Writing, Me, and Higher Consciousness

Hello all. I hope that you all have had a darn tootin week. It’s been a while, but I was experiencing some…spiritual issues…per se. This gal right here is a metaphysical lite.

What in the world does that mean?

It means that I’m into the metaphysical realm of the world, but I can’t seem to break away from this present state of awareness to reach higher potentials.


It is my belief that we all have this potential to be greater than we are right now; to see the good in things and make the right decisions in support of humanity, the environment, the future, etc. so that the world can harmonize AND to do this without negativity. My current dang job doesn’t really help in reaching my higher consciousness, but it’s okay because the hourglass is trickling the tiny grains of sand down to my final day.

Basically, this past week I was trying to tap into that higher part of my mind, as well as trying to decide whether or not to go back to school in the little free time that I do have. It made me pretty depressed to 1) not even get a little close to my higher state of consciousness and 2) even think about going back to school. People think I’m crazy when I say that I don’t want to go to school…for free…but I say why spend however many years learning something that I’m probably not going to do/use anyway? Creative writing degrees aren’t that prominent in the undergrad offerings and English degrees scare me. Don’t ask why. I always get tense when I think of English degrees. I witnessed a lot of people graduate college not knowing what to do with their lives and ended up stuck in a job that they hated.

My Point Part I
Playing along the same lines of my beliefs: all of us have a thing that we’re supposed to do. It might not be limited to just one thing, but it’s a sort of…idea…that can be applied through all sorts of careers. For example, someone who is supposed to heal others might become a doctor, or they might become an acupuncturist, or they might become a minister, maybe even a musician.

I feel that my calling is to send a message. I could send that message through any medium. I feel strongly pulled towards writing. The first time I began to write out this “message” was when I was 12. Unfortunately, I was also going through a lot at home and my diet sucked and I didn’t have much emotional or mental support so I went through a moderate bout of depression. That depression sucked all of my creativity right out and left nothing but a shell. Well, television and dreams of unrealistic goals filled that shell for the better part of 11-12 years. Now I finally understand what I’m supposed to do.

My Point Part II
The minor depression this week came as I stopped writing. It felt somewhat familiar, though I didn’t have to deal with the constant feeling of impending doom piece. I was so caught up in trying to figure me out that I’d shut out my muse. She reprimanded me by making me feel like crap. Every waking second was spent researching, trying to understand, when the understanding was with me the whole time.

As for the school situation, I’m going to try to apply. If it gets difficult and people don’t respond to my questions in a reasonable amount of time, I’m going to take it as a sign that it was never meant to be. Crappy method, I know, but it’s not the first time I’ve applied to this school and let’s just say that that first time wasn’t as pleasant as I’d have liked. But I also wasn’t in the position to try and go to school anyway.

Do any of your beliefs make you wonder if the career that you’re in was the right choice? Do you often feel suffocated when you go to work? Are you often without energy, happiness, and/or a desire to do anything else when you get home from work? If so, you’re probably hampering your true calling. Listen to yourself and find out what it is that you’re really supposed to be doing.


My First Author Interview!

Last night I had the honor of getting my very first author interview by the awesome and loverly Briana Vedsted. Seriously, this is probably the most shining point in my career thus far, besides being nominated for the Liebster Award. Today has been filled with finishing up a drywall repair (I still can’t believe I fixed a 9inx9in hole in a wall), painting, and cleaning, topped off with smiling randomly about my progression into the world of writing.

You can check out the interview here: http://whenibecameanauthor.wordpress.com/2013/05/24/author-interview-19/

Anyway, thanks for being an awesome reader of my blog. Talk to you real soon!


Suck It Up: On Putting Your Character Through Hell

Mourning time has ended. No more grieving over the spilled milk that was my first novel. Moving on has never felt so delightful. Novel #2 has been in the works for a little over a month now and it’s coming along nicely. The scenes are being set up and I’m over the whole goal structure thing. Long story. Anyway, I’ve always had a hard time putting my MC through fiery hoops and into pools of piranhas. Maybe it’s something about self-preservation. I’m learning that I am not my MC and vice versa. I’ve got to put her through IT.

