Alex G. Zarate's Blog, page 9

Thanksgiving

I talked to a friend not long ago about my thoughts on being a writer. It may have come up after being asked something along the lines of why I haven’t put everything on hold so I can promote my works. Whatever the case, my answer was simple: “I’m a writer.”

Clearly that was not the answer that was being sought so I decided to explain.

I’m sending out messages in a bottle every night via twitter and posting an image on Instagram with another thought or two. I’m doing my best to post a weekly vlog and even though I try to post a monthly blog, balancing 10 hour work days makes it a struggle to do so. Writing a blog to me is like writing a journal that is being shown to the world. It’s not just a thought or two that I toss into the world wide web. It’s an expression of what I feel, think and hope for. It’s a way for an introvert like myself to share what’s going on between my ears.

I didn’t always see myself as a writer.

I doubted myself. Lots. I struggled for years as I worked long hours, tried different hobbies and did my best to hold onto something that made me happy. Drawing. Designing. Sculpting. Video editing and recording became wonderful outlets for my creative expressions, but inevitably they were all too hard to maintain and I left them behind.

In the end, I gave up on all of it. After one discouraging comment too many, I let it all go and descended into a daily work routine to pay bills and live a “Normal” life. I soon watched all my passions dry up until I was working at a job that had no future and was surrounded by co-workers, rather than friends and family.

It was at this time that I ran across a website promoting a writer’s challenge in November. I looked up the challenge on my 40th birthday and made myself a Jib Jab card that joked about getting old, going to the doctor, being out of shape, failing to accomplish your dreams and not writing a book.

It was funny.

I liked it and chuckled at the humor in it. Unfortunately, I also hated the truth it held. I was a “one day” novelist. I was going to write a book “One day” and deep down I always knew that day was never going to happen.

Seeing that challenge set for November, I decided to try one last time. I would rather have tried my best and failed than never to have tried and spent my life living in regret. So I worked up my courage and decided that if enough of that old passion was still around, I would see it through to the end. I told myself that for once in my life I was going to sink or swim. No matter the consequences, I was going to face that 30 day challenge in November and truly give it my all.

So at the end of November in 2008, I discovered two things:

First, I was subconsciously sabotaging myself at every turn.

Second, I wasn’t kidding about giving it my all.

I wrote the book in first person. My preferred point of view is third person, so I was out of my confort zone from the beginning. I wrote only during breaks at work, meaning I had only two fifteen minute gaps in the day to write. The weekends were my catch-up times and by the end, I barely made the 50,000 word limit.

Despite the struggles, I did what I said I would. I wrote a book. I may be wrong in the following statement, but for now it holds true. When I finished that first book and felt the finished story take shape within my mind, for the first time, my imagination and dreams became real.

That last day of November was the most important moment of my life.

I rediscovered my passion for writing. It didn’t matter how good or bad the book was. What mattered was what I felt. I felt peace at last, as if a great longing I had been trying to find had at last crossed my path and I knew what I wanted to do with my life. I also realized the truth.

I have always been a writer.

I have spent my life dreaming up stories and searching for ways to put them down. I’ve told stories using sculptures and illustrations as well as photography and video. Stories have always been like a companion. They are my passion. I can only assume that it was fate that led me to find the writing challenge. The stories are once more alive inside of me and I hope to refine and improve on my method so as to share my tales with others.

So this Thanksgiving day, I am thankful. Thankful for my friends who encouraged me to follow my dreams even when I wasn’t sure they were possible. Thankful to NaNoWriMo for the challenge they posed. Thanks to my family, distant and far removed, but always in my heart.

Lastly, thanks to Mugwai. My dearly departed cat, who inspired me with her presence and who gave me the companionship I yearned for without realizing how much she meant to me it until she was gone.

There are many others I could thank, but I will stop here.

Happy Thanksgiving to everyone seeking their purpose and following their dreams. May you all find your passions. I hope you also have friends, family and companions standing by you to help you through the difficlut times and celebrate your achievements.

