As I’m typing this, a few scant days remain in 2025, and before the curtain falls forever on this wretched year, I thought I’d reflect on my writing progress (or lack thereof) during this past year.
I entered 2025 at a psychological low point following the publication of Blood Family. If I’m being honest (and I strive for honesty), Blood Family didn’t sell well, despite the money I sunk into marketing. Hardly any reviews or readers, plus a layout and graphic design that didn’t live up to previous installments of the Martyr’s Vow books, meant I entered 2025 in a pretty bad place. I spent the first few months of the year teaching English and struggling over a few stories. I started writing another book and lost focus. It felt like I was running around in a hamster wheel; though my pace quickened with every stride, I wasn’t going anywhere. Impostor syndrome hit me like a tidal wave. Was I really an author? Do my stories matter? Do I have an audience, or am I releasing books into the void?
It’s not that Blood Family is a bad book; it’s that the third book in a series won’t have readers unless they’ve read the first two novels. Being a glutton for punishment, I worked on the fourth and final book in the Martyr’s Vow series, The Book of Wine and Sorrow. Finished writing by the publisher’s deadline and it went into the editing phase during the summer. Around that time, I also made the decision not to start on any new novels but work on some short stories.
That decision paid off. Four of my short stories were accepted for publication. “Try the Unicorn,” a story about a restaurant reviewer in a fantasy world where mythological creatures are on the menu, appeared in the July issue of Quills & Tales. “Let Them Rest,” about a nursing home for elderly monsters, was accepted in More Monsters Next Door, an anthology of 20-monster themed tales. “Kindness is the Rarest Thing,” a hopepunk story set in a distopia controlled by a sinister government called The Agenda, landed in an anthology Interesting Times: A Hopepunk Anthology. A fourth story, “Nobby’s Happy Forest,” about a 1970s children’s TV show helmed by an evil puppet, will appear next year.
Another short story, “The Noctambulist,” appeared in dreamcaught, an anthology from Shadow Spark Publishing. A horror writer suffering from insomnia sees a ghastly apparation called Mr. Sandman (or the Hat Man or urban legend) and realizes he’s being controlled in his sleep.
Besides these short stories, Shadow Spark Publishing released The Book of Wine and Sorrow, the fourth and final book in the Marty’rs Vow series. Promotions for that book will kick off in January with a virtual book tour, so if you’re interested in ancient Armenian folklore and mythology with a slightly horror/thriller bent, I’ve got you covered. It felt bittersweet completing the Marty’rs Vow series, and I hope readers will discover Armand, Vonnie, and their pet Aralez Barkev.
This was the year I also attended Stokercon in Stamford, Conn. and got to meet so many wonderful horror auhors. I can’t wait to attend Stokercon in Pittsburgh next year. Besides Stokercon, I also attended Philcon in Cherry Hill, NJ where my aspiring writer ass participated in an autograph session, reading, and panel discussions.
Accolades came as a shock: my folk horror novel The Ocean Hugs Hard won in the Horror/Supernatural category in The 2025 American Fiction Awards. The book also was a finalist in the Horror: Occult and Horror: Psychological categories. The Ocean Hugs Hard also won two second place awards in The BookFest Awards, in the Horror: Psychological and Mystery: Supernatural categories.
Besides our old gloomy buddy Impostor Syndrome, something called George McFly Syndrome visited me. If you’ve never seen the movie Back to the Future, George McFly is protagonist Marty McFly’s nebbishy father. When Marty travels back in time, he meets his father as a teenager and discovers his future dad writes science fiction stories. Marty asks young George why he never lets anyone read his stories. George timidly replies, “I never let anybody read my stories. What if they didn’t like them? What if they told me I was no good?” George McFly Syndrome is when writers suffer from insecurity and self-doubt (even more than the dreaded Impostor Syndrome), and procrastinate with their writing. They over-polish their work, futzing on the tiniest details, and never let anyone read what they’ve written.
I fell into George McFly Syndrome early in 2025 after receiving multiple rejections from publishers. “Maybe I’m not good at this,” I mused. “Maybe I should quit writing. All publihers ever tell me is no.” I took some time for myself and sat with my writing. I focused on writing new short stories and editing the old ones, zeroing in on what didn’t work and rewriting those parts. It’s not a foolproof plan, but concentrating on short stories this summer apparently paid off.
This year was the first time in a dozen years when I read my poetry in front of a live audience. The Muse struck hard this September and I read a few original poems at a coffee shop and art gallery. I’m looking forward to reading more poetry in 2026 at different venues.
Wherever the road takes me next year, I hope to bring the words with honesty, sincerity, and my usual New Jersey snark. To all of my beta readers, editors, publishers and fellow writers, thank you for your feedback and inspiration. Your comments, advice, and encouragement helped me continue my writerly journey.
Eric Avedissian 