Finding Time To Write: Guest Blog with Hunter Shea

In the early days of my writing journey, my biggest dilemma wasn’t writer’s block, searching for the perfect story idea or how to get published. It was how to find the time to actually sit down and write. In the 90s, I started dabbling in writing short stories when my wife was severely ill and in and out of the hospital for a couple of years. Writing became a means of escape, but it soon turned into a passion. I moved up to writing a novella, then a novel (a romantic comedy of all things), all while mostly being home alone with nothing else to do but worry. 

Thankfully, my wife got better and before we knew it, we had two babies enter our lives when every doctor but one told us it could never, would never happen. In the early years of having two beautiful babies that needed our full-time attention, not much writing got done. I wanted to write a horror novel, the horror genre being my true love, but I knew there was no way I could dedicate the necessary time. So, I cranked out short stories when I could. What I didn’t do was stop writing altogether because I knew I had a lot to learn, and I just enjoyed that time with my keyboard, even when there were crying babies in the next room. 

When my girls entered the toddler stage, I thought it was time to get to work on that novel. I read every Leisure Horror book that came out, and desperately wanted to be published by them (and work with dream editor Don D’Auria). I had what I felt was a great story. I just needed to dedicate my time. The issue was, with a handicapped wife, two children and a full-time job, how the heck was I going to find the time?

And here’s where the most important part comes in. What every writer in a similar situation needs is a partner who fully supports them. And man, did I hit the lottery. I knew I was going to have to give up slacker time, which usually consisted of vegging out in front of the TV when I was plain exhausted. My wife made sure to keep the kids occupied every night for at least an hour or two while I closed the bedroom door and wrote. I usually started around seven or eight pm, clamping on headphones and listening to movie soundtracks to drown out any noise at home. The only caveat was that the music couldn’t have any lyrics, so the words didn’t mess with my flow. 

I wrote every single night, and then would try to get in more writing on the weekends before the kids were up and running around. Now, even with that time, it still took almost two years to get that first book all the way to the end. There were necessary interruptions, and sometimes I was just plain exhausted, where even getting a paragraph down was a victory. That book became Forest of Shadows, and it was miraculously signed by Leisure books. Alas, they imploded before the ink was dry, and I was devastated. For the first time in a decade, I stopped writing altogether for about a year. I was so downright depressed that I had come so close and watched my dreams fall apart. 

But it was my wife who encouraged me to get back in the chair because she saw how much joy the process of writing gave me. To give this kind of support to a person who had very few writing credits under their belt is beyond incredible. I mean, here I was, locked in a room, missing time with my family, missing family events, missing trips to the movies or ballgame, for what? A dream? A wish? Sure, I could self-publish, but I wanted to do it the old-fashioned way and succeed or fail on my own merits. 

Well, Don D’Auria eventually came calling to me this time around when he found a new publisher, and I was off to the races. With an actual published book on my resume, I was fully dedicated to writing as much as I could. The girls were older now and had lived with a father who stayed in his room for some time each night. They understood the routine, and I have to say, very rarely came knocking when they heard key tapping on the other side of the door. By keeping to a schedule, my body and brain became accustomed to lock into create mode each and every day. I switched my hours at my job so I was home earlier and could knock out my writing and still play with the kids and put them to bed at night. With this routine in place, I was comfortably able to write a novel and two novellas each year. 

The key to it all is support, consistency, and as my friend likes to say, compulsion. I can never thank my wife enough for giving me that daily space to do what I love. And now that my girls are in their twenties, I think I’m prepared for the day when grandchildren are running around the house and I’m slipping off for a bit to write while I hear my wife say, “Grandpa’s writing, but he’ll be out soon and you can play.”

We Are Always Watching

Hunter Shea

Genre: Horror

Publisher: Dark Wolf Books

Date of Publication: 5/27/2025

ISBN: 979-8895679234

ASIN: B0F3QTH2WK

Number of pages: 353

Word Count: 94K

Tagline: They See Everything. They Know Everything. And They Never Stop Watching…

Book Description:

When West Ridley’s family is forced to abandon New York for a crumbling Pennsylvania farmhouse, he expects misery—but nothing could prepare him for the horrors lurking within its walls. His father’s worsening illness, his mother’s exhaustion, and his grandfather’s drunken ramblings paint a bleak picture of their new reality. But it’s the eerie warnings and shadowed figures that truly unnerve him.

