m always looking for more money to start the next Smart Rhino book project. The success of one book feeds the launch of another. We’ve been fairly lucky so far in that regard. But it really comes down to word of mouth from the readers who enjoy our books and spread the word—and, of course, that is the hardest marketing for a publisher to obtain. Without that support from our readers, Smart Rhino would not survive.

As for the greatest joy, I love working with and helping other writers. I love when I hear a reader say something like: “I bought the anthology for the Graham Masterton story, but I enjoyed the stories by several authors I’d never heard of before. I need to search out their other work.” That, for me, is what it’s all about. I also fully appreciate the “name” writers who share that same drive to help others.

OBAAT: It’s pretty well established that between writing, editing, publishing, and the day job, you don’t have a lot of free time. What do you like to do to relax when the stray opportunity presents?

WB: I like to travel with my wife, go to concerts, go to the beach—the normal things, I suppose, that people do to relax. (We seem to have been visiting many wineries lately.) I’d probably have to retire to really relax … and even then …