Ruth E. Griffin

Storyteller

Designed with WordPress

Category: Uncategorized

  • I Love It When A Plan Comes Together

    by

    There were a lot of iconic shows in the 80s… 

    Knight Rider, Magnum PI, The Golden Girls, Hart to Hart… 

    I mean, yeah, sure, watching these shows now you can’t help but cringe and understand how bad they really were, but man, all that aside, they gave us some of the best quotes. 

    One of my favorites was from The A-Team, where ex-commandos Hannibal, Face, BA and Murdock risked life and limb on harebrained schemes to <insert mission here>. At the end of each episode, there was nothing more satisfying than to hear Hannibal proclaim, “I love it when a plan comes together.” 

    Those are the words I thought of when I started writing this entry.

    You see, I finished setting up my Patreon site today, where I am serializing Stepmothers Anonymous (in addition to Inkitt, Medium and Substack). 

    I am eighteen chapters into the story, having added about eleven chapters to my original count of 101, and getting back into the habit of writing weekly.

    I was going to wait until the serialization process was complete to create a print version, but am now working on printed, serial volumes, with original artwork for the covers. 

    I am also beginning the work for The Immortal Ana Ruiz, my next serial story, getting the artwork together and finalizing the first chapter to begin teasing you, my dear readers.

    I knew I would be working on some of these things when I began serializing Stepmothers Anonymous earlier this year, but others were a surprise, a pleasant surprise, expanding on the vision I had in my head for this part of my writing journey. 

    All of that to say…

  • Updating Stepmothers Anonymous

    by

    When I began serializing Stepmothers Anonymous, I created a list of details I wanted to update the story with:

    1. The mirror revelation
    2. Abbey’s friendship with Terry
    3. Unpacking from the honeymoon
    4. More Grace
    5. The cat talks!!
    6. Why Abbey really loses her job
    7. More aye-aye
    8. The lizard infestation by Election Day
    9. The beauty shop gossip

    Some of these were originally in the story but taken out, while others were part of the story I wanted to expound on but never got to. 

    I was able to coast with minimal editing up until Chapter 14, when I had to start writing new chapters. I am up to Chapter 17 now and I have to say that slipping back into the character’s voice was easy. 

    I say easy cautiously, because this last chapter was a doozy for me—I had to rewrite it several times until it “felt right.” I had to consider that what I was adding now would impact the story later, but also, that while the characters did, in fact, respond certain ways, as human beings, we tend to be reserved around other people until we learn to trust them. To this point, Abbey and Bradley are more comfortable with each other, but that trust isn’t there yet. To reveal more now would work against the flow of the story. 

    It is important to allow the characters to lead. Once you know them, once you understand their development, their beginning from their end, they are able to direct you (the writer) in telling their story. 

    I know one author who will often express surprise at what her characters do. She is the type of writer who doesn’t outline first, so she has to listen as she writes. 

    I am the opposite—I have to outline the story. I have to plot and plan, so there are no surprises. But I have learned to listen as well. 

    As I wrote Chapter 16, I kept trying to go one way during Abbey’s conversation with Bradley about the first point, but she would not settle there. She kept trying to steer me in a certain direction until I finally gave up and listened. The process added four extra hours to my writing, but it was time well-spent because the story flowed the way it needed to.

    And not just that, the longer I write, the more I see how well the process of serializing a story works with my brain. Most authors write at their own pace to complete their novels. Some have deadlines with their publishers, others have personal goals they’re trying to reach. Because I was often working on my own time, I struggled with getting the books written. Serializing Stepmothers Anonymous allows me to publish a chapter per week in 1,500-word chunks and share it with my audience as I go along. That, to me, is the best part about this process.  


    If you haven’t started reading yet, you can go here to begin. I’ve begun cross posting it across several sites, pick the one you prefer and start reading. Subscribe and new chapters will be sent to your email inbox. It is free and will remain free for the duration of the serialization.

    As always, thanks for following me along my writing journey.

  • Update; or What I’m Working On

    by

    Sometimes it’s good to stop and assess where you are and what you’re doing, especially after you’ve been away from your work for a bit. 

