All of last week i was averaging about two books a day. I gloated got all excited so on and so forth. Thanked shitloads of people. Was flying high on success. Now for more of my hardcore truth, though all of this happiness and positivity was genuine it isn't the truth entirely. Thanks to everyone who helped by sharing my first few posts I finally got some exposure leading to things like this. And I have reviews I didn't solicit coming which is always great. So if you haven't read it this is the article where it all began and this is the blog post that got me going.
Thursday, 13 October 2016
Thursday, 6 October 2016
So as a poet i tend to pretty much write about everything. And I mean everything. Half the stuff I write about has nothing to do with me. Okay way more than half. Just ideas, random musings that pop into my head that get put into physical form. But apparently this isn't true.
When I the poet write a poem it's almost always nothing personal. I have an idea, an emotion that sometimes isn't even my own. It's been expressed to me by friends I come in contact with or random things that show up in my facebook or google feed. I sit back and go into that place, think, and write. When I'm writing, yes it is all about me. When I'm done it's all about did I say it well enough for people to understand it. My edits are always minor. A word here and there, spacing to make the poem look the way I want. Comma placement, little things. I almost never do any serious rewriting. Hell I can't even remember doing anything that serious in the near past. All these things are to make sure that I convey certain emotions well for the reader.
Monday, 3 October 2016
So if you have been following me recently you know I dropped my nice guy act for a new more honest approach to selling books. Basically likes and congratulations don't do shit but sales shares or both are everything. If you want more and that go here. So far it has been yielding results and getting me lesser comments from the positive reinforcement crew hence dropping all negativity off my feeds. Let's start off with why this is negative.
Sunday, 25 September 2016
Okay. I bet you're wondering what's up with the photos. The first is a friends post of my book that I posted on my site. The second is my first review. The rest are four of the six free chapters I posted during my books presale. Amazon doesn't allow the preview function before the official sale date. People are always overflowing with suggestions on how to market yourself so let's start simple. According to just the clicks. This one book has recieved over 1,200 clicks. Paid reach is over 50,000 views. And the views I reach totally on my own reached over 9,000. And the likes, in the thousands for all except one. It is safe to assume I do not have a problem reaching people. So if this is not the problem what is?
Friday, 29 July 2016
So I use styles/headings to do my chapters as they have actual names otherwise I prefer to format font a spacing and all that manually it makes it easier to transfer files when all that hidden formatting isn't there. Way less glitches.
First thing to note the only automatic formatting I use is auto tabs. Ebooks don't like them and to all first-time authors, it's a bitch removing many tabs. Don't hit the tab button. Just don't. 200 pages of deleting tabs is painful.
Friday, 24 June 2016
I woke up this morning and I cried. I was late for the gym, but I went anyway. Why? Because my island, the place I call home taught me in just 24hrs, one day of my existence, that I’ve lost control over yet one more aspect of my life. I have to hold onto any and everything that I can control before there isn’t anything left. So I went to the gym. And my soul and heart are slowly going down with each minute since and I’m just feeling like I might as well give up on life.
So yeah. I cried. I thought it was because I was sad at the results but that’s not it. As I thought through the sadness I realised my life didn’t matter. It wasn’t that the island is hateful, it wasn’t that what I knew all along would happen happened. It’s the simple fact that I don’t matter. And anyone else like me also doesn’t matter. Someone has been given the power to decide whether I can be happy. That someone was not a god of any kind but the citizens of Bermuda. And they clearly voted that anyone part of the LGBT community is not important. Second class citizen, undeserving of the rights given to them because they are heterosexual and not because they are Christians.
At the realisation that no one cares I just began to feel worse. I put my vote out in faith that just once this island would finally prove to me that it was a place worth living in, that all humans mattered. What I got back was exactly what I expected. Hate, hypocrisy, and people with a lot of mouth who didn’t vote. I learned that if you want to force your beliefs on the mass populace you can. That if this were war we would be the Jews and the christens would be Hitler. We are the slaves and the Christians are the white man. We are the oppressed and are being oppressed by the very people who fought so hard for their own rights. Honestly if all gays where black and all Christians were white would they agree with this behaviour. Yes. Yes they would because the bible was used then as justification for hate and that’s what is being done now. There is no difference.
