Raul Ramos y Sanchez's Blog, page 6
March 18, 2016
Author James Rollins: A Class Act
James Rollins has written dozens of novels, many of them best-sellers. As anyone who's penned a novel can tell you, good writing takes time. And Rollins is no slouch. His work is consistently ranked with other thriller giants like John Grisham, David Baldacci and James Patterson. Yet Rollins somehow finds the time to read the work of other authors and showcase their books alongside his own.
I found this out firsthand a few days ago.
On Jim's FantasticFiction page, along with his many titles, were novels he recommends. There, among books by several other authors, was the second novel of my Class H Trilogy, House Divided.
Jim Rollins is an example of what we should all strive to be, regardless of our endeavors: dedicated, hardworking, and generous. I'm honored by his recognition--as a fellow author and a class act.
Raul Ramos y Sanchez
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March 9, 2016
When the book is better than the movie
When the subject of books-into-movies comes up, almost everyone I know favors the book over the film. The most often cited reason? The book offers more depth of character and plot.
That’s not surprising when you do the math. Most books run 250 to 350 pages. The typical movie script is 100 pages long.
All the same, there’s an exception to every rule. Below is a short list of movies I think are better than the book. Have a different opinion? Feel free to share your thoughts.
Forrest GumpI found the novel by Winston Groom rambling and bizarre. In the book, Forrest is a stereotypical lug-of-a-lineman at Alabama who becomes an astronaut and has an extended relationship with a chimpanzee. Thank God the film’s producer kept the title and little else.
The Legend of Bagger VanceI’m a fan of Stephen Pressfield’s historical novels. But the film adaptation of his golf-themed book is more focused and richer in character. An outstanding performance by Will Smith really helped. I was also pleasantly surprised to find Robert Redford’s direction less treacly than usual.
Get ShortyI am messing with a demi-god in dissing Elmore Leonard. Over 20 of his novels were made into films—and I’ve loved many of them. But Get Shorty on the page seems slow and stale compared to its screen adaptation. Chili Palmer could be John Travolta’s best role ever—although that’s not saying much.
The Martian My hat is off to Andy Weir. Rare is the contemporary science fiction writer who hews to the laws of physics and resists invoking mystical forces. Still, the novel’s dialog and narrative are stilted at times. Ridley Scott transformed Weir’s well-intentioned effort into a captivating film.
Raul Ramos y Sanchez
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March 7, 2016
Just because you can write a book doesn’t mean you can sign one
As an author of 16 titles, you'd think author Ralph Keyes faces book signings with little trepidation. After reading Ralph's new essay for The American Scholar, I was relieved to find I was not alone in my angst over dedicating books. Enjoy Inscriber's Block, an inside look into the world of authors and our insecurities.
VIEW THE ARTICLE - (PDF)
Raul Ramos y Sanchez
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VIEW THE ARTICLE - (PDF)
Raul Ramos y Sanchez
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March 3, 2016
KKUP live: Cuban myths, El Trumpazo, music and more
When: Saturday March 5th 3-4 PM ET - Noon to 1 PM PT
Alma Latina - hosted by Jesus OroscoListen live on your laptop or computer
Hope you can join our conversation as host Jesus Orosco and I discuss...
Ted Cruz and Marco Rubio -- Cubanos or Latinos?
How El Trumpazo made his bones on Mexicans
Cuba: the reality vs. the media myth
Great music tooRaul Ramos y Sanchez
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February 20, 2016
PANCHO LAND now available in paperback and Nook eBook
PAPERBACKNook eBook
PANCHO LAND, the third novel of my Class H Trilogy, is now available in paperback and Nook eBook. I expected these other editions were just around the corner when the Kindle version was released in 2012. Now, nearly four years later, the stars have aligned and the other editions are finally available. Whew.
Anyway, it's an excuse to celebrate. So here is the honorary PANCHO LAND spokesperson Chi Chi Chihuahua with his take on the news.
Raul Ramos y Sanchez
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PANCHO LAND, the third novel of my Class H Trilogy, is now available in paperback and Nook eBook. I expected these other editions were just around the corner when the Kindle version was released in 2012. Now, nearly four years later, the stars have aligned and the other editions are finally available. Whew.Anyway, it's an excuse to celebrate. So here is the honorary PANCHO LAND spokesperson Chi Chi Chihuahua with his take on the news.