    I’ve been traveling for the last couple of months and haven’t been able to be as consistent in my writing, social media and editing as I would like. I maintain a calendar with my work laid out and it has been helpful to keep me on track, but not so much when my schedule is pushed out, pushed up, or non-existent.

    So now that I’m back home, I thought this would be a great time for a check-in. 

    1. Stepmothers Anonymous. I am fourteen chapters in. That’s approximately 13% of the estimated 105 chapters, which is great, now that I’ve gotten to the parts I wanted to add in. The biggest challenge has been to remember that what I write now will impact what happens later, so much thought has to be given to each detail to ensure that it doesn’t become a dead end. I’ve also added the serial novel to several other sites. So if you’re not a Substack fan, you can read the story on Medium, Inkitt, or Reddit, all for free. I am in the process of building my Patreon page so that will be an option as well and I plan to announce when that is complete. My hope is to grow my audience and eventually, look into creating my own site for serial stories—my own and others. 
    2. The Writer Within. I am still on track to release this book in early 2026. I am working on the final edit and will plan to share more information as well as excerpts in the next few weeks. I will also promote it on my other platforms (Authors Up and Studio Griffin). Check out the sites and follow me for the varied content. 
    3. The Immortal Ana Ruiz. This is my next serial, which will begin in January (fingers crossed). I have about 75% of the story written (first draft, so it needs editing) and I have no idea yet what I will do for the cover. It’s a coming of age story. This is a first for me, as I usually write romance, but as I discovered recently, my actual specialty is “angst” and you can write that in just about any genre. I’m going to focus on this in December and January. This story will be behind a paywall on Substack and Patreon. I’ll announce more about it soon. 

    In addition to the writing, I also handle the behind-the-scenes for Authors Up, the podcast I co-host. This includes scheduling guests, updating the website and running the social media sites, a full-time job in itself. 

    I am also working on rebranding my business, Studio Griffin. I have retired the hybrid publishing aspect of it to help authors self-publish, which means I edit, format and design covers, but also teach how to self-publish. Honestly, there’s a lot out there for authors on how to write, how to finish their book, how to make money from niche topics, but not a lot that I’ve seen to help them self-publish and keep control of their work. This is the area I want to focus on.

    Perhaps more aptly described as juggling, these are the project I am currently working on and as I am not planning to travel again for a few weeks, my hope is that I can make some traction and see what I can accomplish before my next check-in!

    As always, thanks again for coming along side me on my writing journey. Until next time. . I have retired the hybrid publishing aspect of it to help authors self-publish, which means I edit, format and design covers, but also teach how to self-publish. Honestly, there’s a lot out there for authors on how to write, how to finish their book, how to make money from niche topics, but not a lot that I’ve seen to help them self-publish and keep control of their work. This is the area I want to focus on.

    Perhaps more aptly described as juggling, these are the project I am currently working on and as I am not planning to travel again for a few weeks, my hope is that I can make some traction and see what I can accomplish before my next check-in!

    As always, thanks again for coming along side me on my writing journey. Until next time. 

  • Microfiction: Medievil

    by

    Fyren could feel his life force seeping out of his body. 

    But he had won. The emissary was dead and now he could demand restitution from Hagin without contestation. 

    “Ife!” he called, his hand pressing down on his belly to stem the bleeding. 

    No answer came. 

    He called for his servant again and attempted to stand. He was too weak though and fell back against the wall. He had to get up.

    The room darkened and Fyren looked up to see his servant standing over him, a blade in hand. 

    His anger surged. 

    “Help me,” he growled. 

    Ife remained quiet, glaring at him. 

    “Help me!” Fyren yelled again. 

    But Ife did not. Instead, he knelt beside him, causing Fyren to draw back. 

    “You thought yourself cruel, never thinking there could be one crueler than you.” 

    Ife looked him over then rose, bringing the sword up to Fyren’s hand, his chest, his face. Fyren then saw it was streaked red with blood. He noted the hilt and the ruby embedded within it. His eyes grew wide.

    “Where did you get that?”

    Ife smiled. 