I feel lost in a sea of pain heaped on me by people who believe it is their job to police the actions of others. My Bermudian people don’t care about all Bermudians. They only care about themselves. And to all the married men and men with girlfriends and fiancés, and every one of the DL and discrete with their online sex profiles, if you do believe in god and voted no, that’s’ some of the biggest punkass weak shit you could’ve ever done. God is watching and he knows you’re a homo in the sheets and Christian in the streets. Pushing your hate propaganda like you aren’t part of the problem.
I just wish that I could’ve woke up proud. That I wouldn’t spend the entire day on the verge of tears wondering if breathing is worth it at all. And more importantly the fact that no one cares I feel this way. My pain, my hurt, my struggle, my will to be my true self without judgement is irrelevant when it doesn’t fit into people's preconceived and conditioned aspects of what a man or woman should be.
Love doesn’t always win. Love isn’t unconditional. Beliefs are apparently laws in which case why even bother have a government stand for all the people. Might as well just pic a religion and let them govern the country. It’s obvious the government doesn’t care either because they made this referendum happen and now look where we are. Making history as another country fuelled by religious hypocrisy and hate.
Sunday, 13 March 2016
So the more I think about it the more I think I’m sticking to my guns on this relationship thing. Are there people that probably want to date me. Sure, but you have to draw the line somewhere. My latest observation. In the past few weeks I’ve regularly thought to myself oh he’s cute. Gone out of my way not to follow people around grocery stores and the like while secretly hopping I accidentally bump into people. Every, and I mean every single person that I peeped at some point or other their girlfriend showed up. If this doesn’t happen then they have a ring. I’ve gotten to the point where I almost actively and instinctively assume anyone I like is straight. Saves me stress and I of course immediately stop thinking about them.
I just can’t be bothered. I know what I want. What I like and I’ve got too much going on to be bothered with fantasising about things I can’t have. But I do it. I’m chronically depressed and if I’m not living in the world of the characters I write I’m living in the world I’ve fabricated for myself. I create imaginary scenes of being picked up. My Grammy awards speeches. Fake break ups and make ups. And a life with the type of person I dream of being with, who is usually flawed hence even in my fantasies there is a vast amount of imperfection. But the only difference is that in this world I ‘m happy with the type of guy I actually desire to be with.
If you read my books, it’s very clear what type of guy I find most appealing. Almost all my main characters are some sort of cultural mix ranging from Asian to European to Brazilian and of course Black. I’m down with anything that isn’t the norm black on black white on white, stupid on stupid, hot on hot smart with smart, so on and so forth. In my head there needs to be some sort of balance, chances are if English isn’t your first language the scales are already balancing in my mind.
But to the point of my subconsciously only like married or straight people, I wonder why sometimes. But then I know why. I live in a straight dominated world. I’ve suffered the same conditioning that straight people do, what is the ideal type of person, and I’ve taken all of that and formed my own idea of what will work for me, and true to form its exactly what people tell me Isn’t in line with what I need.
Hence I’ve spent an entire lifetime, of rather good relationships wouldn’t trade them for the world. Accept for one, but that idiots a bit of a subtle narcissist as in the type you can actually bare to live with and just ignore their condescending self-importance. But the point is I just did what was expected, gay boy bitching about being single if people want to date you date them. I’ve clearly learned a lot about myself following this method. And a lot about other people. Clearly there are shit loads of people out there who are just dating because people desire to date them. The need for companionship is just that strong. And yes this can lead to the best love ever, but so can actually wanting what you want and going for it.
