Javier A. Robayo's Blog, page 6

Conviction

    My friend,
   While reading a page is crossing a portal into a new universe, writing is creating it.   It's a lonely endeavor but if it's inside of you, if the first thing that comes to your mind when you wake is to write then you're the instrument of untold characters who want to be brought to life.   Writing is a skill that demands constant improvement. You may not write your words in blood, but you will inevitably add pieces of your very soul...

Pure Writer

“Writing isn't about making money, getting famous, getting dates, getting laid, or making friends. In the end, it's about enriching the lives of those who will read your work, and enriching your own life, as well. It's about getting up, getting well, and getting over. Getting happy, okay? Getting happy.” 
― Stephen King,  On Writing

   It's been a year since I finished writing my first novel. I'm about to release a third, and I've never been more nervous.
  I'm excit...

The Next Big Thing Blog

I was asked to participate in this blog hop and I'm happy to do it. It sounded like fun, and of course, what author wouldn't want to take the chance to talk about their work? 


What is the working/official title of your book?

My Two Flags. It will be out this month.

Where did the idea come from for the book?

The idea came from some of the experiences I lived throughout my high school years. Since I was learning English as a second language, I started keeping a journal that I'd translate in th...

Anniversary

  
  It seems life is all about numbers. I could enumerate the words I wrote. I could bore you with my battles with page count. I could lament the many nights I didn't sleep in favor of writing another chapter. I could proudly tell you how many readers keep making my dream come true. I could, but I won't. Today, it's all about the number one.
  Exactly one year ago, I self-published The Gaze. I will not lie to you, I'd hoped to hit the ground running but instead, I fell flat...

Poetry and The Letter Inside THE GAZE

Recently, I came across Stories of my Soul, poetry by L.J. Lenehan. I highly suggest you visit her Facebook and author pages if your heart and soul need an infusion of poetry. Poets are amazing at coloring each word they link together with palpable emotion, and Ms. Lenehan titled her page appropriately.  Poetry comes from the deepest confines of the soul; where joy lives, where past wounds still bleed, where dreams take flight. I always thought a poem had to rhyme, and in most...

If...

If you stare at a blank screen, desperate for a story to emerge from your brain through your fingertips then you're just like me.
If your characters fight with you over what you hope they'd do on the page, and they win the fight, leaving you no choice but to write as they say, then I can relate. 
If you keep the dream alive despite the big fat zero under the sales column of your account then you and I have something in common.
If you juggle a family, a job, and somehow manage not to lose yo...

Really, Editors Are People Too!

   One of the most painful lessons to learn throughout the publishing of The Gaze: there's no such thing as self-editing.  However, stubborn as always, I gave it an honest effort and had the audacity to feel satisfied with the end result.
  Until...  I came across a reader who proclaimed Gaze had "countless errors."    After spending an entire night looking at page after page, I ran into a couple of words that weren't spaced, one that was misspelled (form ...

Ming-Ming

  I logged a few more hours writing, blogging, reading, worrying, and even longing to reach my goals.  When I finally shut down the laptop for the night, the faint lullaby coming from the girls' bedroom  prompted me to check on them one last time for the day.  Suddenly Jewel's entrancing voice faded in favor of Amber's quiet sobbing.
  I'm all too familiar with her stalling tactics, so my first instinct was to give her a "go to sleep or else", but the tears on her litt...

24 Years

   Shelton High School looks much the same as it did the first time I saw it in August of 1988.  At least superficially.  But nothing escapes change.  Everything evolves, and my old school is no exception.     I walked on the track, recalling the many times I ran after school at the direction of my coaches.  The cold air echoed the memory of the crowd's roar during football games.  I'm a little part of the field's past, a fact that puts a smil...

Believe

   This is one of those self-addressed posts that we all need once in a while.  I'm hoping to balance being my own worst critic with a small vote of confidence.  And so...

   Talk to any artist about their grand masterpieces and they'll point out all the flaws.  Ask any poet or author whether they've finalized their work, and they'll nod even as they recall that one or two phrases that could be more polished.  An artisan in any field is a perfectionist a...