Monday Motivations

Monday Motivations; Getting Back On the Horse

Hello friends and welcome to another winter blasted week of writing.

Well, it finally happened. After 28 straight days, I (unintentionally) broke my blog streak. I mean, I feel like I had an okay reason. I caught my daughter’s cold and was almost completely incapacitated with a headache that would not go away even with jamming extra strength Motrin down my throat, but I can’t help but feel a little bit disappointed that I didn’t open my computer once and put together what is, after all, the easiest blog I do every week: the Weekly Writing Roundup.

(Holy run on sentence Batman.)

That disappointment, coupled with the lingering headache, terrible battle with insomnia (partially thanks to said headache, running on 90 minutes of sleep rip), a winter storm that has put my entire metro area on edge, and just some general malaise has me really having to willpower my way back into a routine. Sure, it would be nice to call it a self-care day and leave it at that, but I’m already at work anyway so I may as well take advantage of what time I have available to get myself back in the swing of things.

So, while it’s a bummer that my blog streak came to an end, I’m not going to let it ruin the momentum I built in those four weeks. I’m gonna keep it rolling. And that’s my motivation this week.

Kerry Share

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Drabble Rock

The Ballad of Mercy May #0027


the flag flapping in the wind catches her eye. Over the top of the crest is a phrase, perhaps the motto for the city.

May Mercy Ever Find A Home Here

“M-Mercy,” the woman says quickly, aware of the men’s scrutiny.

Mercy, repeats the entity in her head. A fine a name as any. It will do you credit.

“Mercy, aye?” Says the old guard. “Mercy what?”

“May,” says the woman promptly. “Mercy May.”

It says something about the Pale City that neither man seem to take note of the uncanny similarity their guest’s name has to the words sewn


Fiction Friday

Fiction Friday; Black Sun

This Week’s Read: Black Sun by Rebecca Roanhorse

Percent Read: 9%

Thoughts So Far: I’m intrigued! I’d started this book last year (I think? time has no meaning anymore) but I didn’t get very far before I set it aside. I wouldn’t say I deliberately DNFed it, because there wasn’t any specific reason I stopped reading it. I just… did. That said, I’m feeling more enthused about it now than I did the first time around so I’m optimistic I’ll get through it. Which is good because I’ve heard nothing but good things about this book.

This week ended up taking a turn thanks to another bout of illness running through my household (including yours truly), so I’m behind on my reading. But that’s okay! I’ve already read more this year than I did at this time last year, so I’ll call that a win.

Thursday Words, Uncategorized

The Chain

Hello friends and welcome to another less-than-ideal edition of Just Another Struggling Writer. I’m just another struggling writer.

Friends, I don’t know if you have noticed, but I am not a perfect writer. Brave of me to reveal this publicly, I know, but I must speak my truth as I live it. Yes, its true, there are times when I find it difficult to sit down and write. Unfortunately for me, one of those situations is literally any time I am in my house.

Home Is Where The Black Hole of Motivation Is

I have a moderately stressful day job. I prefer not to get into the details, but it requires more emotional labor than the average profession. Though I love what I do, it is often a strain on my mental resources. My job is part of the reason why I absolutely have to have time every day to decompress and destress from work.

This has ultimately led to the deeply engrained mindset that my home is the place I go to not work. When I get home after a long day at my day job, plus extra curricular activities, oh and don’t forget dinner, dishes, laundry, and cleaning up that thing my dog just shredded, sitting down in my recliner, even if my laptop is right there next to me, my brain automatically switches into leisure mode. Its almost Pavlovian at this point.

However, as we all know, writing is also work. It requires mental energy, focus, and stamina — things that tend to be in short supply after, well, *gestures above* Not writing when I get home isn’t even necessarily about the myriad distractions at my disposal (although they certainly play a part), its about breaking out of the mental feedback loop of home = not work.

I’ve tried a couple of different ways to fix this. I’ve tried writing in the mornings before work (a Herculean effort for a lifelong night owl), I’ve tried carving out a space to treat as a home office (which was just a nook in my bedroom, and you can see how that would cause motivation issues), I’ve tried Pomodoros (“I’ll just work for twenty minute and then get a little five minute break for video games as a treat”).

You might be wondering to yourself, if I struggle so much to write at home how in the hell do I get any writing done at all?

Well. Truth be told, about 80% of the writing I do, blogs and drabbles included, I do at work.

Kerry, you might be saying to yourself, what??

Its true. I use the creases in my work day to write. I bring my notebook with me and leave it open on the desk next to me. When I have a few moments, I jot down a sentence or two. When I have dedicated breaks, I drabble or blog. My lunch is spent with the WordPress app open on my phone. During the commute, I’ll talk to text ideas to myself. Because I find it so difficult to write at home, I have found ways to sneak in creativity throughout my day.

This extends not just to work, however. My favorite place to write is my daughter’s gymnastics practice. I get one hour uninterrupted, with the only distraction the occasional outbreak of applause when a gymnast sticks a landing. I’ve also started working at my other daughter’s guitar lesson. I’ve even brought my notebook along to my son’s allergy shots, because we are required to wait half an hour afterward before we can leave.

Anywhere I have a few minutes, I use it. As long as I’m not at home.

If that seems not ideal to you, well, you’d be right, its not. Because, while my method works to an extent, if I find myself at home unexpectedly for any reason (like today, home with a sick kid), every last iota of production goes right in the toilet. I have to make a concerted effort to do even the bare minimum *coughlikethisblogcough* Weekends, what should be my peak writing days, are, you know, not. Bank holidays? Don’t get me started.

