Category: Uncategorized

  • Day 17 – Quick Pop-In

    Welp, as you can see by my inconsistent posting is because i have not been consistent with my writing. As of this writing i am at 13,595 new words. Kris is at… (Tony checks his email) Egads! 35,994 words. Safe to say i will not be catching up or staying with her which is fine.

    The things that stopped me were and are:

    1. “Celebrating.” While i finished a super-cool story because of this challenge and also had another half-finished story in the wings, i thought, “No prob. Not keeping up with Kris. Why not take a day off?” Big mistake. All momentum went fart sound.
    2. “Project Block.” As you well know, there is no such thing as writer’s block but Project Block. Since i’m writing into the dark these days ala Stephen King (e.g. no outline) i tend to freeze in fear. Just ’cause i’ve published a few books doesn’t mean the O.G. of original fears don’t come up: I Don’t Know What To Write! Of course the answer is easy. Write the next sentence. And the next. Easy to say, hard to do.
    3. “Work/Health.” Not sure if it’s because i took two different vaccines over two weeks or what, but i fell into a depressive funk last week. Work was actually great! I don’t like getting hit with a stick and work has been very nice with my lack of energy and my sensitivity towards being unappreciated. It had nothing to do with that. I was just swamped with work. I was working or napping. That’s it.

    So, this is where i was and am.

    Also, i haven’t been sending my blog updates as emails ’cause these are not regular “marketing” emails but more like exaggerated social media posts. I’ma say screw it and just send these along with an email notice. If it’s too much, i figure you can just unsubscribe.

  • What Will Be Your Legacy?

    What Will Be Your Legacy?

    I get a lot of slack for being too serious or not having enough fun. I readily admit that I have a stick up my butt the size of full grown oak tree but there are several reasons for that. One reason I can be such a prude is, legacy.

    We are all leaving behind a legacy that was never possible before. With the advent of the Internet, we are now leaving a trail that will forever follow us, even after we’re gone. In 2,000 years your bones will be dust but that image of you drinking a beer will live on. And is that how you want to be remembered? Is that the legacy you want to leave here on earth?

    “Here lies John Doe. He liked arguing with people on screens. He spent most of his life looking at his phone. His preferred attire were shorts since he enjoyed exposing his legs for the world to see.”

    Or,

    “Here lies Jane Doe. She liked complaining about everything, talking about what she’d like to do and never actually doing it.”

    Life is so short, so fast that, as soon as your born, your’e just counting down the days till your death. I don’t mean to come off as a nihilist, but just honest about the limited time we have on this earth and what we can accomplish in that short time. My truth is, we live on this earth for a short time to prove we are worthy to live in the next life for an eternity, but that’s another story for another day. What we are talking about here is, what we are leaving behind, on this earth, once we’re gone.

    Before, humankind didn’t need to worry too much about this. Either you were a king or a pauper and the former would live in the eternal hall of fame that we call history. But not so anymore. Now, everyone, from the leaders of the world to those that clean their toilets will have some type of legacy left behind, a record, that shows what that person did with their lives, forever.

    Given that we now have this huge, daunting, pressure of legacy that is now on all of us, you would think that mankind would do a better job of reaching for their goals, but sadly, we are not.

    I think that it will take about a century or two for people to appreciate the legacies that we are now leaving behind. In a few decades we will all be dead. And at these funerals will be scenes of us holding beer bongs and wearing fake mustaches at weddings. Maybe there will even be a 15-minute slide show to showcase all the food and drinks you consumed that you thought were so important to share.

    That’s the legacy we are leaving.

    What about children? Yes, that’s how we pass on our genetic legacy but it has nothing to do with what we have actually done. If your proudest moment of accomplishment comes from the fact that you got drunk and horny and forgot the condoms a few times, I’m sorry, but that’s not really climbing Mount Everest.

    And while your genes may live on in your children and their children’s children and so on, your memory will be all but forgotten to everyone who knew you since they will all be dead too. All your future decedents will search up who their great-great-grandparent was and see someone who enjoyed taking pictures of their feet while on vacation.

