Drabble Rock

Drabble Rock, Week 8


captivate


“Marvelous,” said Lord Conteville and he swept forward to greet Marceline, planting sloppy, wine-soaked kisses on each cheek. “Simply captivating, my dear. I daresay you have caught the eye of every eligible man here. And some ineligible, I might add.” He chortled at his own little joke, while Marceline watched, smiling politely, though, privately, she could not say she was as pleased as her great uncle was. She was there, after all, enjoying the attentions of the great and the good of Nar as a result of her mother’s careful social maneuvering, not through any real desire of her own.

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Monday Motivations

Monday Motivations; Nine of Wands

Hello friends and welcome to another wacky week of writing.

Friends, I come to you this morning with quite a few balls in the air. In addition to my World Con-turned-staycation starting this week, I also am preparing for the official launch of my very own Patreon page. I’m also still hard at work on my current romance novella, due in a week and a half, and have two new pitches to prepare. Also drabbles and fantasy writing. And blogging. And sleeping somewhere in there too.

Phew.

Overwhelming as that all sounds (and feels), there is something sort of gratifying about having such a full plate. I am moving into the next stage of my growth (and/or career) as a writer and that is something to be proud of. Even celebrate.

Later though, I don’t have time to celebrate now.

In addition to all those tangible goals and tasks I have this week, I’m going to add one more mental one: stay focused, don’t procrastinate, and work hard. This is what I signed up for and I’m not going to waste this moment in time.

Wish me luck friends!

Kerry Share

Twitter | Instagram | Ko-Fi

Drabble Rock

The Ballad of Mercy May; 0007

Previous


all she knows, she could be headed right for the creature’s lair.

The realization strains her already flagging stamina. Her legs aching from the effort, her lungs burning for want of air, her mind lost and confused in more ways than one, the woman starts to slow.

As if sensing her weakness, the monster pursuing her lets out a roar of triumph. The woman does not need to look over her shoulder to know it has put on a burst of speed for this last leg of the pursuit… but she does anyway. What she sees is more horrifying than


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Thursday Words

Why Not?

Hello friends and welcome to another fanciful edition of Just Another Struggling Writer. I’m just another struggling writer. 

Friends, I am in full bounce-back mode after a difficult freelance period that saw a depressive episode, a serious crunch to meet a deadline, and the start of school for my three young kids. I am full of vim, vigor and a veritable wellspring of energy and ideas. 

If you’re a regular reader of this blog, you probably know that more often than not my worst enemy when it comes to realizing my ambitions is, well, me. Or, more specifically, what I like to call my anxiety brain. 

Whenever I stumble upon a new idea or decide spur of the moment to launch a new project, the moments thereafter are often rife with anxiety-brain. You don’t have enough energy, time, or stamina for something like this is one of the least offensive things it tells me. You’re going to get 10% of the way into it and give up. And, historically, that’s been true. 

But, last night, after writing a page in my cozy fantasy draft, adding another 100 words to The Ballad of Mercy May, and getting to work on my latest romance novella for Scribd, it occurred to me like a bolt from the blue that the real reason I struggle to write consistently, complete projects, and grow myself as a writer with the intention of being a full time author is actually fear

What for the longest time I thought was burn out or sheer laziness when it came to my creative endeavors was a pervasive fear that they would never amount to anything. The anxiety that I was spending so much time and energy on something that would not sustain me, not just financially but spiritually as well, has poisoned my creative well for so long I no longer recognized it as artificial. 

More succinctly, I think I’ve been struggling to meaningfully commit myself to writing as a career I aspire to because I’m afraid I will fail.

Slowly, but surely, over the last 18 months I have subconsciously been at war with that misguided instinct, and, to be sure, I’ve made strides. I dove headlong into romance writing despite telling myself at every step of the process that I’m not good enough and I’ll be turned away. I launched two drabble projects last month just for the hell of it. 

But I’ve also started and shelved two fantasy projects. I’ve taken weeks off at a time from my personal writing. I’ve made up excuses as to why I’m not writing today, or why now is the right time for that idea. I’ve even very, very seriously considered giving up on writing entirely. More than once. 

Last night, I did something kind of crazy and possibly doomed for failure. Its pretty personal, so I won’t get into it here, but it was emblematic of my writing life as well and it was predicated on one simple question posed to myself: why not? 

Why not research what it would take to open an indie book store? Why not launch a podcast to review fantasy novels? Why not take on more projects than there are time for in a day or even week???

Goals.

In all seriousness, though, why not? What do I have to lose? Why not just… try?

After all, I may just surprise myself. In fact I’m counting on it.


In that spirit, just one last thing…

That’s right, folks, the exclusivity period for my romance novellas under Scribd is starting to lapse for my first few releases, which means I am entitled to share them with non-subscribers. If you are a romance fan or want to support my work, please consider becoming a patron when I launch next week.

Until then, my friends, may your writing be plenty and your struggles be few.

Kerry Share

Twitter | Instagram | Ko-Fi


Scribd subscribers, click here to find my romance novellas! 

