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Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Guest Blogger Russell Blake Shares His Writing Journey...

                                               
                                                                      Russell Blake


My Writing Journey


As a long time resident of Mexico, I know it probably strikes my neighbors here as odd that I write thrillers for English-speaking markets, most notably the U.S. and U.K. I can appreciate that it would be a little weird - writers in Mexico, as in the U.S., are largely unheard of. The few fellow writers I've met make a few dollars here or there at it, but nowhere near a real living. Fortunately, I'm the exception, and this blog will seek to shed some light on how that came to pass.

First, let's address Mexico. Why live here, for almost a decade, and not in the U.S. or somewhere equally "first world?" Well, for starters, because the perception that Mexico is not first world in many of its cities is a false one. Perhaps twenty years ago that might have been true, but not so much now. I find that every year, Mexico increasingly resembles its neighbor to the north, with all the creature comforts, consumer goods, health care, and hygiene one would find in many mid-sized American cities. Perhaps some areas will be run down and poor, just as some areas of L.A. or Pittsburg will be less than pleasant, but on the whole the areas I frequent are filled with Gringo tourists who have paid thousands of dollars to spend a few days soaking up the sun on a quiet beach sipping cold beer or margaritas. 

When I sold my business, I decided to spread my wings and live abroad for a while. I was tired of the hyper-competitive marketing and consumption machine that was my view of American life - everyone needs a new car every three years, a new house every five, and the population seems unhappy and frazzled with the pressures of keeping up on this rapidly moving treadmill. I sensed that life didn't have to be like that, so I spent 6 months traveling around Mexico and Central America looking for a place to settle down. I wound up choosing the Pacific coast due to the combination of weather, price, and lifestyle, and I've never looked back. My friends thought I was nuts, and everyone told me I was very brave (shorthand for crazy). Now, they come visit, and they're the ones eying my existence with envy. I want for nothing, work as little or as much as I like, and spend many days at the beach for a few hours, walking my dogs or sipping something cold. I have no interest in or plans on returning to the States. I'm not missing anything that I can tell. If I want to follow the latest exploits of the Kardashians or hear the rationalizations of bankers explaining why the taxpayers have to subsidize them while they steal billions, I can do it from afar. No need to be in-country.

As to how I came about writing, it's been a long process. I've written for a long time. I just never though the work was deserving of anything more than being shredded. I've spent thousands of hours writing both fiction, non-fiction, ad copy, blogs, product brochures, etc. in a past life, but it was crap, and I knew it. Maybe not as bad as it could have been, but not good enough to want to charge people to read it. But a funny thing happens when you write thousands of hours. You get better. Or at least, the hope is that you do. Still, I was resigned to never being anything more than avocational. I didn't have the interest in doing the big publishing company dance, working very long hours for a pittance. Life was fine without my books out in the world.

 Then the Kindle happened. I got one, and I almost instantly recognized that it had changed everything about reading and publishing. I devoured articles about self-pubbed authors doing well absent participation in the traditional machine, and last June I decided to publish my first book: Fatal Exchange. Since then, I've released a total of 13 titles, with another coming out in April, and yet another in May. I've written well over a million words since last May, and 2012 will probably see nearly that many again.
My process is simple. All I do is write, 12 to 15 hours a day, when I'm in the story. The last book and this new one I'm trying something different - only writing 6 hours a day. If I can generate 5000 quality words per day, I can turn out a respectable novel ready for polish in three weeks. Before, I was shooting for 7000 - 8000, but it's exhausting, and now, unnecessary. I think one book every six to eight weeks is plenty. But the quality has to be there, and I won't write until I've got a compelling idea that needs telling. I also invest in an editing team - an editor, a copy editor, and a proof reader. My work should compare favorably to the big company offerings, and I think the biggest mistake indie authors make is to somehow believe they can do it on the cheap, and compete. They can't, which is why so many self-pubbed works are miserable reading experiences. It hurts the authors, as well as the entire indie movement, because like it or not, most of us are relegated to the amateur/illiterate pile due to sloppy offerings from our peers. Not all are guilty of this, but enough so that it is a problem. And that's a shame. It's entirely preventable.
 I'm making a very good living writing. Even by U.S. big city standards, much less by Mexican standards. And I'm excited, because my sales are growing in fits and starts, and the future has never looked brighter. After 10 months, I'm seeing sales in the 10K books a month range, which is unprecedented given that none of my offerings are of the .99 variety. Folks are paying $4 and $5 to read my work, and generally liking it. That bodes well for 2013 and beyond.
 My message to fellow indie authors would be simple. Plan to work extremely hard, perfect your craft and demand more out of yourself than anyone else would, be your own brutal critic, and do this for real if you want any chance of success. I've read that there are only 200 authors in the country who make the kind of money writing where they could be considered to be vocational authors. It's surrealistic, but for whatever reason, it's now 201, although I don't actually live in the country. But the point is, I've achieved this with no help from any corporate interest, in a business that is impossible to break into, and where I'm competing with John Grisham and Stephen King for reader dollars. And while I'm not seeing their kinds of numbers, I'm seeing enough to be fat, dumb and happy down Mexico way. For that, I'm extremely grateful.