    There is so much more to you than that, to all of us. It’s scary, I know, but we have to try. Even if you don’t succeed in reaching your dreams, at least you will be better remembered as someone who tried than someone who just went through life, coasting on whatever path was made for you.

    That’s why, for me, my writing has become so important.

    For the last two to three years I have rarely gone out. Few parties and nightclubs. I mean, sure, I have gone to them and will continue to go to them, but I’m there for a half hour, tops. It feels like such an empty waste of time. I have spent the last few years writing a novel, particularly, on weekends when I have more time. While it might seem crazy to be “working” on the weekends, it’s actually been fun…for the most part. Trust me, there have been more days of me doubting myself and wanting to stop than those few, special days when I feel “flow” and the words just come out and I feel like a complete human being. Fleeting, but worth it.

    My book might sell five copies. I am terrified that it will be horrible, something that my friends and family can throw in my face for the rest of my life. “You worked on this garbage? You do have a legacy all right Tony. It’s called crap.”

    But that’s just my inner-critic, my Daily Dragon, doing what it does best. I may not leave a legacy of great work or art, even though that is my dream. My legacy might very well just be that I tried. But that’s good enough for me. More than most can say.

    I tried.

  • We’ve Been Wrong The Whole Time

    Handi-Man-Living-Color-Wayans-h1

    This week, the National Hemophilia Foundation is having their annual meeting in Dallas Texas. This wonderful meeting is America’s premier bleeding disorder yearly reunion. And it got me thinking about two themes that I have been told nearly all my life as a person living with hemophilia. Those two things are, one, that people with hemophilia are not handicapped or disabled and that, two, people with hemophilia are an inspiration to others. Both are, mostly, false. I say mostly because, the advancements in hemophilia have left the younger generation free from major joint damage. But besides that, many of us are disabled and handicap and all of us are no one to look up to.

    Looking at the first distinction, the handicapped or disabled label, people are quick to say that we are not. While we can all agree that being disabled or handicapped is not a goal or something anyone should aspire to, for those of us that do have mobility issues, we should not feel shamed or feel less than the next person just because we have mobility issues.

    It took me a long time to realize that and I still fall into the trap every once in a while. It took me forever to get a handicap license plate. Why? Because I was too proud. Because being disabled was “bad.” Well, I am handicapped. I am disabled. I am a cripple. And you know what? There’s absolutely nothing wrong with it. It just is what it is.

    On the other side, the bleeding disorder community also promotes a culture of victim hood, as if our pains and troubles make us someone to look up to. It’s a funny balance to hear too since, while people are trying to pass the first belief (you’re not handicapped / disabled) they also try to juggle the second which is, that we’re some type of heroes for what we are dealing with. Which of course, according to view one, is nothing.

    These two beliefs have been propagated to our community from a place of well meaning. It makes people disabled with hemophilia deny their disability (making one not feel bad) while making us out as role models (so we can feel good about ourselves). While they mean well they, to me, do more harm then good.

    It makes a person with hemophilia feel proud of having a bleeding disorder and there is no greater wrong on earth than pride.

    This “you’re not disabled / you’re a hero” is actually creating people who are disabled and anti-heroes ironically enough by living a sedentary life without any goals. After all, why should anyone aspire to anything if they’re already perfect? Not only is nothing wrong with you, you’re also someone people should look up to.

    I hear people trying to balance these two views with a myriad of excuses. It’s a delicate balancing act of bull feces that has been ingrained into our heads.

    So what are we then?

    For some they are disabled. For others, they are not. Regardless if you are or aren’t, that doesn’t make you bad. It just makes you either disabled or not. No biggie.

    So then are we heroes? Heck to the no. First responders like police, fire, and paramedics, those people are heroes. People in the military, those people are heroes. We’re just people who walk funny and have owies.

    I guess what I’m trying to say is, at the end, we are all the same. People who are physically more healthy than me can be more unhealthy in their emotional, financial, spiritual, or emotional health than me. The old saying that we all have our cross to bear is true. Just because someone might be at a disadvantage to the eyes, doesn’t mean that that person’s life isn’t easier than the so called “healthy one.”

