The Scariest Part of Writing a Book

 

Halloween is almost upon us, and with it comes the familiar appearance of ghosts, goblins, witches, werewolves, vampires, and other creatures of the night. These are the things that make ordinary people shiver from fright. But authors? Oh, we know a different kind of fear.

Authors have stared for hours into the horrifying emptiness of a blank page. We have lost our way in tangled plots with no clear exit. We have been haunted by characters who refuse to cooperate. And we have been tormented by story endings that wickedly deny us a satisfying conclusion.

And then there is the most dreadful experience of all: rereading yesterday's brilliant writing only to discover that it transformed into complete rubbish overnight.

Forget haunted houses. Try spending six months writing a novel, only to discover a plot hole big enough to swallow the entire cast! Now that is frightening.

Allow me to introduce you to a few of the horrors that lurk in the shadows of an author's life.

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The Curse of the Blank Page

There is nothing quite so intimidating as a blank page staring back at you. The glaring whiteness. The complete emptiness. It mocks you.

With a whirlwind of inspiration swirling in your head, you sit down at the computer, fingers poised over the keyboard, ready to create a masterpiece. At that very moment, every clever idea vanishes into thin air.

You type a sentence. Delete it. Type another. Delete that one too. After an hour of intense concentration, you manage to produce two words: Chapter One.

Congratulations. You are officially a writer.

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The Characters Who Refuse to Behave

You conceive your own unique characters. You name them. You give them personalities, histories, ambitions, and carefully planned futures. You are their creator—the supreme authority over their fictional universe.

Or so you think.

Somewhere around chapter seven, your obedient heroine develops an attitude. Your villain decides he would rather be misunderstood than be seen as entirely evil. Two characters who were never supposed to fall in love cannot keep their eyes off each other. And the character you planned to kill in chapter twelve? He refuses to die.

You argue. You threaten. You remind them who is in charge.

They laugh.

At some point, you surrender and rewrite the outline.

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The Plot Hole from Transylvania

Halfway through typing the initial manuscript, a horrifying realization strikes.

Your hero could not possibly have witnessed the murder because he was locked in a dungeon three hundred miles away. Your heroine somehow knows a secret that nobody ever told her. And the magical sword destroyed in chapter four has somehow mysteriously reappeared in chapter nineteen.

You stare at the screen in disbelief.

How did this happen? Someone must have sabotaged your manuscript while you were sleeping. Unfortunately, you are the only suspect.

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The Nightmare of Endless Revisions

Some people believe writing a book involves sitting at a computer, typing the story from beginning to end, and then happily sending it off to be published.

If only.

Writing the first draft is merely the beginning. Next come the revisions. Then more revisions. Then revisions of the revisions. You rearrange paragraphs, rewrite dialogue, eliminate unnecessary scenes, and hunt down adjectives that have multiplied like gremlins after midnight.

Eventually, you reach the point where you have read the same chapter so many times that the words no longer resemble English. So you declare the manuscript finished. Done. No more.

Three days later, you open it again because apparently writers enjoy suffering.

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The Ghost of Deleted Chapters

Every author has a graveyard. Mine is filled with discarded scenes, abandoned conversations, beautiful descriptions that served absolutely no purpose, and entire chapters that simply did not belong in the finished story.

Some were removed without remorse. Others required a painful farewell.

You spend hours crafting a scene you adore, only to realize it contributes nothing to the plot.

"But it's so beautifully written!" you protest.

Your inner editor folds its arms.

"But the dialogue is perfect!"

Your inner editor frowns and shakes its head.

"But I worked on it for THREE WHOLE DAYS!"

Your inner editor points rigidly at the delete key.

Somewhere, a tiny violin (or perhaps an old pipe organ) begins to play.

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The Terrifying Moment You Press Publish

You survived the blank page, the rebellious characters, the monstrous plot holes, and the seemingly endless torture of revisions. Your book is now finished. Edited. Formatted. Ready for readers across the world. All that is left is to press the button that makes it available for purchase.

