Richard Schiver

Tag: Fiction

  • Overcoming Self-Doubt in Writing

    Overcoming Self-Doubt in Writing

    Anyone who is seriously perusing a career as a writer is familiar with the ups and downs that is the writer’s life. Some days you’re riding the top of that emotional wave as the words just flow from your fingers. Hanging ten from that proverbial surfboard of creation as the ocean of ideas washing through your mind batters itself against white beach of the blank page leaving in its wake the basis of what will become a powerful story.

    For every peak in the creative process, where it seems nothing can stand in your way, behind or beyond lies a shadowy valley of self doubt. When that creative wave dashes you against the unyielding stone of cold reality, you tumble from that peak to land in the valley of the shadow of death for the creative process.

    Suddenly the words that had flowed so freely dry up and one is left staring at the blank page as blood begins to form upon their forehead. Who wants to read anything I write? Why do I waste my time doing this? Who really cares anymore?

    Self doubt has silenced the muse. It has thrown a monkey wrench into the machinery of creation, clogging the gears, and stopping them dead in their tracks. Everyone who dares to believe they can create something another person wants to read faces these moments from time to time.

    The greats have carried on their own personal battles with self doubt. Struggling in the years of anonymity before they became an overnight success. Stephen King threw away the original manuscript for Carrie believing no one would want to read it. His wife rescued it from the trash and convinced him to carry on. Great writers from the past were known to agonize over the placement of every word, never really believing that what they were doing would ever be widely accepted.

    How many unknown greats have given up entirely, trashing their greatest works, and turning their backs on their dreams to accept second best? How many Lovecraft’s, Shelly’s, or Stokers have given up even before they started?

    More than we will ever know. One thing we’ve all learned when embarking upon our writing career is that we are our own worst critic. In my opinion what happens when we turn our mind to writing is that we begin to read as writers. We forget how to read as readers. We dissect every story, searching for clues to how the writer put the tale together. In doing so we forget the one thing that drew us to reading in the first place, the excitement of discovering a brand new world living between the covers of a book.

    Writing a novel is like driving a car at night. You can only see as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.
    – E. L. Doctorow

    If you can tell stories, create characters, devise incidents, and have sincerity and passion, it doesn’t matter a damn how you write.
    – Somerset Maugham

    Any man who keeps working is not a failure. He may not be a great writer, but if he applies the old-fashioned virtues of hard, constant labor, he’ll eventually make some kind of career for himself as writer.
    – Ray Bradbury

  • Fridays 5 with Tina S Transformation

    Fridays 5 with Tina S Transformation

    1: When did you first consider yourself a writer?

    A: I considered myself a writer the moment I realized my words had the power to connect with others on a deep, emotional level. That was long before publication, I was 12 when storytelling became not just an outlet, but a calling.

    2. What is the hardest part of writing?

    A: The hardest part is balancing vulnerability with strength, digging into the darkest places of the mind and heart while still shaping those emotions into stories that empower readers rather than weigh them down.

    3: How did you feel upon publication of your first completed project?

    A: It was a mixture of pride, disbelief, and gratitude. Holding my book in my hands for the first time was proof that pain could be transformed into something meaningful, that my words could reach others and perhaps even save them. More than that, I felt a deep sense of legacy, knowing my words would be forever immortalized on pages for my children, grandchildren, and generations to come.

    4: In addition to writing, what else are you passionate about?

    A: I am deeply passionate about forensic psychology, victim advocacy, and raising awareness around mental health and trauma. Beyond that, I dedicate time to community causes, especially anti-bullying efforts and supporting survivors through storytelling, my passion is fitness and nutrition and adventures.

    Q: If you could ask any author, living or dead, one question, what would it be?

    A: I would ask: How did you stay true to your authentic voice when the world tried to change your story? Because staying true to who you are as a storyteller is the greatest challenge and the greatest triumph. I love Nicholas Sparks he has been a inspiration of mine since I was a child.

    Tina S. Transformation is a compelling voice in psychological thrillers and suspense, known for crafting dark, haunting stories that explore the fragile line between trauma and resilience. With a background in the criminal justice field and forensic psychology, she brings raw authenticity to her work, using fiction to shine light on the hidden corners of the human mind.

