Author: Stefanie Snider

Novelist, wife, vengeful harpy.

Moments in Writing: Know When to Give Up

Stefanie Snider

I took on a writing commission months ago. The brief was to write a dozen children’s stories for someone’s niece and nephew, working in details of the kids’ lives to make a keepsake for Christmas. I was given a deposit and let loose.

I can’t do it.

It’s not for lack of trying. I’ve tried, and tried, and tried. But I just can’t wrap my mind around writing for children. C says it would be easier to fake it if I were a fantasy writer…“Kids like that kind of stuff.”

True, but I’m not elves-and-magic-beans. I’m murder-you-and-feed-you-to-pigs. I don’t have kids. I don’t know the first thing about age-appropriate stories. I didn’t even read kids’ books when I was one.

I think part of growing your artistic career is setting limits and knowing yourself. So as much as I’d love for those kids to get my stories under their tree, I’m going to have to refund that deposit.

I thought I would feel guilty. But instead I feel proud. Proud of myself for moving forward with my career the way I want, not the way other people expect. It feels good.

I Ate a Severed Thumb

Stefanie Snider

I went camping last week with a couple friends from high school. Both are vegetarians, so tofu hotdogs were on the menu. “No problem,” says I, “I don’t mind veggie dogs.”

Cue the package being opened and the dogs being doled out. I had threaded mine onto a coat hanger classy upscale roasting implement when I noticed something odd.

It looked a little…grotesque. The package must have been sealed too tightly, squishing the hotdogs together, and resulting in a strange discoloration.

Either that, or some dude at the factory lost his thumb and no one noticed.

I ate it anyway. It was delicious.

How to Draw Zombie Justin Bieber

Stefanie Snider

Internet, what have you done to our zombies? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?
Can we not have one thing left unsullied by the Beebs?

How to Draw Zombie Justin Bieber.

Attack of the Killer Carpet Monster

Stefanie Snider

I had trouble sleeping again last night. After tossing and turning, shutting the light off, then on, then reading, then lying quietly with my eyes closed, I gave up and decided to get a glass of water.

I went down to the kitchen and flipped on the light.

An impossibly huge carpet monster fell off the wall.

What’s a carpet monster, you say? One of these little bastards, so dubbed in our home due to the fact that they blend perfectly with our carpet, so you could be walking within inches of one and never even know:

Ew ew ew ew EW EW EW.

It would’ve startled you, too, something furry flopping onto the floor then running straight at you. I screamed like an impossibly sissy girl and ran in a rough circle, trying to scare the thing the way it had scared me so it would run away and not touch my feet with its horrible, horrible legs.

It moved like lightning on crack. I was getting ready to propel myself ass-first up onto the counter when it zoomed past, waving at me with its million legs, and hid under the fridge. I was alternately paralyzed with horror and…well. You should know this about me: when I am overtired, like really, really sleep deprived, I get the giggles. The smallest, unfunniest thing will make me laugh until I cry and choke on my own saliva. It’s so sexy, you don’t even know.

So here I am, backed against the counter, and it occurs to me how silly I’m being, and my brain knows this but my body doesn’t give a shit what my brain has to say and I am completely unable to move. I’m stuck there, laughing and shrieking and finally C comes in to check whether I have completely lost my mind.

I manage to cross the room and perch on a bar stool, feet tucked up under me so the thing can’t get them.

C says, “I gotta see this thing.” And what does he do? He gets down on the floor in front of the fridge and tries to lure it out.

The whole time, I’m gigglescreaming uncontrollably and panicking that it’s going to get on him and he’s poking around under there with his bare hands and the whole scene was just not cool.

He never did find it. And I don’t think he believed me when I told him it was the size of a mouse.

To be fair, a house centipede isn’t dangerous. They’re supposedly helpful and eat other bugs or some shit. I don’t care. What I care about is that there’s an unholy creature with a billion legs made of pure hatred running around this house and IT’S ABLE TO CLIMB WALLS. Which means IT COULD FALL ON ME. And EAT MY BRAIN. Totally unacceptable.

(image source)

How to Feel Miserable as an Artist

Stefanie Snider

By Keri Smith (you might know her from Wreck This Journal)

(via the Facebook page for Some Guy Who Kills People)

Back to the Grind

Stefanie Snider

Ugh, vacation’s over. I’m back to work tomorrow.

Why is it that time spent at work feels so much longer than time spent…well, doing pretty much anything else?