Images

The writing process I have grown accustomed to entails many levels of involvement. As other new authors soon discover, writing the book is just step one. As soon as you are done with the story and have typed “The End” it is a great irony to find you are actually at the beginning. The steps following your book creation involve an array of publication and promotional avenues I barely grasp myself.

Don’t believe me? Well, have you seen me in the bestseller lists out there? No? Well, there you go.

Regardless, one of the things I enjoy about my process is the chapter illustrations. When I am writing a book for the first time and the story forms within my mind, I stop to think about what stands out in each chapter. What images do I see lingering in my mind’s eye after each scene? Which ones do I see clearly? Like a movie playing in my head, I rewind, fast-forward and pause the story as I examine each jewel. Once I have a number of selections to choose from for each chapter, I ask myself the most important question:

Which ones can I actually create?

Just like Blogging or Vlogging, illustrating is not something I am well versed in. I have always had an artistic side to me, but until recently have never attempted to put my skills to the test. Will I make a name for myself as the next Michelangelo? Unlikely. However, I am working on my craft every day. Just like writing, the skills of an artist take time and patience. I’ve got plenty of patience, despite the lack of time. So every chance I have to do something for my writing, I take.

I’ll describe a bit of the first and last image I tackled while working on the second edition of Linked. Recently, I went back to illustrate Linked. It is the first book of The Cat Rule Chronicles. As such, I was still becoming comfortable with writing books so I didn’t feel confident enough to attempt adding images to each chapter. There were images galore going through my mind after completing the fourth book in the series, so returning to book one was an amazing experience.

The first image I tackled was the cover. It needed something to differentiate itself from the first edition so I altered it, enhanced it, and made the eyes far more unique. It took me longer than most other images because I needed to keep the cover as close to the first one as possible while making sure it could never be confused with that of the first edition. I made it darker, added colors and thanks to the many tools in Photoshop, didn’t struggle with the fine details or changes as I would have in the past.

The final image I put together was a cliff. I went online and saw many mountainsides and many cliffs until I found one that came close. It didn’t have the curve I needed, but that wasn’t an issue. I used photoshop to crop the edge and turn it from a photograph into a line drawing I could stretch and shape. From there, I treated it like a canvas. The tools in Photoshop are like having every artists tool at your disposal along with every photo-manipulative tool at the ready. I re-shaped the cliff, added grass, darkened the rock and enhanced all colors. Next, I pulled up an image of a truck. Namely, the end of one. It was not as old as I would have liked, but as an illustration it would do just fine. I positioned it outside of the frame and then dragged pebbles and particles behind it with the brush tool, making it look as if it had gone over the cliff. Once the color was adjusted, I took a look a the sky and decided it needed something other than dull blue. I finally settled on a cloud covered sky with the sun hidden behind, illuminating the clouds and the sky dramatically.

I took that particular picture several years ago and was amazed at how well it converted from a photograph into an image more resembling an illustrated sky. Did I mention I like taking pictures of the sky, sunsets and scenery? It’s another thing I enjoy.

By the end, the illustration was perfect. I added it beneath the chapter listing. In this case, the Epilogue, and adjusted the color so it was as unified as could be. Why didn’t I just keep the images looking like photographs? I suppose with great effort, I could have done that. The problem I see is that I don’t want to make it seem as if my stories are too real. Depicting a kitten jumping out of a tree (Chapter 6) or a gun pointed at a boy (Chapter 14) would prove far more disturbing than entertaining if I chose to make them photo-realistic. Besides, not all images turn out as good as I’d like. Some are difficult despite their simplicity and others are just too busy to look good as simple illustrations. The final image of the truck over the cliff was a success which, despite the imagery, made for a good ending to book one of the series.

I enjoy the writing process and all it entails. Entering the world of storytelling has been one of hard lessons and difficulties. I am now writing, illustrating and editing my works where other writers might have multiple people handling every aspect separately. I am also vlogging, tweeting, Instagraming and, yes, blogging. I hope everyone who finds my works can enjoy something of my creations. Such passions are worth sharing.

