Writers Are Passionate People, But Can They Be Multi-passionate? Yes, They Can!

I’ve written before whining and moaning about my writing difficulties and insecurities.  But have I told you about the other things that I'm passionate about?  For one, I like to make jewelry.  I find myself staring at women in the street, the bus, the train or when I’m out to lunch.  No, not that way; I’m looking at their jewelry and trying to deconstruct it with my eyes so that I can figure out how it was made.  Then decide that I can do that. 

Another passion of mine is Archery and I try to enjoy the sport whenever I can.  Sadly it isn’t as often as I would want, but I try to do it once a month.  I’m also passionate about Halloween and love to dress up and make my own costumes which can be a bit time consuming.

Next up on the list of passions is that I like to go to The Renaissance Faire.  Last year, I dressed up in a blue Renaissance gown and pretended to be a Princess.  I had my hair braided with flowers and gave a slight bow of the head when the occasional peasant curtsied before me saying “My Lady”.  I really enjoyed that part.  Soon, it’ll be time to go again so I started looking online for a new gown because a girl, I mean a Princess, can’t go to The Renaissance Faire two years in a row wearing the same gown.  It’s a rule, look it up.  It’s in the guidebook of Renaissance Faire etiquette that I made up.

I found several gowns that I liked but unfortunately they were priced a bit beyond my budget.  Apparently my kingdom’s coffers aren’t as full of gold and jewels as I would like.  The reality is that I don’t have a budget for such things but you know how it is.  When you really want something you figure out a way to get it even if it means siphoning money from the utility bill payment.  Not that I would do that, of course, but I did think about it and was sorely tempted.  

But something happened instead.  I got this crazy idea.  You see, I looked at these dresses and decided that I can do that. Why not?  Just cut a few pieces of fabric, pin them together, stitch and voila – instant Renaissance gown.  This crazy wonderful idea wouldn’t leave my head, so I bought the fabric and I’m going to dive right into making this gown.  I don’t have any formal sewing training but my motto is “make it work”, so I’ll repeat it over and over like a mantra until the gown is done. 

Hopefully the end result won’t scream "amateur home-made dress!" So this is now my latest passion that I have to schedule into my life and maybe it won’t intrude into my writing time too much. I might do another post and upload progress pictures.  Wish me luck!

Can't Find The Time To Write? Make Time - Use A Kitchen Timer

I like to visit writing websites for tips and ideas on improving my craft.  Recently, I came across an article giving a helpful tip for those of us who have a busy schedule and can’t find the time to write.  The tip is to not only turn off phones, not check e-mails, visit social media sites or even surf the net, but to buy an analog kitchen timer.  And my first thought was “yeah right, I have a kitchen timer app on my phone; I can just use that.” – then dismissed the tip.

But then I remembered that the article said to turn off phones because phones are a distraction – calls coming in, checking voicemail, calling your teenage daughter to see where she is and what she’s doing, who she’s hanging out with today.  See?  All of that distracts you from writing.  And the point of the article was that we all have the same twenty-four hours to work with.  There isn’t any extra time.  So we have to carve time out for ourselves and not allow anyone or anything to distract us from it.  Basically, we are to set the timer for twenty minutes and write unimpeded.  Once the timer rings, we’re to stop writing.  Maybe some of you can set your timer for longer but I thought this was a great idea because twenty minutes doesn’t seem like a lot to ask for.

Last Friday, I set out to get the kitchen timer.  I knew just where to get it, Bed Bath and Beyond – a place that I can’t go to without adult supervision and a 20% off coupon.  I went anyway by myself sans the coupon and yes, I put quite a few things in the shopping cart.  Why was I pushing a shopping cart when all I went there for was a kitchen timer?  I don’t know.  I have a problem.  The good news is that at the end I put everything back and only bought the kitchen timer. 

Okay back to that.  Every kitchen timer I saw had a face: owls, pigs and even a very cute ladybug.  I didn’t want a kitchen timer with a face because my crazy imagination runs rampant sometimes. Okay it happens all the time and I didn’t want to imagine the ladybug telling me in a nagging voice: “That’s all you wrote?”  So I kept rummaging the shelves until I found the One!  It’s a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket timer and I thought perfect!  This timer is a symbolic representation of celebration and it was the last one and at $3.99, I said “Sold!”