    Tina’s Amazon Authors page is here:

    https://www.amazon.com/author/tinastransformation

    If you’re an author working in the speculative fiction field and would like to participate in my weekly Friday’s 5, answer the five questions above and send them to me at rschiver@gmail.com along with an author photo approximately 200px by 200px.

  • Weekly Writing Challenge 09/17/2025

    Weekly Writing Challenge 09/17/2025

    My apologies for missing last week. Was working on my house when I threw out my back, and have spent the past week on a heating pad. I know it’s no excuse, but it’s all I’ve got. Anyway without further adieu let’s get into it. One last thing before we start, many times while writing a story the ending tends to develop beyond what the writer first saw. In the case of this story, not only has the ending changed, but the beginning as well. When the story is done, I’ll share more details, and let everyone get a good look at the updated story.

    Continued!

    Is it the end? Reverend Wickes wondered as he stumbled back from the window. He was filled with a need to hide in the shadows he knew offered little comfort. Bad things hid in the shadows, this he had learned as a child. Wicked things lived in the shadowed places of our world. As the night closed around him, the faint light coming through the window offered little comfort. It revealed a world that had suddenly been turned upon its head. More shouts and gunshots came from outside as he pushed himself back into the corner of the room, his knees growing weak, forcing him to settle to the floor. He pressed his hands over his ears, trying to block out the sounds of a world teetering on the brink of insanity. But all he accomplished was to awaken the inner voice that had been a constant companion his entire life.

    A voice filled with all of the doubts he’d grown familiar with as he moved from childhood through puberty into adolescence before finally emerging into adulthood. Doubts that plagued his nights, keeping sleep at bay as he battled through every imagined slight and insult he believed had been directed at him. He had not felt like this in years, not since graduating from the seminary filled with the righteousness of a man of God.

    It was this virtue that enabled him to carry out his sermons, that enabled him to lock away the voices that questioned every aspect of his life. Every decision, every word he had ever spoken in response to a question, or while just passing the time of the day. Every waking moment was scrutinized and replayed in his mind while he struggled to slip into a dreamless sleep.

    Are they the chosen? Have the dead been called home?

    Am I now immortal? If this was the first resurrection as spoken of in the bible, priests and the righteous followers of God would be granted immortality. The thought came without warning, and he cringed from its presumptive nature. It was not his place to say. He had led a virtuous life save for his constant worry, his never ending doubts about his own worth. Would these doubts be the one thing to keep him from the kingdom of heaven?

    You are not worthy. The thought came in the form of a sweetly sinister voice whispering in his ear. It took him a moment to realize the shadows were indeed speaking to him in a voice he imagined as belonging to the defeated one, the archangel who had been cast down from heaven.

    “I will not be deceived,” he whispered as that voice continued to speak to him with the soft hissing sound of a snake gliding through grass.

    “I will not be deceived,” he said, louder this time, and the voice that had been teasing him softened even more.

    “I will not be deceived!” He shouted as loud as he could and silenced the voice once and for all.

    With this silence came the roar of a raging fire, and he looked at the window where reflected firelight danced across the glass. He crawled across the floor to see what was happening outside. Barrows Saloon was engulfed in towering flames that bathed main street in the light of day. Several people ran down the street, fleeing from a larger group of people who moved in a random, staggering, gait. They moved like a bunch of drunkards celebrating in slow motion.

    To be continued!

    Follow the link to read the whole story up to this point. Weekly Writing Challenge

  • How Music and Writing Connect: Finding Your Flow

    I’m running a little behind right now. Installed a new entry door on my house last week and have been paying for it ever since. My sciatica is kicking my butt and the heating pad has become my best friend. Hopefully soon it will loosen up and I can get back to our normally scheduled programming. My apologies all around.

    I recently found a clip on You Tube taken from the concert film, The Song Remains the Same, a movie released in 1976 that featured the group Led Zeppelin. Filmed during three nights of concerts at Madison Square Garden.

    The clip features the song Stairway to Heaven which has become a classic since it’s release in the early seventies. I grew up listening to groups like Zeppelin, Black Sabbath, Boston, and The Eagles just to name a few. But this was the first time I even saw the guitar solo by Jimmy Paige halfway through the song, and I was blown away.

