Litreactor shutting down

Sadly, on October 9, LitReactor announced it will be shutting down. It was a site dedicated to the craft of writing, helping its practitioners refine their skills and tell their stories. Hundreds of articles, workshops and classes backed by a robust and active community, all of it dedicated to making writers better at what they do. It was as entertaining as it was informative, and I enjoyed learning a great deal from the site over the last decade. 

The end of an era

LitReactor was one of the first sites to pay me regularly to write. I was initially brought on to write about comic books and the movies that sprang from them, but eventually expanded into book reviews, video game criticism, and essays on the craft. While it didn’t pay any bills, it gave me the opportunity to explore interesting topics like character development, world building, and ludonarrative dissonance. I even managed to weigh in on some important issues, like mental health and police brutality. And having a byline on LitReactor opened the doors to a few other writing gigs over the years. 

Despite being a destination for writers looking to take their craft seriously, LitReactor was also host to many hilarious satirical bits, listicles, and all-around nonsense that reminded us to still have fun. Everything from dialogue tips to the worst schools in fiction. A salute to popular tropes right next to a clinical dissection of an entire genre. My favorite piece I ever wrote for LitReactor was “Your Favorite Book Sucks: The Giving Tree,” in which I draw an uncomfortably accurate comparison between the philosophies of Shel Silverstein’s beloved children’s book, and those of Iceberg Slim’s controversial classic novel Pimp. I thought it was hilarious. Some people took offense. But honestly, “The Giving Tree” is practically a how-to book on building toxic relationships.

LitReactor was a repository of interesting writing from a variety of viewpoints, and I consider myself lucky to have been one of them. A very unique corner of the internet will be going dark, and that’s always a bummer. Farewell, LitReactor. You will be missed.