I haven’t used it yet but I’m anticipating that I will carve out twenty minutes this week.  I’m very excited!  Of course, I’ll be even more excited if someone sends me a 20% off coupon so I can go back to Bed Bath and Beyond.  Just kidding!  I told you I have a problem.  Maybe I’ll write about it or maybe I’ll browbeat my friends into handing me their coupons.

Anyway, when not in use it’s stored on my wall cubbyhole so that it’s in front of me gently reminding me to use it and also as a sort of Law Of Attraction subconscious nudge.

P.S.: This post isn’t really about writing.  It’s about my insane obsession with getting 20% off coupons for Bed Bath and Beyond.  You know what?  Why don’t you scan your coupon and email it to me?  Will they accept that? I wonder…

Book Review of Become by Ali Cross

Become is the fabulous story of Desolation, a girl torn between two worlds - Helheim, where she grew up and Midgard where she now finds herself. 

Desolation struggles with the decision to become what her father, Loki, wishes her to be or to give in to the warmth she guarded deep in her heart. The warmth she knew came from her mother - a Guardian - a mother she never knew.

Desolation is placed in the care of fallen humans under her father's command as she deals with past memories, unresolved turmoil, self doubt, and the urge to take the easy way out and return home. Her only source of comfort came from Lucy, a woman who embraced her with love.

Loki expects her to Become - to give in to the darkness and transform into a being that personifies mankind's depravity. She despises her name and what it signifies for her to transform into that which her name means. Instead she insists on being referred to as Desi – her small attempt at rebellion knowing that in the end her father will get what he wants. In order to Become, Desi is to assist Miri, an alcoholic and tortured soul end her mortal life, but in the process Desi opens her heart and instead chooses to protect Miri.

Things get complicated when she discovers that Michael, an Angel of Asgard and the boy from her memories, goes to the same school. She's conflicted by feelings of warmth and love whenever she's with him - feelings that spark old memories of a garden. It’s too much to bear when she looks into his golden eyes knowing he’s an Angel and she's a demon – and demons can’t love nor do they deserve to be loved.

Akaros, her father’s right-hand man and the demon who trained her in combat, is preparing for war. He’ll stand at nothing to either force Desi to Become or destroy her in the process.

Now the time has come to make a decision - to fight and protect Midgard or Become as her father has commanded.

I really enjoyed this book. The story flowed smoothly and the characters were believable. Desi had to choose between Helheim, the world she’s always known, and Midgard, a world in danger of destruction and the world where her friends live, while at the same time learning to believe in herself and her destiny.

Desi is a strong character, who is full of self doubt but her inner strength grows as the story develops. When we first meet Desi, she’s a character with amnesia, whose brief remembering of old memories leave her fearful and impotent but in the end she discovers her true purpose and gains the strength to fight for what she believes.

My favorite aspect of this novel is the way the author infused it with Norse Mythology. It's a refreshing change from the heavily saturated Catholicism that permeates most stories of good versus evil.

My Time Out For Writing

I’ve been away for a while and my reason or better yet my excuse for going away was that I needed the time to get back to writing.  Yet my focus remained foggy and redirected to other areas.  I guess that’s fine.  Sometimes, life gets in the way of things and people can’t just sit around and write all day and forget about every aspect of their lives.  It would be nice if things just sorted themselves out so that I could while the hours away daydreaming all sorts of adventures.  But after a while, the laundry piles up, the dishes need washing and the dust bunnies are larger than my cats.  Then there are the other aspects of life, like the relationships that we have with our family and friends.  How the dynamics of these relationships will not survive nay tolerate neglect.  And even though I took that time off for myself to focus on the whole “I’m a writer” bit, it didn’t actually happen.  Not the way I had envisioned it would, anyway.

I worked on a book review for the book I finished reading called Become by Ali Cross.  It took me forever to get it done and I sweated and struggled through every bit of it.  I’ve never done a book review before.  How could I call myself a writer if I can’t write a book review, right?  After all, writing a book review is writing, isn’t it?  Eventually, I finished it and that is the product of my time off.  Can you believe it?  One page - just one page of writing in over a month.  But the real secret is that it didn’t take me a month to write it.  For the first two weeks off, I did nothing!