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Russell is the international bestselling author of Fatal Exchange, a groundbreaking genre-blending thriller set against the counter-culture backdrop of New York’s gritty underground, The Geronimo Breach, an action/intrigue/thriller set in Panama, the bestselling Zero Sum trilogy of Wall Street thrillers – Kotov Syndrome, Focal Point and Checkmate (which hit #15 on Amazon’s top 100 free books), The Delphi Chronicle trilogy (The Manuscript, The Tortoise & The Hare and Phoenix Rising), the epic assassination thriller King of Swords, and its prequel, Night of the Assassin, and The Voynich Cypher.

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Muchas gracias a Russello!!!  Thank you so much, Russell Blake, for making a spectacular visit to my blog as a GUEST BLOGGER sharing your WRITING JOURNEY!!!  I truly appreciate you!!  What a delightful, informative read, one I'm sure to revisit!  You are not only resourceful but generous and hilarious.  In short, awesome!  I am wishing you continued success in your writing career and plenty of happy, exciting, sunny, blessed, peaceful, writerly days.....
TheGoldenGoddess
Living A Golden Life

Saturday, March 31, 2012

Poetry in April...and The Siren Sings on a Distant Shore


Bienvenidos, El Mes De Abril!  We bow to the ecstatic beauty of April and the showers of poetry that it brings!  Oh how I love Spring!  How fitting it is to challenge myself to pen fresh poems in addition to writing the first draft of my new novel, "Not Without Passion," as I intend to complete my first spoken word CD/poetry collection, "Soft Tsunami," this year.

On a poetry stage, behind a mic, I am THESIREN.



                                                     "Women in the Photo #1"


You don't need to ask how I feel about you
It's written across our photo in a thousand words
As if we have written "Love, me and you"
At the bottom, scribbled elegantly in the way
Your arm encircles my back or how I caress you with my smile
My body askance, scripted into yours
Poised, as if we are about to dance
Though the camera does not feel your hesitancy.

(c)   Claudia Moss   1/21/06
 


*******************************************************************************

 
Tongues

I am fascinated
By tongues
In all their
Multiplicities
Some maliciously
Charm
Strap arms
And alarm
In tongue-lashing judgments that
leave whelps and scars…

Others
Sweet talk
Tickle
And implode
In naked nuances that pillow the night…

Some motivate
Change history
Adding names
To the list
Of oratory
Like          KiNg      and      GaNdHi      and         KeNneDy
AnGeLoU      and       HiTLEr
Whose honeyed
Or switchblade
Tongues
Leave you                  H      U      N      G…

But to see
A tongue at
Work
Can leave you
Simply sprung
Especially if
It holds a
Tongue degree
Skilled in
The artistry
Of controlling breathing
See
Some tongues are
Ringed
To make you
S      I      N      G
Their beat heat
That sends feet
To dance on ceilings…

If you’ve ever
Been tongued
Without saliva
Hollah
If not,
No bother
You will---
Just be still
And someone is
Bound to spill
The sight
Like the tongue
That teased me
At the party
Last night
It was               Unmercifully
Darting
Shafting
Flitting
Stinging
Zipping
Ripping
Velcro-ing
Me to the                 S      I      G      H      T
The vision wicked
Like a cobra
In a basket
Stuck, I couldn’t help
Thinking:
“Do whatever
With it,
But stick it
In my
Suggestion box, please…”

