Moving On To New Pastures

Photo by M.A.D.

Photo by M.A.D.

 

I call it adventures in living. I will be absent from this blog for a while. The time is undetermined, as I will be working along with my sidekick, building a new life, new dreams, and taking a leap of faith. During this time, I will be unable to reply to any comments or comment on any of my favorite blogs. I will miss you all, and as soon as I am able to return to blogging, I will share some of the process. I hope you don’t forget Inkspeare and stop by to read some of the older posts. We will be relocating to more natural and bucolic surroundings, and disconnected for a little while.

Wish us luck, keep us in your prayers, and may God bless you all.

Love,

Inkspeare

Release of Sunrise Souls

Finally! Sunrise Souls is published. It is the last book of The Dinorah Chronicles trilogy. The other books in the trilogy are Ramblings of the Spirit (Book 1) and The Book of Sharon (Book 2). The trilogy was inspired by my first novel Moonlit Valley, and is set 20 years after, which presented a challenge with Time, as far as aging and evolving certain characters without affecting the integrity of the first novel.

Sunrise Souls took a bit longer than anticipated, and I think I felt a bit more pressure because it was the last book, and what the first book set to fulfill, as far as the purpose of the protagonist – Dinorah Sandbeck – the last book had to reveal and complete. Although each book is written in a way that you don’t need to read the previous to know what is going on, each book is part of the big story – Dinorah’s purpose – and at the end, it is fulfilled. It was a challenge, but I feel that the trilogy had good closure, and I feel at peace with my protagonist.

This one is set in Rignano Garganico, Italy. Rignano Garganico is a southern little town in the Province of Foggia, Italy. It is a jewel, a little secret that sits atop a mountain, and rich in history, as it dates back to medieval times. When I imagined the setting of this book, I had in mind a picture of where I wanted Dinorah Sandbeck to be located. I knew it had to be in Italy, but preferably not near the Vatican, as this location plays a part in the story. I had a strong mental image, but had no idea where to find this place; so I armed myself with Google Earth, and asked, “If I was Dinorah Sandbeck, where would I go?” Immediately, I felt a pull to the area, and started my search nearby, and soon enough, I found myself navigating the streets of Rignano Garganico. It was a magical and serendipitous moment; it was the image I had in mind, and more. So I dedicated time to research as much as I could, although I didn’t find much information, but what I found was enough to give me a background on this enchanting place.

Here is a small excerpt from Sunrise Souls –  The southern little town in the province of Foggia sat atop a mountain, as if it was the entrance to heaven. The crisp white clouds were reminiscent of watching angels, only to be forgotten by the observer when the valleys bellow revealed a majestic panorama. At first, I was intrigued by it, but now, I was enchanted. Rignano Garganico was growing in my heart. 

There were a few times when I found many coincidental facts with my story, and I felt “at home.” This is something that I’ve heard many writers talk about, and experienced as well – the many coincidences they find when writing a story, serendipity. Throught the writing of the chronicles, I found myself smiling many times.

Here is a shot of the cover, and a bit about it. It is available via Amazon and Createspace in paperback and eBook.

sunrise soulscover2

Sunrise Souls

The Time is Now!

As the Sunrise Souls awake to embrace the decoding of a New Dawn – a new era for Earth and its inhabitants – a prophecy unveils. Dinorah Sandbeck, half-Human and half-Anarth, leads the decoding of a new Earth. As it was written, “Sunrise Souls, embrace your essence, and in doing so, fulfill the prophecy of a new dawn, the birth of a new Earth – 000.

So what now? I am happy to have done justice to my characters, and I am ready for the next novel. I don’t think that I will write another trilogy for a while; I prefer a single story, but that doesn’t mean that I am done writing trilogies or a series. I have several novels in mind, however, I will write the one that screams to be written now. This is something that I learned about myself as a writer sometime ago, and experienced more as I wrote The Dinorah Chronicles, and that is that in a way, a trilogy ties me down, and that is because I can only write one book at a time. For some reason, I cannot write multiple stories at once; it is not my writing style, and I can only eat and breathe one book at a time. I admire authors who can split their energy and inspiration into multiple stories at once.

Each book is an education in itself, and a writer always learns, experiences, and discovers new things via the story that he/she writes because it becomes a living entity that continues to evolve, even when the writer has written the last word, the end. It lives in the mind, the soul, and even the spirit of the writer, and it may stay there, or reappear years or decades after. No one knows, even the writer.

 

On Death

I am fascinated by Death, as a character. I like Death as a neutral being, for lack of a better fitting word. Death has been misrepresented, or ill-presented. Death is the elephant in the room; no one wants to think or talk about it. When we think of Death, we do it in a negative way. Death is unfair, scary, sad, a punishment, evil … . We try to cheat Death; we want to live as long as we can. We become healthier, exercise, eat well, take vitamins … just to live longer, to avoid meeting with Death. We cling to youth in many ways (creams, Botox, plastic surgery …) because by growing old we think we become closer to Death, and that scares us.

