Horror is hard.
Specifically, writing horror is hard.
More specifically, writing horror for longer than 2,000 words is hard.
It's not my forte. It's a struggle and I end up spinning my wheels more than I actually get any work done. Am I making excuses? Probably. But I haven't wracked my brain so hard for so little return with any of my other books before.
Granted, there aren't many to choose from, but still.
Preparing for Scaring, Writing, Featured
So a full week of daily blog posts is now done, and the Preparing for Scaring series has come to a close. I hope you've enjoyed reading these short, daily posts in the strange and suspenseful. And if you missed them, then feel free to take a moment to page back and check each one out.
In case you're new to the blog, my next project is going to be a Horror novel, though which subgenre of Horror I'm as-of-yet not totally certain. I, personally, am a fan of a very particular kind of horror, or kinds. But are my readers? If I write this book, will it sell? Or will it, much like Cybersaurus and Astral Tides, just be a story I, once again, write because I want to write it, and not because it's what I think will appeal to the public?
Astral Tides: The Shadows of Uhmakhet is the first sequel I’ve set in place with the intent to publish. While I have written sequels before, it was years before self-publishing was ever even a thought or belief I had in mind, ever before it was even known to me, let alone considered achievable. The Shadows of Uhmakhet is also my second foray into the universe of the Council, the Union, and, more importantly, the crew of Captain Daltir Stone.
Rimward ended on more of a cliffhanger than any other book I’ve written thus far. And my plans with the story and the series was to make it huge. Six books, at minimum, cataloging the events of Captain Daltir Stone’s life from the first page of Rimward all the way to the final book. And if I decided to take it further, then I would, and if I decided to do spin-offs, then I would. Somewhere around episode five of Rimward I was riding high in the clouds on the fervor and excitement of the story, the characters, and the hanging plot threads, and I felt I could run this story for years without ever running out of steam.
And then I started The Shadows of Uhmakhet.
I like to think that I'm a fairly optimistic and level-headed guy. I won't deny that there are days when my head seems totally in the clouds, and this generally happens when I'm either about to start a new project, or when I'm just finishing a current one. The desire to see it, and anything I do, soar with all the potential I know it has is strong, and it doesn't take long before I'm overwhelmed with the dreams of seeing the books line shelves in stores they will likely never see, resting on coffee tables they will likely never touch, and be followed by other books, toys, movies and television shows that will honestly never happen. I hate my work when I'm doing it, but when I'm done, it tends to be the best thing in the world to me.
And yet, the last few days, I have felt marred by an undeniable sense of inadequacy; a worry that my work isn't worth sharing, or even completing. It's a strong feeling, and while I can pinpoint what fanned its small spark into a roaring flame, it's much more difficult to pick out what caused the spark in the first place.
With Jurassic World coming out this weekend, it was hard to NOT find the time and money to go and see it. The third sequel to the film that changed my childhood and young-adult life, and what appeared to be a promise to redeem the wonder, suspense, and quality of the original.
As more and more trailers were released for the film, my excitement, and my hope, began to dwindle. The great fire that once burned within me to see the film faded and faded until it was now more of a small flare; it shown brightly, but lost much of its volume and size. However, now having seen the film and gotten over my theater shock, I can give a more level-headed overview on my thoughts and feelings of the film.
So I've done it. I've done what I've always wanted to do. I've published a book. Not only that, but I don't have any plans to stop now. I, in fact, have three more books planned between now and the summer of 2015. Cybersaurus: The Awakening wasn't exactly a hit (in fact, very, very few people know about it, in the grand scheme of things), but I am certain that the more books I put out, the more I'll start to get noticed, and the more they may pick up steam.
I've decided shortly after finishing Cybersaurus: The Awakening that I wasn't going to visit Cybersaurus Season Two: Revolution until 2015, and that I would take quarter 4 of 2014 and quarter 1 of 2015 to pursue two other novels. Some friends of mine seemed excited for me to begin writing a suspense and horror novel, and so I set out to do just that, titled The Visitors Season One: Quarantine.
Yet it has taken me an abysmally long time to write Episode One of that season, and the entire time my mind keeps wandering back to Cybersaurus. Is this the Wall that every creative mind encounters? Or is it a general disinterest in my own work?