The melody
Of Spanish tongues
Enthuses me
Looses me
In revelry…

Deseo ver el fuego
En sus ojos                porque     
Cuando tu escribas su nombre
A traves de mi corazon
Beseme y
Comame como un dulce
De dedo la medura…

In company
I was told
To
H      O      L      D
My tongue
As little girls
Were meant
To be seen
Like a store-bought
Painting
Not having
Anything to say
That might mean
Something
Thus
Little girls
Became
Voice-less
Beings…

And let us
Not forget
Granma’s favorite adage,
“If you don’t
Have anything
Nice to say,
Don’t,
Say nothin’ at all,
Which
In essence
Translates,
“Say something.
Don’t leave it
At nothing.”
But a tiny tongue’s truth might
Challenge Granma’s sensibilities
As Granma…………..Who knows out of the Mouth of a Child
Could come a hurtful truth……….Might yet be
Soothing  
A wayward child inside
Whose tiny tongue
Once charged a debt Granma’s backside
Paid in a switched      H      I      D      I      n      G…

I commemorate
An organ
Weighing less than
An ounce
For as surely
As numbered hairs
The Power of
Life and Death
Resides there
On the tip
Of your
Tantalizing
Truth-welding
Teasing
Take that

Tongue…

 ©   Claudia Moss   08/29/05
                                                                           


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“This is a Love Poem”

From me to my heart
Written in the sensual ink of self-love and gratitude
A Goddess
Painted me in Her image
To define myself
To embrace my likeness
To Divinity
Blessed I AM I don’t
Bow to
Hetero-skewed notions
Of what I should be
No, that’s why this is a Love Poem to me

If left up to you
I would be
Effaced as you think I AM
My footprints already eschewed from the sand
‘Cause your voice and your media
Proselytize lesbians don’t exist
After forty
Much like all women whose parts deflate
Their guarantee
Proven fake
If under the knife   they don’t go
To maintain
Their womanly refrain
That keeps you sane
In your love poem in the lustiness of
Your midnight porn where
Two curved angels
Wings flapping
Breasts fluttering
Thighs quivering
For you          while you stoke
A furnace you intend
For them
Being you figure who else could be the center
Of their erotic fantasies
Never minus testoste
RUN…
It’s a known fact in your Male festo
Dykin’ is fun                        a’ight even
Long as it’s enacted
Under your supervision,    a result of your decision
To please self

Every verse in this Love Poem whispers to me
In soft-lipped, glossy revelries
Of an endless love
A timeless promise
That I AM
The One
A sea-slick Venus
A bare-breasted Isis
Or
The thick-thighed Nzinga
The honey-voiced Nefertiti
Here to right nothing       ‘cause Nothing Really Matters   like Hill sings
Outside of my desires and whims
So I let the world write itself
As that is the way She has it        being She is Love

Like Walt’s Mulan              my duty is to my heart
Thus, when I harken to its calling
When the curtains rise
And I star in my own eyes
I do me:
Loving who I love
Saying what I say
Writing what I write
Dancing how I dance

I am a Sapphic Siren
Singing on a sugary shore
Serenading the sea
I am a Golden Goddess
Doesn’t matter who tires of women
Claiming the right to be               thus
I’m patiently content
Grateful for my Queen’s certain advent

See, this is a Love Poem
And in it I AM the gift
Of me
To myself and
I need no other reason to be

©   Claudia Moss   2/1/2011


Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Nita Bee's Review of My Novel, "If You Love Me, Come"



Format: Paperback
Author: Claudia Moss
Publisher: Mariposa Publications
Publishing Year: 2011
ISBN-10: 0983269734
ISBN-13: 978-0983269731

Book Description:
(Taken from back cover)
Frenonia Roberts leads an idyllic life, if you ask her baby sister Rhonda Butler, her best friend Sharmayne and anyone else looking in on her glamorous, Buppie existence in Atlanta, GA, where she high-steps it through her days as a young entrepreneur, the owner of The WeAreFamily Bookstore and Coffeeshop. She is the apple of her mother’s eye, a heavy hitter for the city’s National Black Arts Festival, founder of the esteemed Daughters of Isis Book Club and the flame in J.T.’s heart. Then one evening Free closes the bookstore and bows to the whim of a supernatural breeze guiding her Mercedes towards Techwood Homes, a neighborhood off her normal route back to the suburbs. She has no warning that a simple turn in the road will catapult her into a devastating, downward spiral to a place she’s never known…until now.
In turmoil, Free watches as worlds collide and hearts weep. Used to being the epitome of control, she learns to surrender to an unseen power moving for her good, even when she craves little more than an endless night. Meanwhile, the people closest to Free can’t stay her inevitable plunge; they’re too busy handling their own mazes. How is Free to know a stranger with the music of the South in her mouth will be the saving grace she and the others (Rhonda, Sharmayne, Pinky, Pastoria and J.T.) will need to lead them back to love?
A novel about the healing power of love and redemption, about betrayal and longing, about family and its many forms, IF YOU LOVE ME, COME resonates with lyrical language and reservoirs of emotion.

