Richard Schiver

Tag: life

  • This week in random ramblings. Back up, Back up, Back up!

    This week in random ramblings. Back up, Back up, Back up!

    For anyone unaware of what is happening I have recently gone through a change of computers. Wednesday before last I got up and hit the power button on my computer as I usually do. It didn’t start. I hit it again with the same results. Of course at this point the panic started to set in. I had some of my work backed up on a thumb drive, but not all of it. Call me old fashioned but I never really trusted cloud storage for backing up my work.

    Long story short I purchased a new computer, using my CC which I didn’t want to do, but what choice did I really have? Everything I had ever written was on that computer, as well as the covers I’ve designed in the past and piles of stock photos purchased over the years from various vendors.

    To give you an idea of how much was there when I finally got my old computer running again and started transferring from my old to my new, there was over 1.5 gigs of writing in 1,036 files spread across 206 folders. The folder I use to hold covers was over 36 gigs. It took me a good week to get everything transferred over.

    I’m the kind of writer who can’t work on just one thing. I’m currently knee deep, about 55,000 words into The Bad Place, a story that loosely continues the saga of Sheriff Paul Odenton who appeared in Cursed (I was warned not to use that title as it would get lost, but I’m stubborn that way. One of these days I’ll change that to The Witch of Porter Mines.)and the second book of my trilogy titled Parasite. I’m a sucker for one word titles.

    I know if I could focus on just one work at a time I’d be a hell of a lot more productive.

    I am also working on and off on an interesting little tale I call Bitter Hollow, that stands at just 50,000 words. I worry I’m not talented enough to complete it the way I see the ending in my mind.

    Then there’s Lair of the Broken Queen, book six of my post apocalyptic series This Lawless Land. I stopped at around 45,000 words as I wasn’t really feeling the story though I know exactly how the series will end. I’m torn between making this the last chapter of the saga, or adding a seventh book.

    It was this last one that caused me the most pain. As I’m transferring everything over using thumb drives I begin to notice that not everything is coming over as it should. Folders half empty and such. One piece of work that vanished was Lair of the Broken Queen. All I had left was the rough outline I wrote back when I started the book two years ago.

    I’ve been through this before, in 2001 I lost everything with a hard drive failure that wiped out over ten years of work in the blink of an eye. Tried having it recovered, but no one could help me. I’ve recreated a lot of the work through memory. My Cursed file was one that vanished and I rewrote the book from memory.

    I have spent the past week poring through my files looking for the missing work. Imaging my relief when I find out I inadvertently saved the file under a different name.

    I’ve bought a number of 64gig thumb drives I’ll use to back up my more important files. I just hope that if and when it happens again, technology has not moved on to the point the thumb drive is useless. Of course the second question would be, will I be around to see it happen. At 66 I’ve entered that stage of life where you have more time behind you than ahead. But that’s a subject for another time and place. Now that I’ve gotten this mess straightened out I can move forward once again.

  • Weekly Writing Challenge 10/22/2025

    Weekly Writing Challenge 10/22/2025

    Contd from last time,

    Approaching the opening, he looked up to see someone had painted the casing around the opening to look like the opened mouth of a skeleton with jagged white teeth prepared to crunch down on any who dared enter.

    He almost turned around right then, but didn’t, more afraid of what Eric might think of him than what might be waiting inside the mine. Unlike many of his other friends, Eric wasn’t into the whole macho scene. He was much more reserved and laid back, exuding this aura of relaxed invincibility that drew people to him like moths to a flame. A far cry from Jared who was socially awkward and lacked the charisma of his friend.

    At the entrance Eric stopped and had a good laugh at the sign someone had spray painted on the casing. The words made Jared want to turn around right then and go back home.

    Abandon all hope, all ye who enters here!

    “I don’t think this is a good idea,” Jared said.

    “It’s just someone’s idea of a joke. Come on man you need to loosen up.”

    “Have you been down here before?”

    Eric shook his head. “This is my first time.”

    “Then how do you know it’s safe?”

    “I just know it is, I’ve got a map. A couple of guys I know who do this all the time gave it to me and told me about the crystal room.”

    “How well do you know these guys?” Jared was searching for any reason he could to back out of this without losing face.”

    “Well enough, they wouldn’t steer me wrong, they’re good guys.”

    “I don’t know, I’d feel better if I could see the map.”

    “I forgot to bring it, but it’s okay, everything will be fine. The chamber is only a few hundred feet away from the end of the mine. It’s a straight shot, we can’t get lost.”

    Jared was about to turn around right then but stopped. This was the chance he’d been looking for. If he went in and word spread about what he’d done his whole life would change. He’d no longer be the afterthought, the last one called, if they called at all. He’d prove to the others he could be just like them.

    “The moment I don’t feel comfortable about this we leave, right?”

    Eric shrugged as he smiled. “You got it bro, the moment you feel afraid we’ll turn around.”

    “That isn’t what I meant.”

    “I know, I’m just giving you a hard time, man, come on let’s get going.”