The words “WE SEE YOU” scrawled on his ceiling are just the beginning. Something sinister roams the halls at night, whispering through the silence, watching from the darkness. Grandpa Abraham swears the house is haunted. But the truth is far worse than restless spirits—because in this house, secrets are buried deep, and the Guardians will do anything to keep them hidden.

As the Ridleys unravel the mysteries of their new home, one thing becomes chillingly clear: escape is impossible. No matter where they go, the watchers remain.

A pulse-pounding horror thriller packed with eerie suspense, We Are Always Watching is perfect for fans of Stephen King, Paul Tremblay, and haunted house stories that linger long after the last page. Dare to uncover the truth? Order your copy today—before they see you first.

Amazon    BN     Dark Wolf Books

Excerpt:

His foot crunched on a three-foot long stick. It was gnarled and thick, a perfect walking stick and weed slasher. Whisking it back and forth, he swatted at the wild vegeta tion, heading for the woodpile. It would make a great bonfire. He’d never been to one in person, but he’d seen plenty in movies, especially the flicks from the ’80s with teen campers in peril.

West loved those movies, especially the parts where girls took off their shirts and either went skinny dipping or had sex in the woods or an empty cabin. Actresses took their clothes off a lot back then. He’d never even seen a naked boob until Anthony showed him this strange astronaut/vampire flick called Lifeforce. The girl vampire was totally naked, front and back, for half the movie. West’s mind was blown. Horror, sci-fi, and his first naked woman. The constant flip-flopping between arousal and terror left him both exhausted and too tired to sleep that night.

Something crashed through the brush to his left. He stopped, the hairs on the back of his neck rising. There was a garbled growl. The sounds of two cats tussling gave his nerves sweet relief. Not wanting to get in the middle of their fight, he veered to the right.

Closing in on the haphazard mound of wood, he realized what it was. The farm would have had a barn at one time. It must have collapsed decades ago. The old walls and floorboards were blighted by the sun and elements. The stench of decay grew stronger with each step. Weeds grew through the gaps, some of them so thick, they hid whole sections of the former barn. “I wonder what took you down,” he said, lifting boards here and there with the tip of his sneaker. The ground beneath it was black as pitch and had an odd smell, like something scorched and long forgotten. Could have been a fire. Or maybe it was a storm, some hurricane that sent people to their cellars. That is, if hurricanes happened in this part of Pennsylvania.

Did Grandpa Abraham’s place have a storm cellar? And what about a fruit cellar? He heard about them all the time, especially when it came to places for crazed killers to hide bodies. What was the point of a fruit cellar? Why stick your fruit in some hole?

There was sudden movement in the brush behind him. He waited for one of the cats to slink into view. The sound didn’t repeat itself and no cats came out to play. West felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. He had the very uncomfortable feeling that he was being watched.

Out here, surrounded by the tall grass, anyone could be lurking.

He closed his eyes and saw the words on the ceiling over his bed. WE SEE YOU West was suddenly very uncomfortable. All of this was so alien to him, he felt as if he’d stepped into a place where he didn’t belong. “Time to go back inside.”

He trudged away from the collapsed barn, unable to shake the feeling that there were eyes at his back

 

 

About the Author: 

Often called THE KING OF THE CRYPTIDS, Hunter Shea is a lifelong horror hound and NY Times bestselling author of over forty books of monstrous mayhem, ghostly frights, and newfound terrors. Some of his bestselling books include the critically acclaimed Creature, They Rise, and The Montauk Monster, the nostalgic Money Back Guaranteed and One Size Eats All series, and Jessica Backman’s Death in the Afterlife paranormal trilogy. His books have been found in the International Cryptozoology Museum and his face on the Discovery Channel where he talks about, well, monsters.

He can be heard and seen on his two long-running podcasts, Final Guys and Monster Men, both informed and humorous explorations of horror’s best – and worst – movies, books, and video games, as well as interviews with some of the hottest writers, directors and producers in the genre. You’ll also find exciting first-hand accounts of true-life hauntings, UFOs, cryptid encounters and more.

Website – www.huntershea.com

Twitter – www.twitter.com/huntershea1

Facebook – www.facebook.com/huntershea1

Instagram – www.instagram.com/huntershea2017

Patreon – www.patreon.com/huntershea

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