    When people mope and complain about their physical ills, they’re more times than not just looking for sympathy. Since everyone is battling their own demons of equal weight this person does get the empathy they want all though not in the form they want it. It comes off as pathetic.

    So to all my blood brothers and sisters out there reading this, quit feeling bad for yourself and, more importantly, stop feeling proud of yourself. You haven’t done anything yet. And that’s a good thing.

    That means that we still have a lot more to do with our lives.

    That means there is so much more to life than just having hemophilia.

    That means that we accept that we have our setback, sure, but so does everyone else. And that setback is nothing to be ashamed of.

    That means that maybe one day we will be someone that people look up to through our own work, not to what just happened to happen to us.

  • Our Collective Suicide

    Narcissus (Caravaggio)
    Narcissus (Caravaggio)

    According to the Ovid, Narcissus was a young hunter who put himself first before everyone else. Enamored with himself and him alone, Narcissus led a vain life filled with doing nothing but loving himself and only doing what he wanted first.

    Then one day Echo saw him and fell in love. Echo started following Narcissus. She loved him so much, she would even repeat everything he said. When Narcissus learned of Echo, he chastised her. He didn’t want anyone to bother him and interrupt him from loving himself. Heartbroken, Echo ran away, forever hiding in the small holes of caves.

    Nemesis was furious when she found out about this. Nemesis was the spirit who would humble those who affronted the gods.

    Nemesis decided to have Narcissus look at a pond. The pond was as smooth as glass and that’s when Narcissus saw himself for the first time. He didn’t know that he was looking at himself, he just thought he saw something beautiful. Realizing that he could never see anything more beautiful, he drowned himself.

    And that’s what we are doing to ourselves. We are slowly killing ourselves one selfie at a time. We may be physically alive but our souls are dead.

    Our vanity is making us love ourselves so much that we are now destroying our relationships with others. We would rather love the false idea of ourselves than creating new connections. We are so self centered and self involved, we are now pushing away those that would better us.

    Water gives life. It can also destroy. Our smart phones can help us get to a gas station, but they can also make us yearn for approval.

    Narcissus had water. We have technology. At the end, our admiration of that same reflection will be the demise of many.

  • I Fell in Love in Paris

    Eiffel Tower in the background. Photo by the author.
    Eiffel Tower in the background. Photo by the author.

    I fell in love in Paris. Cliche, yes, but also very true.

    A few years ago I had the opportunity to visit France for a World Federation of Hemophilia conference they were having there. Every two years, the WFH holds an international congress, and that year it fell in Paris.

    I didn’t know what to expect from Paris or the meeting. The latter was a bit disappointing, not because the WFH does a poor job of putting together a meeting, far from it. Their congress is probably one of the best in the world that provides some of the most useful information out there. And that’s what the problem for me was. I’m just a layman and this was designed for medical professionals. Which it should be. The greatest and smartest minds in the world of bleeding disorders get together and share their ideas.

    The good takeaway from the meeting was the several activities they had. I had the opportunity to meet some amazing people from around the world involved with hemophilia. So even though the congress wasn’t directed towards someone like me, I still had the chance to reap the amazing reward of meeting folks from all corners of the world.

    Is this where I met my love in Paris? No. I met her in the streets of Paris.

    I met her at the Louvre.

    I met her next to the river Seine.

    Don’t worry, this isn’t some analogy for falling in love with a city or a place. I genuinely fell in love with a woman there. I’ll explain.

    Back home, in Phoenix, I was seeing this girl. We had a lot in common yet were as different as night and day. We loved to read and think. Our conversations flowed because it was like talking to someone you’ve know your whole life who knows you better than you. Yet our differences were pronounced too. Not just our ethnicities, she was white, but she was very feminine where I could be brash. We were the perfect mix of commonalities and differences. There was only one problem. Me.

    I took her for granted. Something I have done previously with other women. I knew I had her so I didn’t try to have her.