Covers

Among the many things I have worked on since returning to the world of writing, illustrating has proved to be just as challenging as crafting the story itself. I usually begin with the cover art then go from one chapter to another, visualizing the scene as a whole and freezing each mental image I find until I have one I think would be good to work on.

When I started my first book, I used one image and kept it as the primary for every chapter. After a couple of books under my belt, I decided I wanted to see more. I felt it was just as important to have a chapter illustration as it was to have the cover image for the book.

Now, when I have a book idea, I work on the cover for weeks, assembling sketches and putting together graphics that fit what I envision for the story.

As an example, when I started writing my fourth book, Echoes of Innocence, I knew I wanted to have Tommy and Snowy on the cover facing opposite directions. The story leads them on different paths and I wanted a subtle indication for the reader. In the story, Tommy is distraught over the death of his friend and neighbor while Snowy is doing what he can to save a girl who accompanied the killer. In many ways, they are still together, but for the most part, they are seeing the world from a different perspective. With that in mind, here is how I tackled the cover design:

I always start the process of making my cover art with sketch ideas. Post-its work well for this because when I don’t care for a sketch, I can drop it and add another in its place. By the end, I have a handful of mini-sketches to work with.

Once I decide on one, I start working out how to make it into a cover. I don’t like to make illustrations that look photo-realistic. In my mind, covers that look too real remind me of romance novels. (Egad!)

Next, I find images that fit my idea. Usually I go into my archived pix folder to find something I can use. I take pictures of everything and often have what I need if I keep looking. Sadly, for Echoes, I fell short. The ripple on the ground was easy. Photoshop has tons of ways I can make ripples. There are even online tutorials that show how to do cool effects with colors and texture. Thanks, YouTube!

The problem I had was twofold. I did have the cat face I needed, (Yay!) but the cat’s body wasn’t in the correct position. I finally found an online video of a cat facing the wrong direction, but in the right position. (Well, as close as I could get) I captured the image, flipped it around then warped the body to the position I needed. Next, I put on the face I had and called it done.

The next problem was Tommy. I didn’t have an image of a boy in my archives. I have friends and sunsets, flowers and landscapes, but no pre-teen boys. Searching the internet didn’t do me any favors either. All images were either copy written or not in profile. The solution came from a friend of mine who had family pictures of her grandkids. One was facing to one side in a perfect profile. The wrong direction, sure, but Photoshop makes light work of that.

Since he was wearing a baseball cap, I deleted it and created hair. I copied the cat’s eyes and added them to the new Tommy. From here, I began the blending process for each section. His hair needed a little lengthening, so I added a few strokes. By the end, the cat’s face looked as if it belonged with the body I assembled. The hair and position of Tommy also looked well. His eyes were just right and the ripples at the bottom had the effect I wanted.

All that was left was the title and my name at the bottom.

Finally, I copied it onto the pdf book template and that was that. Huzzah! Cover be done!

Processing

Every writer has a process by which they tell stories. Some write only after creating an outline while others write without a plan. There are many labels for these types. Plotters and Pantsers, Architects and Gardeners, Macro and Micro Planners…

You get the gist.

For the more organized writer, you begin with an outline. Outlining involves organizing your story idea with enough detail that it becomes a manageable order of events. This is useful for chapter breaks and story arcs. Once the outline is complete, you know ahead of time what is going to happen so you plan for each twist as you go. Research is also a part of outlining. Information is readily accessible online, so printing out or copying the data makes for a much more efficient process. Maybe you need to know how bridges are made or how car windows shatter. Thanks to the internet, we have more information at our fingertips than ever before. Research might not always make it into your story, but understanding how things work makes for a better flow in the end. When you approach the process in an organized manner, research is a godsend.

