Character Development

Character Development

All authors have a certain special way of developing their characters. I have no idea how exactly I’m going to develop mine. Filling out a questionnaire about them doesn’t feel right, and writing snippets of her daily life or her in unique situations doesn’t quite do it for me either. It almost feels forced, somehow. I’ve been working on fleshing out one of my characters for my book, seeing as I can’t get very far if I don’t know her very well, and things have been a little rocky.

At this point in the story, my main character is beginning to develop and her inner desires are becoming evident. I don’t know how to bring her through the first story arc, because I don’t know her as well as I’d like to. I’ll just have to spend some of my downtime, and my uptime, trying to get into my main character’s headspace.

This, readers, is the only real way I can develop my characters. It’s probably super common, but for me to write someone completely different than me, I’ll have to do some hands on field research. That’s why I’m sitting in a public place, writing things in a notebook in between tapping away on my phone, and drinking an overpriced coffee like a pretentious cliche.

That’s totally something that my character would do. Too bad I’m not dressed for the part. 

-Spencer Holly 

The Internet Is A Distraction

Once again, I am back with a non-story related update. I’m working on a short story that I think is quite interesting, and based off of a dream I had years ago. 

All I have to do is edit my notes to have it make sense, and also to remove the giant vibrator that has a time travel setting. It’s easier said than done.

Anyways. For the last week or so there hasn’t really been wifi at my home. It’s entirely out of my control. My data plan on my phone is exhausted and I’m on reduced speed right now, which suuuuuucks. At least Reddit is still kind of working. And WordPress, sometimes. 

I’ve managed to write a few pages of my book in the past few days. I’m struggling with it, especially because of my decision to rewatch the entire Avatar: The Last Airbender series. Thank goodness my roommate gave me all access to her DVD collection. I’ve also set myself on the task of reworking my entire farm in Stardew Valley.  It’s very difficult to dedicate time to writing under these self inflicted circumstances. Hopefully tomorrow I’ll be able to crank out a few more pages. Maybe finish a chapter. Who knows.

It’s just so hard to focus, even without wifi and the whole entire internet to distract me. I absolutely suspect that my ADHD has everything to do with this. 

-Spencer Holly

I Still Exist

I Still Exist

I wrote this story well over a year ago. The only other place you can find it online is on the Tumblr page of fifteenhours-creepystories. I really love that blog, and often go there to get my fix of original horror stories. This version of the story is slightly different than the original that I wrote so long ago, and I think the ending is much better and less anti-climactic. I’ve also changed the title of the story. I also originally posted this story on an old, cold, dead WordPress I used to have before I deleted the entire thing. 

If anyone is reading this, I can honestly say that I’d be surprised. Not surprised that someone was reading this, but surprised that my words managed to reach someone. It would mean that in some way, I’m still here, and I still exist. It’s the only thing that I want. It started years ago; before I was aware of it. I faded away, and I’m not sure if I’m really still here, and the world is ignoring me, or if I really don’t exist anymore. I want someone, at least one person, to know my story, and I’m scared that it’s too late for me.

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Social Obligations & Other Content Creators

Social Obligations & Other Content Creators

I wasn’t really sure if I wanted to make a post about this, but last night I spent a solid 100$ at an arcade on opening night and walked out with two plush bears I earned fair and square from UFO Catchers. I’m very proud of them. I also got about a thousand or so tickets for the prize counter, but I’m going to save those for later.

Though I was very interested in the arcade itself, and more importantly the bar on the lower level, I only went on the very first day it was open because a friend of mine, Crane Princess, was planning on being there. In fact, I’m fairly certain that I’m going to be included in her video about the opening night of the arcade itself. Neato burrito!

I also got to meet ArcadeJackPotPro, and even though I’ve never heard of him before he gave me a neon yellow Garfield plush. I’ve returned the gesture by following his social media.

The outing was quite fun, and my roommate also joined Crane Princess and I after some time, but before she arrived I felt very strange about the whole thing. I was part of a posse. A youtuber’s meetup event. I, and a few of Crane’s other fans, milled around her and followed her while we all played games together. I’m not very good at connecting with other content creators, and I’m not entirely sure that you can call me a “content creator” when all I’ve done is faffed about on WordPress and posted one of my recent short stories. There will be more though, I absolutely promise you that.

It’s also strange for me to go an entire day without thinking about the book I’m working on or some kind of short story or.. well, anything. Normally, I have all kinds of words and stories and plotlines and characters flying through my head, but today, there was nothing. Maybe it was the lack of sleep and exhaustion from working for 8 hours or just having my mind focused on crane games and how to acquire the plushes that I seek, but it’s still a very strange sensation.

Not to mention, every time I go to help my friends or someone I know with their creative work, I always feel sort of out of place or pushy and not really all that important at all. Maybe I just never connected with other creators in the same way that I do with Crane Princess. After all, she’s been in my bedroom and my son pet cat really seemed to like her.

