Boshra Rasti's Blog

Peace is not a Cop-Out

I read that the origin of war is in the heart. That once the heart is purified, honored, and all beings are held with the same love we ourselves would give a child, that fruitless wars would end.

I still firmly believe this. If the worst villain would have an epiphany of the heart, our world could drastically change. If 7 billion people on this planet could strive for betterment than we’d have a more peaceful world.

A moral approach is not a cop-out, it is a gate way to addressing conflicts and ...

Everywhere Inside

The post Everywhere Inside appeared first on Boshra Writes.

Now Ruz: The Promise of Spring, the Promise of a New Day

Literally Now Ruz means “new day” in Persian. It is the annual  Persian New Year, celebrated usually on March 20th.

Its history dates back to Zoroastrianism, a religion that revered the sun and fire.  Zarathustra, the prophet of Zoroastrianism, suggested that the new year be celebrated with grand feasts, music and dance. People wear their newest clothes, exchange gifts and clean their homes to prepare for the new year.

Now Ruz is a time of renewal and happiness. The triumph of the spring over th...

NowRuz: The Promise of Spring, the Promise of a New Day

Literally NowRuz meaning “new day” in Persian. It is the annual  Persian New Year, celebrated usually on March 20th.

Its history dates back to Zoroastrianism, a religion that revered the sun and fire.  Zarathustra, the prophet of Zoroastrianism, suggested that the new year be celebrated with grand feasts, music and dance. People wear their newest clothes, exchange gifts and clean their homes to prepare for the new year.

Now Ruz is a time of renewal and happiness. The triumph of the spring over t...

Homicidal Theocrats: Not just the Stuff of Dystopia

“The limits of tyrants are prescribed by the endurance of those whom they oppress” – Frederick Douglass

When emotions run this high, I turn to the meditative beauty of poetry. May we have WOMEN – LIFE – FREEDOM.

To Live Free

 

When there is nothing left, but to run towards the bullets,

To tear your veils and set it alight – 

Like so many lighthouses

Caught in the night.

 

But this storm will pass, the bullets will cease

And all the bloodshed will be replaced with peace.

 

Not the peace from your...

A Balancing Act: The Struggling Artist

The inertia boils down to this: I love two opposing forces.
What a novel it would be to marry these two: a demon and a saint; a wolverine and a fairy; a creator and a destroyer.
I love my day job; but I also love writing; sadly, the two are all-consuming. My inner muse, the writer in me, cannot be knit with her other half. Any teacher knows how consuming it is: waking up at a God-forsaken hour to prepare for the children; answering a myriad of questions during the day; managing the chaos of conf...

The Ecstasy and Pain of Reviews

The shine has not lost its luster. When I type “Goodreads” in my address bar and notice there is another book review for Surrogate Colony or Surrogate Code, my fingers shake.

The feeling is raw, real, and ready to tear my heart, and reveal my deepest insecurities. When the review is positive, it is a buzz that follows me for days. It is like a hit of cocaine. It is what keeps me writing. I never experienced this feeling with anything else; not years of gymnastics competitions, not public speakin...

Writing Poetry Vs. Writing A Novel

This post was originally published on the following link

In its elemental form, poetry is a feeling that overcomes a writer, like a fever. It is instinctual, of the spirit, of the building blocks of sound, pattern, rhythm, and word. 

I believe that poetry is embedded in everything, like primordial DNA that longs to be uncoded, and, for some, it is second nature to decode it. They are the babies that stop crying when they hear someone speak in lofty tongues. They are the infants whose eyes shin...

Midlife Writing

Today, it is official, I am ‘over-the-hill’.  

Before e-cards were a thing (nobody had a computer then or knew about the internet), I remember shopping at Hallmark with my mother for a card for someone who had just turned 40.  I explicitly remember a picture of a hill on the front of the card and chucking to myself when I opened the card, “you may be over the hill…but I still love you, you old fart.” 

Being 41 is a strange feeling:  I’ve lived half my life; I have crows-feet forming around my ey...

Why Sequels are so Darn Hard to Write

When I started Surrogate Colony over seven years ago, I had no idea that there would be a day when it would be published; and that people would actually like it. It is immensely challenging to write a novel. There are just so many aspects to consider: genre, character development, plot development, hitting all the right beats, where to start, what point of view to write in, where to end, limited or omniscient point of view.  The options and subtleties are endless and dizzying. 

Then comes market...