Tag Archives: Fear

Fear creeping in…

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I have this story, I believe I mentioned it on Wednesday. I haven’t written a novel-length story in a while. It’s freaking me out to have a story developing in my head this quickly. It usually takes a while, or at least until I’ve started for the story to lead me to places. This story hasn’t done that. It’s making me reevaluate how I write.

I’ve always written horror as a pantser. Well, mostly a pantser. I may write down scenes or sections that I know are coming later. This story is coming to me all at once. I’ve taken notes in my head. I know they haven’t gone anywhere. They’re there as I write this. I know the start, and parts of the middle, but it’s the other parts. The parts that are fully formed that I’m tripping over. I mean tripping as one does on LSD. It’s freaking me out.

I have moments of this story in my head. They won’t be quiet and I’ve lost sleep the last couple of nights over it. I wanted to do an outline for this one. I had intended to do that. As I write these words, this story is pushing me to get it down. I feel how I felt three years ago when I wrote Disunion, in which I wrote all 100k in a little over a month.

This story feels like that. I will probably start on it Monday. It’s taken me a week to get to this point. I know where the story goes it’s about getting to the end now.

I hope you’ll follow my blog. I feel better about it now. I feel better now.

Disconnected

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The most difficult part of figuring out what I’m going to write is considering where I’d like to go. Do I want to be challenged? Do I need something else?

I found writing Disunion easy. Writing horror and getting it correct, that feels difficult. I’d rather challenge myself than not.

I’m working on a collection with a theme but and idea that came to me last night may change that.

I’m going back to horror knowing that I have a lot of work to do. This is not going to be easy but I’ll keep my head down and keep going.

Have a pleasant Monday.

Getting better…

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I’ve fought with my stomach, my mind, and my temper over the last week. I’m winning the battles, but the war continues.

I started writing a new story today. I don’t know where it came from, as I often never do, but it’s words, and I’m grateful for them. I’ve barely written since my time in the hospital and while I’m working to get better I’m also struggling to maintain my writing.

I took a hit to my mind, my body, and a bit of fear crept in. I’ve never spent time in the hospital. It was a new experience for me and I didn’t much care for it. I’ve always been relatively healthy and spending 48 hours in the hospital, mostly alone, did some damage. You can only watch so much bullshit TV without wanting to pluck your eyes from you school. I’m just glad they gave my plastic spoons for my meals.

Writing post-hospital is difficult. I’m on some new medication for depression and anxiety. It’s something I’ve needed to do for a while, but held off. I reached a point of needing that help while in the hospital. It wasn’t an epiphany, but a realization of sorts.

I’ve struggled with depression most of life and getting better is part of our journey as humans. I have to get better for me. That started with taking something for my anxiety and depression. I’m moving onto the next part, stay with me.

Writing horror is challenging for me. I grew up watching horror. I read a little bit growing up, but I mostly read Tom Clancy style thrillers. Which is why my most recent novel is a thriller in that vein.

Horror feels difficult to me. Maybe it’s because I watched more than I read growing up. I’ve worked to fix that as I grew older. I’m working on a few projects and I’ll put them up in the next couple of months.

I hope you’ll follow along as I make my way and get better.

Not sure where this is going.

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Over the last few weeks, I’ve thought about where I’m going with my writing. What am I doing right? What am I doing wrong?

I don’t have answers to either of those questions. I feel I put in enough time editing than I used to. I feel I’ve worked hard to overcome many of my crutch issues.

I submit when I see a call that a story will fit with. I work on my craft by reading books on writing and reading all genres of books. I’m thinking of stepping away to work on something else. Myself.

I have a novella out on submission and a thriller novel that I’ll be submitting in August, but after writing 13 novels and novellas, I’m not enjoying this. I write daily because that’s the deal my wife and I made when we left Las Vegas.

I would write and bartend a few days to make ends meet.

Anymore, I wonder if I’m helping her out enough. If I’m helping my kids enough.

Am I doing everything I can to make them happy?

There’s one thing about this I haven’t put forward often. Am I doing enough to make myself happy?

I don’t usually think about this. I used to put myself before anyone. That came from having the biological father I did. He always put himself first. I did that for years. I’ve worked hard to not be that way, but I think something was lost.

I think more about making others happy and not myself. I worry about whether others are getting what they need. I never consider what I need. It just doesn’t feel like I’m as important as everyone else. Maybe that has to do with my childhood, I’m not sure. I know this mentality has screwed up how I view my writing life.

I’m leaning towards getting the thriller submitted and seeing how it goes. Afterward, I’ll reevaluate my writing and whether I’ll write to submit, which is what I’ve done for the last seven years.

I have my story collection on Amazon and wish it would do well, but it hasn’t. After two years on Amazon and other places, I may pull it after it goes through its cycle on KU.

Today I finished a story, and it’s brutal and destructive. I don’t know what I’ll do with it right now. Probably keep it with the rest of my stories on my hard drive. I’ve worked hard on these stories. I’d like someone else to enjoy them.

I’m beginning to think I missed the turnoff somewhere. I don’t know where to go from here.

F This and Getting It Right

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I’m trying to get my head right.

These last three months have challenged me in ways I never thought possible.

I’m reevaluating where my energy goes. I’d put a lot of it into social media, at least in TikTok and I’m feeling like that’s been part of my problem. I took the app off of my phone and will only look at it on my desktop or laptop.

I started working on Tim Waggoner’s new Writing in the Dark Workbook yesterday. I’m feeling better about my writing while making my way through the exercises, which is more than I’ve been able to say in months. The book is fantastic and while this isn’t a review for it, I think it’s as good if not better than the original book.

I believe a perfect storm happened over the last three months and staring at TikTok as much as I have screwed with my head. I used it to dull my senses about everything else that happened.

This is something I used to do with alcohol but having given up alcohol I needed to find something else to dull me. Social media is a good drug, but its after-effects are a bitch.

I need a middle ground on all of this and I’m having trouble finding it. I know my post the other day probably freaked a few people out. It’s been a hard three months.

I’ll be offline for everything this next week as I travel to Disneyland to celebrate my son’s graduation from high school. I intend to get back to writing as my head feels clearer than it has in months. I’m not sure what caused it, but I’m not sure I’ll be using TikTok anymore.