    “Where’s Eya?” Fyren yelled, maddened by the thought of losing anything to him. “Where is she?”

    “She ran herself through with this sword,” the man responded indifferently. “And now the armies of Hagin are outside your door.”

    Fyren’s heart quickened. He would not be able to withstand them. They would overpower him; humiliate, beat and torture him. They would skin him alive—just as he had their kin. 

    “Kill me,” Fyren demanded. “It’s what you want.”

    “No,” Ife replied, defiantly. 

    “You know what they will do to me.”

    Ife’s smile returned.

    “Then I can return home in peace knowing you have none.”

  • Microfiction: Charlie’s Dad

    by

    *For the longest time, I was convinced I couldn’t write microfiction. I was adept in telling a story in 60,000+ words, not less. 

    Then one day I came across a microfiction of 250 words and my brain said, “You can do that.” 

    My brain is easily convinced of many things, things I can’t do under the best of circumstances and after extensive training, but it wasn’t wrong this time. 

    I gave it a go, using a story idea I had and found I was able to convey the emotions of the story in one moment of the tale. It confirmed my specialty wasn’t romance, but angst. That is my superpower when it comes to writing. 

    After my first book, I started compiling a list of stories I wanted to write, but eventually came to the conclusion I likely wouldn’t have the time to do so. With the realization that I was capable of writing microfiction, I decided to write those stories that way, taking a key moment to tell the story itself. That way, the ideas wouldn’t die with me if they never got written. 

    This is the third microfiction from that series. I have about eighty more to go. 

    “Why didn’t you tell me?”

    She doesn’t look at him, remaining quiet to the point where he doesn’t think she’ll respond. He wants her to say something—anything—but he also knows he can’t push her.  

    Eventually, she says, “I’ve screwed up everything I’ve ever touched. I had nothing, and I was nothing. I tried starting over, looking for something to give me hope. That’s why I came back for Charlie.” She pauses, her gaze down, refusing his. “But then we met and… I needed you. I needed to impress you, to show you that I was more than just a nobody—” 

    “But you’re not a nobody—”

    She doesn’t acknowledge his words. 

    “I know it was stupid and I don’t believe in fairy tales, but… I fell in love with you when we met and I wanted you to love me back.”

     He steps closer to her, into her space.

    “I do love you, Natalie,” he says, putting an emphasis on her true name and not the one he has come to know her by. “You were right when you said I had gotten so used to being alone. I was scared at how happy I was with you. The only thing I knew to do was push you away. But I can’t do that anymore. I want to be with you.”

    She finally looks up at him.  

    “I come with a lot of baggage,” she whispers. 

    “And I come with a lot of mileage,” he responds.  

    She utters no words, letting the tears speak for her. He brings his hand up to her face and wipes them away with his thumb. 

    “I love you, Natalie,” he says again.  

  • Microfiction: Sometimes There Are Only Dreams

    by

    “Are there happy endings?” I hear myself ask.

    “Sometimes, yes. Sometimes, no. Sometimes, there are only dreams,” comes the reply.

    And in the next moment, I am jarred out of my sleep. I don’t know where I am for a moment. But as my eyes acclimate to the dark, I begin to recognize what’s around me—the dresser, the wardrobe, the television, the luminescent clock that reads 4:04am. 

    I sigh with relief at the familiar setting, but now the questions begin: what was I dreaming? Who was I talking to? What about happy endings? 

    I can’t remember the details, but I am left with such a feeling of uncertainty, I don’t know what to think. Why can’t I remember anything else? What happened? 

    I woke up too quickly, I tell myself. 

    But there’s more to it than that. There’s something else, something foreboding, something unsettling. Why am I filled with apprehension? I want to let it go, but I don’t know what I’m holding onto. 

    It was just a feeling, go back to sleep. 

    But I don’t want to close my eyes, the sense of dread I woke up with still present, still gnawing at me. I want to forget what I’ve already forgotten. But I’m afraid if I do, I’ll go back to my dream. Then I’ll be forced to finish the conversation and discover the truth. 

    I lay with my eyes open, staring at the clock that still reads 4:04am. The minutes pass, but the time does not.

    I’m still in a dream.