Drabble Rock

The Ballad of Mercy May; 0006

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immodesty of her attire: a thin, white chemise. How she came to be in this forest in such a state of undress is beyond her comprehension, and she has not the concentration to spare to give the matter much thought. The monstrosity behind her is closing the already narrow gap between them as it crashes through the brush as easily as if the jungle was little more than mist.

It occurs to her with a jolt that she has no idea where she is going. The forest is so dense, she cannot tell in which direction safety might lie. For


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Drabble Rock

Drabble Rock, Week 7


primary


Adrial twists Mhazara’s arm sharply behind her back and forces her behind a magnificent column of carved marble. “Your primary purpose in Kenzia,” he hisses, his face so near to hers she can feel his breath on her cheek, “is to find the traitor who would bring our nation to ruin. I did not bring you into the palace, into my confidence to make eyes at the Prince!”

Mhazara wrenches her arm from his grasp, rubbing at her wrist where his fingernails dug into her skin. “Piss off,” she growls in return, “your precious Prince was making eyes at me.”

Monday Motivations

Monday Motivations; Three of Pentacles

Good morning friends and welcome to another windswept week of writing.

Last week, even if I didn’t say so out loud, one of my big goals was to catch up on the sleep I lost over my last deadline. Well, friends, I definitely accomplished that.

Which means I have absolutely no excuses left when it comes to what I need to get done this week.

I’ve been thinking a lot this morning about goals and motivation in a bid to boost my writing output and efficiency. Okay, I sounded a little bit like a robot just then, didn’t I? Beep boop.

Something that I have realized over the last eighteen months writing for Scribd, is that I am much more productive when responding to a need. Pressure of a deadline or someone expecting a result from me sharpens my focus and I’m able to tune out distractions.

However, absent that pressure, a vacuum forms and my ability to stand strong against the temptations of procrastination and relaxation folds like a house of cards.

I have been playing for some time with different ideas on how to perhaps manufacture a sense of pressure in order to keep me on task, but so far I’ve been unable to trick my brain into doing its job.

Which is not to say I’m giving up. There is a way out there that will help me stay productive on days when I’m not on a deadline, I just have to find it.

This week I’m trying out stretch goals. After my do or die tasks for the day are done, I’ve given myself some bonus tasks that will make my life easier down the road if I do them now. But I also don’t need to beat myself up if I don’t get to them.

Let’s see how it goes. Wish me luck!

Kerry Share

Drabble Rock

The Ballad of Mercy May; 0005

Previous


to push herself to her feet. As her weight shifts, a twig snaps beneath her heel, breaking into pieces the once peaceful quiet. And that is all it takes.

The growl thrumming in her chest becomes a terrible roar as something massive comes crashing through the trees toward her. The time for indecision spent, she at lasts heeds the unseen voice in her head. She runs.

Sharp, stinging pains in her soles as she weaves through the undergrowth is what alerts her to her unshod feet; meanwhile low-hanging tree branches scratching at her bare arms and thighs make plain the


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Drabble Rock

Drabble Rock; Week 6


hunter


The Godhead on festival night was as much a hunting ground as it was a melting pot. Diplomats and dignitaries, spies and propagandists alike socialized freely, pretending that ancient petty grievances and the idea of nationalistic superiority didn’t matter within the confines of these walls, at least tonight. It was a lie, of course, and they all knew it.

Leema hated these events. She hated the politicking and the conspiring that went on under the guise of friendly inter-sovereignty relations. She hated pretending dire enemies were strangers and strangers were dear friends. She was in the wrong line of work.

Monday Motivations

Monday Motivations; Four of Swords

Hello friends and welcome to another winning week of writing.

Today, for yours truly, is deadline day for my most recent novella contract. And, I know I say this literally every time, but this time I really pulled out all the stops to try and screw things up for myself. By Friday, I was only half done with the manuscript.

Since I’m here and not curled up under my desk with my laptop, eyes bloodshot and words flowing nonsensically, you may surmise that despite the incredible time crunch, I managed to bang out the the last 17000 words I needed in just 48 hours.

That isn’t a brag. I never want to do that again. I’m pissed off at myself for putting myself in such a horrible position. Instead of spending my precious few leisure hours relaxing, I worked all friggin weekend. Instead of catching up on sleep (sorely needed) I stayed up into the wee hours of the morning. Instead of enjoying my writing, I forced myself to do it until my brain felt like a wrung out sponge.

I have got to get better at time management. I have got to learn how power through the natural urge to procrastinate. I have got to figure out how to write every day, so that I’m not stockpiling the stress for later.

I owe it to myself to do better next time, which conveniently starts — uh — tomorrow. Gotta love back to back contracts.

Honestly, I don’t subscribe to write every day as a rule, but it’s clear to me that if I don’t, I’ll more often than not done myself in sticky spots like this past weekend. Which, I remind you, sucked ass.

If that can’t motivate me, I don’t know what will.

It’s a new day friends, a new week. Let’s get after it together.

Kerry Share