-Spencer Holly



Not cut out for humor

Earlier today I posted a short story that I had been working on for three days. In my cellphone’s notepad, I put “Sci Fi short story where a ‘I’m more intelligent than everyone else because society is primitive’ type finds out that aliens are easy going and hate him“. I tried to write it, and as these things tend to do, it took a life of its own. A confusing, messy, pointless life. I wanted to write a funny story, but I felt bad when I scheduled the post, felt worse when it posted, and after 3 hours, I deleted it off the face of the planet. It got 5 views. I’m bad at writing jokes. It makes sense since I tend to not be a very funny person overall.

I know this because I’m bad at thinking on my feet, save for a few flukes, and it’s usually my reactions to things happening in real time that make people laugh. Humor writing is even worse for me because I tend to over think it and things end up not being very funny at all. I did a bad job with the humor sci-fi story I left posted for three hours, and if I ever try to use that plot line again, I’ll have to make it some sort of sci-fi horror story or something.

For a while I aspired to write a few articles for Cracked, and then realized that I’m not very funny and that even if I did come up with a decent idea for an article, there was a slim chance they would actually take it. I’ll still read on there with no hard feelings, though.

I know that it takes quite a bit of skill and work put into it to become a humor writer, just like with other type of writing, but I think I would rather not go against my natural grain. I’ll stick to the emotional romance stories and the creepypasta-esque shorts.

If you’d like a pointless story from my daily life, the last thing I did that made someone laugh was when I walked into the back room of my workplace today to fill up a small bucket with cleaning solution and hot water when I heard my manager jokingly call out, “Spencer, what the fuck are you doing?” and using my best monotone voice, I replied “Whatever I want.” It emitted a chuckle or two from everyone in the back room. It was also the funniest thing that I said all day, and that’s not saying much.

-Spencer Holly

On the Edge of Appalachia

Last winter, a friend of mine suggested to me that I take a peek at a book. It happened to be Trampoline: An Illustrated Novel by Robert Gipe. You can check out the book here. My friend recommended this book to me due to the unique nature of those who grew up in Appalachia. I see now why he told me to give it a look. I finally got around to buying the kindle copy of the book last week and almost immediately plowed through the entire thing. I caught myself opening my kindle app on my phone in order to quickly read a few paragraphs whenever I could, and this absolutely included taking an extra 10 minute break while at work in order to get my fix.

It’s hard to find a piece of media that actually captures what its like to grow up in Appalachia. I wasn’t in Kentucky where the book takes place (and it takes all my willpower not to write ‘Kensucky’ instead), but I was very close. I grew up in West Virginia, where coal mining is a pretty big deal. I wasn’t out in the hollers (excuse me, the hollows) and never really saw the destruction first hand with my own eyes, but I saw other things. I saw how my ‘treehugger’ friends couldn’t consume alcohol and had limited diets because growing up, the water was poison due to the coal mining. I saw all the debates, the fights, and felt disgusted when I saw billboards advertising the coal mining companies and all they did for us. But I also felt apathetic, because it seemed like everyone’s efforts were wasted.

I like to think that I’d fit right in with Dawn Jewell.

Another thing that was so great about Trampoline is that I actually got homesick reading it. Anyone who knows me in person is well aware of how I feel about West Virginia. I hated growing up there, and clawed tooth and nail to be in a position where I could leave. It wasn’t until I had a fate chance to move out of there, no strings attached, that I got to leave. So far, I haven’t looked back, and felt out of place and out of home the one time that I had gone back to visit.

Ever since I read Trampoline,  I’ve been thinking of my life back in West Virginia. It was messy and hard, and I left a lot of things undone and a lot more of things unsaid. I don’t feel the need to go back and make amends. However, like there always is, there’s a ‘but’ to these sorts of things.

-Spencer Holly

“First Blog Post”

Technically, it would have never have been my first blog post, just my first blog post on this specific blog. I have a habit of making blogs and deleting them or abandoning them, sometimes even before I get to post anything meaningful or get a single follower. It’s a bit sad for the dead, cold blogs I’ve left behind, but the same could be said for all my incomplete journals, sketchbooks, and the google docs tab I’ve had open for two months that has a half-completed story on it.


I hope that in the future I can keep up with this blog and help my stories reach new audiences. I’m working on a book right now, but in between rough nights staring at Zenwriter, I like to pop out short stories here and there.

I made this page on a spur of the moment decision, so maybe later I’ll update it some more and make it look like I know more about website design and WordPress than I actually do.

-Spencer Holly

My Strongest Quality 

Inspired by a writing prompt on Reddit. 

The world is a wonderfully confusing place. There was so much mystery surrounding the human race and the universe that we inhabit that sometimes, it felt as if we would never have all the answers. With every new discovery, countless questions would crop up, each with their own answer and set of follow up questions. The occurrence of familiars is quite a popular field of study, as nobody could possibly know where they came from or how exactly they manifested. Familiars tended to manifest during a persons life when they were just an inch away of finding themselves. They always took the shape of a creature that best physically represented their person’s strongest, or greatest quality, and served to fulfill a role in that person’s life that no other human being was capable of filling.

I got mine when I was 21.

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