Nita Bee’s Buzzin’ Review:
This was one of those books that absolutely took me to another place. Comforting, beautiful and refreshing is how I can describe it. If you are a lover of words this book will definitely pull you in.  The spirit of the wording brought me to a pleasurable read high, and I don’t say that lightly.  The author used very descriptive language  and as said in the description, lyrical language which helped present a very good visual. You’ll surely feel the poetess in her writing style.  As well, I was clearly able to relate to the characters and see myself in some of the struggles presented. It was refreshing because from all of the books I’ve read thus far, this was a different sort of novel read for me due to the authors writing style. Did I mention, beautiful and refreshing :) .
This story was based around the main character, Frenonia (known as “Free”), who although has a struggle with her own self, is spirit moved to help herself and others in an indirect way. Free would take in the knowledge and wisdom of an older southern woman, who spoke with a true old south southern tone, named Miz Too-Sweet and would get some valuable life lessons through her storytelling.
Throughout the pages there are lessons for us all to be learned from Free and each supporting character. They all had their own self struggles to deal with as the story showed life and love through, relationships, sexuality, family, growing, hurting etc… the author covered a good few. The whole idea I got from this story is no matter who you are or where you come from, learning ones true self and knowing where you truly belong within, can get you to that place where love an happiness meets.
You will absolutely get something out of this story to carry with you.
One of my favorite quotes is “Love life and life will love you back“, My favorite quote in this book is at the very end that says “Fact is, Love call, you come” , which says it all about this story. I suggest you read the book and see what I am talking about…recommended.


Overall Buzzz Rating:



"Many thanks to the lovely Nita Bee and her beautiful buzzin' bees!  My novel can be purchased on Amazon as a Kindle book and as a softback book."   

TheGoldenGoddess

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Justice for Trayvon Martin




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As the mother of a young Black man in America, my heart goes out to Trayvon Martin's family. No Black male is truly safe tonight, from Sanford to D.C., until justice reigns in Seminole County. Vigilantes who take the law into their hands must feel the full wrath of a blind justice system. A midnight noose will not be replaced with a handgun in broad daylight. Let peace be still and justice reign like mighty waters across this nation...

TheGoldenGoddess

***********************


Why Is This Important

On February 26, our son Trayvon Martin was shot and killed as he walked to a family member's home from a convenience store where he had just bought some candy. He was only 17 years-old.

Trayvon's killer, George Zimmerman, admitted to police that he shot Trayvon in the chest. Zimmerman, the community's self appointed "neighborhood watch leader," called the police to report a suspicious person when he saw Travyon, a young black man, walking from the store. But Zimmerman still hasn't been charged for murdering our son.

Trayvon was our hero. At the age 9, Trayvon pulled his father from a burning kitchen, saving his life. He loved sports and horseback riding. At only 17 he had a bright future ahead of him with dreams of attending college and becoming an aviation mechanic. Now that’s all gone.

When Zimmerman reported Trayvon to the police, they told him not to confront him. But he did anyway. All we know about what happened next is that our 17 year-old son, who was completely unarmed, was shot and killed.

It's been nearly two weeks and the Sanford Police have refused to arrest George Zimmerman. In their public statements, they even go so far as to stand up for the killer - saying he's "a college grad" who took a class in criminal justice.