    When I was in Paris, I met amazing people, women too. But my mind kept going back to Phoenix, going back to her.

    I thought about how only she would appreciate the sights and sounds that I was witnessing. Sure, everyone loves the Eiffel Tower and the Mona Lisa, but she would’ve loved the history and all the backend stuff that only bookish people like us would be interested in. And that’s when I realized, in Paris, away from her, that I loved her.

    When I returned home I waited a few days, trying to play it cool. I sent her a message and it took awhile for her to get back to me. After a day or so, she got back to me and told me we needed to talk.

    We couldn’t see each other anymore, she informed me.

    You see, I was the other man. She was dating a wonderful guy. Seriously, everything I heard about the guy just showed me how great he was. Her and I just met and hit it off too well.

    But she finally told me that she had come to grips with the fact that what she was doing was wrong. That the guy she was officially seeing was great. She didn’t say it was easy, but I’m sure it wasn’t that hard either.

    I understood. Should I have fought for her? I don’t know, I still don’t. I never was or planned to be a home wrecker. It was just that this woman and I happened to meet at the wrong time, that’s really it.

    I could have had her when I was in Phoenix, before I left, but I decided not to. When I came home and was ready to take her, she was gone.

    I fell in love in Paris. Too bad I didn’t earlier.

  • On Franco-American Relations

    Voeux 2015

    This morning I awoke to the nicest news from France, only to then hear some of the worse and it made me reflect on the state of Franco-American relations.

    I woke up this morning and did my morning prayers. I woke up a little late and had a doctor’s appointment so I was in a little rush. I had enough time though to open my phone and check my e-mail.

    There I saw the most lovely message from my friends in France, Dorothée and Mayeul Fournier. They were wishing me a Happy New Year. It felt great to get that note from France and to know that I was in their thoughts. I was smiling.

    But no sooner had I began to smile, that that happiness turned to shock and sadness. I then checked social media and saw responses towards Islamic terrorism. I wasn’t sure what was going on but I knew something wasn’t good. After a few more moments I soon learned about the horrific massacre on France’s media.

    This post is not to talk about our shared threat, Islamic extremism, but to touch more on the friendship between our two countries.

    How Many Americans View the French

    Americans, unless we know it or not, are taught, subtlety, to hate the French. This may come as a shock to my French friends, but not my American ones.

    I truly and honestly believe that it comes from a defensive reaction. Americans think that the French don’t like us so we in turn don’t like them. It’s like an act of preemptive hate. Ridiculous.

    Now there have been some strains with our first ally, no doubt about it. During the 2003 Invasion of Iraq, France was one of the loudest voices against military action in Iraq. I, and many other Americans, were furious that our so called ally, would halt us from stopping what many considered a clear and present danger to the United States and her allies.

    I remember telling people that, if I ever travelled to Europe and had to do a layover in France, I would ask for a wheelchair so that I could get transferred across the airport so my feet wouldn’t touch French soil. Yeah, I hated France that much.

    And it wasn’t hard either. At the end of the day the blame falls solely on my shoulders for being so naive but it didn’t help that I was brought up in a culture where disliking the French was part and parcel with watching baseball.

    How Many French View Americans

    Then, a few years ago, I had the opportunity to travel to France for the first time. I had gotten over my anger and was genuinely looking forward to it. I was there for humanitarian reasons as the World Hemophilia Conference was being held in Paris that summer and was on my way to Macedonia, where I was helping their Hemophilia community.

    I remember my first day on the Champs-Élysées, strolling and looking at the sights (the girls) when I started noticing something strange. I started seeing tons of people in pro-American clothing. Mostly takes on the American flag, but still, there was a large number of French people wearing American themed outfits. I was stunned. By the end of the day I counted at least five French people wearing US themed garb.

    The next day I hit the Champs-Élysées again, this time, with a more open eye. I was sure that all the French people wearing USA stuff must’ve been a fluke, some type of strange chance that I just happened to be upon. And sure enough by the time I had lunch at my favorite French restaurant, Quick (it’s there McDonald’s), I had only counted three. The world seemed right again.