Suddenly, your imagination becomes your worst enemy.

What if nobody likes it? What if somebody discovers a typo on page two? What if readers hate your favorite character? What if they love the villain more than the hero? What if your mom reads that one scene?

Your finger hovers over the SUBMIT button.

You consider changing your name to Danielle Evangelina Blackmont. Instead, you close your eyes, summon up the courage, and click.

There. You did it.

Now comes the truly terrifying part—waiting for reviews.

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The Sequel That Lurks in the Shadows

At last, your book is published. You lean back in your chair, breathe a sigh of relief, and congratulate yourself on surviving another literary adventure. You imagine a few peaceful weeks without deadlines, plot complications, or imaginary people demanding your attention. Then, just as you drift off to sleep, a new character appears in your mind:

"Hello," the creature says. "I have a story to tell you."

You pull the covers up over your head. "Go away."

"But it's a marvelous story."

You squeeze your eyes shut.

"Just one chapter," the creature insists as his features start to take shape.

And somewhere in the darkness, your next novel begins.

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Why I Keep Returning to the Haunted Writing Desk

Despite the frustrations, sleepless nights, and occasional desire to throw a laptop out the window, I would not trade the experience of being an author for any other vocation.

There is magic in creating new characters who never before existed. It is a wonderful delight when their personalities become real and they begin to interact with you. To watch their stories unfold is incredibly exciting, and there is real satisfaction in solving every stubborn story problem that comes along. I feel genuine joy at finally finding the right words, the right phrases, to express my ideas.

Yes, writing is exhausting. It is maddening, unpredictable, and occasionally frightening. But it is an adventure I willingly choose again and again.

So this Halloween, while the rest of the world worries about ghosts, monsters, and things that go bump in the night, I will be sitting at my desk, bravely facing a far more frightening creature—my unfinished manuscript. And if you happen to hear a bloodcurdling scream tear from my office, do not worry. I probably just discovered another plot hole.

Happy Halloween, and happy reading everyone!

—Richelle E. Goodrich

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A question for my readers: 

Have you ever wondered what goes on behind the scenes of your favorite stories?

Moving From Tennessee to Ohio

Big changes are happening at my house. My husband found work in Ohio, which means we are preparing to leave Tennessee to move north within the next couple of months. I am choosing to think of it as an adventure. It is certainly a chance to visit a new area of the world I have not yet seen.

For now, however, we are in that peculiar stage of moving where we technically still live in our house but most of our belongings do not. They are packed in cardboard boxes and piled high in the garage, presumably discussing among themselves which box contains the one item I will desperately need tomorrow. (I knew I shouldn’t have packed all my notebooks.)

Over the past several weeks, I have sorted, boxed, sold a few items on Marketplace, scrubbed, dusted, and mopped every inch of the house to get it ready to sell. I have cleaned places that never saw daylight until now. Moving is an enormous, arduous, expensive, unrewarding job—one that seems to create new tasks for every one completed. Because of this, my writing was put on hold while my husband and I concentrated on preparing the house.

Now that nearly everything we own is boxed and mostly waiting for the house to sell, I have finally started writing again. My office is empty excepting a desk, chair, and mini-fridge, so every little sound echoes off the bare walls. Even the tapping of my keyboard resounds extra loudly.

Honestly, as eerily as the echoes mix with the periodic hissing of the air-conditioner, I should be writing a ghost story.

It is strange for me to sit in an empty room with bare walls. I am used to being immersed in enchanting, sentimental objects—paintings, books, statues, collectibles, knick-knacks—that feed my imagination. While creating fictional worlds, my real world is completely dismantled and packed away. It feels like living between chapters. Tennessee is the chapter coming to a close while Ohio is the chapter waiting to begin a new story. Right now, I am stuck in an awkward space between the two—surrounded by boxes, cleaning supplies, and every disposable paper product a person needs to function throughout a day.

