Thursday Words

Just Keep Swimming

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

Friends, the last few weeks have been a little fraught in my world. Emotionally, financially, and writing…ly? I’ve had a lot of up and down moments, from launching my Patreon page to failing to secure a single Patron outside of my own inner circle, from having to cancel my trip to WorldCon because I could no longer afford the hotel to finally getting back to my romance novellas after a long summer off, from 7000+ word writing days to the stretch I’m in right now where flying a commercial jet seems like it would be easier than finishing this manuscript.

tenacity: the quality or state of being persistent

Something I’ve come to realize over the course of this journey, and its a lesson I am certain many authors have learned before me, is that determination is probably the most important quality in a writer — even more so than raw talent.

Because writing is going to be hard. There are going to be days (or several days in a row, or a week, or months) where it feels like there are no more words in your wrung out sponge of a brain. There are going to be periods where you think that you’re never going to make it. There will be deadlines you’re going to miss and you hate yourself for failing. It will feel like no one cares about your writing. It is going to be utterly demoralizing. And not everyone is going to be cut out for it.

I’ll be totally honest. I’ve thought more than once (often, even) that I’m one of those people. That, because my chronic depression and anxiety often rob me of creative spark, I’ll never be a professional writer. That, because I often find myself just too worn out from the other parts of my life that demand my time, attention, and mental energy, that I don’t deserve to succeed. And when the call is coming from inside the house like that, it becomes harder and harder to ignore.

There have been times when I “quit” writing. I just straight gave up. Told myself that writing was supposed to be fun, and I was making myself so miserable with guilt for not writing, that it was no longer an enjoyable activity for me. And if that was the case, what was the point? So, I walked away.

But, inevitably, a day or two later, I would miss it. I would feel the itch. I would be playing a video game and making up stories about the world or characters. I would be watching tv or a movie, and think about what I would do differently. I would hear a song and all sorts of ideas would come to life in my mind.

Then, just for shiggles of course, I would take a glance at the last thing I wrote before I rage quit, half expecting the words and ideas to be so terrible that they would actually affirm my decision to abandon writing altogether. Of course, they weren’t. Some of them were actually pretty good. And now that I looked at it again, I suddenly knew how to fix that trouble spot that made so frustrated before.

You get the idea. The point is this: I gave up. I stone cold quit. I was done. Writing was relegated to the long laundry list of failed endeavors.

And then I came back. 

Me to my WIPs

Okay, so maybe I didn’t quit quit. I really just took a break. But, at the time I made the decision, it really did feel like I was walking away, with all the emotional turmoil that entailed. And, weirdly enough, I think that was ultimately a good thing. It showed me how much writing meant to me, how I couldn’t stay away from it even if I tried, that though times get tough I will always find my way back to what I’m supposed to be doing.

Which is unquestionably, unshakably writing.


My monthly suggestion box is live over at Patreon for the $3.00 and up tiers. This month I am asking my Patrons to let me know what their favorite romance sub genres are. Who knows, maybe I’ll write one or two in those genres in the future. If you are a fan of romance, or know someone who is, please consider becoming a Patron or sharing my page: Patreon.com/KerryShare


That’s all from me this week, sorry it was a day late again. I’ll be back on Saturday with another installment of The Ballad of Mercy May. Until then, my friends, may your writing be plenty and your struggles be few.

Kerry Share

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Thursday Words

A Lot of Balls

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

For the last eight days, I have been at home on my last staycation of the year before my day job launches into its busy season. I would like to say that I got a whole mess of writing done and my latest manuscript is ahead of schedule and everything is fabulous and wonderful. But, uh. That would be a lie. 

Actually, I did what I probably needed to do and for the first three or four days I did pretty much nothing else but sleep and otherwise relax. Still, I’m not super worried. Part of me has actually come to accept that, at my core, I am a binge writer, and trying to write every day just doesn’t work for me. I’d like it to. I’m going to try to get better about that, but I’m not going to overly stress myself out about it either. 

Me, circa one week ago.

That being said, now that I am well rested and bursting with creative energy, I’ve been wondering whether or not I have enough writing projects on my plate at the moment. 