    Then, like clockwork, I saw more French people in USA clothing. In the next hour or so, I counted up to seven people! I couldn’t take it anymore and I saw a French girl standing outside a clothing shop wearing American flag shorts. I had to ask what the deal was.

    “We fucking love America,” was her response. Consequently, she also designed the shorts herself.

    I quickly learned that the French not only like Americans, but they loved us. And when I thought about how most of my countrymen hate the French, I felt horrible.

    But Aren’t the French Rude?

    Yes and no. I tell people this; how would you like it if people came up to you and spoke gibberish expecting you to understand them? You wouldn’t like it either, in fact, it would probably make you angry to the point that you may come off rude yourself. Armed with my limited French, I could say things like, “Excuse me, I don’t speak French. Sorry. Do you understand English or Spanish?” One-hundred percent of the time I would get a happy response, friendly smile, and help that almost became embarrassing. When I would ask a French person for directions they would literally walk with you for a bit to make sure you would’t get lost. I haven’t felt that sort of welcome in any other country. The reason they were so nice? I tried a little, that’s it. I spoke enough of their language that they then became receptive towards me. They weren’t rude because I wasn’t rude.

    Which brings me to another point. A friend of mine pointed out that one time, in Paris, it took them forever to get serviced until they had to call the waiter over. At first I was understanding but then later realized his unintentional mistake.

    Would you like it if some stranger came into your house, didn’t say a word, and just started grabbing food from your fridge? No, of course you wouldn’t but that’s nearly the same thing as walking into a restaurant in France and not announcing yourself with a hello. Walking in and taking a seat without being shown is the near equivalent.

    How were they dressed? Was it the “American suit” of a t-shirt and baseball hat? Americans have some of the worse hygiene in the world, visually. We stink up places with our sweatpants, shorts, and t-shirts.

    In short, the French and Parisians can be rude, just like any other culture. We just have to remember that we can be the ones that are being rude and not actually knowing it.

    Franco-American Friendship

    Americans like to remind the French and the English that they wouldn’t be under German control right now if it wasn’t for America, but Americans also tend to forget that without the French, we would still be kneeling to an English crown. Next to George Washington, the most important man in creating a free United States of America is Lafayette, a Frenchman.

    Yet here we are, 2015, and Americans feel closer to our first enemy, the British, than our first friend, the French. Meanwhile anti-Americanism sentiment is higher in Britain than it is in France. We have it so backward here.

    What Should We Do?

    Americans should do two things. One, remember our history and, two, have the same love and concern that the French have for us.

    I’ll close with this final thought. I have only cheered on two national soccer teams in person in my life, the US and France. It doesn’t make me less of an American because I support the French, if anything, it makes more of one.

    Allez les Bleus!

    Stade de France

  • The Writing Myth

    IMG_2769.JPG

    So this is like my fourth or fifth post on the craft of writing, but this is the one that I’ve been itching to write about. The myth of writing.

    First, what is craft? I keep saying that word and if you’re a new writer, you’ll be hearing a lot of it too. Craft simply means the art and creation of writing. There is a ton of stuff that goes into creative writing. You have to learn how to master as much as you can, all these different skill sets to get better at the entire act of writing fiction. I’m not sure there will ever be an all around great writer, but your job is to not be bad at a lot of the aspects but trying to be good or at least better than average on all the different aspects of writing.

    You can be good at description but stink like a gym sock when it comes to dialogue. Your grammar might suck. You can’t really spell that good. You don’t understand the basics of story structure. You don’t know how to create suspense. You don’t know how to organize your ideas. The list goes on and on, and all these things make up what people call the craft of writing. (By the way, I can be pretty bad at all of them.) Our job as writers is to get better at all these different aspects of writing. Which brings me to the subject of this post, the writing myth.

    There has been a long debate as to what is commercial fiction and what is literary fiction. I think there isn’t one. It’s just that there are some book snobs and then there are not.

