Selecting a Genre

Photo by Maria Diaz

Photo by Maria Diaz

 

This is probably one of the battles of the heart for many writers. Mostly, because when we write, many ideas come to mind, and many of these cross the limits of the actual work in progress. My belief is that I do not want to chain myself to writing in a specific genre, but I recognize the need to focus on the one that speaks to me the most, at least in the beginning of my writing career. Doing this has its benefits. It will help you concentrate, grow, and polish your skills, as well as develop a name brand.

There is always one genre that attracts our interest in the early days of writing. Later on, we want to spread our wings and soar to other lands. If you are publishing in the traditional way or have a contract, this will present a challenge for obvious reasons. If you have built your brand long enough that a particular genre speaks of it, it also presents a challenge, as readers will tend to associate your brand with the genre, and this is the reason many authors use pen names when writing in other genres. For the independent author, the lines are less defined, as the pen is free to write without the need to follow protocol, except the one owed to readers. If readers expectations demand from you the work that they so much have loved, then a brand has been established, but it does not mean that an author will abandon the desire to explore other genres, and create, possibly at a different pace, works that will please other readers, and maybe, win the interest of faithful readers.

In the long run, write what you love, do it from the heart, and share it in a way that it is presented to readers in the best light, and worthy of their time and respect.

 

Intellectual Filth

A poem.

 

 

Intellectual Filth

 

Hate, war, pestilence, blood, deceit …

The legacy of human beings.

Oh God, why create such intellectual filth?

Nature does not need this sickness within.

 

The more I think, the more I see,

Faith slowly morphs into pain, hopeless disbelief.

Thin needles slowly prick a cold blue heart,

Bleeding its love, ice melts divine.

 

Oh God, why save such impure hearts?

Isn’t Earth better without virus-man?

Why not clean Earth, wipe us all out?

Have you ever thought of taking us out?

 

With a heavy heart a true voice I heard,

Buried deep in ice, breaking through mind’s cares.

“Many times I thought of doing just that,

Then I saw the one carrying a just heart.”

 

“Oh Child, there I saw

My early gifts bestowed,

Love, peace, compassion, trust, hope…

The pain and desire for a better world.”

 

“Love thriving in one changed a multitudes fate,

Then the one I sent with divine intent.”

“Pure love made flesh, the ultimate gift,

Myself wrapped in him to wipe all the sin.”

 

Oh God, nothing changed, I still see the same.

Destruction, pain, and so much hate.

I close my eyes to not awake,

Hoping not to see another such day.

 

Oh child of mine, your cares I see.

I see the pain, the heart within.”

“If only you would let Him in,

The love you need will pour right in.”

 

Oh God, you know the world is not me,

The love of one enough won’t be.

Maybe it is best to let me be,

I close my eyes; I rest in peace.

 

“Oh child of mine, did not I say,

That for the one my love remained?”

“The virus-man Love inoculates,

Today I listened, and you I heard.”

 

Respecting Your Craft

Each one of us has a journey, and as we walk the path, we give of ourselves, inspire others, take what is given to us, celebrate, and we share our talents. We work hard at a craft that we identify as our talent, our calling – that thing that makes the heart flutter with delight and anxiety at the same time, and gives us joy. Whether for you it is writing, or something else, how you treat your craft will determine how far in your journey you will go with that particular talent. It starts by respecting your craft.

Respecting your craft is personal; you decide how hard you work at it, and the priority you assign as well. You decide to block time in your busy schedule, and to respect that time as an appointment with your talent (or Muse). You decide how far you let others interfere, how much to share, and your level or degree of dedication. You deprecate your craft when critics belittle, or you stand up straight, dust off the venom spores, and keep the focus. You crumble in defeat, or you realize that it is just another step in the long journey, and after all, every soul is on a journey, and as you learn to respect your craft, so will you learn to respect another’s journey – understanding and vision come from doing, and living. Respect your craft. “Do unto others as you would have others do unto you.”- Matthew 7:12

My Cloud

A poem.

 

Photo by M.A.D.

Photo by M.A.D.

 

 

My Cloud

 

I saw my life in a cloud,

painful memories within.

Hurt and pain, erased filaments of the soul,

Locked up tightly without hope.

 

I saw my life in a cloud,

passing by so fast, remote.

I saw myself as a child,

The adult I have become.

 

I saw my name in a cloud,

called aloud by beauty, white.

Aloofness turning to trust,

Forgiveness gave in to Love.

 

I saw myself in a cloud,

years of pain turned upside down,

by a dream pristine so clear,

that I could believe was real.

 

I saw my life in a cloud,

Beginning, between, no end.

As white blanket dissipates,

Angel mine, at the end awaits.

 

 

Bovine Rant

Poetic rant.

 

Photo by M.A.D.

Photo by M.A.D.

 

Bovine Rant

 

It was at times when I did not follow the herd that I was ignored.

At times when I walked to the beat of my tune that no one heard my voice.

When I painted my picture that eyes were shut.

When I opened my door that other shut theirs.