I am both excited and sad about this move, although there is still plenty to do before the actual day arrives. For now, I just pray that the right buyer comes along soon. And while my husband and I wait, I shall be in my echoing office writing again... and trying not to imagine every creak in this mostly-empty house as a ghost enquiring when the next chapter will be finished.

A Little Green in My Heart

 Why I Love St. Patrick’s Day

   

Every year when March rolls around and the world turns shades of vibrant green, I feel a quiet little thrill. St. Patrick’s Day has always held a special charm for me—not just because of the cheerful celebrations, but because somewhere back in the strong branches of my family tree are a few Irish ancestors. In fact, according to family history, that ancestry even traces back to Irish royals. I find that exciting! Knowing my ancestry gives the holiday a personal sparkle. It feels less like observing a tradition and more like greeting old family who pop in once a year wearing green attire and mischievous grins.

There is something wonderfully lighthearted about St. Patrick’s Day. Unlike some holidays that come wrapped in pressure and expectations, this one is content to simply be a joyful day. People wear green to avoid playful pinches, decorate with clovers, and tell stories of leprechauns guarding pots of gold. Even if you are not Irish, it is fun to get swept up in the festive spirit. A holiday built around luck, laughter, and a little bit of folklore is a holiday I happily support.

Of course, what I love most about St. Patrick’s Day is the sense of heritage it brings to me. When I think about my Irish ancestors, I imagine strong people with resilient spirits who lived long before my time. They carried their stories, their humor, and their traditions through generations until, somehow, those threads of history found their way into my own life. This holiday is a small moment to reflect on my heritage and appreciate the paths that eventually led to my present circumstances.

And honestly, any holiday that encourages people to smile a little more, share a meal, and maybe indulge in something sweet or festive is worth celebrating. So, whether you are Irish by citizenship, Irish by ancestry, or simply Irish for the day, I hope you find a bit of luck, a lot of laughter, and perhaps even a tiny bit of gold at the end of a rainbow.

Have a lucky and joyful St. Patrick’s Day!

 

ON PATTY'S DAY, YOU DO 

You don’t believe in leprechauns.
A myth you say they be.
You don’t believe in pots-o-gold,
or four-leaf-clover tea.

You don’t believe the rainbow’s end
alights on treasured finds.
They are illusions meant for fools
you say ‘ave lost their minds.

You don’t believe in whispering
your wishes to the wind,
where on St. Patrick’s holiday
they blow t’wards Ireland.

You don’t believe in magic spells
or longings coming true.
Yet, head-to-toe you dress in green
on Patty’s Day, you do.

                    ― Richelle E. Goodrich, Being Bold: Quotes, Poetry, & Motivations for Every Day of the Year

 

Reasons I Love Being an Author

People sometimes ask me why I write—why I choose to spend so many hours alone with imaginary people, invented worlds, and problems that only exist on the page. The answer is simple: I love the process and especially the results. A deeper truth is that writing offers me a type of fulfillment few other pursuits have ever matched. Over the past decade of developing my craft, I have come to recognize four main joys that sit at the very heart of being an independent author.

Creating In-Depth Personalities

One of my greatest pleasures in writing is developing rich, believable personalities for my characters. I take pleasure in imagining how they think, what motivates their behaviors, and how every strength or flaw can affect their choices. My book characters are more than participants in a story, they are the soul of every adventure. Molding their attributes, their personalities, their backstories, their quirks and habits—it is how I get to know them in depth. I love how one character can affect an entire outcome. 

Developing Purpose-Driven Adventures

I am drawn to stories driven by purpose and/or desperation. I enjoy the challenge of designing adventures where my characters react because they must, not because it is convenient. When a character is backed against the wall or her heart is set on something meaningful, the story gains momentum and emotional weight. It is a challenge for me to put myself in their shoes and imagine how they feel, what they are thinking, what course of action they will choose to pursue. weight. Those are moments that make writing both demanding and deeply rewarding.

