Category Archives: General Posts

Sports, relationships, parenting, literature, education, and more. If it catches my interest that day, I’ll write about it.

Inspirational

Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained

6 Comments

DSC_0968mc

One of the lessons I try to teach is the importance of taking risks. Not everyone has the courage to step off the ledge into the great unknown, but if not for the people who do, we would never progress forward as a species or a society. Part of taking the risk is exposing yourself to failure, and as a man who has endured my fair share of failures, I can avow that the sting of falling short is palpable. In this society, we tend only to celebrate and acknowledge success, and we have developed this sensibility that prosperity is solely the result of hard work. When someone fails, society at large tends to blame the person for not working hard enough or not having the mettle to succeed.

But failure is a natural facet of risk. Plenty of people have started businesses or written books or performed music, working just as hard if not harder than those with success, and still failed. Maybe the timing wasn’t right, maybe they mistook the market, maybe they just never got their break. But two things I have learned in my life: hard work does not guarantee success, and failure is not the worst thing that can happen to a person. Personally, I would rather endure a thousand failures than live with the knowledge that I didn’t have the courage to try. We as a society need to shift our thinking back to valuing efforts and attempts as much as we value success.

I’ve made the decision to leave education. It’s a risk, I’m aware. Instead of a guaranteed monthly salary, I will be forging ahead into the unknown of freelance pay. Instead of a benefits package, I will have to provide my own insurance and retirement. I understand those risks. The other night on Facebook, someone with good intentions questioned my decision. How will I provide for my sons?  How will I survive? She worried that I would regret the decision. On one level, I understand those sentiments. At my age and having been through as much as I have, I grasp the value of safety and security. I get that some people need the stability of a salary and cannot fathom the concept of living without a guaranteed income for the future. I get that.  I honestly do.

But despite the stability education affords (although that is dwindling daily under the business model), I find myself suffocating from the bureaucracy. Each and every day, the escalating problems within the system kill a piece of my soul. When I weigh the safety of a stable income against the toll it takes on my person, I no longer find it worth the sacrifices. I would rather risk absolute failure than continue down this path. There is so much more to life than a monthly income and job security, and with whatever time I have left on this planet, I intend to use my greatest gifts to the fullest extent I can.

For those who maybe worry about me, please know, I would not make this leap if I did not believe I could survive. There are mechanisms at work behind the scenes that I’m not yet at liberty to discuss, but please believe that this spring and summer are shaping up to be quite an exciting time. For the first time in a long time, I have real hope that my writing is about to become financially lucrative. While nothing is set in stone and there is still tremendous risk involved, I believe that the time is now. If I stay put out of fear of failure or insecurity about income, I will miss my window and wither away into a broken husk of a man.

So with that in mind, I’m stepping off the ledge, trusting that everything I’ve spent the last ten plus years building is about to come to fruition. I accept the risks, understand the gamble, and know that I may not succeed. But then again, I just might. Because the other side of taking a risk is that it offers an opportunity for a reward. It’s not that I write for money or fame or any of that nonsense. I don’t. I write because I must, because it’s the only thing that makes me feel whole when my children are absent, because people seem to like my characters and stories. I’ve spent the last fifteen years of my life giving back in the form of teaching. Now, I’m moving forward solely on my creativity and writing, and I accept the risks involved.

General Posts

Guest Post – H.C. Playa

1 Comment

1048482_10201451590514610_1164610116_oToday, I am honored to share a guest post by my friend and fellow author H.C. Playa.  Her debut novel, Fated Bonds, was released by Inkstained Succubus Press in January.  For this post, she shares her thoughts on POV:

First vs. Third

One of the most important parts of writing a story begins with point of view (POV). I’ve heard that some feel that first person POV is “amateurish”. I disagree. Granted, I’ve read some horrid books that did not pull off the POV well, but I’ve also read some great books from the first person perspective. Personally, I think it is far more difficult to write in the first person than in third. In first person POV the focus is very tight, very narrow, which newer writers often have a difficult time sticking to.

In first person, the reader immediately is thrust into the primary character’s life. A lot of YA literature is written in first person for exactly this purpose. It engages the young reader’s emotions as quickly as possible. Karen Marie Moning’s Dark Fae, definitely not a YA series, is written in first person. Steven Brust’s Vlad Taltos series is another non-YA series that comes to mind. Moning used the POV to emphasize the character’s growth. Brust used the POV to effectively relay humor and attitude. It can also allow for a greater degree of suspense and mystery, because the reader is limited to the knowledge that the main character discovers. This can be done in third person as well, and many, many novels written in third person limited accomplish the same thing. When it is he or she versus “I”, there’s that sliver of divide between the reader. First person invites an intimacy that almost feels as if we the readers are slipping into the character’s skin.

Third person, either limited or omniscient, allows for alternate character viewpoints. It can be used to let the reader in on information that the main characters do not know. The key to writing third person well, is to use active voice and only switch points of view if it serves a purpose. A story told from ten different character points of view will end up disjointed and confusing.

While I have a published short story, What Autumn Leaves, written in first person, my novel “Fated Bonds” is written in third person. I’m sure some authors sit down and analyze which point of view will better serve their purpose. I confess that I’m not one of those authors. While a story might begin its life as a nebulous idea, it takes its first breath the moment I visualize the main character. In a way he or she speaks to me. That voice is what comes out on the page. Sometimes that story plays out visually, with me “watching” as the third person and other times the character whispers his/her story. To date, only a few of my short stories have played out as first person stories, likely because the story is focused on one person. No matter who else appears in the story, it is entirely about that character. My novels tend to have several major players, and it only feels fair to give them all a bit of the stage, so to speak.