It was at times when I disagreed, that silence befell.

The rest of the time, the pasture was green.

It was the hardest lesson I understood,

Stepping into my journey did not make me bad,

And refusing to judge got me out of the barn.

 

Maria Antonia Diaz

Just a Quick Note to Readers of this Blog

Just wanted to let you know that for some reason I am not able to view the notifications section of this blog; it appears empty, and I cannot get to it. I apologize in advance for not being able to answer any comments or visit the recent blogs that have visit mine in the past couple of days, as I usually like to do. This happened once before and it fixed itself fast, so I am hoping it does. Never thought of it before, but the feeling is as having a blind blog. It feels lonely without being able to view the notifications, as I enjoy this part of the blog.

Love, and have an awesome day.

The Day I Cried

A little piece of inspiration.

 

The Day I Cried

 

It was eight in the morning. It was Wednesday, or was it Tuesday? I grabbed a cup of coffee that was already half-empty, half-warm, and stared at it. I looked at the calendar and could not decide what day it was, was it Tuesday or Wednesday. I took a sip, and put the cup aside; who likes cold coffee? The day seemed to drag as usual, soon working hours, nothing out of the ordinary. Ordinary, orderly, order, who wants order every day? I looked outside and saw a leaf flying in the wind, or was it a piece of paper? One of those thin-weathered, annoying pieces of trash that seem to appear from another dimension when you least expect it. Was I expecting something? Who likes the unexpected? I turned around to grab a second cup of coffee. This time, I intended to drink it hot. I poured the sugarless black coffee on a new cup. I set it aside; something caught my eye. A black ant struggled by the windowsill; it had three legs, three legs. I watched it as it moved, as if performing a dance of pain where the only audience was a lonely observer. I thought of my coffee. As I went to grab the already warm cup, I collapse on my knees. The cup went flying in the air hitting the windowsill and almost sending a rain shower of warm coffee to the struggling ant. Shattered. I grabbed my chest; the pain I felt sent waves all over my body, chills down my spine converging in my head. I let myself go into the agony of crying as I felt the weight of the world crawling out of my heart, slowly, as a river of pain that floods the spirit and washes the soul. I lay on the floor, on one side, watching the struggling ant reach its destination – the flowerpot near the window. She was safe now. Images of war, revolts, disease, and technology zombies clouded my brain, revealing a dirty planet. I closed my eyes, as if wanting to shut the dams of the heart, only to find out that the more I squeezed them shut, the river grew bigger, and the sound of agony came out of my mouth, a symphony of despair, a song of hopeless cries that shoot into the heavens as hungry ravens in search of food and back. I opened my eyes; the ant wasn’t there, coffee all over the windowsill, a ray of light filtering through the cloudy glass, kissing my forehead. I sat up. The ravens flew away. The spilled coffee seemed as art in an ordinary day – orderly, order. Was it order what I felt? I wiped away the tears, and one by one, collected the pieces of an empty, shattered cup of coffee. There was art in the windowsill, and life in a flowerpot. There was life, after all.

 

Hope you enjoyed it.

7 Steps to Polish Yourself as an Indie Author

As the title suggests, this post is simple and clear, and mostly describes in a general way the steps I took to follow my intention of becoming and independent author. It is a summary of steps targeted to those thinking about the topic, and wanting to know a few simple but necessary steps to take. This is what I have done and continue to do to grow as part of my journey.

  1. The first thing to do is just Write. It doesn’t matter how much you learn in theory if you do not apply it in practice. You must write and write a lot. It will help you develop a style and a sense of comfort in your own skin – because you will be your worst critic.
  2. Learn from the masters. Read best-selling authors who have been in the craft/business for long, whether they are traditionally published or not. If they have made it so far, they must offer valuable insight. Study their style and enjoy their work. Keep it simple.
  3. Read in your genre. If you have a feel for the type of stories that you want to share with readers, then read other authors who have done it. If anything, it will help you become clear on your goals as a writer, as well as discover other areas of interest.
  4. Read books to improve your writing, grammar, spelling … Educate yourself as much as you can. I would rather spend time polishing my writing than attending critique groups or book clubs. Be wise with your learning time; you know your needs.
  5. If you want to publish independently you must learn about it as much as your time allows, but keep it simple. Learn the basics and keep learning. This is a movement that is gaining momentum now and developing further due to advances and changes in technology. There has always been independent authors, however, it is a new game now and the doors are open thanks to technological advances. It is also viable and less expensive for the same reason.
  6. Learn about technology. It dictates the future of book publishing and book reading. It is wise to be somehow knowledgeable about trends, even if you have no intention to embrace it right away. At least you will have an idea on where things are headed.
  7. You might not like this last one – learn about marketing and promoting your work. Most writers think about the story and not about this part; it feels alien to their nature. It is necessary, and learning as much as you can about this topic will benefit you even if you decide to go the traditional route or if you hire someone to help you with it. Knowledge gives you a sense of control, and eases your mind.