For those who write with little or no organization, the process is more instinctive. It can be like reaching inside to find every block you have in your mind… then kicking them aside. Writing is the goal and little else. (Inner editors can stand in the corner and zip it.) When writing without a plan, there are no half measures possible. This process requires commitment. You take your spot in the story and just run with it. It might be at the beginning or it might be in the middle. Wherever it is, you take the scene and go. Following the characters becomes akin to taking dictation. The story becomes a movie in your head that is playing with you as a captive audience. Research is something that does not happen until after the story is done. If you have someone in your story with a serious wound and blood loss must be treated, you don’t stop to look up what the symptoms are or what must be done. You make a quick note and move on with the story. You can fill in the details later. Don’t know how to clean a gun, but your bad guy does? Look it up afterwards. When the story is done and your rollercoaster ride has concluded, you can let the editors back in. (Preferably a week or so later)

Editing will be necessary regardless of what method you use. Outlining lends itself to making more preparation, but edits are always needed. Writers don’t put down perfect words when they sit at a keyboard. Mistakes will creep in, repetitive words will happen again and again… Plot holes will grow… In the end, no matter what method you use, the story takes shape and the world you created will become your own.

What method do I use?

Honestly? Both. I outline and plan my stories that I work on throughout the year. Some will see publication soon and others will take years. I research and plan and outline with all the detail I can produce until the story is ready for me to tackle. I especially like finding quotes to add to the beginning of each chapter, giving a glimpse into what the chapter will reveal.

Then there’s November. Every year since 2008, I have taken up the National Novel Writing Month challenge. Basically, you shell out a 50,000 word first draft in 30 days. An outline would be nice for something like this, but with such a deadline looming, the best way I have found to tackle the challenge is writing without restraint. That means I have a general idea of what is going to happen as I sit down, then race the clock (and calendar). Some years are easier than others but for the most part, I’ve succeeded each time.

The point of meeting this challenge isn’t to create a perfect story. It’s to meet the word count of 50,000 words before the month of November is over. The point is to have something to work with. I can think and plan all I want, but without a written story, editing can never happen. A blank screen has no errors, but it also has nothing to work with. You need to edit and no matter what method you choose, you can’t edit until you write.

I enjoy both methods, but then again, I’m a glutton for punishment. And since I also illustrate my own books and book covers, even after the last page is written, there is still work to be done. Just like telling a tale, we recall the journey more than the destination. The journey of writing is always a worthy endeavor I enjoy each and every time.

Bugs

Writing bugs can be found in many places. Some are found at your local library. Others, in your favorite book, but for the most part, these little critters tend to hang out where you least expect. Some can reside in airplanes, subways, busses… even taxi cabs. I once discovered a particularly feisty one along a dusty trail in Santee, where no shade could be had and the sun had chosen to treat me like a burrito in a microwave.

Wherever you encounter these elusive little critters, know this: Their bite is much like a shot of adrenalin. Like all creative muses who float along the ether, writing bugs are drawn to that creative spark that resides within us all. They are attracted to it like a paperclip to an electromagnet. Yes, we are the magnet and our imagination is the crackling electricity that attracts them.

Their bite is like having a stun gun misfire in our hands. True, the initial jolt is a surprise and often we can mistake it for a break in the fabric of reality. After all, here you are, minding your own business when… ZAP! The plain, ordinary world at large suddenly is rendered irrelevant compared to the surrounding explosions of light and sensation.

Unlike an actual stun gun mishap, the writer’s bug leaves you with a sudden rush of ideas. Scenes from a great story can come to mind. A conversation can take place that you know has earth-shattering consequences. A new hero may have been pulled into existence before your eyes and there is only one thing to do about it.

Write.

Take these ideas/inspirations to the keyboard and write. Let them all out so that they can find life. See them through to the end. Once you have, the writing bug will let go. If you are lucky, it won’t go far. The meal you’ve given it has provided the little rascal with a sense of belonging and all you’ve lost is a little sleep, a little time and maybe (just maybe) a chunk of reality.

You won’t miss these things, believe me. In the end, time is supposed to be sacrificed while creating something anyway. Painters don’t mind giving it up when putting brush to canvas in order to produce a masterpiece. Sculptors don’t mind when they find a block of marble and take long exhaustive hours to the task of producing something amazing from what started out as a chunk of rock.