Please join us in calling on Norman Wolfinger, Florida's 18th District State's Attorney, to investigate my son's murder and prosecute George Zimmerman for the shooting and killing of Trayvon Martin.

~~~Tracy Martin and Sybrina Fulton
As seen on www.Change.org


Please sign this petition.

http://www.change.org/petitions/prosecute-the-killer-of-our-son-17-year-old-trayvon-martin

Friday, March 16, 2012

To Know A Poet is To Love ArtistCG


COLETTE aka ARTISTCG


Colette aka ArtistCG--- Poet Interview with The Golden Goddess


When did you know you were a poet?


I remember writing poetry as a teenager. I think it was probably crappy love junk. I remember doing drawings from the back view of a couple standing, holding hands, wearing Levi’s. haha I think the crappy poems accompanied these crappy drawings.

As far as when did I know? I would say perhaps in the past year. Some of my poetry has been published several years ago, but I don’t think I ever saw my poetry as being something truly worthy until recently. Now, I’m like Yeah, write on! I’m a poet and I know it! LOL


Who influences you as a poet?


Writers from before my time (living or not) who influence me and why:

• Charles Bukowski (raw truth)
• Pablo Neruda (metaphorically delicious love)
• Anais Nin (love knowing no boundaries)
• Colette (I think I’m tied to her somehow)
• Marguerite Duras (The Lover.)
• Maya Angelou (endured a harsh past and still appreciates the bird’s song)

Man...looking at that list, I wish I could arrange a face off with those peeps and have them compete for the top spot! There are singer/songwriters that I could add to that list too. I have a sense of nostalgia for the past, and I feel a connection to them when I read how they approached situations during their time. Times change, but certain things are a constant—like struggles, desires, and the emotions that are attached to both.


Writers who currently inspire me are:

• Claudia Moss (lively spirit who gives all her characters great voice!)
• Joyce Conley Williams (knows a woman’s hardships, and certainly knows her worth)
• Kumasi Mack (a modern day romantic, but he calls himself Abstract due to his flavorful metaphorical word choices)



How do you contribute to the love of poetry in the world?

I began posting my poetry online at theStarliteCafe.com in 2002. A man named Albert used to run it, and it was a pleasant place to share, get feedback, and bond with other poets. Since he has passed, various changes have occurred on the site, and there are a lot of glitches. I later started posting on WritersCafe.org. I’ve had some poetry published in India through the Taj Mahal Review, and various other small journals.



Almost Dead Poets Society    We are the Almost Dead Poets Society. If you are interested in poetry...whether you read it, write it, or enjoy listening to and watching spoken word performances then this group is for you.


About a year and a half ago, I formed the group the Almost Dead Poets Society. I had renovated my studio/living space to showcase my art, and I had a vision of this place I call the Avant Garde 2434 becoming a comfortable hangout for artists, musicians and writers to share their passion and inspire each other. I hosted the Sunday Nite Poetry Chill n Thrill for a year here, and took a few month hiatus recently. We will resume on Saint Patty’s Day with an Afternoon Delight potluck, and perhaps get back to our Sunday night routine from there on. I created a Facebook group for the Almost Dead Poets Society not long after our physical group formed, so that I could post the challenges, and we could also read the words we heard spoken. I have been delighted with its reach to those in other locales—including other countries.







Kumasi Mack, photo taken at the Avant Garde 2434
Poetry Chill & Thrill 2011





Joyce Williams, photo taken at the Avant Garde 2434
Poetry Chill & Thrill 2011


Last year, I created an art exhibit I titled Hung Out to Dry. I hung photographs I had taken of some of the poets from our group, and poetry from these poets and some from afar who participate in our online group. It was a one-day event that included several segments of spoken word. I’d love to take something like this on the road. Ahh one day! You know...Wishing Thinking of the Urban Mind! ;)






HUNG OUT TO DRY...Poets from the Almost Dead Poets Society



I have plans to put my poetry in print and eBook form soon. The means to self publish and reach an International audience is amazing thanks to online sites such as Blurb.com, and Apple iBooks. Besides having a few of my own collections I wish to publish, I want to compile a collection of poems from our Almost Dead Poets Society. Quite possibly, I will tackle that before my own, because I’m eager to share these amazing poets with the world!


Describe your writing process?

Free flow.