Overall, keep it simple and don’t agonize over it. Let your writing become better, and follow your own pace. It is an ongoing effort.

Art of Selling

First of all, my best wishes for the New Year. This post will take a retrospective tone, my view on becoming an indie author, and what I have discovered on the journey. Last year was very challenging in the personal and the professional aspects, however, I can say that I passed the test – it was the feeling as I received the New Year. I took some time off to think and regroup, and I put writing aside for a while (hence Sunrise Souls is not finished). I am glad that I did this because it made me focus on my journey, and I realized that I create my writing journey and walk its path, and that I don’t have to follow another’s journey – even when it is full of great ideas and awesome “to-do’s.”  It is the spirit of indie – to create and give life to my art form, whatever it may be.

Like many independent authors, I was feeling the pressure of the indie movement (as a general) presented to us by the “new-born gurus,” and which I thought was becoming as rigid as traditional publishing in some aspects. I noticed that “one-way of doing things” was emerging, as well as criticism from the pros who were leading (not on purpose but by default in most cases) the masses of newborn indies who were trying to walk before they learn to crawl, maybe because they felt the same pressure to keep up with the rapid changes while not realizing that the pros and gurus did their crawling and hard work before walking, and took their time. I also saw the insane craving for sales, writing tons of books fast, and making money while the market “is not too saturated,” and that did not make sense to me because it was not part of my journey. The more I learned about this movement, the more I understood what I wanted my journey to be, as well as my pace and method. I guess that in short, I can say that I am not a follower but appreciate many points of view and understand that there is more than one way of doing things.

As I gave myself the time to do nothing, I found myself watching two major shopping networks during the holidays. I don’t watch too much television, and I did not buy anything, but I kept coming back to these hosts who understood the art of selling and promoting. I was mesmerized by the choice of words in description, and by the feelings that these words created in an almost non-perceived way. At one point, I heard the callers repeating the same words of the host, as if they had made the discovery. These hosts were doing the impossible – they were practicing the art of selling from afar, of selling something via the air waves, something not yet tangible to the audience, but these callers wanted it badly. The key to their selling was not to sell, but to create a strong desire, a “want it now – have to have it” feeling. They are successful at it. Although I have a strong background in sales (real estate and jewelry/diamontology), and always knew that the key to selling is not to sell at all, it was the level of descriptive selling and choice of words that caught my attention and admiration of their craft. Some of these hosts do a three-hour show on a line, and many seem to have a huge following of customers for many years. Many recognize a caller from time to time. All this lead me to think about my writing, not so much about selling or promoting, but about the necessary time to create, to build a story with the right words, and to let these words do most of the selling, awaking feelings in the reader. I am not saying that an author should not sell or promote a product, it is a necessary practice. What I am saying is that I should put more attention on the product (the writing and crafting of the story) that on the number of books, sales numbers, or revenue. I want to make a living from my writing, yes, but I don’t want that to be my sole focus/effort.  Going back to the shopping network hosts, the ones who seemed to sell more, were the hosts who focused the effort on creating a love affair with the product.

One thing that became clear during this time is that I will pursue my writing on my own terms, while keeping an open mind about new developing, and while enjoying the journey. A journey that I want to create at my own pace and space while being true to my work ethic and working style. It is the indie spirit after all.

In Retrospect

As the end of the year approaches it is natural to look back and contemplate all the things that we could have done better, and those that were accomplished, but usually, as human nature dictates, we focus on the first. As writers, many times we are hard on ourselves for not producing more, faster, even when we have dedicated an entire year to the craft. It is as if madness had taken over our souls, that is, the madness of the pen, and for a while the only thing that may count, absorbing all our energy and persona. Is it madness of the soul or of the mind? Maybe a bit of both, maybe none. Maybe of the heart. And we dare to follow our heart where it will take us because we are writers, and mad at it.

Well, for me this year has been a bit of a surprise in many areas but one thing that is a constant is my love for the story. I am still working on trying to meet the deadline for Sunrise Souls, however insane that may seem.

One thing I learned over the past year is that inspiration listens to mood, and mood to no one, however I control my mood – allow the mood in understanding – to regain inspiration. Many times, we take inspiration for granted, and it lets us know that it lives in us but we must give it life. It doesn’t flutter around like the Muse we call it, or resides outside ourselves, in another realm – no, it is a part of us, one that is to be summoned by will and faith, and even by desire, one that must be respected and encouraged, and dignify. When we respect ourselves, our work, our surroundings, we are summoning inspiration, our Muse of all sorts, and with it Creativity and audacity. Writing is not for the faint of heart or spirit; in it many souls have gone mad or desolate, but also in it others have grown wings to other realities, paths to other worlds, the solace of the word, inkblood to the soul, inkspear to the heart, and freedom to the mind, but overall essence of the soul.

I will continue to try to meet my goal this year, and await the next with joyful anticipation of good things to come, although these have always been in the now. I wish you all a happy and healthy Holiday Season, and beyond, and a very Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it. May you inspire this new year.

Love,

Inkspeare