Writers are the same. We do not create with paint or stone. We create with words. Words are our medium and the blank screen or page is our canvas. From the emptiness around a cursor, we create more than a scene or conversation. We create worlds. These worlds can only grow and expand. In time, they may even find a place among the shelves in your favorite library or book store. When you next walk into these wondrous dream merchants, think on how all the bound stories and worlds ever made are now available to anyone brave enough to turn a page.

So don’t shy away from the writing bug when it comes up and takes a nibble. Enjoy the inspiration and the epiphany few others may share. Pet it softly. Keep it around and give it a name. I call mine Babs. Ride that story idea and lose track of time. Discover new worlds and never look back.

There are many of us traveling the paths of dreamland, after all. We seek adventure and find challenges at every turn. We have found monsters to slay and prisoners to free. Adversaries have risen against us and we have won great battles. Come along and dive into the rabbit hole, there’s always room for one more.

“Damn the torpedoes and full speed ahead!” As the saying goes. I’ll see you in the trenches.

Babs says “Hi” by the way.

Roads

A year comes and goes in a blink, yet at the start of the year it seems as if the road ahead will never end. Trials will be met and blocks will force us to go awry despite our best intentions. One year ago today, I started working at a new job with a new car and place to live. What a wild and crazy ride it has been. The road was long, yet looking back, it came and went before I could take a breath.

Each of us must travel such long roads in life. We begin innocent and naïve in our exploits, turning corners with anticipation and joy at discovering the new things life presents. Our childhood brings both joy and sorrow while our teen years quickly become an emotional rollercoaster that carries over to adulthood. Events shape our interactions with the world and choices direct our path.

Finding our way is always difficult.

No one is there to help you but you. There might be family and there might be friends who lend a helping hand or encourage you, but in the end all the decisions for what we do and where we go lies with us.

As an adult, we discover truths in life and find more to strive for and things to fear. Failure, regret, setbacks… These are obstacles that take us by surprise until we take fewer chances… turning corners with less confidence. We soon avoid looking at the world through the eyes of children, yet we do miss that innocence. The world grows darker as we age but when we discover a joyful time, event or moment of peace, we rejoice.

These times are as important as any life experience. Our path is long and life is never easy. An oasis along our path is a relief. These times bring comfort and warmth as when we were children, falling asleep peacefully… surrounded by family and love.

These are the times we need to reflect on. Breathe deep and look to where you have come from and where you are going. Let us re-orient our path and ensure we are pointed where we mean to go. Prepare for the next part of the journey. Don’t rush, don’t worry… just prepare. Be sure you see the next step and feel comfort that you are going where you want to.

Look up and find that spot in the horizon. Find that goal, that star, that wish you made back at the beginning. See the dream you had long ago. Feel the childhood excitement for what is to come.

Now take that next step into tomorrow.

Like or…

Over the past few years (Okay, decades) I have noticed a change in people around me. I am among the quiet folk, so I keep such observations to myself.

True, changes happen all the time. Weather changes from season to season. Cars change year after year. Technology changes more and more. This post, for instance, would have once been a mere journal entry or letter to the editor in some newspaper.

However, the change I mean has to do with how people like and “dislike”. I see it in Facebook and Twitter as well as Amazon and all other web sites dedicated to showing what is trending or what people are talking about.

When I went to school long ago, I recall people joining The Debate Club. It was simply a club where people would learn to argue with one another. What I remember most is how they would do this while still maintaining respect for one another. The job of each participant was simple: Find a topic that has opposing viewpoints and present the best argument so that in the end, one would be the winner. In order to do this, you would have to study everything about the opposite side and know why that argument is being presented. Once that is known, you take each point and do what you can to prove your point of view is better. It sounds simple, and for the most part, it was.

You could always tell who studied more because every time someone tried to argue a point with holes in their reasoning, the one who was prepared made their point more convincing. The opponent would then stutter or backtrack on their reasoning, trying to think of some way to save their side.

Failure was inevitable.