If anybody out there has a hard time putting your characters through IT, it’s time to let your characters off of the teddy bear backpack leash. We are so overprotective of them sometimes that our stories seem unrealistic. For example, you have a scene where the pilot of a fighter jet has an in-flight emergency. He gets burned and ejects into a hostile area. Instead of having him break his leg or get a bad cut, stumble into the hands of the enemy, and get a bad concussion, we usually have rescue and medical personnel already waiting (unless that’s the goal of your scene you can ignore.) That would so never happen in real life. It’s not that simple. Even if those rescue people are waiting, the character still has to navigate the wilderness, or wherever they are, to get to them. I wanted to put my MC thought IT so bad that I almost had her get her boob cut off. That’s a little much.

Let your character go through hell. It helps them grow. It also lets the readers sit on the edge of their seats and experience it all with them. Trust me, I am an avid reader of characters who go through IT. Some of my seats are worn on the edges. Emotionally speaking.


How to Let Go of a Broken Novel

Today while nodding off at the peak of nap time, I came to a realization. Right after that realization, I made what was a really hard decision for me, the first of likely many in my writing career. I decided to let go of my first novel. It hurt to let it go, but it hurt even more to try and keep going with it. All of those things that I was in denial about finally came to a head. The story was written on a whim and had no foundation. Even going back and trying to remedy things didn’t help; it was over.

With that being laid out on the picnic table of novel writing, I’ve also decided to let myself grow by myself. What this means is that, though I get pretty excited about my writing and want to tell the world about my stories, I will keep them to myself. Until they’re on the shelves of course. I don’t need anyone telling me that a great writer must also be a great reader; please go try writing a novel before you div out writing advice. No more unsolicited advice from people who have no business giving out advice in the first place. I’m not saying that I’m a novel writing expert and need no advice, because I am not by any stretch of the imagination. At this point I am on the bottom of the totem pole, so to speak, but that doesn’t mean I should just accept anyone’s blah-blah.

Back to letting go. It was so hard to make the final decision, but my sanity was at stake. Every night I’d push out another scene as if I were giving birth to a gremlin. Yeah, it was bad. The funny thing was that I’d be all into it too, like “Yeah! This scene was awesome!” No. No it wasn’t. I might just beat myself up a lot, but isn’t that supposed to make us better writers? I’m starting to think it’s actually a hindrance. What happens if the Concrete Apocalypse turns out to be pretty decent, but my inner mean lady says that it sucks so bad and I trash that one too?

I really need a dose of confidence.

I’m the last person that you’ll ever hear talk about the necessity of rules when it comes to writing. What I have learned is that some people, myself included, need some kind of structure when it comes to writing. Life, not so much. It’s so easy for me to go off on tangents and never get back onto the main road.

The biggest thing to take away from this is acceptance, growth, and the importance of learning lessons within situations. I’d be the first one to tell you that I often forget lessons that I’m supposed to have learned within the first five minutes. These days they’re more important than ever.

All in all, I’d say that today was eye-opening insomuch that I am growing and I am learning. But I’ll also need some wine to carry me along the rest of my journey.

Finding Time to Write…Anything

These past couple of weeks have been pretty hectic. Long hours, illnesses, traveling, needing peace – it takes a toll on one’s creative self. My muse has been impatiently tapping her foot on my mind, telling me that if I don’t sit down somewhere and write…something…that she’ll leave. She told me, “ain’t nobody got time for dat.”

My soul misses the merging of word and medium. I know that I’m not alone in that feeling when the busyness happens. Everyday during the random times that I could find the time I would pull out my “note” pad and write an idea or two for my current novel, the one that I’m redoing and editing. Still, no title, but I’ve been calling it A New Revolution. It will most likely change.

My blog. When it comes to my blog, I feel even more guilt. Guilt towards myself, and guilt towards the handful of people that I may be able to help with my ramblings. The fact that during the off times that I find time to write and I don’t because I’m so freakin tired causes me guilt to no end. When did I start being such a guilt monger? When was the day that my heart and mind merged together and told each other that any time I feel bad, it needs to be amplified ten-fold? Ugh! Come on now!