    For most of my life, I bought into the writing myth too. I thought like most people, great writers were just born with it, having a great book inside of them just waiting to come out and then one day – BAM – while their hair has grayed they sit down for the next two to six years in a cabin or somewhere in Africa and then out comes nothing but pure genius.  That’s not how it works.

    Writing, is like any art. You need to practice and do a lot of it. That’s it. You can talk about painting and playing a guitar all day. You can read about painting and playing a guitar all day. Heck, you can dream about that painting and song all day too, but at the end of the day, the only thing that will get you closer to painting that painting and playing that song is to, wait for it, start painting and playing. Crazy, I know.

    Sure, there are flukes, freaks of nature, but they are not the norm, they are the exception. There are examples of folks who wrote their first book and it was genius, but for the rest of us, most of the time, to learn something, you have to practice the skill over and over.

    That’s why it irks me about literary snobs. There’s the rightful saying that those that can’t, teach, but I also think that there should be something along the lines of, those who can’t create art, critique.

    Take some of the best writing that has come out in the past few years. Like Stephen King’s 11-22-63 and John Grisham’s Sycamore Row. Had these two books come from a new writer, they’d be getting awards and acclamations up the wazoo, but instead, since these men have created previous works that – gasp – appealed to large sections of the public and have also written some clunkers, these books are to be just recognized but not applauded for the great pieces that they are. Hot tip people, that’s not how it works, that’s not how anything in life works. No one just grabs a guitar or a paintbrush one day and knocks out a Rembrandt or a Stairway to Heaven. What it takes is a lot trial and error, mostly error.

    As of right now, I have three works in different parts of disarray. A novel and two short stories, both for my eyes only. Every time I look at them, I am so unhappy because as a person and a writer, I keep changing and growing. Things I was once proud of I now hang my head in shame about. Why? Because it’s a process, that’s why. And if you want to get good at this writing thing, you need to swing your bat and strike out more than you get hits.

    So when it comes to your writing, don’t expect to write your Magnum Opus the first time out. It does, but rarely, happen. Instead, just do what nearly all successful writers do. Suck a lot. First in private, then in public. Eventually, you’ll stop sucking and something good will come out. As for those who will then hold your first or early works against you for your entire writing career, it doesn’t matter. They were too scared to suck and played it safe anyway. Don’t let their envy be a reason for you not reaching your success.

  • I am a Writer

    IMG_2760One of the first things you need to do is change your attitude. You need to stop thinking of yourself as someone who may write, to someone who does write. Again, I can hear your excuse making mind (more on that weasel in later posts) doing what he does best, make excuses. “But I haven’t written anything yet! How am I a writer? I’m still reading your stupid blog posts!” First, thank you for reading my stupid blog posts. It’s nice to know someone is. Second, you can’t get to where you want to go unless you start acting like it.

    It’s sort of like someone who is successful at losing weight. Where most people say to themselves, “I’m overweight by a hundred pounds,” and that thinking gets them nowhere, you need to think like those that do lose the weight instead. Most of there minds think, “Okay. I’m a fit person. Starting today and now, I am an exercising, health food eating freak. It’s just who I am. These extra 100 pounds? No problem, I’ll just do what I do and it will come off eventually, because I’m healthy.”

    And that’s what you need to do to. Not lose a hundred pounds because you look wonderful. Trust me. I’m an Internet blog post from the past. What I mean is, you need to start thinking and acting like a writer.

    Now, I’m not saying you run into your boss’s room and quit your job and announce to the world that you’re gonna write the next Harry Potter, once you buy some pens first. You can even keep it to yourself. But the most important thing is, look at yourself as a writer. Treat yourself as a writer. Act like a writer. Eventually, you’ll become a writer.

    This mindset does several things. Of course the first thing folks think about is the confidence it gives you. That’ not bad. But what really matters is how you look at the world, and in turn, yourself. You start reading books on the craft of writing or watch an interview of your favorite author. Only this time, you’re not a fan but his or her equal. It’s a mental game changer.

    When you start reading books like a writer, or watch movies and television like a writer, or just walk around thinking your a writer, you will become that writer faster than someone who was full of doubt.