I’m amazed at other writers who manage to amass 1-2,000 words a day.  When I try to write keeping track of my word count, I freeze up.  The word meter plummets instead of rising.  I’m weird; the way I write is strange I guess.  Usually inspiration hits me and sometimes it actually feels physical.  It’s like a left hook that leaves me reeling and other times it’s an almost electric nervous energy that courses through me.  Each time and regardless of the symptoms I must get the story out.  I type and type heeding nothing else - not food, drink, or household chores and often don’t stop until I’m about to collapse from sleep exhaustion.  If, I don’t let this happen; if I restrain myself from letting the story, chapter, scene whatever it is out – it dies.  I lose it never to regain it no matter how hard I try.  And let's not talk about plotting; that's like pulling teeth.  It's either painful or it puts me to sleep because there's nothing happening in the gray matter.

So I began to believe that I must be a writer because normal people don’t go through this.  Do they?  Yet at the same time, I think that no, I couldn’t be a writer because the compulsion to write everything down doesn’t touch me.  I detest journal writing – could never write my personal feelings down – ever.  What if someone were to read them?  I don’t write about what happened on my vacation, not like I’ve had one but you get the idea.  I make lists but that’s different.  I relate that more to a sense of organization.  If I don’t make a list, I won’t remember everything I need to get from the store.  It’s as simple as that.

Well, I don’t know what I am but I hope someday to finish the novel I’m working on.  Maybe then, I can say I’m a writer and all this nonsense about what I am and what I’m not won’t matter.

Time Out - Writer At Work

I’ve been busy with other things that have pulled me in different directions and taken me away from writing.  I haven’t worked on my novel or any of my other incomplete WIPs. There aren’t enough hours in the day to do everything I need to do.  So, I will take a little time out to work on my writing.  Even if I only manage to write a little, I have to get back on the wagon. 

My neglect has been rampant and I must do something about it before my characters mutiny.  It’ll be a day or two, maybe a few days.  Just long enough but short enough that I can convince myself that I’m back on track.  That way I can believe myself to be a writer and not feel guilty about  my lapse or even worse feel like a poser.

  

Anyway, I’m stalling now so…later.

Phluvoighan Aggression - Episode Three

The Biogeometer’s signal bleeped in shorter intervals as they approached the mines on the left outermost edge of the mountains. Veudan, his shoulders hunched, led - his phaser rifle set on level three. He wasn’t taking any chances that a stun setting might not be enough to protect his commanding officer. Although the RBC suits protected them from the storm’s effects, the force of the winds slowed their approach through the rocky landscape. Drokkan pulled at the medi-beds to keep them from blowing away – the powerful winds made it difficult for the hover-mechanism of the medi-beds to remain steady. They had only managed 50 paces and were nearing a large mound of rock debris, when phaser fire erupted from different directions. Veudan returned fire with expert ease while Drokkan tied down the medi-beds to a large rock.

“How many do you see?” Drokkan asked as he shot down a Phluvoigh

“Too many sir - we’re surrounded! Veudan answered killing three Phluvoighans in a single pass. More Phluvoigh replaced their fallen comrades; most were perched above the cliffs ruthlessly targeting them while others faced them head on.

“Drastic measures Veudan! Fire the plasma grenades!” Drokkan commanded hunching down as more phaser fire rained down on them.

“Aye sir!” Veudan answered with glee and inserted the plasma grenade clip to his phaser rifle. A brazen group detached from the rest and charged forward.  Veudan targeted them in his sight and fired the grenade - the blast scattered the limbs and the Phluvoigh on the ground beat a hasty retreat.  But it didn't deter those on the cliffs, who increased their phaser fire.  Veudan counteracted with a few well placed plasma grenade shots - the giggle that escaped him evidence that he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

Inside the cave, Crewman Inertia was brought out of her deep healing meditation by the sound of explosions. She supposed that the sounds she heard meant that Commander Drokkan had sent another rescue party for them.  After communicating with Commander Drokkan, she cleared her mind of her initial trauma and relied on her training to speed up her healing. Memories of her youth in Cardia flashed behind her eyelids as she remembered the teachings of her mentor who had taught her the ancient forms of healing through meditation and energy work.  It was the focusing of this healing energy that she was now channeling into herself and Captain Faasha.  One hand supporting her ribs and the other resting lightly on Captain Faasha’s forehead; the thumb pressing against the temple. The dull pain of her throbbing ribs made it difficult to draw air and the intermittent coughing sent stabbing pain through her.  The Biogeometer indicated they were running out of air and the unbidden thought that they wouldn’t make it shook her confidence.   But she was a Cardian and Cardians were born stubborn; it was in their genetic makeup.  Looking down at her captain, she decided that she would do what it took to ensure that Captain Faasha survived.  After repositioning herself and placing both hands on the Captain’s forehead, thumbs at the temples, Crewman Inertia refocused her energies once more.