Rare was the evenly matched debaters who could stand toe to toe and argue a point endlessly, each giving convincing arguments for their side and neither stepping back. It was a good way of showing what was truly logical and what well-presented facts could accomplish in a debate.

Over the last few years I have watched several debates that made me think of those club members. These debates were in news shows, interviews, Town Hall meetings and web sites. Unfortunately, I no longer see anyone treated with respect in these places. Worse, I see the exact opposite of respect when it comes to arguing a point. I see people on television simply yelling at one another rather than listening to facts. I hear name calling and personal attacks that quickly deviate from the topic at hand.

In other words, rational discussions are becoming a thing of the past.

Look at a topic in a news site dealing with things that are important. It might be political in nature or religious. It might have to do with a coming movie or the price of gas. Lately, I have seen topics on police brutality and others on sexual orientation. Each of these fail to spark a handful of thoughtful comments from one person or another. Instead, they spark hundreds, or even thousands of attacks. Not only that, but the more sensitive the topic, the more the attacks tend to escalate, becoming personal attacks, swearing, threats and in the end, the original topic has no possible resolution.

When people refuse to listen to one another, the most convincing facts cannot be heard because hate is too prevalent. That is where I see topics go to these days: hate

It’s not just that you like this politician or dislike that one, it’s now about how much you hate that politician or party or group or religion or, or, or… Hate is quickly becoming the only means of debate. We no longer bring up how much we like something or someone. We hesitate. We stop and think twice instead of allowing ourselves to like what we like.

I like the Apple iPhone. I have liked how it works since its inception and I like what it can do. It is a useful gadget and I am amazed at how technology has brought us to this level of achievement.

But…

If I go on a news site and post my praise under an article showing the new i-gadget, the comments that follow might begin with a simple “Me too!” but end with personal attacks against me and the store that sells it, the cashier who sold it and the company as a whole. There appears to be no one teaching respect for one another in school anymore. No care for your fellow man and no self-respect by those who post hate-filled comments online.

Why?

Where did all this come from? I would much rather find others who like something and have a discussion about what it is and where it can go from there. I would prefer to say I like the new Avengers movie and talk about the comics that had the original story followed by where the movies will go from here. Instead, I will hear about what the actors might have said or done in an interview that people hate or what the director believes or doesn’t believe and even how unrealistic the special effects or action scenes are.

Really? It’s a movie! A form of entertainment! You’re not supposed to go in and find things to hate about it, you’re supposed to go in because it looks cool and you want to spend a couple of hours enjoying the story and action so you can depart from the real world within a given bubble of time.

Sadly, discussions have continued to degenerate all around us. Rational thought continues to fade. What’s the point of learning what is true and what isn’t when all you need to do is raise your voice and make personal attacks to shut the other person down? Stores are shut down if they don’t want to be forced to serve a wedding, cities are encouraged to riot and burn with no consideration for order or reason. Mindless destruction is now acceptable.

Schools are to blame as well as parents, but politicians are in the mix alongside the media. Those who were not around when News truly meant something and was watched by grownups for truth and world events can’t know what it was like to have a time when you could enjoy a day with friends and laugh… even when you took a different side.

We all have a different point of view. How can we not? We don’t live the same lives. We see different things and learn different lessons. What matters is what we do when we find someone who likes the opposite. Steak eater meets Vegan, Gay meets Straight, Democrat meets Republican, Apple meets Windows…

I like many things: The outdoors on a sunny day. Chocolate caramel ice cream. Gadgets that make things easier or more enjoyable. Writing down stories that I imagine and dream of. I also like tales of adventure, stories of true love, self-sacrifice… heroes. I even like some speeches given by politicians. Their party affiliation never matters to me and I hope it never does. If I start cheering for a team instead of a person then it is only a matter of time before that team can be switched out with those I would never want to support.

I would like to find out what it is that people like rather than the things they hate. Think of it as a balancing act. If you have a scale and you load one side with a few things you enjoy or people you like good feelings follow. However, if you overload the other side with things you hate, movies you despise and people you can’t stand, throwing one hatred after another into the mix… How long before you realize that the side of hate is making you lean your entire way of life in that direction until hate is the only side you see?

