Richard Schiver

Tag: short stories

  • Fridays 5 with Eric A Shelman

    Fridays 5 with Eric A Shelman

    1 When did you first consider yourself a writer?

    A. In 1992, I sold a short story called The Crossing for $2.00. That was the moment I felt I was a writer.

    2 What is the hardest part of writing?

    A. The hardest thing about being a writer is finding the right story. A story you’re not excited about will not inspire you to write.

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

    A. At the completion and release of my first full-length book, it was a major milestone … a hump that once you’re over, the floodgates open and the next and the next are easier.

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

    A. My band, The Mood Zombies. Check us out at http://www.reverbnation.com/themoodzombies

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

    A. I don’t really have any questions for other authors anymore. Not after 26 books!

    Eric lives in southwest Florida with his wife, Linda. A fan of horror since he was young, he’s been writing since his teens. Growing up his room was filled with monster models, including The Wolfman, Dr. Phibes, Frankenstein’s Monster, and many others. His first novel, A Reason To Kill, was about a serial killer before he moved on to his true passion with The Witches of Laguna Beach. In 2009, after a 12 year hiatus, he wrote Dead Hunger. He currently has over 20 books to his credit, all but two of which are novels.

    Eric can be found online at his amazon author page

    He also shares his stories on his You Tube channel.

  • Weekly Writing Challenge 10/29/2025

    Weekly Writing Challenge 10/29/2025

    While working on today’s episode yesterday morning the purpose of the story presented itself to me. Quite frankly I can write novels easier than I can write short stories, hence the reason I started doing this challenge. To force me to buckle down and work on a short story until it was done. I chose to follow the alphabet format and have completed the first drafts of stories up to the letter G. As time allows I work on rewrites and edits of the past stories as I try to whip them into some semblance of a real story worth a read. One of these days I’ll release them for everyone to read.

    Without further adieu let’s get into the continuing saga of Jared and Eric in Hell Hole.

    Story begins where it left off.

    They didn’t look sturdy enough to support the weight pressing down upon them, and it appeared the wood had rotted away on the surface, making them half the size they had originally been.

    “You know why they call it hell hole?” Jared asked.

    Eric shrugged. “Rumor has it the mine went so deep you had to be careful which way you swung your pick.” He stopped as he maneuvered around an old coal car whose steel sides had rusted away to nothing, leaving a flat surface covered in debris.

    Eric pushed past the coal car, coming to a section of tunnel that appeared much older than what they passed through earlier. Here the jagged walls and ceiling were brown and in some places water leaked through the various cracks and crevices that covered the entire surface, filling the space with the incessant sound of dripping water.  It looked like the entire ceiling was about to collapse and he wanted to turn around right then and there.

    He was beginning to get irritated with Jared’s endless whining. If he didn’t need him as bad as he did he would never have spoken to him. He was no more than a means to an end, that of his continued survival. Promises had been made, so promises had to be kept.

    “Why?” Jared asked.

    With a deep sigh Eric turned back to face him and when he did he was struck by a deep anger at the lengths he had to go to. “Because you might hit the devils door,” he replied with a laugh.

    “That’s not funny,” Jared said, turning in a complete circle as if he were afraid someone, or something, were sneaking up on him.

    “Come on, let’s go, you said you wanted to see this room of crystals.” Eric turned and started walking into the depths of the mine. He heard Jared scrambling to get around the abandoned coal car.

    “Wait for me,” Jared said as he rushed to keep up.

    Eric smiled, satisfied he had set the hook firmly. Once they got deeper into the mine Jared would be attached to his hip, which was just as well, he didn’t want him wandering off until he’d gotten what he came for.

    The mine had operated from the mid seventeen hundred until 1890 when a cave in sealed off the lower portion of the mine, opening the passageway to the r0om of crystals. They called them the devil’s jewels, locked away deep beneath the earth.

    The miners of the time had been very superstitious, in addition to being God fearing men. But when the only exit from a mine collapses, and God does little to save you, promises made to others became sacred vows.

    Eric had learned all of this from his research into the mine when he first heard about the crystal room. Sure, he was an explorer willing to take chances, but they were calculated risks made only after he was certain about the facts. He had visited the crystal room himself, along with the mouth of the section of the mine where the collapse occurred. Someone had placed a plaque nearby listing the names of the men entombed within. It was rumored if you listened closely you could still hear panicked pounding coming from the other side.