Yes, you read that right. I am looking for more things to do. 

Ever since I launched my Drabble Rock projects earlier this summer, I have found that I am far more fulfilled creatively than I was just working on one manuscript or fantasy project at a time. While finding the time to manage all of my wild ideas is an ongoing project in and of itself, I find that when I sit down with my planner to map out my day I’m more excited to have a variety of writing related activities on my to-do list. 

So, I’ve decided that I’m going to add a worldbuilding task to my daily endeavors. As some of you may know, I hate worldbuilding. However, I have come to recognize that my chronic avoidance of it is why my fantasy projects tend to stall out so quickly. Worldbuilding, to me, isn’t sexy like drafting (or editing *drool*), but it is necessary BEFORE I launch into a project. 

This is in addition to writing romance for Scribd, Drabble Rock, blogging, producing Patreon content, and drafting an already in-progress fantasy manuscript.

Piece of cake.

Alright, so lets be real, there simply aren’t enough hours in the day to maintain all those projects and expect to have a life outside of writing.

(Who needs that? Wonders Dark Me.)

And, sure, I imagine that I’ll get really tired of the grind some days and will need to take mental breaks from writing from time to time. That’s fine. But for right now, the idea of having so many moving parts, so many possible outlets, so many avenues to Being a Writer™ to explore… its energizing to me.

I’ve talked before about my desire to be prolific. To have millions of words to my name and dozens upon dozens of titles. I’m not going to achieve that taking it one story at a time.

Call me impatient, call me overly ambitious. I’m all that and more.

Lets just say, I’ve got balls.


Pearl is young, single, and completely uninterested in the trappings of marriage. Not that her father cares about her personal preferences. When Pearl is married off in what is meant to be none other than a good business deal between families, she decides she will have nothing to do with her intended husband. Or so she thinks.

Kind-hearted Thomas is more welcoming to the thought of a marriage partner than his betrothed, but such a gentle soul would never dare to overstep Pearl’s boundaries. With a partner so intent on keeping him at arm’s length, how can he convince his new wife that he truly loves her?

Pearl and Thomas are forced to get to know each other in the most unfortunate of situations: an arranged marriage unwanted by both of them. Will their families’ meddling come between the blossoming of what looks like an actual romance?

The Dutiful and the Disfavored, a Regency Romance, is available now on my Patreon, with pledges starting at just $1.00. Click here to find out more!


Well friends, that is just about everything I have for you this week. If you like my content, please consider subscribing to my Patreon, or making a donation to my Ko-Fi. Every little bit of support, monetary or moral, is sincerely felt and appreciated! And, as always, may your writing be plenty and your struggles be few.

Kerry Share

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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

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Scribd subscribers, click here to find my romance novellas! 

Thursday Words

I’m Angry Writing Isn’t My Actual Job

Note: I wrote this a few weeks ago and never got around to posting it. I ran out of time to write something new this week, so I thought I would recycle this post. Though the immediate situation has shifted (slightly), much of the sentiment is the same.


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

I’ll admit it. I’ve been out of sorts this week. My boss of seven years at my day job was recently promoted, and her new position meant she unfortunately had to leave my firm. It had just been pretty much me and her for the last three years, so with her gone the responsibility for keeping the firm running has fallen squarely on my shoulders with the assistance of other company staff who have filled in as needed.

Suffice it to say, I’m stressed.

Compounding my frustration is the fact that because I’m so mentally drained by the end of my work day, writing is exceedingly difficult. I already have precious few minutes in which to squeeze drafting (I’m presently penning this blog post from outside my daughter’s guitar lesson), and when I do get some time the last thing I want to do is tax my brain any further.

Not being able to write has sent me spiraling down that lovely rabbit hole of self-doubt and depression. My ideas aren’t good enough. I don’t have what it takes. If I were serious about writing, I would make the words come out.

I know those things aren’t true. I know that if I could just get to a place where I could financially support my family with my writing, that I do have the discipline and forbearance to make writing my actual job. But I can’t do that unless I write now and write well. But I can’t do that under present circumstances. But these circumstances aren’t likely to change unless I write.

And round and round it goes.

