Richard Schiver

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  • Weekly Writing Challenge 12/17/2025

    Weekly Writing Challenge 12/17/2025

    I began work on this little tale more years ago than I care to admit. In the interim the story became lost when an old computer quit working. I remember at the time that I felt the story was beyond my capabilities. I feel confident now that I may be able to do the story justice.

    Disclaimer: I understand it’s not possible for a memory from a donor to appear in a clone. But when you’re writing, you enter the world of what if, where everything is possible.

    Without further adieu I give you the first 600 words of

    I Am!

    He became aware of his surroundings in increments.

    The tireless voice of a wheel humming on pavement, punctuated by the rhythmic slap of a seam in the roadway that came like the steady tick of a metronome measuring the passing moments. The rocking motion of the vehicle in which he was a prisoner, wearing through the skin at the tips of his shoulder blades pressed against cold, unyielding, steel.

    The air around him was heavy with the scent of unwashed bodies, and though his eyes were open, he saw nothing but the bleak emptiness of despair.

    Where am I? What have they done to me?

    A cough came from above, a grunt from the left. With shaking hands, he explored his prison and found he was sitting in a corner, his hips twisted to one side with his legs curled beneath him. Other sounds intruded upon his terror, adding to the panic slowly nibbling its way through him. He struggled to bring it under control, to try and reason out this problem, but could find no plausible explanation for what was happening to him. At this his panic roared to life as he tried to reign it in. If he let it go, he would turn into a raving lunatic battering its flesh against unyielding steel. He had to center himself if he hoped to survive.

    Bringing his emotions under control, he realized there were others with him.

    But where was here?

    Warm fluid trickled onto his chest, several drops splashing into his mouth to leave a bitter taste as the overpowering odor of urine washed over him, tainted with the sharp tang of shit. He held up his hand to shield his face, his fingers pressing against warm flesh in a tangled mass of coarse hair. His hand brushed against a fleshy appendage and he grabbed it.

    Stars filled the darkness as a hard hand slapped his face and he released his hold to retreat into the corner.


    Who are they? What are they?

    They were trapped, all of them, living in their own waste as the night stretched into forever.

    The last thing he remembered was leaving his office to check on the sound of voices coming from the loading area. The Co-Op, where he’d been the assistant manager for the past three months had been closed for nearly an hour when the sound of the big steel door going up interrupted him as he was counting the till.

    Normally he would have been gone by then, but his wife had called frantic over a report of someone breaking into their neighbor’s house. It had taken Gus the better part of an hour to settle her down, reassuring her as best he could, promising he would be home soon. The memory of that promise, now broken, sent a pang of guilt shooting through him.

    How long has it been?

    Here, time held no meaning.

    In the loading area he had come upon two drivers throwing bags of shelled corn into the back of one of the company trucks. The deliveries had been made for the day so the only explanation for what they were doing was theft. If you’re going to take the risk of stealing something, why shelled corn? he wondered.

    He never got the chance to ask for as he approached them, and they stood up from their task, the younger of the two glanced over his left shoulder. Someone was coming up behind him and as he turned to confront this new threat darkness descended around him with an abrupt finality. 

    Why?

    To be continued!

    This week the short story titled, Brothers, was sent to my newsletter. It’s a story much like this one that was born in my desire to write a series of alphabet stories. The title of each beginning with a letter from the alphabet. I Am! will be the ninth story when it is eventually finished. What you see on my blog is the raw, unedited version. What my subscribers receive is the fully polished and edited version of each story. The stories are sent every other month. During the off months I share a full chapter from one of my works in progress, of which there are currently three.

    If you’d like to sign up for my newsletter, follow the link below and you will get full access to every story and chapter sent since I got serious about following through. You will also receive a full length novel only available to my subscribers. You can’t buy this book anywhere else.

    Synopsis: Jimmy and his friends have come to the roof of their apartment building to watch the passage of the comet Omega9. Little do they know the dust from the comet contains ancient organisms that are about to turn their world upside down.

    They’re already dealing with tough times, but things get even crazier when Robert’s mom is attacked by his dad and turns into a zombie. This is only the first act in a chain of events that plunges the world into the zombie apocalypse. Forcing the boys to figure out how to survive in this new, terrifying reality.

    Trapped between the undead, and the evil living in the building, their future becomes more perilous until Robert makes a startling discovery in the basement. In the end it’s all about survival, friendship, and facing their fears as they fight to protect each other and their home.

    Sign me up!

  • First Lines Giveaway.

    First Lines Giveaway.

    Everything’s in place. The first draft has been written and edited. The plot has been laid out, poked, and prodded from every imaginable angle in my search for holes. Those I’ve found have been plugged. I’ve delved into the past of my main characters in my search for their motivation, the driving force that will move them forward in the face of impossible odds. I’ve explored their fears growing up, tying everything together to lead them to the final confrontation.

    There is but one thing lacking before I can begin the final rewrite. A simple little thing really. Comprised of anywhere from five to fifteen words. Something I’ve spent the past few weeks searching for.

    I can feel it, hiding right on the tip of my tongue, waiting for me to stumble upon it.

    The first sentence of the story.

    The first line acts as a crucial hook. Like the curtain of a play rising, offering a balance between invitation and resistance to draw readers in without feeling forced. Setting the tone, the character, and the world instantly. Though some great openings are deceptively simple, proving the line’s power is in its promise of the story to come, not just in its stand-alone brilliance.

    Let’s play a little game. What follows are the opening lines of the last five books I read. Everyone who answers correctly will have their name placed in a random drawing and two winners will receive an autographed paperback copy of my novel Cursed. This game will end one month from today, on January 15, 2026.