I’d like to stop there, but then you’ll yearn for deeper explanation—right? I write when my mind is pushing it out of me. Pushing it from my mind to my fingers to any pen, paper, keyboard I can get into contact with. Often I have words—more importantly thoughts—running around in my mind, and sometimes I’ll get them down if I have paper and pen in reach. Sometimes, I don’t. And, sometimes they are lost or changed by the time they do meet the page. It’s more of a burden of thoughts...things that trouble me. Sometimes, it’s things that elate me. I just let it out. And, sometimes, maybe later, I’ll go back and tidy up the thoughts and words a bit and shape it into a more coherent poem. Sometimes.



Describe a time when language mesmerized you.

Honey, when hasn’t it? The womb? I don’t know...I think that my collective unconscious is tied to some former writers and artists, so it’s part of my DNA. I’ve been mesmerized since before my flesh encased my spirit.

ArtistCG's Poetry

Day of the Dead / Night of the Devil
A Poem by Colette
"a Halloween experience"


I fuck everything up / the pie
no brown sugar / for my brown sugar
no crust / wrong shell
hell
More time cleaning up / than clearing up
the energy
that pulled him here / that pushes him away

I want to impress / to decompress
to touch soft / love mellow
yellow / everywhere / to symbolize


Happiness


What is it?
No one ever knows 'til it's too late / so I wait
to no avail / jail / feels like what I'm in
because I did find out / what "it" is
but, I can't obtain it / fully

Slivers of my piece of the pie
not even satisfactory
though I try

I'm a ghost in this land of the unknowing
Even when I blurt it out / paint it / create it
demonstrate it
I'm unheard / unseen / nothing but awkwardness
showing

It would be easier if I could think
walk / talk
dream of a future / like them
but, I can't.

I'm spilled over / peeled off / sliced
chewed up / spit out
discarded like trash / recycled
too many times

I watch lesbians build families / scouts build fires
burn what's meant to stay semi-whole
signs everywhere looking for new hires

I'm strong as titanium / as weak as these old, falling leaves
No one knows what to do with me / And,
I don't know how to sit still / I'm not addicted to a pill
or alcohol / or, otherwise

It's the simple things that give me thrills

Perhaps I'm meant to remain alone in this life?
Feeding squirrels peanuts / walking an incognito cat on a leash
Because, I don't think I'm designed to merge
with these humans

completely.

© 2011 Colette

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Our Scars
A Poem by Colette
"flashbacks, and how they cripple our future. *inspired by the film Black Snake Moan"


that black snake moans

those flashbacks

of the wars i’ve fought

with my father, brother, steroid pumped man in blue

all i’m keepin true


my truth


wanting to give it all to u

inside out, and back in then out

again

no air

choking throat


nothing but a hair left behind, and

those scars


i see the you you don’t see

you see the me of the former remnant of women past

and i am ready to strangle that fucking black snake

til it no longer moans, but screams, then fades

then relaxes

to the present


i say i want to massage your temples

until your misgotten memory turns liquid

so i can swallow

swallow that black snake

so it chokes no here and now no more


that black snake moans

and i cry

cancerous tears

tears of death moans playing in my cerebellum

body twitching both involuntarily and voluntarily

hell, i don’t even know the difference anymore


and somehow both of our necks begotten

like some African mythology springing forth new life

out of the dead crevices

we have to learn who to be thankful for


i’ll suffocate your fucking, moaning, black snake

i’ll help you breathe, but


what will you do for me?


what will you do for me?


© 2011 Colette

**********************

Abstract Artist
A Poem by Colette
"a dedication to Kumasi Mack--The Abstract Poet"


I call it motion / they call it abstract

I call it feelings / they say it looks like a heart attack

I say the colors are like the wind on a hot summer day

I say the gay rainbow flies / I say... Sailor, Hey!


Movie screenings / temporary tattoos

The work of an artist will do / What? / Only if they lived before you?


Pistachios / Mangos

Yellow / Pink / Orange / Purple

You know I dream in Technicolor

You know when you dream of me there is little color / no obstacles

a barrier / reef

and we’re back to a reality in a colored land


Give me your hand

African myths / a gazing globe of peacock feathers / watermelon lingerie

said to cure what ails you / and help you sleep


Deep


They call us lewd / I call them funny

They call her nude / I call her lovely


They call me / I don’t call back

Today might be the last day / I’ll have a Big Mac attack


I’m down with the hoops / not with the studs

A painting that doesn’t encourage growth is simply mud


I call it the Ripple Effect / they call it football

Sometimes

He falls / He says, “We can’t fly” / I say, “Gimme your hand”


You might call it metamorphosis / I say

the caterpillar can’t eat if the butterfly don’t know where to land


We call our language metaphors / a fictional version of facts