There’s a feeling deep within me telling me where this newfound love of writing came and took hold, pushing Muay Thai and fighting in the UFC, painting, making music, and being a graphic designer out of the way. That’s for another post.

Sideswipe: the thud of TOB jumping from the bed has interrupted my thoughts. And now he’s smiling at me from his position on the floor. Gotta love it.

So today I’m making it my task to write; to find the time to sit down and make it happen. We get so caught up in our busy lives that those of us with that burning desire to write often stamp out the flame in only a matter of time. It saddens me to know how easily it is to want to just give up. Then I think about why I write. The reasons are enough to count on one, maybe both hands, yet they are strong enough to carry me through a storm. Why do you write? Maybe once we see the reasons why we write right in front of our faces on a sheet of paper, we’ll be able to keep the busyness at bay, possibly even the damned writer’s block.

Hopefully I’ve helped somebody out. That’s why we’re here right? To affect someone’s life in a positive way. That is all I have today. Until next time, which hopefully won’t be another two weeks.

The Liebster Award

My day began on a very berry-smelling note, and not because I made blueberry pancakes. I have been nominated for the Liebster Award! It’s such an awesome achievement for me personally, because I’ve struggled to keep my blogs going for more than a month. This gives me an incentive to continue on. Thank you Madame Mills for the honor. I truly am humbled. Please go check her out at cnmill. She keeps me grounded.


1) Copy a picture of the award thingy somewhere into the post.

2) Link back to the person who nominated you.

3) List 11 random things about yourself

4) Answer the 11 questions asked by your nominator.

5) Nominate 11 other bloggers to pass it along to (it goes unsaid that you should link to their blogs so the people reading yours can check them out…Well, I suppose that it IS said now).

6) Notify those 11 other bloggers about their nomination.

7) Ask 11 questions for your nominees to answer.

My Q & A

1) Reading: Digital, or Paper?
Paper is my preferred choice, but because my little muffin bun is a walking destruction machine, I have to go digital. Digital reading for me is hard. It’s hard for me to focus and so far I’ve never finished a book that I’ve ever purchased on my kindles.

2) What is your favorite place in the world (could be a city, a state, or even something more specific, such as a room), and why?
I’d have to say Paris and its outskirts. There’s nothing like waking up to the smell of fresh baguettes and croissants in the morning and smearing them with real European Nutella. I’ve never written fiction on my multiple summer trips there, but I did write poetry and journal entries. Even the thought of going there and sitting at some corner café makes me feel a little more creative. There’s just something about Paris…

3) Cats or dogs?
I’m allergic to both, but if I wasn’t I’d have to go with cats based on their independence.

4) What is your favorite holiday, and why?
This is a hard one for me. They all give me heartburn. I guess now that I’m a mom Christmas would have to suffice, only because I love seeing my son play with his highly educational gifts.

5) What is your favorite thing to do to pass the time (this does not include your occupation if you love it, unless it’s the only thing that you enjoy doing)?
Writing. It’s all I ever want to do. Playing with TOB is a given, plus I don’t consider it passing time. My mom says that I inspire her because at any given free moment my phone is in my hand and I am typing away at some scene or idea.

6) What is the most frustrating thing to you in the entire world?
Being in my current occupation. That, coupled with the lack of common sense and consideration among the majority of the population. Oh! And planned obsolescence.

7) Who is the person that you most look up to in your life?
Hmmm…tough question. I can’t say that I have just one person. It would have to be bits and pieces of many people in my life. For me it’s probably the fact that every person has his or her own faults and I feel that looking up to just one person will handicap me. Looking up to multiple people and focusing on their good attributes to make me a better person will also help me work on my own faults and not adopt anyone else’s. That’s just my opinion.

8) When writing (in any form), what is the most helpful thing for you to have during (for example, a cup of coffee, or background noise)?
My muse. Without her I can’t write. I can write in complete silence or in an auditorium filled will loud, boisterous men. I can have full stomach or be on the brink of starvation. Bottom line: if my muse ain’t there, ain’t nothing getting wrote.