Druthers, Druthers Everywhere

It seems to me that in a perfect world, I would find a place I could go after my kids went to bed where I could put my earbuds in and just buckle down and write. There’s a library literally right across the street from where I live, but they close at eight. There’s a Starbucks down the street, but that closes even earlier. Deep in suburbia, it seems that there is just no good place for a writer who prefers to work in a public environment late at night.

However, part of me knows that even if such a place did exist within a reasonable distance from my home I wouldn’t actually utilize it. Because once I get home, once I sit down… its all over man.

So, what I actually need to do is just get over myself and do the work, even if there’s a basketball game on. Even if the latest Final Fantasy XIV patch just released. Even if Twitter has some amazing discourse I want to watch go down. I don’t need to push myself past my limits, of course, that’s a short road to potentially long term burnout. But, on days — like today — where I’m just sitting at home anyway, I need resist the urge to take a second nap, to open my Steam library, to make excuses not to write.

I don’t think it’ll be easy. Changing something so deeply engrained never is. But, earlier today I was standing at my sink doing some dishes and thinking about how much of a bummer it would be to let my 25-day blogging streak come to an end just because of a stupid habit of needing to preserve my home as a non-working space. So, as soon as I finished up, I walked to my computer, and I opened WordPress.

The desire to keep the chain going was enough to kick my ass into gear.

Now, if I can just start a chain for writing 3 pages a day, regardless of where I’m at, I might actually be a little less of a struggling writer.

That’s all from me this time. I’ll be home again tomorrow it looks like, so if I can keep the streak going despite the significant disruption to my routine, I’ll allow myself a little pride. See you then!

Kerry Share

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Drabble Rock

The Ballad of Mercy May #0026



“Alright, curse you, alright,” the old guard at last relents. “If it’ll keep you from pissing yourself, I’ll find out what she’s called, aye?” He turns back to the woman, who has since struggled to her feet just in case she needs to make a run for it — though where she would go she hasn’t the faintest idea. “What’s your name girl? Nils here needs to hear it, else he won’t be able to sleep tonight. Come on, then, what’s your name?”

She wishes she had one to give. “I — I’m,” she stammers, unsure of what to say. Overhead,


Drabble Rock

Drabble Rock; January 24th, 2023


Marceline despised him.

She knew such a hateful emotion was unbecoming of a lady of her stature, and she took care never to give it voice. Her feeling for him was irrelevant anyway. He was Nar’s premiere breeding expert, and all noble families courted his good opinion as if he were the Prince himself.

He came round once a year to comment on the shape of Marceline’s ears, the length of her torso and legs, the youthfulness in her face, all to her mother’s rapturous delight.

Marceline was not complimented. To the contrary, she felt rather like a prized hog.

Monday Motivations

Monday Motivations; A Bump In the Road

Hello friends and welcome to another wintery week of writing.

Alright, I’ll admit it. I’ve been slacking the last few days writing wise. I’d like to think I have a good reason. I sometimes foster dogs through my local animal shelter, and on Thursday we took in a very sweet but skittish boy. Settling him in has been a task. He’s not sleeping through the night just yet, and we’ve been testing various sleeping arrangements the last three days. All of them have seen me spend at least part of the night on the couch. (Pet tax below.)

So, I’ve been, uh, a bit of a zombie to say the least (today included). Words have been thin on the ground since Thursday, and it’s given me a sort of creative atrophy. Like, I just can’t seem to get up for my WIP, despite finally hitting the end of the first act, something that has felt like it took for-freaking-ever.

But it’s Monday now, and time to get back to the routine. There are just eight short days left in January and I’m well short of my 500 words a day goal (to say nothing of the 1000 words a day I once aspired to). It’s still very achievable, but taking more time off to dither and snooze isn’t an option.

I’m so indescribably proud of myself for the habits I have begun to build this far this year. I’m not going to let a little fatigue related writers block set me back.

In an acronym, LFG!

Pet tax.

Kerry Share

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Weekly Writing Roundup; January 16 – 22







Drabble Rock

The Ballad of Mercy May #0025


description, though she can hardly deny it’s accuracy. She wants to deny that she is there to cause any trouble (leading a pack of darkwolves to their doorstep notwithstanding), but she keeps her silence. The old guard is doing a fine enough job arguing her case, and she doesn’t need to draw any more unwanted attention to herself.

“This girl,” Nils replies, sneering the word disdainfully, “just outran a whole pack of demons. Hardly the waif you’re so desperately making her out to be. We don’t know where she came from, why she’s here… Dammit, we don’t even know her


Fiction Friday

Fiction Friday; The Road to Hell

I had done what I had for the right reasons. If not for the lie, we wouldn’t have marched out to protect the empire at all.

We Ride the Storm by Devin Madson

It took a little longer than I would like, but I finally finished We Ride the Storm by Devin Madson. Though I really enjoyed the first half, I feel like the latter 50% fell off. The three different storylines became kind of tedious and predictable by the end, and none of the mysteries laid out were even remotely answered. The ending I felt extremely meh about, but there was something else that bothered me about the whole book.

A lot of the culture depicted in the story felt heavily Asian appropriated, even while it centered white coded characters. Madson is a white woman, so this came across as, well, gross. I understand that Madson originally self published, before getting picked up for trad pub, but I have a hard time believing this was given a sensitivity read at any point in the process when it really could have used one.

I don’t know that I’ll continue with this series. I just feel… sort of underwhelmed. The first half had a lot of promise that the second didn’t quite live up to, and the lead to the sequel just doesn’t seem interesting to me.

All told I’d give it 3 out of 5.

Next up on my TBR: Black Sun by Rebecca Roanhorse. I’ve got quite a bit of catching up to do, so I better get to it. Ta!

Kerry Share

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