The onslaught of the Phluvoighans continued undeterred forcing Veudan and Drokkan back into the mines while tendrils of smoke rose from the molten lump that used to be a medi-bed.

“How many plasma grenades do we have left?” Drokkan asked limping backwards favoring his left leg as they sought shelter in the mines.

“Three grenades left, sir” Veudan responded. He had switched some time ago to standard phaser fire now set to level four.

“Acknowledged - the Biogeometer indicates that we’re thirty paces too far to the right. The only alternative left is to use the phasers to cut a section of the rock. I’ll provide cover while you work on it.” Drokkan leaned against the mine wall; the leg of his RBC suit had a large burn from when he was hit by the Phluvoighan’s illegally modified Type-1 phaser rifle.

“Sir, this section of the wall is too thick to cut through. I recommend using a plasma grenade to dislodge the fallen rocks that sealed the entrance to the cave.” Veudan asked

“The blast could cause more debris to fall and make it worse for the Captain and Crewman Inertia. Scan for a thinner section of the wall and create a passage wide enough for the medi-bed to get through.” Drokkan said noticing the sudden quiet. The Phluvoighans had ceased firing.

“I don’t like it sir. They’re up to something!” Veudan scanned the area, the rifle pointed and ready to fire at anything that moved.

“We don’t have much time, Veudan. Get to work on that opening!” Drokkan commanded

Phluvoighan Aggression - Episode Two

Amidst coughing and wheezing Crewman Inertia opened her eyes to a stream of dust particles that were illuminated by the track light of a Biogeometer. It took a moment to gather the strength to move her body – first her toes and legs and then progressing to her arms. They weren’t broken but her abdomen hurt and she suspected she may have a few fractured ribs. She felt a body next to her. It was obvious that this was the person whose Biogeometer provided the only light in the darkened cave. Slowly she turned her head and even though the person was turned away from her, she could recognize her Captain. Clearly, the captain tried to rescue her and had now been injured in the process. She needed to contact the ship for help immediately. Turning on her side was excruciatingly painful but slowly she managed to sit up.

Her own communicator had been damaged in the attack so she tapped her Captain’s communicator. “Crewman Inertia to Bridge” The hoarse whisper of the Crewman was barely audible through the distortion, but Drokkan’s heightened sense of hearing detected it. “Crewman report!” he braced the Comm. Station as if willing it to transmit clearly. She kept her face close to the floor trying to inhale what little air she could, amidst the coughing fits that drained her strength. “Crewman Inertia, I repeat, report!” It took a few breaths to be able to respond to Lieutenant Commander Drokkan. “Trapped in a cave - Situation: W.U.D.I.” She could taste the blood every time she coughed and knew she was bleeding internally; her hold on consciousness slipping.

Back on the bridge Drokkan paced back and forth from one control panel to another looking over the shoulders of the Bridge’s crew as if he could find answers they couldn’t. Spiky tufts of blue hair strayed from their military regulation coif and his usual nerves of titanium were stretched taut. The circumstances were worse than he thought as he heard Crewman Inertia report W.U.D.I. – Wounded, Unconscious and Death Imminent. He tried to get more information but the only response was static. With the storm in full force, transport was impossible. He would have to send a manned shuttle-craft to rescue them, but would he have enough time to get them out alive? Should he risk additional crew to save them?

Captain Faasha’s orders had been clear: assume command in 20 kelms. During their earlier briefing Faasha had planned to leave orbit, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave them behind. His decision made, he headed towards the lift doors “Loecus and Veudan, you’re with me!” Two crewmen immediately relinquished their posts and entered the lift with Drokkan.


As soon as the shuttle-craft bay doors opened, the shuttle-craft darted forward at full speed with Drokkan at the helm. Loecus manned the Science station while Veudan monitored the Tactical controls for hostile forces. The electromagnetic waves of the Red Dwarf Sun’s flares bombarded the shuttle-craft’s shields causing the shuttle-craft to buckle and shake. “Commander, the storm is concentrated at 64.4885 degrees North by 52.2327 degrees East. Based on the coordinates that the Captain was transported to, the cave would be somewhere in the eastern region of the planet.”