So I’m taking my superficial, in some people’s eyes, criteria and I’m going to totally and fully accept that I know what the universe has for me. It is going to come, and I’d rather die alone miserable and depressed that to be in a relationship and still be alone miserable and depressed. So as unhealthy as it is to spend more time living in the made up alternative lives I create for myself, I’m taking this dive and slipping further into insanity. I just hate life too much and I at least deserve to have my make-believe times of happy. To fall asleep and hope that I can dream about the lives I create for myself. I have to believe it can indeed happen. If not, I might as well not even write because that also breathes in my world of make-believe.
So I’ll look at random people, cry on the inside, wish that it could be me, and hate myself just because that’s what I do. Then I’ll close my eyes and travel to a place where I’m not depressed where I don’t hate myself and the people I force myself not to check out actually try to pick me up. In this world I’m a happy albeit imperfect human being who actually makes money writing and reads his favourite novels in the arms of his BF while they are playing Xbox on the Livingroom sofa. Corny, simple and not the grandiose ideals of what I’m made to believe is love. But it works for me. Make-believe works for me.
Friday, 11 March 2016
So if you are reading this chances are you know that I’m a writer. Good on you. So I wrote this suspense psychological thriller that you can check out here. Yes, it has triggers and stuff so if you can’t deal with that type of thing, I totally get it. But that isn't the point of this post. I have one major issue with this book, and I'm going to post a video for this one to so you can physically see me talk about this, the fact that there is no backstory for my villains. This was intentional and well thought out. And this is why.
It is infinitely hard and sometimes impossible to undo something once it's been implanted into your mind. Just think inception. Once something affects the very core of your thought process it's there for say and in some cases you can't undo it.
The book is told from the perspective of the victim. They whole point of such a novel is that it is told from the emotional well of the mind of the person revealing the story. Anything outside of this realm should only be mentioned if it won’t change your view of the villain from their perspective. If this were an open book where whatever opinion, you made of said villain was totally on you then fine. But the point isn't for you to draw your own conclusion. It's to see why the protagonist of the book drew theirs, how they got where they got, and what permeant or reversible damage they suffered because of it.
If I gave any reasoning for why the villains do what they do in this book it would ruin it. Once you have a solid reasoning for what they did beyond what is tailored specifically for the book. It's over. I can't undo it. The certain amount of empathy that you've created for them or understanding would take so much work to undo the book would become, in part, about them and the reality of the situation is I still wouldn't be able to undo it. You just would not under any circumstances see them the way it is needed for you to see them to feel the emotional turmoil of the victims in the story.
This is a really big problem. For example, I saw a meme that was all upset over the whole Lion king where we get to see it from Timon's and Pumba's perspective. This meme creator wanted to see how Scar and Mufasa got to their bad point of brotherhood. The reality of the situation is this will change your entire view of the first lion king. It seems okay in theory, but what if it was Mufasa's fault. What if Scar should be king. What if he was actually some sort of favourite child and the parents just straight up disrespected scar. Now, even though Mufasa was a super amazing and in fact perfect King and a great father, we now care that Scar got eaten by the hyena's. This totally ruins the story. We aren't supposed to care not one bit that he gets his comeuppance. Besides, he gets the best one-liners and the Sarcasm just oozes out of him, one of the better Disney villains. Why would we want to ruin that with knowledge of he and his brother's past?
What makes fiction work is imagination? When you give people too much what is there left for them to fabricate on their own. To discuss later. To make assumptions for as to why things happened the way they did. There's nothing. Their brain isn't allowed to subconsciously fill on the gaps of the things you don't tell them. Most people have friends, siblings cousins. We can fabricate numerous reasons as to why the brother relationship went south. These are things we can willingly take for granted and not even second guess. Sibling rivalry. Yup we get that. Nothing else is needed. Same with my villain.
See the thing is most people have run into bad people raised in good environments who are just bad. The same as good people raised under horrible conditions that are just good. However, in the literary field when someone is bad there has to be a reason for some reason. Where is the why? Apparently it's perfectly acceptable to just be yes people can be inherently good but nooooo they can’t just be bad. I need back story! I demand it! But again this would totally ruin the book because the permanent thoughts place in your mind I won't ever undo in this lifetime.