Raul Ramos y Sanchez
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February 18, 2016
South Korean soaps a hit in Cuba
Here's a head scratcher: In Cuba, subtitled South Korean soap operas are more popular than Mexican telenovelas broadcast in Spanish. (One of my cousins back on the island is hooked.) A quirky group, we Cubans.
Read the full story.
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Read the full story.
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February 16, 2016
Good judgment
An anthropologist once asked a Sioux tribal leader how he got to be chief.
“Good judgment,” said the chief.
“How does one acquire good judgment?” the anthropologist asked.
“Bad judgment,” the chief answered.
Raul Ramos y Sanchez
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February 14, 2016
A Return to Cuba Thaws Cold War Fears
The detente between the U.S. and Cuba continues to make headlines. Some in the Cuban-exile community are opposed to the change in U.S. policy--and they have a right to be concerned. Cuba is not a free country. Still, I believe we can create more change for the better through engagement than by continuing policies that have failed for over 50 years. Below is an essay I wrote that PBS carried as part of its launch of the Latino Americans documentary in 2013. I think the essay still has relevance today.
A Return to Cuba Thaws Cold War Fears
At the heart of almost every Cuban-American family is a tragedy. Most of us were torn apart from loved ones by the passions of ideology. In some cases, this included fear of reprisals and imprisonment. Many also lost personal property. Wounds like these do not heal easily. So my first visit to Cuba after 52 years in exile began with heavy apprehensions.
From the airliner’s window, my first glimpse of the Cuban coastline was a smudge of white in a bluish haze. Emerging from the clouds, a familiar sight came into view: Havana’s cluster of pale towers hugging the sea around the city’s pocket bay. From the air, it seemed little had changed since I’d last left my homeland as an eleven-year-old in 1961.
As the plane taxied to the terminal, a few fading signs on the buildings extolled the virtues of the socialist revolution. That seemed familiar as well. I’d left Havana with Cold War tensions near the breaking point between the U.S. and Cuba. In the previous 18 months the Bay of Pigs invasion and numerous bombings had rocked the island. Now, I was returning to a place where my most vivid memories included a wary militiaman in fatigues sitting at the street corner near our house, a Czech machine gun in his lap.
I’d been assured that the Cold War enmity and fear I remembered was in the past. Nonetheless, I was still leery about what kind of reception Cubans like me, who had left the island long ago, would receive from their countrymen. The answer came as I stepped outside the special terminal for charter flights from the U.S. carrying returning Cuban nationals.
Behind a waist-high fence stood a crowd five and six deep, faces turned like sunflowers toward the passengers emerging from the terminal. I suddenly knew what a movie star must feel on the red carpet. The longing and excitement in those faces was electrifying. From that moment on, I knew I was back home.
Riding through Havana in a small Russian sedan for the first time in five decades, my attention was divided. I wanted to catch up on years of family news with my cousin and her nearly-middle-aged-son I’d just met for the first time. But passing by outside the car were sights that loomed large in my memory: the flying-saucer dome of the Ciudad Deportiva stadium; the grater-like spire of the Jose Marti Monument above the roof of a taxi; the flat-roofed pastel-colored buildings nestled among the palms and majagua trees.
For the next seven days, I met with aunts, uncles and cousins I’d last seen as a child, along with an even bigger group: their descendants, born since I’d left Cuba. Even the youngest among them knew the story of my mother and me, the aunt who had divorced her husband and left with her son for the U.S. long ago. This family lore was kept alive on both sides of the Florida Straits. My mother had told her three children – two of whom had been born in the U.S. – a wealth of stories about her relatives in Cuba. These family traditions converged in a series of emotional reunions filled with hugs, laughter, tears, singing and dancing.
Sadly, my mother never made it back to her homeland. She passed away quietly two months before our trip. True to her resolute spirit, we persevered and celebrated her life among the family who never forgot her.
After a few days on the island, my Midwestern, German-Irish wife became a Cuban. Captivated by my family – and they by her – my wife caught the Cuban vibe of uninhibited expression. At our gatherings, she began enthusiastically addressing the entire family (usually at least 20 people) in her skimpy Spanish, something she rarely did with her own family back home. In true Cuban fashion, my wife even invented a word in Spanish for the many large and lively family get-togethers we were attending. “Are you ready for another day of familia-son?” she asked me with a smile our fourth morning on the island. (Cubans often add “son” to a word, giving it the same hyperbolic context as adding the prefix “uber” in English.)