Having Full Creative Control

Being an author means having complete say over how my stories develop. I decide where the narrative goes, how conflicts are resolved, and what lessons (subtle or overt) emerge along the way. The freedom to create exactly what I choose allows me to take creative risks and develop worlds, societies, cultures, and customs as they bloom in my imagination. It is a pleasure and a privilege I do not take lightly.

Learning With Every Book

Each book I write teaches me new principles about the art of storytelling. With every project, I gain a deeper understanding of pacing, structure, timing, emotional resonance, tone and style, etc. Writing is a continual learning process, and I find satisfaction in knowing that every story makes me stronger, more thoughtful, and more talented as an author. Being a writer is not just about the tales I fabricate—it is about personal growth in my own creativity and imagination. This is why I continue to return to the blank page time and again, eager to write something new.

A Note to My Readers

If you found your way here through one of my stories, thank you for spending time in the fictional worlds I create. Writing is a conversation between author and reader, and I am grateful for every reader willing to step into a story with me. If you would like to explore more of my books, reflections, and projects, I invite you to browse my website at richellegoodrich.com. I hope you stay awhile.

—Richelle E. Goodrich

 

Kindness Matters

My Maxim for this Year

This year, I have chosen a guiding phrase—a quiet compass to help me navigate both ordinary days and unexpected storms. The words that keep returning to me again and again are simple yet powerful: Kindness Matters.

Not kindness as a vague idea or a pleasant afterthought, but kindness as an intentional practice. A way of living. A choice.

In a world that often rewards speed over care, volume over listening, and judgment over understanding, kindness can feel almost rebellious. Yet that is precisely why it matters so much. Kindness grounds us. It softens sharp edges. It reminds us that every person we encounter is carrying a story we cannot see.

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What Kindness Matters Means to Me

For me, this maxim is a reminder that words matter, tone matters, pauses matter. How we respond—to success, to frustration, to people who differ from us—matters. Kindness does not mean weakness or silence in the face of wrong. Rather, it means choosing compassion even when it is easier not to.

Kindness is strength with a gentle voice.

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Simple Ways to Live this Maxim

Living out Kindness Matters does not require grand gestures. Most often, it reveals itself in small, daily choices:

• Speak gently, especially when emotions run high. Words linger longer than we realize.
• Listen fully, without planning a response while someone else is still speaking.
• Assume good intent, even when misunderstandings arise.
• Extend grace—to others, and just as importantly, to yourself.
• Offer encouragement freely, whether through a note, a message, or a sincere compliment.
• Pause before reacting, allowing kindness to guide the moment instead of impulse.

Even silence, when chosen thoughtfully, can be an act of kindness.

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Why Kindness Matters—Now More Than Ever

Kindness creates ripples. One small act can ease a burden, mend a fragile moment, or change the course of someone’s day. We may never know the full impact of our kindness, and that is part of its quiet beauty.

As a writer, I believe stories shape hearts. As a human being, I believe kindness shapes the world. When we lead with kindness, we make room for healing, connection, and hope. We remind one another that dignity and compassion are not optional extras; they are essential.

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A Kindness Challenge for the Year

I offer you a gentle challenge—one that requires no special tools, no extra hours in the day, and no perfection.

For the next week (or month, or even the entire year), choose one intentional act of kindness each day.

It does not have to be big. In fact, the smaller and more consistent, the better. For example…

• Smile at a stranger and mean it.
• Text a message of appreciation.
• Let someone go first—on the road, in line, or in conversation.
• Speak kindly about someone who is not present.
• Forgive a small offense and release it quietly.
• Offer yourself patience on a day you fall short.

At the end of each day, pause for a moment and reflect: Where did kindness show up today? Where did I choose it? How did it make a difference?

You may be surprised to discover that kindness not only changes the atmosphere around you—it changes you. It softens the heart, steadies the mind, and reminds us of our shared humanity. If enough of us take up this challenge, even imperfectly, the world will become a little warmer, a little safer, and a little more hopeful. And that, I believe, is reason enough to begin.

Kindness matters. Live like it does.