People underestimate the power of actually not saying things. In my last book here there are some things I exposition the hell out of. That's because later on when it's important I’m not trying to go through pages and pages of all that show and don't tell nonsense. I just want to actually write the scene knowing I’ve placed the info you need to make it work in your head even if you can't remember a single bit of what I said. Your brain will automatically fill in what I don’t say with the info I gave you regardless of the fact that people are so anti tell and more show. It serves its purposes especially for a writer who prefers as a reader that you just explain shit to me. My brain will do the work for me. I guess I believe in some cases it’s def better not to tell, and in others it’s definitely better to tell, but only if either of these serve the purposes of allowing the reader to subconsciously hypothesise on their own. To create simultaneously while reading.
So as to my book. Well again the character’s breathe through every page though they get the least page time. Only speak when being vicious or pushing their own agenda. So ultimately they occupy your brain the most while having the least dialogue and the lowest amount of page time. And it was intentional and I stand by that.
As I said in the beginning all the things you will feel, think, and draw conclusions for from some sort of back story are exactly the things that will go against the visual you need of them for the book to work. And I very firmly stand by my opinion that if you can believe that people can be inherently good they can also be inherently evil. I see no difference. And I doubt that I ever will.
Tuesday, 9 February 2016
If you’re wondering where this is going. Good. With the fight against marriage in Bermuda being fiercely fought by the PMB (preserve marriage Bermuda.) it is time to write this long overdue post. I find myself some days wondering why so much fuss. Anti-abortion this, homosexuality that, is this movie PG, no fun dancing, ban this book it’s the work of Satan. The list is endless. Why oh why do they care so much? The more I thought about it the more I thought about why I don’t care that they are Christians.
See their faith doesn’t stop me from breathing. It doesn’t stop me from having my own opinion. It doesn’t stop me from getting out of bed in the morning and going to work. I honestly don’t even think about it. I don’t walk down the street like oh there goes a Christian and magically my day is somehow ruined. I’m perfectly confident in who I am. Why should I be bothered? If these are the reasons why I’m not bothered than it stands to reason they would be bothered by only one reason. That there’s some cracks in their belief system.
Sunday, 7 February 2016
Let me tell you a story. This story probably won’t be anything fantastical. In fact you will probably be wondering why I’m even bothering with telling you. But hold out till the end. Trust me it will make sense. And if it doesn’t, well that means it was probably meant for you to read it and you’re ignoring the obvious for your own personal delusions. In any case here it is.
On a day, sometime in some year on the planet earth a child was born. Yeah nothing at all new about this. Babies are born every day. Still this story gets even more typical as they named the child John. A nice name yes, but not all that original. There are loads of johns. John looked like his mother, no wait his dad, is this even important? Children always flip flop their likenesses depending on the onlooker. So more of the norm here.
He was born into the perfect family home. Both parents working. Both madly in love with him. Recording his first steps and torturing all the childfree friends they have by showing off these photos. Indeed, john was a celebrity in their eyes, even if only in their eyes. Parents, you gotta love em. John’s first word was, Jesus, I’m just kidding it was ‘no’. Odd since his parents almost always said yes but it’s just one of those cute little things that happen around children.
Sunday, 24 January 2016
Okay I thought about this, I have been thinking about it a lot and I think today is the time to post it. Why? I've realised I don't actually live in the real world. I live in this place where movie romances. (not the perfect ones, think more indie foreign not in an english language coming of age LGBT type romance. Those things are far from perfect) where they exist. Not just those but the books I read and the books I write. If you've ever read one of my books you know my relationships are not perfect at all but yet somehow they still work. And I find myself fantasizing daily on the type of life I could have with the type of people I can't have every-time I look at them during my day to day life. I'm almost thirty-five and I've hit that point where I realise i'm not in the space both mentally physically or even financially to get out of this constant state of loneliness and on this island... Never going to happen.