My frustrations and anxieties aren’t new, nor unique to me. But it’s hard not to feel angry and not a little bit jealous of all those writers out there who get to do this for a living, while I and so many others struggle for just the few words we manage to eke out in the creases.

It’s petty and ultimately pointless to nurse these sort of hurts, I know, and I won’t much longer. I just wish I knew why I lacked the get-up-and-go mentality that seems to drive so many successful writers. There are so many lovely and talented authors out there, many of whom have had to struggle through the daily life of not-writing to realize their ambitions, why not me?

Why not me?


Alright, enough of that. I’m in a better-ish place now mentally than that first week, and though my day job continues to be stressful as sin, I’ve done a bit better motivating myself to write when I come home. I’ve also returned to bringing my notebook with me to my job so that I can squeeze in some sentences in the creases. Its not much, but its keeping me engaged. Now, if I can just figure out how to not go into zombie-mode the instant I get home, I’ll be in good shape.

Until next time, my friends. May your writing be plenty and your struggles be few.

Kerry Share

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Scribd subscribers can read my romance novellas here! Coming soon to Patreon!

Thursday Words

Mid-Year Review ’22, Electric Boogaloo

Hello friends and welcome to another progress update on Just Another Struggling Writer. I’m just another struggling writer. 

It’s kind of hard to believe, but tomorrow marks the halfway point of the year. I’d like to say that the first six months of 2022 flew by, but honestly they’ve been kind of a drag. I’ve had ideas quit on me, freelance contracts fail to materialize, and a real sense of regression settle over me after what I felt was a really strong year in 2021. 

There have been high points too, of course. The realization that I have the mental capability and creative stamina to be a stay-at-home writer was a big one. The launch of Drabble Rock has been a real mood booster as well. And lets not forget I still have World Con to look forward to. 

That being said, it is more than fair to say that I am falling short of the goals I made for myself at the start of the year. 

Among those lofty dreams were such aims as: 

  1. Write 160,000 words in fantasy projects. 

Mid-year check-up: still possible, but unlikely. I haven’t written much at all this year, so I’m basically starting from 0. If I still want to hit that goal I’ll need to write almost 1000 words every day from now until New Years.

Don’t! temptmeFrodo
  1. Write 8 novellas for Scribd.

Mid-year check-up: Not happening. This isn’t entirely my fault, as we had a change in editors this year that has not exactly been smooth. I’ve done one so far, waited almost two months on pitches only to be rejected, and submitted two more pitches that I’m still waiting to hear back on. Even if I manage to do one a month for the rest of the year, that will only give me seven. Sad, especially for my bank account, but what can you do?

  1. Figure out how to sell my own ebooks.

Mid-year check-up: Working on it! I’ve asked about getting the ebooks from my publisher after the exclusivity period is up, next I just need to figure out how to release them successfully. I’m working on dolling up a Patreon for when I start getting the ebooks, but I’m still really unsure of how to go about it. Still, making progress. 

  1. Release a “serialized” novel. 

Mid-year check-up: In progress! Granted, I’m releasing one hundred words at a time and only two entries in, but hey, I made the commitment and I’ve got the project going. It still needs some fine tuning (obviously I’ll have to post more than once a week if I want to finish the story before I’m dead), but its launched. 

So a mixed bag, though it should be noted that my two “do or die” goals are the ones most certain to fail. 

guess i’ll just die

Bearing these various successes and failures in mind, I’ve been thinking about adjusting my expectations for the rest of the year. 

Six months ago I intended to write two story paths of The Nexus, which has since been shelved pending deeper world building. Today I would like to commit to writing the first Seekers of Empyrean novella and one of the cozy fantasy ideas that was rejected by my editor. Completing both at their target word counts would bring total words written up to 135,000 (closer to 750 words per day if anyone’s counting). That’s not too bad a compromise, right? 

Not to mention, that isn’t even counting the words I’ll be adding to The Ballad of Mercy May. Sure, it’s only 100 words at a time, but I figure I will start ramping up how many times per week I’ll be posting entries. By the end of December I would like to be up to three Ballad posts per week.