    Still apprehensive, Jared followed Eric into the shadowy depths of the mine, glancing once at the clear blue sky above before it was replaced by the smooth concrete of the casing.

    Will I see the sky again? He worried as smooth concrete gave way to naked stone carrying the tool marks of those who once toiled in these depths.

    The comforting glow from the sun faded to a deepening gloom and Eric turned on his flashlight as they moved deeper into the mine. Every ten feet ancient timber formed arches that held the roof of the mine in place.

    To be contd!

  • Update 07/10/2025

    On June 24, at approximately 3pm EST, my unconscious body was wheeled into the operating room to have my right knee replaced. That I am here now writing this would indicate I survived my ordeal. In fact, the entire process was nowhere near as frightening as my overactive imagination thought it would be. Thankfully while I was out not a single thought strayed into nightmare territory. Which was one of the things I was really concerned about considering my imagination. Instead, I dreamed I was with the crew of the Black Pearl as we terrorized the British in the Caribbean.

    When they woke me up nearly two hours later the first order of business was getting a cup of coffee. Hadn’t had anything to eat or drink since ten thirty the night before. While I’m gulping down my coffee the nurses kept insisting that I wiggle my toes. They had given me a spinal block before surgery, and I was basically dead from the waist down. It took some time, but as the feeling slowly returned to my legs I was able to wiggle my toes. They then insisted I get up and stand, and while the anesthesia had not worn off completely I was helped to my feet where I stood for about thirty seconds, amazed at the absence of pain coming from my right knee. A pain I had been dealing with for several years and had become so bad in April I was forced to take a personal leave of absence.

    From that point on it became a matter of crossing a few more hurdles before I was released and made it back home a little after eight that evening. A little groggy and battered, but no worse for wear. The first week of recovery moved slowly but as I healed and found myself able to move more freely I settled into a routine focused on getting better. It has now been a little more than two weeks, and while the incision is not pretty, it looks a lot better than it did. I’m no longer using crutches to get around the house and will likely continue to use my cane until I’m released to go back to my little part time job.

    About the only thing to suffer during this time was my writing. Being focused on my recovery interrupted my daily routine. I failed to keep up with the daily sentence for Bitter Hollow, and anything else related to my dream. But I’m back now, and ready to hop into the saddle to continue my pursuit of the perfect story. And to continue to share my work with anyone interested. Thanks for tagging along on my little adventure.

  • Navigating Life’s Paths: From Military to Author

    I grew up during the space race of the sixties. While the war in Vietnam raged my eyes turned to what waited for us beyond the earth’s atmosphere. I was a big fan of Star Trek, catching every new episode when it aired. I followed the moon landing like a religious zealot updating their progress daily as the they traveled to our closest neighbor. My father understood my obsession and on the night the video feed was broadcast live of Neil Armstrong stepping onto the surface of the moon, my father woke me up so we could watch it together.

    My goal in life was to work for NASA, to be involved in some way with the space program. I had the smarts, but for me school was boring. I had been offered a four-year scholarship to the University of Maryland, that I turned down. I wanted to see the world so I joined the military with the intention of learning how to work on missiles, a skill set I believed would put me on a path to NASA.

    Unfortunately, between the moon walk and my graduation from high school, my father became quite ill. He had type 1 diabetes. He always tried taking better care of himself but as was the case with this disease, no matter how hard you tried, it eventually got you. I had spoken to the recruiter about working on missiles, and was scheduled to report to basic in Fort Bliss, Texas for my training. With my dad not working because of his health I chose to go into combat arms, armor to be exact, for the enlistment bonus that would help save our home. Sadly, my dad passed eight months after I joined, and we lost our home a year later.

    While serving I had plenty of time to read, my tastes running to the more macabre as I devoured works by authors like Lovecraft, Richard Matheson, Graham Masterton, William Peter Blatty, to name a few.

    Would I do it differently if I had the chance. I doubt it. I enjoyed my time in the military, the friends I made, the places I saw, the brotherhood I became a part of. It became a big part of who I grew up to become. Who I am now. I know there are many different paths I could have taken to follow my dream, but a new dream emerged for me, one I played around with when I was in high school, and that is to write about the things I love.

    I still dream of going into space. I’ve watched all the movies, good, bad, indifferent. Alien, Start Wars, War of the Worlds, Interstellar, The Right Stuff, Armageddon. You name it, I’ve probably watched it. I also play a game called No Man’s Sky on my xbox. It gives me a chance to pretend, if only for a little while, that I’m exploring space. Here’s a little clip from gameplay.

    I’ve had many false starts with my writing, but now, at 66, I’m fully committed to finishing what I started to do. You may have noticed I’m now sharing a new sentence every day from my WIP I’ve titled Bitter Hollow. I do hope you’ll follow along. Here’s the link.

    https://richardschiver.com/my-journey-with-bitter-hollow-a-work-in-progress/

    Thanks for stopping by and listening to me rambling. I hope I haven’t bored you too much. Drop a comment below if your so inclined, I’d love to hear from you. I’d also appreciate a like, or a follow on social media.

    Thanks,

    Richard Schiver