I’ve always promised myself I wouldn’t post much about DayJob, having read the horror stories of people fired for same, but suffice it to say I am not looking forward to going back. That bit’s no secret.

My solution to stay sane: I’m reading 168 Hours: You Have More Time Than You Think and really thinking about ways I can still feel like my creative self while I’m going about my day. I’m not far into the book, but already I’m seeing all kinds of small ways I can get more done.

I bought a new charger for my dead netbook, so step one will be committing to writing at lunch. Tried before, didn’t stick with it, but I’ve reevaluated my priorities and I’m ready to give it another go. Besides, I’ll never get anywhere unless I really push myself.

Step two is nerding it up by self-designing new scheduling inserts for my Filofax. It seems I can’t find any that suit me, and I think I need to visually see where my time is going in order to use it better.

There’s got to be some way to get there.

“Scary Baby Costume” (Not What You’d Think)

Stefanie Snider

“Animated Scary Baby Girl in Harness Prop, three Different Audio Tracks. Mouth Moves. Great Costume Accessory. Eyes Light Up. Spins a hundred and eighty Degrees.”

This is fucking fantastic. I wonder if I can claim it as a business expense to promote Annabelle…

(source)

(That Random Capitalization pained me To copy-Paste, by the Way.)

Real Life Horror: Chilling Last Words

Stefanie Snider

Everyone knows about the practice of allowing a death-row inmate their last statement before execution. But what I didn’t know, and you may not either, is that some of these are available for public viewing.

The speeches run the gamut from flat silence — having declined to say anything — to describing the feeling of the lethal injection taking hold immediately before death.

Some excerpts follow below; if you click the names you can find out about the crimes committed. I’ve bolded the bits that really chilled me:

Jerry Bird: “I don’t think so. That’s all. Go ahead. Start things rolling.” (Mouthed “Hi, Mom” to his mother.)

Jesus Romero, Jr.: When his attorney came into the witness room, he said, “Tell Mom I love her.” The attorney said back to him, “I love you, too.”

Jerry Lee Hogue: “Mindy, I’m with you, honey. I do not know why, Mindy, you are doing this, but I will still forgive you. You know he is a murderer. Why don’t you support me? He will do it again. Mindy, you are lucky you are still alive.
Give my love to my family. I love them. Mindy, you can stop this.
O.K., I’m ready.”

Michael McBride: [excerpt] “So, uh, I wanted you to hear me say that and I apologize and for any other grief I have caused you know, including the, ah, what you’re about to witness now. It won’t be very long. As soon as you realize that appear I am falling asleep. I would leave because I won’t be here after that point. I will be dead at that point. It’s irreversible. God bless all of you. Thank you.”

Clark, James: “Uh, I don’t know, Um, I don’t know what to say. I don’t know. (pauses) I didn’t know anybody was there. Howdy.”

Knight, Patrick: [excerpt] “I said I was going to tell a joke. Death has set me free. That’s the biggest joke, I deserve this. And the other joke is I am not Patrick Bryan Knight, and ya’ll can’t stop this execution now. Go ahead, I’m finished. Come on, tell me Lord. I love you Melyssa, take care of that little monster for me.”

John Alba: [excerpt] “Tell, everyone I love them. I’ll be OK. You will too. Remember what asked you. Give my love to the grandchildren. Tell Jake and Mia, Papa Alba loves them. Okay Warden, let’s do it, I love yall. I can taste it already. I am starting to go.”

Steven Woods: “You’re not about to witness an execution, you are about to witness a murder. I am strapped down for something Marcus Rhodes did. I never killed anybody, ever. I love you, Mom. I love you, Tali. This is wrong. This whole thing is wrong. I can’t believe you are going to let Marcus Rhodes walk around free. Justice has let me down. Somebody completely screwed this up. I love you too, Mom. Well Warden, if you are going to murder someone, go ahead and do it. Pull the trigger. It’s coming. I can feel it coming. Goodbye.”

Michael Shapcott’s “Gage and Church: the Undead”

Stefanie Snider

Gage and Church: the Undead (Pet Sematary)
18″ x 24″
Graphite, Acrylic, and Oil on Canvas

I love this, and it turns out I’m not alone: Miko Hughes, the actor who played Gage in Pet Sematary, commented on Shapcott’s blog! (I always wondered what became of little “Gage”. Turns out he ended up hot.)

(via michael-shapcott.com)