Marcus Lopes's Blog, page 35

5 Rules to Live By

As a kid, I hated rules. That’s because rules weren’t fun. They were meant to mould my behaviour and, perhaps unknowingly, stifle my creativity.

Rule: I had to eat everything on my plate before I left the table (that was hard, especially on the nights my father served burnt, chewy liver for dinner).

Rule: I couldn’t stay out late on a school night.

Rule: As long as I lived in my parents’ house, I’d do as they say.

Rules sucked. Big time.

Breaking the Rules

It probably comes as no surprise tha...

Too Close for Comfort

“I’d like another,” Dean said, pointing at his empty glass. “A double.”

“You sure about that?” the burly man asked.

“Jordan, just pour the goddamn drink,” Dean growled.

Jordan retrieved the bottle of Lagavulin from the shelf behind him and poured a generous amount into the glass. “I didn’t deserve that.”

Dean picked up the tumbler and drained its contents, then fixed his gaze on Jordan’s questioning leaf-green eyes “Another.”

“No way, man. Not on my watch.” Jordan pointed at the exit. “Go hom...

Shelter

“Unbelievable. Fucking … unbelievable!”

The contralto, from-the-stomach grunt thundered on all sides, but Zach Logan didn’t flinch. The deep moodiness of Adele’s voice, streaming through his earphones, had transported him to another world.

“Ten freakin’ percent probability of precipitation!”

Wedged into the corner of the bus shelter and updating his Facebook status, Zach turned up the volume.

“Can you fucking believe this?”

Zach killed the music and lifted his head. He wanted to but did not —...

Never Give Up

Every day I write. In the morning. In the afternoon. Sometimes in the evening.

It’s not a choice for me.

It’s a calling. And when I stopped running away from myself, I heeded the call.

You see, when my pen touches the page, that’s when I feel grounded, centred … at one with myself and the world.

Writing is the truest expression of who I am.

The ‘Why’

I don’t write with the aim of becoming a New York Times bestselling author or hoping to win the Man Booker International Prize. Sure, those thin...

Never Let Go

“I love it here,” Shane said, swinging his legs that dangled over the edge of the wharf.

Damien smiled. “Me, too.”

Six months after his suicide attempt, Shane was getting his life back on track. He and Damien had sold their homes and together bought a house in Muskoka Lakes. A talented abstract painter often compared to Jackson Pollock and Piet Mondrian, he was painting again and preparing for an exhibit in the fall. He’d never expected to fall in love, to find someone who’d love him just as...

Stay with Me

“Goddammit, move!” Damien slammed his fist into the steering wheel. Traffic on the eastbound QEW hadn’t moved in twenty minutes. The worst part was that he could see the exit for Islington Avenue, and that meant he was almost home. He turned on the radio and, searching for news, kept switching channels. No one talked about an accident, just the usual heavy rush hour gridlock. “Fuck!”

He’d been staying with Shane for almost a month, and waking up to those mesmerizing coffee-brown eyes made him...

Doing It My Way

“When we focus on what matters, we can build the lives we want, with the time we’ve got.”

– Lauren Vanderkam

I’ve always had a love-hate relationship with social media. I love that Twitter, more than Facebook, allows me to connect with readers and other writers. I love that I can ask a question and so many people are willing to share their knowledge and experiences. I love that, as an introvert, I feel like I’m a part of a community.

I’m less enthralled with social media when the trolls come...

Let Me Go

Do it, Shane thought, limping into the dark living room and collapsing onto the sofa. And this time … get it right.

In the silence, all he heard was the ticking of the clock hanging above the fireplace. His stomach gurgled and, suddenly, it felt like the room was spinning. He thrust himself forward until his head was between his knees and took in several deep breaths, pushing them out forcefully through his nose. When he calmed down, he could barely hear the whistle of his breath. Just the ti...

The App: Love’s Surprise

Parker’s stomach flipped when he entered Balzac’s. Between the animated voices and the pounding, grinding and gurgling coming from behind the counter, he couldn’t hear himself think. He edged his way around the tables and people standing in line, his heart thumping in his chest as he scrutinized the crowd. No Blue Jays cap. Surprised? Not really. Yet he couldn’t get that familiar metallic taste out of his mouth. Should he have known better? Absolutely. But deep down, he still believed in love...

Take a Deep Breath

Throughout this long writing journey, I’ve had one steady companion: Doubt.

Doubt tells me I’ll never succeed. That I’m wasting my time. That I’m an amateur and that I’ll never be anything more than that. Some days, Doubt almost has me convinced that all of these things are true. That’s when I know Doubt has power over me and I’m the one feeding it.

Since the beginning of the year, I’ve been in a ‘funk’ that I’ve been struggling to shake off. There are peaks and valleys in life, right? Well,...