Along with our family gatherings, we found a warm reception among many other Cubans in public places as well. There are shortages of all kinds on the island. But humor and verve are in overwhelming supply. Many of Havana’s residents will charm you with an exuberance that transcends the city’s worn and grimy buildings. Moreover, unlike many urban areas in the U.S. and Latin America, tourists and locals casually walk the streets of Havana day and night.
A wise person once observed that anything you can say about a nation is true. Cuba is a complex place and my impressions of the island are limited and subjective. There are other Cuban exiles who still harbor feelings too powerful to visit Cuba until there is a regime change on the island. They have my sympathy and compassion. All the same, Cuba is changing.
The Soviet Union is no more. The Berlin Wall has fallen. The U.S. now trades with former enemies China and Vietnam. But the U.S. ostracism of Cuba endures, a Cold War relic as anachronistic as the 1950’s U.S. cars that famously cruise Havana’s streets.
Ironically, Cuba’s diplomatic banishment is primarily sustained by the island’s own exiles in the United States. Should we continue the embargo that has failed to topple the Castro regime for over 50 years? Or is there another path for Cuba to emerge from its political and economic woes without turmoil and bloodshed? I don’t have the answer. But a visit to the island may be the first step for my landsmen. My trip to Cuba left me with a glimmer of hope for the future. Our culture’s reverence for family may ultimately transcend politics and help us forge a better nation. Perhaps the time has come for warmth of family to thaw the Cold War.
Raul Ramos y Sanchez
[image error]
A Return to Cuba Thaws Cold War Fears
At the heart of almost every Cuban-American family is a tragedy. Most of us were torn apart from loved ones by the passions of ideology. In some cases, this included fear of reprisals and imprisonment. Many also lost personal property. Wounds like these do not heal easily. So my first visit to Cuba after 52 years in exile began with heavy apprehensions.
From the airliner’s window, my first glimpse of the Cuban coastline was a smudge of white in a bluish haze. Emerging from the clouds, a familiar sight came into view: Havana’s cluster of pale towers hugging the sea around the city’s pocket bay. From the air, it seemed little had changed since I’d last left my homeland as an eleven-year-old in 1961.
As the plane taxied to the terminal, a few fading signs on the buildings extolled the virtues of the socialist revolution. That seemed familiar as well. I’d left Havana with Cold War tensions near the breaking point between the U.S. and Cuba. In the previous 18 months the Bay of Pigs invasion and numerous bombings had rocked the island. Now, I was returning to a place where my most vivid memories included a wary militiaman in fatigues sitting at the street corner near our house, a Czech machine gun in his lap.
I’d been assured that the Cold War enmity and fear I remembered was in the past. Nonetheless, I was still leery about what kind of reception Cubans like me, who had left the island long ago, would receive from their countrymen. The answer came as I stepped outside the special terminal for charter flights from the U.S. carrying returning Cuban nationals.
Behind a waist-high fence stood a crowd five and six deep, faces turned like sunflowers toward the passengers emerging from the terminal. I suddenly knew what a movie star must feel on the red carpet. The longing and excitement in those faces was electrifying. From that moment on, I knew I was back home.
Riding through Havana in a small Russian sedan for the first time in five decades, my attention was divided. I wanted to catch up on years of family news with my cousin and her nearly-middle-aged-son I’d just met for the first time. But passing by outside the car were sights that loomed large in my memory: the flying-saucer dome of the Ciudad Deportiva stadium; the grater-like spire of the Jose Marti Monument above the roof of a taxi; the flat-roofed pastel-colored buildings nestled among the palms and majagua trees.
For the next seven days, I met with aunts, uncles and cousins I’d last seen as a child, along with an even bigger group: their descendants, born since I’d left Cuba. Even the youngest among them knew the story of my mother and me, the aunt who had divorced her husband and left with her son for the U.S. long ago. This family lore was kept alive on both sides of the Florida Straits. My mother had told her three children – two of whom had been born in the U.S. – a wealth of stories about her relatives in Cuba. These family traditions converged in a series of emotional reunions filled with hugs, laughter, tears, singing and dancing.
Sadly, my mother never made it back to her homeland. She passed away quietly two months before our trip. True to her resolute spirit, we persevered and celebrated her life among the family who never forgot her.
