Tag Archives: motivation

Catching the failure bug

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The problem of being an unpublished writer it there isn’t a metric of comparison. I can’t compare myself to my writing idols, they have something I don’t.

This weekend, after I reconciled with myself about my actions, I thought about my work ethic.

Have I been working hard enough to get published? Am I focusing properly? Is there something more I could be doing?

I realized there are a few things I’m not doing and some I’m not doing enough of. There are streams of sunlight at the end of each storm, but we tend to think of the storm, what it did, how it wrecked us, but we don’t think about the clean up. We’re too focused on the storm.

The storm struck me this past weekend. It made me question my writing, it made me question myself.

For me and my struggles with depression, this is a dangerous road to travel. Much like sandbags along a river, I have to set up markers and ways to stop the progress of doubt and feelings the stop or hinder me.

These markers usually work, but this one, it’s taking things away from me.

I’m working to get through it. I stare at the keys when I’m writing and wonder if I should keep going. I get words, but are they good enough?

I feel my writing is good. I’ve improved greatly over the last eighteen months. But the doubt crept in. The sandbags filled with water and the dam broke.

Life tosses us through the storm, the sandbags break, the water spills over the dam, but we keep going because that’s who we are and that’s what we do.

But sometimes, the dam breaking hurts. It causes us to question where we’re going.

I’m struggling a bit this week. It’s been a while since I have, but putting it on the page for the world to see and for the world to know helps me get through it.

When people you don’t know support you…

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During my bartending event on Wednesday night I had someone I’d only met tell me, “Keep going with that writing and stay focused on it.”

I don’t get that kind of support from family and here was this guy, I’d only met an hour ago, telling me this.

There are people in this world who get it. They understand what you’re trying to do, and why.

Sometimes they are few and far between but they are there.

Now that we’re at The halfway point of the year I can look back and say I’ve done some great things to improve my self and my writing.

The former is supposed to spelled that way.

I have worked on avoiding anger, people who disrupt my work, and those who see what I’m doing as a dream that will never happen.

I work hard on writing, my self, and who I want to be.

This man saw that and I thanked him for it.

Have a great weekend, I’ll be spending it watching my amazing niece get married.

Finding hope, and the motivation to write…

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I missed posting on Wednesday. There were issues and I had things to deal with.

Life comes at us hard when we’re not expecting it. It will punish us. Make us feel like we’re worthless and keep kicking until we can’t breath.

This punishment can be brought on by our actions, our inactions, or by not paying attention to our own thoughts.

Our own thoughts will beat us worse than 3 rounds in the octagon. It will take what we believe tear it apart and leave us asking how it happened.

Getting through that pain is the hardest thing we will do in our lives.

I’ve dealt with the loss of my brother, my father-in-law, who I felt close to, and the pain my mind inflicted on my felt worse.

Your mind will torture you, call you names, and when you think it’s done, it’s back for another helping of tossing you bullshit to doubt yourself.

That doubt will sink your dreams, your marriage, and any friendships you’ve created.

The only way through is to have a belief in your goals stronger than the bullshit in your head.

That belief will get you past the loss of anything. It will guide you in the darkest night and be the light to lead you.

This week has been one of reevaluation, digging in when I didn’t think I could go deeper, and trusting the process when I wanted to quit.

I really thought about giving up on writing this week. I hate to struggle and I feel like I’m struggling, not with writing but with life. I know it will get better but right now, staring at nearly nine unpublished books, it’s hard to be confident.

I’ll be pushing harder to get things published this summer and I’ll keep you posted but damn, I’m struggling to keep writing and it has nothing to do with the words.

I’m averaging 1500 words a day, reaching g 2700 words or more on some day.

Have to keep going.

Realizing when to give up on a story.

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I hate giving up on a book. I really, really hate it!

I often wonder if I’ve hit a wall? Did I write something that screwed up the story? Did I do something to the characters that doesn’t work?

That’s when I go back and read what I’ve written, trying to find breadcrumbs leading me to the problems.

Sometimes there are no problems and the story ran its course or my brain doesn’t know where the hell to go.

This week the former happened.

The story I’m 22k into stopped. I don’t know why it stopped. I read through the previous sections looking for those breadcrumbs. They were nowhere.

Then I got a little depressed.

I haven’t written a novel yet this year and I keep thinking something is wrong with me or my brain because of it. I mean my creative brain not the literal grey matter.

I got a the place I don’t like being at.

Do I continue with this story, focus on improving parts of my writing by writing short stories or do I try my hand at another long form story?

So I did something I rarely do; I let my wife read a couple of sections.

I only do this on the rarest of stories and only if I really want the story to succeed.

Which I truly want with this story.

She gave me ideas on what to change, things to add and said she thought I had some good writing, which she doesn’t say often. But when she does, it makes me feel better about the story.

So after getting a little depressed I’m continuing with the project.

Why I love writing horror.

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This post goes to the heart of who I am as a person.

For as a long as I can remember I’ve loved horror. I read a few books when I was younger, but horror movies fueled my childhood.

I watched Children of the Corn and Halloween when I was eight.

In my teen years, my father wasn’t home quite a bit and I would stay up and watch horror movies on HBO, Cinemax, and Showtime.

He wouldn’t let me get horror books when we’d go to the book store so I watched a lot of the movies.

As I grew up I loved to be scared and I remember my dad taking me to see “A Nightmare on Elm Street: Freddy’s Dead.”

It was the first time I saw a horror movie on the big screen and parts of it were in 3D.

My biological father would never have taken me to see it but my dad, he’s always been cool that way.

I love to be scared and when I was able to buy my own books I devoured them. Clive Barker’s Books of Blood is a favorite.

Recently, my wife and I would read horror, then trade books and have a discussion about them.

I came to writing horror and dark fantasy because I enjoy being scared.

It took me a long time, my wife and mom would say too long, to accept that I’m a horror and fantasy writer.

Sometimes, as a writer we deny who we are because we’re afraid of judgment. But the only one who can judge us is ourselves.

Be free to write what you enjoy and don’t let what anyone thinks about what you write or create make you feel bad.

It’s your art, enjoy it!

Happy writing!