    Now, this doesn’t mean you should just daydream and do nothing. On the contrary. You need to get into the habit of writing above all things. (If you haven’t noticed yet, I’ll be saying those words over and over again, habit and writing.) There is nothing more important than actually writing something, anything. It is better than writing nothing at all. However, this slight change in thinking, this paradigm shift, will make your sitting that much more important.

    Guess what I suggest you do know? That’s right, write.

    No, seriously. Stop reading this.

    You’re still reading this and not writing. Why are you reading this?

  • Where to Start

    IMG_2761On my last post, I ended with saying that aspiring writers need to get into the habit of writing. Okay, so you turned off the Internet, opened up an empty document, or grabbed a pen an paper, and you just sat there, frozen. I thought this writing thing would be easier?

    Writing isn’t easy, but it isn’t hard either. Like most things, getting started is the hardest part. So what should you do when you’re stuck at the blank screen?

    Journal

    Just write about your day. What’s on your thoughts or your mind. Anything at all. The important thing is to just write for the sake of writing. Once you do this, you are 180 degrees from where you were; someone who was dreaming about writing, to actually writing. I can already hear your objections through the magic of space and time, “What does me talking about my laundry have to do with my space western zombie story?” Everything. Again, I cannot stress how important the act of actually writing is.

    Is you, sitting around, writing about how the room you’re in looks actually part of the novel you have in your mind. Yes! Especially if you’ve never really written before. We are talking about not writing, as much as getting into the habit of writing.

    Look at it this way. If you spend a week not writing, after that week is done, you would have finished exactly no writing. But if you wrote everyday, just for five minutes, you will more than likely write at least one sentence about your WIP (work in progress) which is 100% more than the first example.

    Journal About Your WIP

    Write about your story. You don’t have to write your story, but it wouldn’t hurt. Just start by talking to yourself. It could look something like this:

    okay. here i am. i was reading this webpage by this dumb guy named tony hernandez and dude was sayin that i just need to write and that anything is better than nothing. well here i am! nothing. see, he is stupid. I should have listened to everyone who gave him a bad review. But he also said to write about my story. I’m not even sure what it is! i mean, there’s a cowboy and he’s in space. but why is he a cowboy in space? I guess he’s like a sherif or something. Yeah! that’s it. he’s the sheriff of a planet, or a star system. Whatever. and then, a zombie apocalypse brakes out on a spaceship and he needs to check it out.

    And so on and so on. Seriously. Just write. If journaling doesn’t start it, then talk to yourself about the story. What scene is it? Where are you stuck? What do you want your story to be about? Sometimes, you’ll have a scene in your head. Write it! Just write anything. And then, do it again later. Either that day, but at least the next.

  • On Writing

    IMG_2757This will be the first of hopefully many posts on the art, craft, and creation of writing. It will be by no means extensive or the magical one-stop shop for all aspiring writers needs. What this will be, is a journal on my thoughts and experiences that I’ve had as a would-be writer. Lord willing, I become some sort of successful writer one day and this will help other writers go from dreamers to creators. And most importantly, save them from the mistakes that I made.

    Where I Am

    To understand where I am I guess I need to start where I began.

    First of all, my status is: unpublished. Pretty gutsy for a guy who hasn’t had a single word written to think that one day people would want to come back and hear what I had to say about the process. Call it cocky, call it confident. I think I’m a pretty good writer and I hope that one day my work will reach an audience. An audience that includes future writers.

    It all began with an idea, a what if that rolled around my mind. I am keeping my work’s title private now, so we’ll just call it Red Corvette. Like most story tellers, I had this idea for a story, the big event that happens in Red Corvette. It ate at me and ate at me, until I had enough and thought that I wanted to write this. I needed to write.

    So where do you start as a writer when you haven’t written anything in your life?

    That was the question that I had, like most writers. I grew up poor and was a high school dropout. The closest thing I ever came to a creative writing class was when I went to community college and took a pre-English 101 class, because I failed to place. There was a time where we free wrote for sometime in our class in our journals. I loved it! But like most of my schooling endeavors, I quit.