After a few days on the island, my Midwestern, German-Irish wife became a Cuban. Captivated by my family – and they by her – my wife caught the Cuban vibe of uninhibited expression. At our gatherings, she began enthusiastically addressing the entire family (usually at least 20 people) in her skimpy Spanish, something she rarely did with her own family back home. In true Cuban fashion, my wife even invented a word in Spanish for the many large and lively family get-togethers we were attending. “Are you ready for another day of familia-son?” she asked me with a smile our fourth morning on the island. (Cubans often add “son” to a word, giving it the same hyperbolic context as adding the prefix “uber” in English.)
Along with our family gatherings, we found a warm reception among many other Cubans in public places as well. There are shortages of all kinds on the island. But humor and verve are in overwhelming supply. Many of Havana’s residents will charm you with an exuberance that transcends the city’s worn and grimy buildings. Moreover, unlike many urban areas in the U.S. and Latin America, tourists and locals casually walk the streets of Havana day and night.
A wise person once observed that anything you can say about a nation is true. Cuba is a complex place and my impressions of the island are limited and subjective. There are other Cuban exiles who still harbor feelings too powerful to visit Cuba until there is a regime change on the island. They have my sympathy and compassion. All the same, Cuba is changing.
The Soviet Union is no more. The Berlin Wall has fallen. The U.S. now trades with former enemies China and Vietnam. But the U.S. ostracism of Cuba endures, a Cold War relic as anachronistic as the 1950’s U.S. cars that famously cruise Havana’s streets.
Ironically, Cuba’s diplomatic banishment is primarily sustained by the island’s own exiles in the United States. Should we continue the embargo that has failed to topple the Castro regime for over 50 years? Or is there another path for Cuba to emerge from its political and economic woes without turmoil and bloodshed? I don’t have the answer. But a visit to the island may be the first step for my landsmen. My trip to Cuba left me with a glimmer of hope for the future. Our culture’s reverence for family may ultimately transcend politics and help us forge a better nation. Perhaps the time has come for warmth of family to thaw the Cold War.
Raul Ramos y Sanchez
[image error]
February 12, 2016
32 years later, Apple has become Big Brother
In 1984 Apple ran an ad during the Super Bowl that was stunning in its innovative approach. Directed by Ridley Scott, the ad borrowed from George Orwell’s novel 1984 with Apple presenting itself as the champion of the individual battling heroically against Big Brother. The villain was IBM, the monolithic giant with a stranglehold on the computer industry.
“It is now 1984. It appears IBM wants it all,” Apple founder Steve Jobs said in a keynote address. “Will Big Blue dominate the entire computer industry? The entire information age? Was George Orwell right about 1984?"
Fast-forward 32 years. Today, the corporate monolith is Apple. As an author, I can attest to this firsthand.
Apple’s price-fixingWriters and content creators were caught in the crossfire in the battle between Apple, Amazon and the major book publishers as they fought to wring every last penny of profit from authors and readers alike. Ultimately, Apple agreed to pay $450 million to settle a lawsuit that claimed Apple “harmed consumers by conspiring with five publishers to raise e-book prices.”
Draconian book submissionsDespite its setback in court, the market share of the Apple iBook was growing. So I decided to expand the offering of my third novel, PANCHO LAND, to the iBook format. That soon introduced me to the hard, cold face of a corporate monolith.
Before the book could be uploaded, I was forced to complete a number of financial and tax forms that required sensitive information. Reluctantly, I continued. After completing the surprisingly byzantine process (isn’t everything Apple supposed to be clean and simple?), I hit a stone wall. Turns out, I could not upload the manuscript from my Windows PC.
Frustrated, I decided to cancel the submission and let the publisher handle the upload through another distribution source. Most importantly, I was concerned about all the personal information I had provided and wanted it deleted. That’s when the irony of Apple’s 1984 ad smacked me in the face.
I received an email from the iTunes Store Legal Team that read:
We are unable to terminate your eBooks contract at this time. According to the terms and conditions of the contract, the contract must remain in effect for a full year.
I replied to the email and asked Apple to reconsider, pointing out that I had no intention of submitting a book. I got a robot-like response that seemed the equivalent of a middle-finger salute.
In order to upload books, providers must agree to the book agreement. As you have agreed to the terms and conditions of the contract, please contact us within 30 days of [one year after my submission date] to terminate your contract.
In other words: Sorry about your luck, pal.