My hope and advice is simple: Stay positive in your life by adding “likes”. Add something every dat to your well-being. Add to your joys. Hate will subtract these from you if you let it.

The choice, as always, is yours.

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Blocks

I answered a question on this topic not long ago and wanted to expand for the sake of clarity.

Writer’s block is the scourge of wordsmiths the world over. There is no greater frustration than staring at a blank page or screen and finding vast emptiness before you, echoing with mocking hollow tones.

Life is often the culprit in this terrible malady. We get overworked, eat poorly, have an argument with your friends or simply go through the three most difficult triggers: Change residence, lose a job or lose someone close to you. This last one can range anywhere from a death to a breakup. Either way, it leaves you stunned and unable to do more than stare at a screen with little or no passion, wondering if the spark will ever return.

I have and continue to deal with these times in the same manner, which some of my fellow writers may or may not agree with. I treat writer’s block like a cold. It is a sickness that needs treatment and few ever agree on what treatment is best. We can’t simply prescribe orange juice and chicken soup when you can’t write, after all.

What I prefer as a remedy is simply these three things:

First, listen to music. Something inspirational. Something that makes your heart race as the first few seconds pull you in and you want nothing more than to lose yourself in the moment over and over again. Your music can be anything from classical to power ballads to theme music. It’s your choice. Find the music that drives you and let it carry you.

Second, watch television. Yes, the boob tube. The idiot box. That screen which turns rational thinking people into couch potatoes. You may not like it or you may be a recovering couch potato. Whatever the case may be, remember: This is another form of storytelling. There are amazing shows out there which tell stories that bring us to tears and have us at the end of our seats. There are adventures to be had and loves to make our heart sing. At the core of every great movie or show is a story. Find the great ones. Watch them. let them inspire you in your works.

Third… Read. It may be difficult considering you are struggling to put words down yourself, but reading is essential. We need words like we need air. Without reading our inner engine for stories sputters out and dies. We need to read someone else’s words. We need to go explore in someone else’s dreams. We may have vast dreams that span years of exploration and prompt us forward with every breath we take, but in the end, we dip into that well until it is dry. New stories bring us sparks of inspiration and glimpses into the worlds that inspired us to write in the first place. Drink deep of these other wells. Take in the stories and the adventures. Make them a part of you and know that your own are waiting for you to come back with a fresh perspective and a renewed sense of adventure.

It may take time, but just as a cold is burned away with proper treatment, feeding your writer’s block with the flames of inspiration will clear away all obstacles, allowing you to turn a blank page or screen into a symphony of renewed life, love and adventure.

The Unknown

I have joined a number of writing groups over the years and have an understanding that is clear to writers but not so much to readers. In fact, some readers can be shocked to learn a truth about fiction writing: We don’t know how it ends.

This is common knowledge for most writers I’ve met and we often take it for granted as we continue to work our craft. We find a story forming in our head and get excited to put it down. I think of it like sitting down to channel surf. You sit there and flip through the hundreds of shows without much interest until one catches your eye. Maybe it has just started and you look at it thinking: “Wow! That looks cool. I think I’ll check this out.” Maybe it was an action scene or some unique twist on a common story… but you sit and watch.

That’s how it works.

We may be at our desk, in the shower or even taking a long walk when an idea comes to mind. We see it take shape and grow excited. Where will it go? At the moment it happens, it doesn’t matter. The story has begun. It might be smack dab in the middle of a tale or at the very beginning, whichever it may be… it reveals nothing of the end. Then, like an excited reader, we watch the scene unfold and follow the story until the end reveals itself.

True, there are some exceptions to this. Many stories have started with the end and then proceed to show what led to that dramatic moment. But even so, the events leading up to this ending are still a mystery. We can outline and plot ‘til the end of time but if the story decides to take a turn on us, we are helpless to stop it.