I encourage any new writer to try writing in a different point of view now and again. Stretching beyond your comfort zone helps you grow as a writer.

As a treat, here’s an excerpt from Fated Bonds, my newly released novel:

She balanced the plate on the glass for a moment to open the door and then grabbed the plate before it took a nosedive to the floor. She opened the door with a bump from her hip and stood in the doorway, glaring at her guest. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Bathroom,” he growled through gritted teeth.

Tala sighed and marched across the room. “I distinctly recall telling you to call me if you needed help.”

Mr. Werewolf stood beside the bed bent over with one hand holding his side and the other gripping the edge of the rickety old nightstand. The empty water glass lay on the floor. Tala shook her head and set his brunch on the nightstand. He shuffled a foot forward and grunted, his breath coming in fast and shallow pants.

“I do believe you could use a hand.” She extended a hand, but he ignored it, shuffling the other foot forward. The nightstand rocked under his weight. She moved in front of him, blocking his path and folded her arms across her chest, waiting for him to realize he did, in fact, need help. He growled low in his throat, but she stood her ground. “Fast healer or not, if you move too much, you’ll reopen that gash. That nasty purple splotch on your side isn’t paint. You probably bruised a few ribs, too. It won’t break your ego to accept a little help.”

Mr. Werewolf craned his neck from his stooped position to meet her gaze. “Ego?”

Tala cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah. Why else would an intelligent man, who’s obviously injured, ignore an offer of assistance?”

“Trust,” he said, through gritted teeth. “Ego has nothing to do with it.”

You can find Fated Bonds on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, or order from InkStained Succubus. Also, feel free to check out my blog (hcplaya.wordpress.com), find my on Facebook (HC Playa), or follow my on Twitter (@HCPlaya). If you’ve read the book and liked it, consider leaving a review on Amazon.

Diatribes

I Will Refrain from Too Much Profanity

4 Comments

Baseball 015
I’ve held this in long enough, but today, I have to get it off my chest, and I’m voicing it publicly because I want the whole world to hear my side of the story.

You and your obese slob of a husband like to pretend that you hold the moral ground because you live in your little cul-de-sac, and you love to project that I am some kind of low-life deadbeat because of my financial struggles.  Well, let’s examine a few facts:

First, how about the years, yes years, the two of you sneaked around behind my back with your phone calls, emails, text messages, cards, and gifts.  You left behind quite the pile of evidence after you left.  Doesn’t your bible have something to say about coveting another man’s wife?  Or did my simple mind miss some clause exempting you two?  For years, you lied to me about your involvement with him, swearing he was just a friend, and me, in my sincerest naivety not wanting to be the kind of insecure man who refused his wife male friends, believed your lies.  Doesn’t your bible say something about uttering untruths?  Or again, did my simple mind miss something?  Perhaps, just perhaps, you two aren’t as moral as you like to pretend.  Knowing what I know now, if I were your husband today, I would keep a close eye on your online interactions and be quite wary of who you call a friend.

And how about the pretty little lies you told me at the beginning of our divorce?  Do you remember assuring me you would never ask for child support?  Do remember your smugness in saying that he had plenty of money and didn’t need any of mine?  Oh yes, you said that.  And from that lie, I agreed to certain provisions in the decree in exchange for your guarantee that I wouldn’t have to pay child support.  Of course, the moment the divorce was finalized, any chance of annulment or revision gone, you and fat boy went back on that guarantee.  And while I was at my lowest, most desperate moments, you slapped me with contempt of court papers.  At a time when I was living off peanut butter and little else, you and your slothful troll in your country club home hounded me for money.

You two love to paint me as some kind of scumbag because I struggle financially every month.  I would love to introduce you to a few mothers who deal with true deadbeat fathers to their children, men who not only don’t pay child support but have nothing to do with them.  You have been paid early every month for five consecutive years and are current for six years, and you cannot even begin to conceive the sacrifices I have to make in my daily life to ensure that money is paid.  You and the hefty gnome could not survive on what I have left over after paying for the children’s insurance and support, but I make do the best I can, so go fuck your self-righteous judgmental bullshit.  I have six years worth of phone records proving my involvement with my children, and they look forward to their time with me.  They know me, and I’m a permanent part of their lives.  If you attempt to restrict that time any more than it already is, we will pursue a new parenting plan that is far more equitable.

You love to throw out the time the boys got into poison ivy and the one time Collin picked up pink eye and whatever virus or bacteria that was, as if I intentionally made him sick.  How about all the times they’ve gotten sick with you?  Fat ass bringing home viruses from airplane flights, Collin missing 30+ days of school for strep, them coming up here this last trip so sick they could barely function.  I’ve never thrown that in your face because I understand that people get sick, especially kids and even more especially kids who aren’t exposed enough to the world at large.  The vast majority of the time the boys are with me they return to Florida safe, happy, and healthy, so how fucking dare you pretend like I don’t take excellent care of my children.

Now, you and that fat sack of cowardly shit hide behind a web of laws that cripple me at every turn.  Your lies and deceits pushed me into an imbalanced, unjust system that punishes fathers.  I’m sure in your diseased minds you believe your own self-righteous bullshit, but you cannot honestly say with a straight face that there is any justice or equality in what the two of you have done to me, leaving me to scratch out an existence on less than $400 a week.  But hear me and hear me well, your pathetic little apology was far too little far too late.  I had tried to let go of the hatred for you and that slothful, self-righteous sack of useless blubber, but this time was the final straw.  You provoked me.  Your greed and selfishness brought all my hatred and disdain for both of you back to the surface.  Now, you had best prepare for the gathering storm.