If that isn’t the voice of Big Brother, I don’t know what is. (I should point out here that no other eBook publisher that I’m aware of asks content creators to provide financial and tax information BEFORE they have uploaded their content.)
Nonetheless, as Apple’s Super Bowl ad so powerfully conveyed back in 1984, individuals must fight back against the monolith.
This blog post is my toss of the sledge hammer. I hope others will join me.
Raul Ramos y Sanchez
[image error]
“It is now 1984. It appears IBM wants it all,” Apple founder Steve Jobs said in a keynote address. “Will Big Blue dominate the entire computer industry? The entire information age? Was George Orwell right about 1984?"
Fast-forward 32 years. Today, the corporate monolith is Apple. As an author, I can attest to this firsthand.
Apple’s price-fixingWriters and content creators were caught in the crossfire in the battle between Apple, Amazon and the major book publishers as they fought to wring every last penny of profit from authors and readers alike. Ultimately, Apple agreed to pay $450 million to settle a lawsuit that claimed Apple “harmed consumers by conspiring with five publishers to raise e-book prices.”
Draconian book submissionsDespite its setback in court, the market share of the Apple iBook was growing. So I decided to expand the offering of my third novel, PANCHO LAND, to the iBook format. That soon introduced me to the hard, cold face of a corporate monolith.
Before the book could be uploaded, I was forced to complete a number of financial and tax forms that required sensitive information. Reluctantly, I continued. After completing the surprisingly byzantine process (isn’t everything Apple supposed to be clean and simple?), I hit a stone wall. Turns out, I could not upload the manuscript from my Windows PC.
Frustrated, I decided to cancel the submission and let the publisher handle the upload through another distribution source. Most importantly, I was concerned about all the personal information I had provided and wanted it deleted. That’s when the irony of Apple’s 1984 ad smacked me in the face.
I received an email from the iTunes Store Legal Team that read:
We are unable to terminate your eBooks contract at this time. According to the terms and conditions of the contract, the contract must remain in effect for a full year.
I replied to the email and asked Apple to reconsider, pointing out that I had no intention of submitting a book. I got a robot-like response that seemed the equivalent of a middle-finger salute.
In order to upload books, providers must agree to the book agreement. As you have agreed to the terms and conditions of the contract, please contact us within 30 days of [one year after my submission date] to terminate your contract.
In other words: Sorry about your luck, pal.
If that isn’t the voice of Big Brother, I don’t know what is. (I should point out here that no other eBook publisher that I’m aware of asks content creators to provide financial and tax information BEFORE they have uploaded their content.)
Nonetheless, as Apple’s Super Bowl ad so powerfully conveyed back in 1984, individuals must fight back against the monolith.
This blog post is my toss of the sledge hammer. I hope others will join me.
Raul Ramos y Sanchez
[image error]
February 8, 2016
The Hiatus is Over
It’s been a while since I posted an article on my blog. Over two years, in fact.
One of the reasons for the hiatus is time—or lack thereof. I found myself spending more time on social media and less time writing. One novel later, I have come up for air.
I’ll be sharing more about my new novel over the next few months until its release by Beck & Branch Publishers in June. Until then, here’s a peek at the cover and synopsis.
If you’d like to know more, get in touch. I’d love to hear from you.
Raul Ramos y Sanchez
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One of the reasons for the hiatus is time—or lack thereof. I found myself spending more time on social media and less time writing. One novel later, I have come up for air.
I’ll be sharing more about my new novel over the next few months until its release by Beck & Branch Publishers in June. Until then, here’s a peek at the cover and synopsis.
Surfers, soul brothers, hippies, and thugs—they’re all part of Victor “Skinny” Delgado’s world growing up in Miami during the turbulent 1960s. Fleeing the Castro regime in Cuba, Skinny’s once-wealthy family moves from a mansion in Havana to a roach-infested bungalow in Miami’s low-rent Wynwood district. Over the next ten years the Delgados struggle to survive in this strange new land—a place where fat men in red suits enter your home through the chimney, demons appear at the door begging for candy, and young women go on dates without chaperones. There’s only one constant in Skinny's world as he grows from 8 to 18. He longs in vain for the girl of his dreams: his neighbor Janice Bockman who seems everything American—and everything he’s not.
If you’d like to know more, get in touch. I’d love to hear from you.
Raul Ramos y Sanchez
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