When you read a book, you may find the characters exciting and follow their journeys with anticipation at the bottom of every page. That is good. That is perfect! When we write a book, it is much the same. The big difference is… We are watching it unfold in our minds as we go. We’re not making it up from nothing, of course. We are making it up from the world we see and the ones we don’t. Like the reader, we have an inkling of what MAY happen, but in the end, even WE find some surprises waiting for us.

So the next time you are reading (or writing) a story, don’t assume you know how it will end. The boy might not get the girl. The hero might not defeat the villain. The story might not be as predictable as you think. After all, each of our lives takes a different turn each and every day and we cannot predict where our morning will take us by nightfall. It is always an unknown until the final word is written down and the ending is set before us all to behold.

Goodbye My Mugwai

Long ago, I was given a gift that I didn’t want. A gift, in fact, that I declared as unwanted as possible. After having spent much of my childhood with a variety of pets, having another cat was just as unthinkable as asking me to win at a dancing contest. (fyi, I don’t dance)

As it turns out, my dear friend was off getting a cute light brown cat of her own from a couple moving away when she saw a dark fuzzy head peek around the corner and she gasped, telling the nice lady with several pets to give away that she just saw “Alex’s cat”.

Despite the warnings of how shy the cat was around others, my dear friend brought me the shy kitty whom I refused to allow near me, declaring that our friendship was over. Despite my protests, I was still left with the cat and went out of my way to ignore it or push it aside whenever it got too close to me. After a couple of days, I noticed the cat was no longer coming around and I grumbled as I began looking for it. I knew it couldn’t get far since I lived on a second floor condo and all the doors and windows were closed.

When a knock came at the door, I was surprised to find my downstairs neighbor asking if I owned a cat. It turns out my cat found a small hole by the bathroom sink and crawled in. I suppose the hole didn’t have a landing which is why my wayward cat fell down the wall to the first floor – where she lay trapped between the walls of my downstairs neighbor. Upon my admission, they asked if I would be willing to pay for half the repair cost to tear a hole in their wall to get the cat out. I agreed, thinking how much trouble this cat had become.

Unfortunately, the opening led to a gap no one could reach and all attempts at coaxing out the kitty failed… until I reached into the hole and called out for the cat to come out. My friend had told me she looked like Gizmo from the gremlin movie and I remembered what it was called, deciding at once to call the cat Mugwai.

Mugwai came to me as I called and was rescued that day, after which I felt so guilty for having driven her off that I kept her in my arms or allowed her on my desk, hands, keyboard… more often than not. Mugwai was from that day on, my cat. The year was 1999 and I had just moved down to sunny Calilfornia, wondering what all the hubbub was with the good weather and beaches.

I discovered that having a cat was much like having a friend who not only showed affection, (A purr is unmistakable) but also could have fun at any time and for no reason whatsoever. I’m sure she saw something I didn’t when sitting quietly at my side one second, then bolting down the hall the next to wrestle with some unseen playmate.

I learned much from my cat and understood after a few short years that she may not have been a pet I wanted, but turned out to be the one I needed. I took pictures of her as if she were a professional model and when I fell asleep she would climb up on my chest and call it a night. Her purring would make the night pass in peace and the long days after work became much better.

Work was always long and friends, few and far between.

I moved many times over the years, finding new jobs, new places to live and dealt with new struggles as they came.

This last year, I moved somewhere I could not bring my beloved little Mugwai to and I left her with my dear friend. With this new year, I found a new place to live and looked forward to having my fuzzy friend back. Alas, the fates had other plans. Mugwai was lost to me after sixteen years of companionship this last week.

She was a dear old friend and I got to hold her one last time before the end. She will be missed and my heart aches for that soft purr that helped me get through the difficult days and long nights. I wish I could have had her for much longer and I wish I could have found a way to save her from the end that comes for us all. Most of all, I wish she could know how much she meant to me. Especially how clear it was after all these years, that it was she, who rescued me, that long ago day… through a hole in the wall.

Goodbye, my little Mugwai. You will be missed.

Mugwai Zarate 1999-2015