    To be continued!

    Join my readers group!

    Four boys become trapped in their apartment building in the opening days of the zombie apocalypse. Together with a small group of survivors they struggle to survive. It’s not long before they learn their real enemy is in the building with them.

    Sign up today for my readers group and get an entire novel only available to subscribers. Every month you will receive an email containing either an edited short story from my writing challenge, or a chapter from a work in progress.

    Sign up Here!

  • Why Human Creativity Matters in Writing

    Why Human Creativity Matters in Writing

    Artificial intelligence has already entered the realm of writing. From generating articles to crafting emails and even composing poetry. AI promises efficiency and convenience. As the technology becomes even more accessible, we need to stop and ask ourselves. Should we rely on AI for our reading entertainment? The answer, for many passionate writers and readers alike, is a resounding no.

    Writing is much more than stringing words together. It’s about sharing one’s thoughts, their emotions, and their unique worldview. AI tools, no matter how sophisticated, lack empathy and experience. Their output is based on algorithms and databases of existing content. Not personal insights or original perspectives. When we turn to AI for our writing needs, we risk losing the authentic voice that makes each one of us unique. We lose the depth of human storytelling, nuanced humor, and cultural context.

    AI can analyze trends and generate text that fits a given mold. But genuine creativity, the spark that inspires our ideas and our literary works cannot be replaced by machines. The best writing often comes from past experiences that form unexpected associations, emotional depth, and a willingness to challenge the norms. When we substitute human creativity for AI-generated content, we sacrifice innovation and the possibility of pushing boundaries. The world needs new ideas, not endless rehashes of what already exists.

    Using AI in writing raises important ethical questions. Who owns the content produced by the algorithms? Is it honest to present computer-generated work as our own? Additionally, the spread of AI-written content threatens to undermine trust in published materials, making it harder to distinguish between genuine expertise and synthesized output. For students, professionals, and writers alike, this blurring of lines can have significant consequences for credibility and accountability.

    Ultimately, writing should remain a human endeavor. By resisting the urge to delegate this creative task to AI, we preserve our unique voice, foster innovation, and maintain ethical standards. Technology can support the writing process, but it should never replace the irreplaceable value of human authorship.

    What are your thoughts in using AI to write?

  • Fridays 5 with Justin Boote

    Fridays 5 with Justin Boote

    1) When did you first consider yourself a writer?

    A. I would say that I considered myself a writer after I’d written the first 5 stories or so and joined a writing forum to learn more about the craft. Also, when I had my first story accepted for publication some 5 years ago, this helped cement that belief!

    2) What is the hardest part of writing?

    A. For me the hardest part of writing is not so much the editing stage anymore, but probably trying to turn a rough idea into a full, original story. I have lots of little thoughts and ideas for stories but to give them original twists or make them a little different to what I’ve written or read before is the challenge. I’ve written close to 200 short stories by now so that challenge is ever more difficult!

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

    A. Coinciding with my answer to question no.1, I would say it made me feel that maybe I was capable of writing something that not only people enjoy reading but that publishers are prepared to pay for. That made a big difference as opposed to just hearing friends tell you they love your work. It was a confirmation of sorts.

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

    A. Aside from writing, I do very little else! I’ve loved soccer since I can remember-my team being Liverpool F.C., but also anything related to horror, be it movies, books, whatever. And very possibly a minor addiction to Candy Crush! Other than that, my time is mostly spent writing the next novel.

    5) If you could ask any author, living or dead, one question, what would it be? A. The one thing I’ve always wanted to ask Stephen King for example is how they would go about things today with how big and easy self-publishing has become. Still continue submitting to publishers or go the self-publishing route?

    Justin Boote is a 49-year-old Englishman living in Barcelona, author of dark, horror fiction. Having spent 5 years writing short stories, he now dedicates his time to writing novels. To date he has published around 16 novels, and 3 short story collections, all of which can be found on Amazon and KU.

    Justin’s Amazon author page: https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B073Q44SZP

    If you write in the horror, sci-fi, or fantasy genres and would like to participate answer the five questions above and send them to me at rschiver@gmail.com include a brief bio and author photo. Thanks,

  • 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!