—Richelle E. Goodrich

Reflections on a Decade of Words (and Mild Chaos)

 

A Year’s End and a Cup of Questionable Cocoa

As this year stumbles toward its grand finale—tripping over scattered rolls of wrapping paper and presents that could more easily be shoved into gift bags—I find myself sitting quietly with a mug of cocoa that may or may not still be warm. It’s early. Very early. The kind of early where a person begins to ponder important questions like Why am I awake? and Did I actually accomplish anything this year? This past decade? Or did I just perpetually reorganize my website?

But then the memories drift in, floating like dust motes that cleverly avoid vacuum cleaners. And I realize that… yes, I did accomplish things. Quite a few things, actually.

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Words That Wandered Off Without Permission

When I first started publishing, I had no idea that some of my shortest lines—tiny thoughts scribbled in the margins of my brain and my notebook—would wander off into the world and find homes in places I never expected. Quotes I first scribbled on post-its became lines in my books and somehow ended up taped to the desks of strangers. Some of my quotes were taped into scrapbooks, displayed on classroom walls, printed in magazines, and shared online by people who had no idea I was often venting or healing from what sparked my thoughts and adages.

But nothing has delighted me quite so much as hearing, “I needed your words today.”
It has been humbling. And a little surreal. Like watching your kids go out into the world and manage themselves independently as kind, decent, responsible adults.

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Books, Books, and a Few More Books

Somewhere in the midst of my writing journey, I managed to publish multiple books—fantasy adventures, reflective collections, poetry, and other stories that insisted on being written. Each book release has been a bit like sending a fragile little paper boat into a giant ocean. Miraculously, none of them sank. Even more miraculously, people read them. Voluntarily. Thank you.

When readers tell me a character speaks to them or a line offers real comfort—well, those are the moments that fuel me more than any amount of caffeine (and that is saying something).

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Lessons Learned (Most of Them the Hard Way)

This past decade taught me discipline.
Which is a polite way of saying: I can write on days when the creative spark is dead and buried and refusing resurrection.

It taught me revision and patience. (Some manuscripts I have revised so many times they should be awarded frequent flyer miles.)

It taught me to trust my voice, even when that voice occasionally mutters “This paragraph is awful” or “No one will ever read this,” which, ironically, is often when someone emails to tell me it was their favorite part.

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The Not-So-Solitary Writing Life

Despite the stereotype of writers living in dark rooms surrounded by stacks of books, sentimental possessions, and empty mugs (okay, fine, that part is kinda true), I have been incredibly lucky to be part of a creative community. I have met readers who share their hearts. I have met writers who share their wisdom. I have met people who ask, “When is the next book coming out?”—which is both the greatest compliment and the scariest question ever.

Storytelling may happen in solitude, but I have learned that being a storyteller is wonderfully crowded.

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Gratitude, Giggles, and New Pages Ahead

As I wrap up 2025 and try not to devour the last of the chocolate covered gummy bears, I feel immensely grateful. Grateful for characters who whisper their stories at three in the morning, for readers who embrace my stories (and don’t complain too much about my cliffhangers), grateful for a husband who supports me wholeheartedly, and grateful for the unpredictable ink-stained path that has somehow carried me through a full decade.

I pray that 2026 and the next ten years will bring me creative ideas, new manuscripts, leaps of faith—and a faster laptop. But for now, I am so very thankful for the time and opportunity to craft my own stories.

Here’s to another year of quiet wonder, beautiful words, healing laughter, and the special magic that happens when a book finds its perfect reader.