    I bring this up because I want to bang home the fact that I have had zero creative writing teaching classes. If you hate my work, you probably already knew that. No fancy diploma or literary background. Just a kid from the barrios of West Side Phoenix and a dream.

    So how did I start off my writing? With perseverance.

    When you don’t know something, the first thing you do is search the Internet and I was no different. I read tons of articles and blog posts. Read some posts on message boards. But mostly, I searched Amazon for books on writing.

    I told myself that I would buy one, maybe two, books on writing. That was nearly forty books ago. I cannot stress enough how important it is to buy, and read, books on the craft. More on that later.

    The first book I bought was The 90-Day Novel, by Alan Watt. After looking at so many books, I finally decided on that one. It was getting great reviews and it seemed to answer my questions I had about writing. The results were instantaneous. Just after the first exercises I was rockin’ and rollin’, getting the creative thoughts from my head onto paper. It was great.

    Not sure how long after that, maybe a week or two, but then my writing fizzled out. I won’t blame the book, heck, I give it the highest recommendation since it helped me start my path to writing, but it was too unstructured for me. I didn’t know that at the time, but it was my first real foray into the writing process.

    It had done it’s job though. I knew I could write, and more importantly, I loved it! I knew there was something there. I just needed the right guidance.

    So again I went to the World Wide Web and continued to search and search. I came across a writing workshop by Holly Lisle. Again, highest recommendations. What sold me on one of her products, How to Think Sideways, was her wonderful book, Mugging the Muse. This book is jam packed with tons of stuff that every new writer should be aware of. I bought the How to Think Sideways course and was well on my way to becoming a creative writer.

    Then I went to a hemophilia summer camp.

    I am not blaming the interruption of my studies for the fact that I was not getting everything out of the course. More than not, it had fallen into the same issue that happened with my first book; I got what I needed from it.

    These two resources are invaluable but I needed more. So I broke my rule and I bought another book on the craft (art) of writing.

    And then I bought more. And then more.

    I have now bought quiet a bit of e-books on writing and their paper counter parts. I have probably spent about three to four-hundred dollars on writing material. If you’re scoffing at this, old Tony would have too! But now I realize, that as someone who had no education in writing, spending under $500 was nothing compared to all the knowledge and insight I’d be missing if I didn’t buy them. In fact, it pales in comparison to what people pay in college. That wouldn’t even cover a semester of a creative writing school!

    So I guess that’s what my first, major point is. Get as many resources as possible. You don’t need to buy them, but it doesn’t hurt. Start by reading what other aspiring writers do. Go to kboards Writer’s Cafe. Trust me, I wish I would have done this earlier. Do an Internet search of [your favorite author] and [writing process]. More times than not, you’ll get some cool links to some interviews they have given.

    Also, diversify your intake. Don’t just read about writing, check out videos, and listen to audio books. My favorite audio book is the inspiration to the title of this blog post, Stephan King’s On Writing. Part autobiography, part writing class, it is all great to listen to the master talk about the craft of writing and his journey. Plus, since he reads it, it’s probably the only time most of us will get to hang out with the man.

    And finally, just do it. Just write. Something. Anything. Don’t wait for perfect conditions.  If you’re reading this now, odds are you’re on the Internet so that means you’re on a computer. Close your Internet browser and open up a text document and just start writing. Every computer has one, even the most basic text DOS will work.

    Don’t have a computer? Grab a pen and a piece of paper. Just write already! The hardest part is starting. Stop waiting for the stars to aline. Tip: they never will. Read about writing. Watch about writing. Listen about writing. And most importably, write. I don’t care if it’s a pencil on a napkin or an envelope, just start doing the most important thing when it comes to writing; getting into the habit of actually writing. Then you step back from that envelope, and if you want, you can toss those few sentences away in the trash can. But everything will be different. You’ll no longer be someone who wishes they were a writer, but you’ll officially be one, a writer.

    Welcome to the club.