Lastly, I would like to have the majority (if not all) of my 2021 novellas with Scribd posted to my Patreon before the year is out. By then the exclusivity period will be up for all six published so far (I’m pretty sure, anyway) and I’ll be free to make some additional pennies off my hard work. Who doesn’t love that? 

I think those are some fair and reasonable goals that I have complete control over. No one but me will be to blame if I don’t meet them. 

As for things outside of my control I would like to see happen, I’ve got two things in mind:

  • write 4 more novellas for Scribd
  • reach 150 followers here on Just Another Struggling Writer

Taken as a whole, I think if I can nail most of these goals before the clock strikes 2023 I can count this year as a win. 


I meant to write the first edition of WIP Wednesday yesterday but then I laid down on my couch at 8:00 and didn’t wake up again until my alarm went off. Oops. It works out though, since I still don’t have much to talk about seeing as how I really HAVEN’T WRITTEN ANYTHING IN THE LAST SEVEN DAYS. 

We’ll kick it off next week, barring any unforeseen naps.


Look at me getting this blog post done early. Until next time my friends, may your writing be plenty and your struggles be few.

Kerry Share

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Scribd subscribers, click here to find my romance novellas!

Thursday Words

Winning the Break-Up

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

First of all, let me thank everyone who participated in, or even just sent me some kind words about, Drabble Rock on Tuesday. I was kind of nervous about creating what I hope will eventually become a community event, but even if it never comes to that, I am grateful to everyone who encouraged me nonetheless. I hope the second part of the Drabble Rock metaverse, The Ballad of Mercy May, which officially launches tomorrow, is just as well received. Please look forward to it.


Last week, my favorite writing related podcast, Print Run put out an episode about pettiness. The hosts, Laura and Erik, talked specifically about how pettiness and professional jealousies can often times be put to work motivating oneself to work harder, make it better, do it faster… wait, no. That’s Daft Punk.

Anyway, it got me thinking about my own pettiness. I, like most (if not all) others, am chock full of it, but perhaps abnormally it is not directed at anyone but myself. Specifically, my past self. Even more specifically, the past self that failed to live up to my own — lofty, lowly, or otherwise — expectations.

I realized listening to Laura and Erik that I treat my past self like an ex-lover and her failures like a break up I desperately want to win.

Ever since I announced Drabble Rock last week, I have been fretting about what has at times seemed like it’s inevitable downfall. After all, I have attempted myriad weekly creative endeavors, most of them right here on this blog, only for them to die in obscurity just a few weeks later. As I am constantly lamenting how busy I am with work, children, housekeeping, and freelancing in addition to writing, it seems like adding not just one but two new projects to the pot is a recipe for bitter disappointment.

Often times past disappointment has fomented an expectation of present inadequacies. That, in turn, depresses my ability and desire to pursue my creative endeavors. The idea then fails because of course it does, and inevitably the cycle begins anew.

Not this time.

Today, I am looking at the failure of my Short But Sweet vignettes, the shelving of my Border Towns draft, the excuses I’ve made for not pushing myself to commit wholly to writing and telling myself: I am better than that.

If my ex told me that I couldn’t write for shit, and that I should just give up because I’ve always been a let down and always will, I would work like hell every damn day to prove that asshole wrong. I would write and write and write; I would refine my craft, and start a second then a third draft. I wouldn’t stop, just because they thought I should.

So, why should I lay down and accept it when those thoughts are inside my own head?

Today, I am breaking up with giving up. I am dumping disappointment. I am walking out on not writing. I’m fed up with failure, so I’m leaving lethargy behind and embracing a new and more fabulous me. One that writes even when I don’t have to and finishes projects even when they aren’t on deadline. One that starts creative endeavors just because they’re fun and makes time for them because I made a commitment to myself.

So long to the ex-partner from hell of more than a decade: doubt, self-deprecation, and weary resignation.

Hello dreams realized.


That’s all from me on this bright and shiny Thursday. I’ll be back tomorrow for the first installment of the second half of Drabble Rock: The Ballad of Mercy May. I hope you’ll all check out the first hundred words of the epic fantasy I once considered my opus.

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

Kerry Share

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