I'm done with my story about the undead sharks, although since there's only one shark, it's just an undead shark story. The working title was "Bad Sushi" but I've changed it to "Red Teeth, Red Sails." The story takes place on a sailfishing trip.
I suspect it's horrible and completely unscary. The character stuff I included feels forced. The ending wobbles around before just stopping. I made up almost every single fact I used, except for a quick browse through some sailfishing charter trip websites. But then, that's how I write all my stories.
I haven't sent the story off to the Dead Bait anthology yet--I'm hoping that sitting on it a day or two will help me pinpoint and fix (if possible) the story's myriad flaws. Unfortunately, the main flaw is that I'm just not a horror writer. Hanging out with all you horror guys and gals makes me feel like I'm running with the big dogs, but after this story it seems pretty obvious that I should probably stay on the porch writing about, you know, elves.