He calls me Moonshine / I call him Abstract

***********************

ArtistCG is also an awe-inspiring PHOTOGRAPHER!!!
http://www.blurb.com/my/book/detail/1028261



Images of people in their bedrooms to demonstrate that regardless of race, ethnicity, gender, or cultural backgrounds...we are all similar.


Living A Golden Life,
TheGoldenGoddess

Friday, March 9, 2012

Dr. Victoria Lynn Schmidt Encourages Writers Via BIAM!

A beloved, Las Vegas friend, Nik Nicholson, invited me to join her on a writer's adventure last year! Our noble mission: write a book in a month! At first, I wondered if she was serious but she didn't sound inebriated and there was a determined essence in her voice. I could feel her persistence, her fire to blaze that unprecedented trail.


So I consented. And so did three other writing friends.


Nik walked the road she set for her indomitable pen, over job stress and family life and whatever else she had to overcome to meet her goal. At the culmination of a month, the good sister had that "fast" written manuscript ready for edits. On the other hand, I bailed. With 1,000 excuses strapped to my ankles. But something in me beckoned, the forefinger summoning me back to the drawing board. "We never give up, Heifer!" it scolded me, rolling its eyes.


It may not be now, but you, young lady, will sit to meet this goal. Nothing is insurmountable...if you give it your best. Then I mused: Did I really give it my best? Deep within, I knew I hadn't. A door opened and I dashed.


Now I walk up to the challenge again. Resolved, indomitable and elated---I am telling The Golden Goddess, Ms. Claudia, you can, you must and you will. It's a simple as that!


So, beloveds, in April, (yes, next month) come hell or high water, I undertake the mammoth venture of completing the first draft of my new novel, NOT WITHOUT PASSION. Not only will I have the initial write, but also I will rewrite the manuscript and include subplots and anything else the second write should possess in May. Afterwards, off to a potential publisher it will traipse, high stepping it all the way.


In dedicating myself to the undertaking, I decided to invite the lovely Dr. Victoria Lynn Schmidt to A Golden Life to share her pearls of writing wisdom...with me and any other writing soul out there who could benefit from her encouragement and expertise. I must say, I reached out and Dr. Schmidt received me graciously. She consented to my request with the warmth that only a master teacher can exude to those who come to sip of her knowledge. Thus, without further ado, I give you V.L. Schmidt!





"I'm so happy to be visiting with you all on the Golden Goddess! I know many of you are pursuing writing a book in a month, or at least just spitting out a draft of it which is wonderful. You will be far ahead of most writers out there who never actually get to 'the end' so be sure you pay attention to the 'celebration stage' you deserve it!


Try to think of things in terms of steps. Try not to see the whole manuscript in the beginning, just see the first page, the first chapter. Take that first step. Don't stop to take care of anything else, don't worry about things being perfect. The stars will never align. You just have to take that first step and get things rolling. THE STARS WILL NEVER ALIGN PERFECTLY! Don't wait.


Also, start every writing period congratulating yourself. Take a moment to look back at all the pages you have written and feel good about it. We often go crazy staring at where we need to go that we forget to take pride in what we have already accomplished. Be good to yourself and your muse will show up. It's like we climb to the top of a mountain and worry about the next mountain, instead of taking a moment to see the glorious view in front of us already. Writing is a journey.


A bit of practical advice - be sure you create back ups! I just heard from another writer who lost all her files to a virus. E-mail your ms to yourself at the end of the day at the very least if you have to. Your work is precious, take care of it."






This is the BIAM book that guides me on my voyage! I have been rereading it to reintroduce myself to my support system. This time, together, we will dock in a port of phantasmagorical accomplishments!


Thank you, Dr. Schmidt, for the beauty of your presence in the world!


Victoria says:

"I am an author, instructor, and holistic-minded explorer of psychology, spirituality, and creativity. My books combine my unique interests in ways that allow my readers to think differently about subjects while offering them practical tools to explore things on their own.

My first book series is the best selling Creative Writing Series – 45 Master Characters, Story Structure Architect, and Book in a Month. These books combine all of the above to show readers around the world how to hone their craft and reach their dream of writing a book or screenplay. (45 Master Characters was recently translated into Korean)"

Read more: http://victorialynnschmidt.com/



Living the Golden Life
TheGoldenGoddess