    5 First Lines

    1 David Arlen’s daughter woke up ten miles outside Fredericksburg.

    2 Blake let himself into the apartment like he did every day after school.

    3 Otto woke to the sound of boots on the floor of the foyer below and even before his eyes fully opened, he knew the nightmare had at last spilled over into reality.

    4 Dennis Lange’s wife found his text messages and told him to be gone by the end of the day.

    5 It was a small town by a small river and a small lake in a small northern part of a Midwest state.

    Good luck.

    What are some of your most recently read first lines?

  • Weekly Writing Challenge 12/10/2025

    Weekly Writing Challenge 12/10/2025

    We have reached the end of Hell Hole. This week I’ve only done 279 words. When I’m writing shorts I tend to let the body of the story simmer before I write the actual ending with the first rewrite. It gives me a chance to consider all the angles of the story and come up with a decent ending. What you’re seeing is only the first draft of the story with very minor editing.When I complete it the story will enter the rotation for my newsletter readers who will receive the fully edited tale. This month’s story is ‘Brothers.’ If you’d like to see it sign up below.

    Join the Adventure: Free Zombie Apocalypse book.

    Every month you will receive either a full short story available nowhere else, or a chapter from one of my works in progress, of with there are currently three. For signing up you will also receive a complete novel available nowhere else. Yours to keep even if you unsubscribe.

    Without further adieu I give you the final part of Hell Hole.

    Continued from last week!

    “Eric,” a familiar voice whispered, coming from behind the crystals on his right. He swiveled his head in that direction, spotting a shadowy shape marring the opaque purity of the crystal.  

    “Who are you? Eric shouted. He already knew the answer to that question but chose to ignore it. To acknowledge what he suspected would send his already teetering mind into territory better suited to the deepest part of lonely nights where dreams became nightmares.

    A soft tap fell on his shoulder and he spun around expecting to find the culprit, but the space behind him was empty. Another tap fell on his other shoulder and he turned in that direction with the same results.

    He had to get out of there while he still could, and he searched for the way out. The exit framed by two crystals forming an X above the way out, but nothing looked even remotely familiar. He had spun around so many times in response to what was happening he had become lost within the forest of crystals. He stumbled to the right, stopping when a shadowy shape appeared within the stand of crystals. He didn’t want to see what they looked like.

    He turned back the other way, stopping again when another shape appeared. They were all around him, closing in, yet still hidden behind the nearly opaque crystals.

    He sank to his knees, hands over his head. “I’m sorry,” he said.

    A firm hand fell upon his shoulder and he looked up into Jared’s face. Only it wasn’t Jared, and while this person looked similar, he was obviously much older.

    “I tried to warn you,” Jared said behind him and Eric.

    The end, for now.

  • Impostor Syndrome: A Writer’s Silent Struggle

    Impostor Syndrome: A Writer’s Silent Struggle

    Impostor syndrome is a silent companion for many authors, lurking in the background as they craft their stories, and submit their manuscripts. Despite evidence of talent and achievement, some writers struggle with persistent self-doubt, and the feeling they don’t deserve their success. They become afraid of being exposed as a fraud. The phenomenon isn’t limited to just newcomers. Many celebrated authors like Maya Angelou and John Steinbeck have confessed to feeling like impostors, convinced that their accomplishments were mere luck or deception.

    “Each time I think, ‘uh-oh, they’re going to find out now. I’ve run a game on everybody, and they’re going to find me out.’” Maya Angelou

    For writers, impostor syndrome exposes itself in many ways. Obsessive self-editing, scrapping drafts at the finish line, endless feedback loops. As well as a reluctance to refer to themselves as “writers”. The subjective nature of writing lies at the core of these feelings. Quality is hard to measure and validation is external, and beyond their control. Unpublished and self-published authors may feel especially vulnerable, lacking the traditional markers of success, while even those with publishing deals can struggle to accept their achievements.

    The emotional toll can be significant. Authors may minimize their accomplishments, attribute their success to luck, and compare themselves unfavorably to peers. Perfectionism and overworking become coping mechanisms, but they rarely silence the inner critic. Yet, the universality of impostor syndrome among writers offers hope. You are not alone.

    “I am not a writer. I’ve been fooling myself and other people.” John Steinbeck

    Overcoming impostor syndrome begins with acknowledging the problem. Naming the feeling and challenging the negative self-talk are crucial first steps. It has been suggested writers keep a “kindness file” of positive feedback. Connecting with supportive communities and focusing on their mission rather than external validation. Shifting attention from self-doubt to the impact of their words can help and authors reclaim their creative joy.

    Ultimately, impostor syndrome may never fully disappear, but acting despite it is what sets successful writers apart. By embracing vulnerability, celebrating small wins, and remembering why they write, authors can continue their journey knowing their voice matters, and their story deserves to be told.

  • Club Thrillrror

    Club Thrillrror

    Every year Alix Kampen compiles a collection of Thriller and Horror novels to be sold in book boxes that feature autographed copies of assorted novels along with various trinkets provided by the authors. This will be her seventh year and I will be participating with my novel Cursed.

    From Alix:

    The lights flicker… and the countdown begins.

    Can we sell out before the shadows take over?

    Inside each box lurks signed horrors, chilling thrillers, and surprises sharp enough to draw blood (figuratively… we think).

    Only the bold dare to unbox the unknown.

    Only the fearless help us reach our goal before midnight falls on December 31st.

    🎃 Ready to face the fear? Fill out the google order form before these offers disappear into the dark. (Can ship internationally from Canada

    Order form; https://tinyurl.com/CTOrder7

    Join Club Thrillrror on Facebook to stay abreast of future offerings. https://www.facebook.com/groups/310590021371195/

    They are also on Instagram: @clubthrillrror

    The images below contain the lists of available titles broken down by genre. Along with the prices for each box. Use the order form above to order yours today.