    In the close up you’ll notice that Jimmy’s eyes are closed as he’s playing. It’s as if he has transcended the mechanical melding of guitar and man, the song no longer coming from the musical score in his head. It is no longer the act of metal strings being strummed while fingers move to the appropriate fret. This goes much deeper than that. In a sense he has become the song itself and what we hear comes from the depths of his soul. Jimmy has entered the zone. If you were to ask him what he was thinking about while he was playing, I’m willing to bet he wouldn’t be entirely sure himself.

    Writers do the same thing when they create. During the initial phase of a story’s creation, after the spark that inspired it. To write that first draft the writer finds it necessary to venture into the zone where all things become possible. In the zone there is no grammar, no punctuation, at least not consciously at first. That will come later, during the many rewrites to polish the story to a hard brilliance. No, during that first stage, the very first time a word intrudes upon the unblemished page, the writer infused with the fever of creation slips into a state of self-hypnosis.

    For some the ability to slip into the zone becomes second nature. As soon as they sit down at their work they enter that altered state. For others it is a struggle to find that quiet room in the mind where all things become possible. Here time has no meaning. The seconds, minutes, and even hours pass unnoticed as the writer becomes wholly focused on that imaginary place they have created in their mind. Where the words flow like the waters of a swift moving river that passes through their consciousness. Dark, deep, and muddied by the swirling emotions that whisper across the page.

    It is only then that the writer is at peace.

  • Upon the Shoulders of Giants.

    From Poe to Carpenter.

    In the early part of the nineteenth century Edgar Allen Poe visited the South Polar Region in his only novel length work titled: The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket. The work relates the tale of the young Arthur Gordon Pym, who stows away aboard a whaling ship aptly named the Grampus. Various adventures and misadventures befall Pym, including shipwreck, mutiny, and cannibalism, before he is saved by the crew of the Jane Guy. Aboard this vessel, Pym and a sailor named Dirk Peters continue their adventures further south. Docking on land, they encounter hostile natives before escaping back to the ocean aboard the Jane Guy bound for regions even further south. The novel ends abruptly as Pym and Peters continue towards that mysterious region around the South Pole.

    It is believed by many that H.P. Lovecraft consciously continued Poe’s tale with his novella, At The Mountains of Madness. That was serialized in Astounding Stories from February to April of 1936. Lovecraft twice cited Poe’s disturbing and enigmatic story in his text, and explicitly borrows the mysterious Tekeli-li cry from Poe’s work. In a letter to August Derleth, Lovecraft wrote that he was trying to achieve with his ending an effect similar to what Poe accomplished in Pym.

    In August 1938 the novella, Who Goes There, by John W Campbell writing under the pen name Don A. Stuart was published in Astounding Stories. John never publicly claimed that his novella, Who Goes There? was intended to show H.P. Lovecraft how to write a story. However, literary critics have frequently drawn comparisons between Campbell’s work and Lovecraft’s earlier novella, At the Mountains of Madness, and have noted fundamental differences in their writing styles.

    The idea of a direct response to Lovecraft is further supported by the rediscovery of Campbell’s longer, unpublished version of the novella, titled Frozen Hell. A reddit user notes that the longer version “reads almost like a direct sequel to HP Lovecraft’s At the Mountains of Madness,” before Campbell shortened it for publication. This suggests that Campbell’s original text had even stronger allusions to Lovecraft’s work

    John Campbell’s story has been adapted for the screen three times. In 1951 as The Thing From Another World, in 1982 as The Thing directed by John Carpenter, and most recently as a prequel to the Carpenter version, also titled The Thing, released in 2011.

    The history of this story inspired me to go one step further. In each of the stories above the alien presence never reaches civilization. Until now. I am nearing completion of my trilogy Shadows of the Past, that I’m working to have ready for release as early as next month, if all things go as planned.

    In Adversary, an ancient alien artifact discovered in Antarctica has a strange effect on anyone who touches it. Stolen to repay a gambling debt the artifact is lost and infects Jack Griffith, a sewer worker dying of cancer. The essence of the creature inhabiting the artifact offers Jack hope for a longer life. But is the price worth paying? Below is the proposed cover for the fist installment.

    A mockup of the proposed cover.