—Richelle E. Goodrich

Font Facelifts for my Books

 

Font Facelifts for All of my Books        Have you searched on Amazon for my books lately? If so, you probably noticed that the covers have undergone a slight change. The illustrations and the written manuscripts are the same, but each book has undergone what I call a "font facelift."      You will discover now that every book has a bolder, easier to read title on its cover. And my signature name is no longer printed at the bottom; it has been replaced by typed font, which is also easier to read.      Personally, I like the changes. I think the new fonts make my covers more noticeable and unique. Previously, my book titles were all printed in the same font, but no more! These new fonts were chosen for their artistic character and their ability to stand out rather than meld within the illustrations. What do you think?      You can find all of my books with their "font facelifts" on Amazon.com in various formats. Look for them in audible, Kindle, paperback, and hardcover. Just search my name!       Have you read Eena's coming-of-age adventure? The Harrowbethian Saga:       After an unplanned trip to the doctor’s office, Sevenah Williams discovers that her ancestry is not exactly human. This shocking news puts her on a course to find the truth about her birth parents and remember a tragic past that placed her in hiding as a toddler.      Eventually, she takes on her birth name―Eena―and accepts her birthright as the only living heir to the throne of Harrowbeth. But this privilege comes with a price. She learns this during the painful process of physically joining with an heirloom necklace known as the dragon’s soul. From that point on, Queen Eena slowly uncovers powers granted her by the necklace, giving her the ability to manipulate energy—a gift that comes in handy when facing enemies who wish to see her royal line eliminated.      Eena must fight alongside new friends including Derian, the captain of the Kemeniroc; Kira, a Mishmorat with might and spunk; Shanks and his crew of giant Viiduns; and Ian, her best friend and sworn protector. Her greatest challenges, however, turn out to be personal: learning to love, to trust, and to handle adult problems when she simply longs to remain a normal teenager. I recently finished The Women by Kristin Hannah. My Review      I chose to read this book because my father served in the Vietnam War from 1968 to 1970. In his graying years, he sat down and wrote about his memories of boot camp, officer training, and a two-year tour in Vietnam. After reading his book of war memories, I felt as if my eyes were opened and I gained a deeper understanding of the man I called Father. I was honestly shocked by the nightmarish events he lived through. His behavior and reluctance to talk much about Vietnam made significantly more sense to me. So when I was presented with this book on the women of the Vietnam war, I was curious to read it.      In truth, this was a difficult book to experience because of the hardships endured by the main character, Frankie, and her family. Nearly every chapter was heartrending. I found it easier to read my father's memories than this dramatic depiction of how the Vietnam War destroyed and broke people. This book follows the life of Frankie from her early twenties to well after the end of the war in Vietnam. She starts as a young nurse who yearns to please her father, hoping to someday have her portrait hung on his Wall of Heroes. She enlists in the Vietnam War as a nurse, and ends out serving two consecutive tours. The war is hell. Suffering the loss of loved ones is even harder. This book does an incredible job of narrating a step-by-step process of fear, loss, anguish, betrayal, and drug use that nearly drive this Vietnam veteran to an early grave. It is a sad story with elements of hope. Be prepared for harsh language and difficult scenes. What am I working on now?      I am still in the process of writing the first draft of a new fictional paranormal adventure with a heroic duo who may just save the world despite their human weaknesses. The title of this book is not yet decided, but I am considering Phantom's Veil or The Phantom Veil as possibilities. This book takes place in the present but involves old Mayan mythology. I am doing some research to help me use Mayan hieroglyphs in the book. It is both fun and educational research! My Official Author Website Keep track of my current writing projects, new releases, book giveaways, what I'm reading, Poem of the Week, book signings, and more! _  _  ________________  _  _    Thanks for subscribing to my periodic newsletter! As always, I ask that you give indie authors a helping hand by taking the time to leave short and kind reviews on Amazon, iTunes, Goodreads, BandN, Kobo, and other online book retailers. Your positive ratings and reviews really do sell more books!

Happy Birthday, America!

Memorial Day and My Dad

       I hope everyone had an enjoyable Memorial Day yesterday. I know some of my family members got together and visited cemeteries. Mom was surely seated beside my dad's gravesite for a portion of the day. My husband and I had friends over for a BBQ. At times throughout the day I thought of my late father. Not because he sacrificed his life in the armed services, but because he served during wartime. My dad (pictured below) sacrificed years as well as a portion of his emotional well-being to the things he witnessed in war. I feel for our servicemen and women, and I thank them all for their sacrifices. They are our protectors and heroes.