9) Your dream job?
To be a multilingual renowned author

10) What do you believe is the best thing about you?
My awkward weirdness

11) What is your biggest hope/aspiration in life?
To be someone that my son can be proud of and use as a goal for his life

My Nominations
Because I only have 6 followers and 3 of them have well over 200 followers and 1 of them nominated me (no tag-backs) I’m only nominating two individuals. I’m sure the two that I’ve nominated have over 200, but I’m not sure how much over 200. Not only that, but they have some pretty cool blogs (one makes you think and the other is about travels with pretty pictures).

L.A. Powell
Archangel Travel

11 Questions for My Nominees
1. Who is your most influential, well-known person?

2. Did you have a security blanket (or any other security item, such as a teddy bear) growing up? What was it? What about now?

3. What time period would you rather live in (you can’t live in this one unless you have a really good reason and technology does not qualify.)

4. If you had to choose to be bitten, would you rather it be by a zombie or a vampire?

5. What do you think about genetically modified foods?

6. What superpower would you like to have and why?

7. Are we alone in the universe, or do you believe that there are other life forms (not just teeny microorganisms) out there?

8. If you were stranded on a tropical island, what 3 things would you like to have (considering your closest loved one(s) were there with you)?

9. Who is your favorite villain?

10. If you could visit one place in the world only one week a year for the rest of your life, where would you visit?

11. Would you rather be rich or well-known?

EDIT: I completely messed up the rules and did not add an Eleven Random Things About Moi, so here I goes.

1. I don’t know how to properly end a telephone conversation with strangers. Usually I’ll end up laughing awkwardly and saying something that I hit my forehead for as soon as I hang up. It’s apart of my awkward mysteriousness.

2. My first and middle names are both Arabic. When I was younger I hated them. They were so…foreign. Plus no one could pronounce my first name correctly. I’ve grown to love both of them so much that I’ve gotten them tattooed in Arabic.

3. Since we’re on the topic of tattoos, I might just have a tattoo of a beautifully designed revolver on my thigh. It’s possible that said revolver may or may not have a plume of smoke and cherry blossom tree petals erupting from the barrel twirling up the side of my ribs. I’m just saying.

4. When I was 7 and 8 I lived in Africa. Comoros, to be exact, which is technically not on the mainland, but a group of islands off of the east coast. It was so beautiful. It wasn’t America and that terrified me at first. I remember almost every detail of the island that we were on, Anjouan. The three things that I remember the most are my mom and stepdad dropping me off with one of his relatives on the beach. When I say ‘with one of his relatives’ I mean I basically fended for myself for about 6 weeks. I spent my days exploring the island, partaking in coconuts that were just laying around, getting chased by a bull that was tied up to a tree, and daydreaming in coves covered with jasmine. The second thing I remember are the monsoon floods. It would get so bad that the porches were built higher so that the homes didn’t get water damage. What did that mean for me and just about all of the other kids? Fast moving water river thingy! We would ride the flood out into the river. So much fun. Lastly, I remember the carefree living. Even the grown ups didn’t worry like we do here.

Okay, I lied. There are four things. The fourth being the Wadaha. My goodness, if you think you’ve been to a party, think again. These dance situations are THE definition of bombastic. Imagine this: you’re 8 years old, it’s dusk and almost your bedtime. Bright lights are beaming down on you from portable stadium-style light equipment. You’re standing in the midst of big, beautiful African women moving around and chanting. Next thing you know, there’s a beat. Then that beat starts getting faster and heavier. Faster and faster it goes. Then there are large sticks being thrown up into the air by one woman and caught by the next and stomped into a wooden bowl full of flour. The music is going strong and the women are swaying and dancing, and now you’re swaying and dancing and throwing sticks. You’re feeling the beat!…and then you’re told that you have to go to bed. Now that sucks, don’t it?

5. I can’t stand it when people leave time on the microwave.

6. There is a deep need for me to be apart of La Leche League.

7. I know every word to every song in The Little Mermaid.

8. My personality is a very odd one. Most of my life I felt like an outcast because of it, but I learned to accept who I am.

