Richard Schiver

Tag: books

  • 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 Unpublished and self-published authors may feel especially vulnerable, lacking the traditional markers of success, while even those with publishing deals can struggle to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.

  • Weekly Writing Challenge 12/03/2025

    Weekly Writing Challenge 12/03/2025

    Eric rolled Jared over, his eyes were closed, his face slack, his chest perfectly still. He looked like he was merely sleeping, but Eric understood it was a sleep from which he would not awaken. Eric stood up and looked down the narrow mine. It was only another hundred feet or so to the opening of the crystal cave, he could carry Jared’s body that far and leave it for them.

    He only hoped it would be enough.

    Every sacrifice before Jared had been alive. He hoped they would not hold that against him. Squatting down he lifted Jared by his arms and slung his cooling body over his shoulder. Rising back to his feet he fixed his helmet upon his head and moved in the direction of the crystal cave.

    As he moved, he debated with himself. One part of him wanted to leave the body where it was and flee. But that wouldn’t do any good. If his offering was unacceptable, they would still find him. Maybe there was a chance they would understand, after all he’d always brought them what they wanted without argument. But what choice did he have?

    He found the crystal cave when he’d become lost in the mine as a young boy looking for adventure. How he managed to get down into the lower levels without a rope had remained a mystery to him. All he could recall of that time was squeezing himself through narrow passages as he ventured deeper and deeper into the earth.

    Reaching the horizontal shafts of the mine made his adventure a little easier, that is until the flashlight he brought burned out. He had never expected to get this deep, originally planning only to explore the easily accessible portions of the mine. But the lure of uncovering the secrets behind those narrow crevices had proven too much to ignore. Today, as a full grown teenager, he’d never be able to squeeze through those cracks and crevices.

    When his flashlight went out, he had nearly lost control of himself, the darkness around him so complete, he saw nothing. It was much darker than anything he’d ever experienced before. But as his eyes adjusted to the dark, he detected a faint light coming from somewhere ahead. With every step closer to the light, it grew brighter, and he found himself in that room of crystals.

    They were massive, hexagonal shapes, some nearly thirty feet long and at least four feet across. Crammed together into a room he would never be able to properly measure, and that was when he found them. The lost miners. This who had been sealed into the cave after its collapse. He didn’t see them at first, but as he explored the room of crystals, he became aware of shadowy shapes moving just out of sight, catching brief glimpses of figures that scurried about just beyond his peripheral vision.

    “Hello,” he shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth, that solitary word echoing into the distance as it repeated itself into the depths. It was then a chill slid down his back as a soft voice whispered in his ear.

    “We are here.”

    He spun around in a circle as those shadowy shapes no longer hid from his view, yet they remained behind the crystals, marring their milky depths with their shadowy shapes. As if the souls of the lost miners had taken up residence in the crystals themselves, offered a form of eternity few would understand.

    “What do you want?” He asked as the black shapes crowded around him.

    Their answer filled him with terror. They wanted the blood of the living, the warm spark of something whose heart still beat. They wanted their memories, their experiences, their knowledge of the past, and the dreams of their future.

    To be continued

    If you’d like to read the entire story up to this point follow this link.

    Hell Hole

  • Uncover Your Authentic Voice as a Writer

    Uncover Your Authentic Voice as a Writer

    In the beginning every writer faces the challenge of finding their authentic voice. Your writing voice is more than just the words you choose; it’s the unique perspective, rhythm, and personality that shines through your work. But how do you discover and nurture this elusive quality?

    The first step in finding your voice is embracing authenticity. Write as you speak and let your natural tone guide your sentences. Don’t try to mimic the style of your favorite authors or follow trends just because they’re popular. Instead, focus on expressing your thoughts honestly. Readers are drawn to sincerity and they can sense when a writer is genuine.

    Exposure to different styles and genres can help you understand what resonates with you. Read widely, from classic literature to modern blogs, and pay attention to what excites or moves you. Then, write often. The more you write, the more comfortable you’ll become with your own style. Experiment with different formats, tones, and topics until you find what feels right.

    Your background, interests, and experiences are the foundation of your voice. Don’t shy away from incorporating personal anecdotes or opinions into your writing. These elements make your work relatable and memorable. Remember, your perspective is unique. No one else sees the world as you do.

    Finding your voice doesn’t mean ignoring grammar or structure. During editing, refine your work to ensure clarity while preserving your individuality. Remove clichés and unnecessary jargon but keep the quirks that make your writing distinct.

    Finding your voice is a journey, not a destination. It evolves as you grow as a writer and as a person. Be patient with yourself and enjoy the process of discovery. Over time, your authentic voice will emerge, making your writing truly your own.

  • Weekly Writing Challenge 11/26/2025

    Weekly Writing Challenge 11/26/2025

    Sorry I’m a little late getting this out to you.

    With Jared trialing behind, Eric followed the beam of his flashlight into the depths of the mine. Around them the shadows felt alive with the memories of past miners who spent their days toiling beneath the ground, their emotions becoming permanently etched into the shattered stone around them. Hope, dreams, and the desire for a better life filled the emptiness pressing in on all sides.

    Errant thoughts filtered through Eric’s mind. Concern for a sick child. Worry over meeting unrealistic quotas. The fear over losing one’s job only because they couldn’t keep up. What would they do then? None of them had much socked away for emergencies, the company store made sure of that, offering an easy line of credit that could never be paid off. Not even the homes they lived in belonged to them, another aspect of living in a company town where the only thing that really belonged to each miner was the misery of eking out a living.

    There lived in these shadows the constant fear the roof might cave in, locking them away for eternity in the cold ground.

    “It’s getting warmer,” Jared said, struggling to keep up.

    “We’re getting deeper, the deeper we go the warmer it will get. I did some reading on these mines. Did you know the miners worked in company towns that made sure they could never escape their job?”

    “That sounds horrible,” Jared responded.

    “That’s the way things were back then. Families were indebted to the owners of the mine for everything. Every week their rent and whatever they purchased at the company store were deducted from their pay. They didn’t have much left over, but they still pooled what they had left to build a schoolhouse and pay a teacher hoping their children would grow up and escape the life they were leading.”

    “I’m glad it’s not like that anymore,” Jared said.

    Eric nodded in response as they reached the end of the passage where a slight ramp took them down to the next level. Reaching the bottom of the ramp Eric heard what sounded like picks working the mine somewhere in the emptiness ahead. The sound was accompanied by soft voices murmuring in the shadows and he imagined a crew of men working by candlelight in the shadows ahead.

    Once again that soft voice whispered in his ear. Beware of friends who tell half-truths. A chilled breath tickled his earlobe.

    Eric spun around on Jared who was several feet behind him, his hand closed in a fist.

    “Why do you keep fucking with me?” He shouted as he stalked towards Jared who cowered from his approach.

    Only a liar would be afraid, the thought whispered through his mind as he closed with Jared who held up his hands to protect himself. His defensive posture only enraged him more and he lashed out with a right cross that sent Jared falling to the floor.

    “I don’t know what you’re talking about?” Jared said as he tried to get back to his feet.

    Eric hit him again, hard, and Jared dropped back to the floor where he remained still.

    Jared stood over him, his hand opening and closing as the anger he’d felt slowly drained away. When reason reasserted itself, he realized what he had done and dropped to his knees next to Jared’s prone figure.

    “I’m sorry man, I don’t know what came over me,” he said as he ran his hand up and down Jared’s back, searching for signs of life. He had no idea how to take a person’s pulse and was filled with horrifying loneliness as he struggled to wake his friend up.

    To be continued!