“What are your recommendations?” Drokkan asked never taking his eyes off the view screen.

“Sir, according to my calculations we have to veer further southeast to avoid the worst of the storm. I recommend a heading of 12.3552 degrees South by 45.2614 degrees East. That will bring us close enough to the caves without too much damage to the shuttle-craft.”


“Agreed - enter the new heading” said Drokkan turning to Veudan “Anything to report?”


“No sir. Besides the storm, all seems quiet on the planet. The Phluvoighans must have gone underground to the mines.”


“How are the shields holding?”


“We are at 87% and holding, sir.”


“Loecus, how long before we can land?”


“At the current velocity, we should be over the caves in 11 kelms, sir.”


“Good, I’m activating the auto pilot. Loecus put your suit on first I’ll cover your station, then Veudan will go next.”


“Yes, sir.” The young Crewman got up immediately to don the RBC (Radioactive, Biological, & Chemical Agents) suit.


Within 5 kelms all three men were back at their stations wearing the RBC suits ready to enter the planet’s atmosphere.


“Veudan, concentrate main shields to the shuttle-craft’s bow!” Drokkan worked the controls trying to steady the shuttle-craft.


“Maximum shields on forward bow, aye sir!”


The shuttle-craft entered the planet’s atmosphere engulfed in a maroon corona; its trajectory heading east towards the mining caves. As the shuttle-craft circumvented the mining camp, metal doors opened on the ground, phaser cannons lifted into position, aimed and targeted the shuttle-craft.


“Commander, phaser cannons have locked on us!” Veudan shouted


“Disable the cannons!” Drokkan shouted as he implemented evasive maneuvers. Phaser cannon shots disturbed the air around the shuttle-craft as it navigated closer to the mines. Crewman Veudan’s phaser shots damaging the cannon but not disabling it. The cannon repeatedly targeted the shuttle-craft, shooting along its trajectory.


“More power to aft shields!” Drokkan commanded as he maneuvered the shuttle-craft west.


“Aye, more power to Aft shields!” Veudan confirmed


“Commander!” Crewman Loecus called out “2.2125 degrees East! Life signs, sir!”


“Confirmed!” said Drokkan as he piloted the shuttle-craft in that direction. Crewman Veudan continued phaser fire on the cannon disabling it.


Drokkan looked for a safe place to land the shuttle-craft while Crewman Loecus kept monitoring for Captain Faasha and Crewman Inertia’s life signs.


“Veudan, are the Phluvoighans in pursuit?” Drokkan asked


“No signs of Phluvoighans within 30 meters sir. Being underground their life signs can be camouflaged until they’re upon us. We must hurry!” Veudan responded


“Acknowledged.” Drokkan left the helm and moved towards the back of the shuttle-craft getting the equipment ready. “Loecus, you will stay with the shuttle-craft and scan for the Phluvoigh. Keep the shields up until we contact you.”


“Aye sir.” Crewman Loecus moved from the navigational controls to the Tactical station while Drokkan and Veudan armed themselves with phasers and gathered the medi-beds. Loecus deactivated the shields to the shuttle-craft’s aft and Veudan opened the hatch. The incandescent heat of the winds bombarded them as they exited the shuttle-craft. Crewman Loecus immediately closed the hatch and reactivated shields to the shuttle-craft’s aft; monitoring all life signs as Drokkan and Veudan went in search.

E-Book Release News Flash!

New Yorker, Magaly Guerrero, released her E-Book titled “AlmaMia Cienfuegos: a Story of Blood, Scars and Nightmares" on May 15, 2012.  

Ms. Guerrero is also the author of Pagan-Culture, a blog that chronicles everyday life through the eyes of a dark fiction writer.  She can also be found at her writing blog, Magaly Guerrero, where her readers are entertained with snippets of fiction that are part of larger works in progress.

After serving in the United States Marine Corps for ten years, Ms. Guerrero pursued her dream to become a writer.  She is a delightfully entertaining blogger and author who has a loyal following.  Her easy disposition earns the affection of her readers and she demonstrates potential for a best seller in her genre.

AlmaMia Cienfuegos: a Story of Blood, Scars and Nightmares can be purchased through Amazon.com.  For an excerpt of the book click here.

You can learn more about Magaly at www.pagan-culture.blogspot.com and at www.magalyguerrero.com.