My poem “Play It Backwards (for Bonus Content from the Devil)” was accepted by the Horror Writers Association for their Poetry Showcase XI. (I like me a long poem title. (I also like parentheticals.))

They pay $30 a poem, which means not only am I now legally a professional, I can even celebrate with a modestly priced lunch.

Since I will be published soon, I wanted to put up a site, so that in case someone were to read and like my poem, they would be able to find my authorly presence out in the world.

To those people: Hi, I’m Stacie Herrington. My debut horror novel is nearly finished-ish, and I’ve got another on the way. As of today, I am unagented and unpublished, although, of course, the unpublished part will change as soon as the HWA Poetry Showcase XI comes out. So, that’s neat.

I intend to update this site soon with an About page and some means of contacting me, for a variety of reasons, not the least of which is so that prospective agents eager for the amazing ground-floor opportunity of representing me with my debut novel can flood my inbox with introductions. (If I had to identify the least of which, it would probably be penis enlargement ads. I do not have a penis.)

I have a lot of people to thank, but I think it’s funniest to start by thanking my first and favorite creative writing professor, M, because the poem that was accepted was his least favorite out of my entire (small) collection. I say that because it makes a good anecdote (and because it’s true), but really, he has become one of my best friends and I owe him a debt of gratitude for so much writing-related and non-writing-related value he has added to my life.

I’d also like to thank C, my mom, and L. (The rest of my alive family sucks except for J, M, and my pets.)

(I’m sure my grandparents would be proud of me if they were alive. Although, they would be really disappointed that I typed the word “penis” on the internet. To be honest, I probably would not have typed the word “penis” on the internet if they were still alive. I also probably would have written a completely different debut novel from the one I have nearly finished-ish, if I even wrote one at all. Still, I would greatly prefer they were alive. I miss them every day.

(I feel like my mom will think it’s not the best thing that I typed the word “penis” on the internet, but I think she will forgive me. Better to publish first and ask for forgiveness later, that’s what I always say (starting now).))