9. I also sing and paint in addition to writing. Once upon a time, I used to be a dancer (no not ‘that’ kind of dancer).

10. I don’t think I really ever knew how to truly live until I had my son.

11. I only like to use paring knives. They need to be really sharp.


Edits Please?

Today is the day. The day of my reckoning. Today is the day that I can begin vomiting. Today, good people, is the day that I can start editing my first novel’s first draft. I’ve been waiting, rather impatiently, for this day. By now, I feel as if it’s the worst piece of crap that I’ve ever written. Mentally going back, the characters suck, the plot sucks, the whole thing just sucks. Maybe I’m being hard on myself. Guess what? I’m not. I’m not being harsh. I’m being realistic; I’m being artistic.

Today is the beginning of the rest of my career as a writer. Today I’ve completely accepted my role as a writer.

Namaste. With piece.


While lying in this posh hotel bed with my Organic Baby’s foot in my face, I ponder the meaning of…the Internet. Yes. The Internet. I discovered it around 1998-1999. It was hella slow back then. I remember hating the sound of the modems dialing up and connecting to the AOL servers and all that jazz. The HTML back then was horrific; all the big, clunky comic sans and dancing stars that slowed down the process even more. Gah, I’m so glad somebody decided that was lame.

Internet today is endless. ENDLESS I TELL YOU! And to think, governments are talking about censors and privacy nonsense. You can’t censor this beast. I mean, unless you tell people that you’re going to blow them up with an RPA if they go to such and such website and use people who do as examples. Then I could see the censor thing working.

The Internet is pretty awesome and pretty terrible at the same time. So, back to how I use my phone to write my novels. The Internet is right there. It’s such a huge distraction, yet it helps at the same time for things I can’t remember, but also won’t remember to fix later if I resist the temptation to open up Safari.

All in all, the Internet is pretty neat. Without the Internet, I wouldn’t have realized that my stories suck because I don’t have a goal for my main character in every scene. How simple is that? Like, seriously? That’s what I’ve been missing!? And the websites that are so informative and helpful are right at my fingertips. It’s pretty awesome. Thank you Internet God. You have blessed my life, once again.

You’re probably wondering why I’m in a hotel. Well it’s not to promote my first book, I’ll tell you what! Sad face, no, I’m just going on a road trip that TOB will likely hate me for until next year.

Piece be with you. Piece is definitely with me. In the glove compartment. 🙂

On How Technology Ruined My Life

Apples. iMac, iPhone, iPad. iEverything. My original goal was to shield The Organic Baby away from most things technological. Writing, though, makes it pretty hard to do that. TOB is as easily bored as I am, which means that the time I do have to write will have a background ambience filled with the beautiful chords of Yo Gabba Gabba! and Sesame Street. Because of this, TOB will walk up to me with all of his chunkiness, saying, “Nah-nah-NAAAAAHHHHH!” This phrase can mean YGG or Pocoyo or Daniel Tiger. Now all he wants to do is climb things and watch kiddie shows. That is, when he’s not climbing me and we’re not making up songs together. Or eating whole wheat crackers and almond yogurt and apple sauce and cinnamon biscuits…tangent.

Anyway, what exactly is my point? My point is that you will do what you have to. From the time my little sugar booger began crawling, he’s taken over my writing instruments. First the laptop, with the banging and the “shrhejsjsuandveaakdbeueuakakshasasaassjsjsja.” My next move was an attempt at getting a little archaic and breaking out the pencil and paper. I’ll have you know, wet paper is pretty
hard to write on. After that was the beloved iPad. That one I got maybe…5 days total. Now its filled with multiple episodes of random children shows that I deem educational enough for mommy’s little nugget bun. The last, and the item that I wrote my whole first novel on: my iPhone. Yup. Over 36,000 words typed on a touchscreen. Not bragging or anything. That is not something that I ever want to do again, but I’ve already started doing. It’s not ideal, but my passion is writing. You’ll do anything for your passion and you’ll do anything for your kids, within reason.

Hopefully your passion doesn’t involve stalking or cutting people up. If so, then I shun you. Bad stalker.

Piece be with you (.38 special).