In movies, the hero cheats Death, saves others, and beats Death. We dream of vampires, eternal life, and we rather turn into a werewolf than face Death. It is only when the Vampire or the Werewolf (or any other creature) represents the threat of death that we destroy it, and we cheer – ah, we are safe. We put people on Death row for a long time, as if the wait prolongs the suffering.  Death doesn’t even have a face; it is represented as the ripper covered in a black-gray tunic who appears unexpected, uninvited, carrying its weapon of destruction. Even in suicide, the person does not embrace Death; instead, the person escapes life. However, Death doesn’t destroy at will (but we do); it doesn’t seem to have one. Death doesn’t take lives by choice (we do), and it doesn’t seem to enjoy its duty. Death only is, and it is always on time.

So this morning, as I pondered on this character who is so misunderstood and hated, I wrote Death a poem. Here it is, and I hope you enjoy it or at least that it gives you a different perspective.

Requiem
I do not belong
Nor do I seek.
Nor Heaven nor Hell
I wander the Earth.

Who am I?
Human at best?
Hint of divine?
Of evil a speck?

Of grace and humankind
The Earth is tired.
The ice a blanket throws
Blue hearts, frozen desires.

Divine, Evil, Human, morass.
Tired Earth Dooms Day awakes.
Melting core, frozen bones, at last
The apocalyptic boom, the end.

Nor who, nor what
Serving the times, perpetual task.
No will, no cry
Angel of Death, on time I am.

Writer’s Self Doubt

Am I good enough? It is the question that haunts our minds at one point or another, and if you have written for some time, you know what I mean. You might have 4,5,6 … 15 books under your belt, and that moment of weakness can take your breath away, and with it, chisel a bit of confidence. If you let it, it will keep chiseling until it creates a masterpiece of doubt, and at its worst, of fear. It is at that moment of balancing the writer-self with the ego when one wonders (or wanders), and even dares to question if it all makes sense. If you have been there (or are there), it is normal. Artists, whether writers, painters, sculptors … and any human that is passionate about something, passionate enough to doubt that is, will go through this act of balancing. The image of a circus clown crossed my mind.

Am I good enough? The only way to answer this is to keep going and find out. This is not the time to stop and wonder, but to keep pressing the dream, and regain your breath. At each breath of the pen, the air clears out, and with it any hints of fear that might try to creep up in the writer’s soul. After all, we are in a game of souls, and the mind chooses the setting, and the words flow.

Am I good enough? You’ll never know unless you press on.

 

*Sunrise Souls update – I am in the last revision phase, and almost ready for publication. This one has taken my breath away.

A Dreamer

I dream more books that I can write. I am a dreamer in every sense of the word. Today I wrote the last chapter of Sunrise Souls, the end of the trilogy – The Dinorah Chronicles. It took longer than anticipated, moving the December 2014 deadline to March 2015, and going past that deadline to the last week of April, today. This is the first draft, and now the hard work starts – rewriting, editing, and going through several drafts until it is ready for publication. I am very happy, and the last chapters have been written while I am going through excruciating lower back pain, taking breaks here and there, as the chair feels like a torture device, and my bed turned into a nail bed. Hey, it is all good.

The cover has been finalized, and I even ordered promo cards. Originally, I had a deadline of May 2015 for publication, pending for now, of course, due the amount of work that needs to be done. The experience of writing the last book in the trilogy was a bit different. I felt the pressure of the ending, as I became more critical of my writing. In addition, my health was challenged last year, my mood declined, and it added to the anxiety of meeting my expectations. Thinking of every roadblock I encountered, I don’t think that I performed too badly, as far as having the first draft ready today. I am grateful for that.

My next novel is waiting for me, and I think that I’ll put trilogies aside for a while. I have several novels waiting to be written, but I am letting the one that speaks louder to me become my next project. It is a process that I’ve learned to recognize as it filters to mind during my day, and captures my thoughts in the evening, sometimes making its way into my dreams. It demands to be written, thus muting the voice of the other possible novels.

I’ll share my progress here, and for now, here is a lovely picture of the first draft of Sunrise Souls.

SUNRISE SOULS

First draft – Sunrise Souls. Photo by M.A.D.

 

Earth Soul – a Poem

Just wrote this poem. Happy Earth Day!

 

Earth Soul

 

Fragile as glass

The mighty rock

Jasmine of the Universe

Spec of my soul.

 

If one day, departed my soul

I’d searched the heavens

Looking for home

Diamond in blue, heavenly song.

I Cannot Predict the Future – My Best is Yet to Come

I CANNOT PREDICT THE FUTURE – MY BEST IS YET TO COME.

This post is on attitude. If you can predict the future with one hundred percent accuracy, please do not keep reading.

I tend to ponder my future, and my future as a writer. Writing makes me happy. However, creativity needs nourishment, and many times, this nourishment comes in the form of results. If you are a writer, you know exactly what I mean. You also know that writing is not easy, and takes much work, effort, and faith. Sometimes, you might feel as if you are writing just for yourself, but results come in many forms – the comment of a reader, a good review, the praise of an unlikely reader, sales … you name it. That doesn’t necessarily translate into confidence and the assurance that one’s work is worthy of being in print. Again I tell you, if you are a writer, you know what I mean.

A few months ago, I dared ask a question to someone who has read my books (and is not related to me or a close friend – hence why I asked). I asked,”From 1 to 5, what do you rate my work so far, me as a writer?” She thought about it, and I became nervous because there were other clients at ear-distance in her office. Silently, I cursed myself for asking; now I was not sure if I could take her answer, because I knew that she would answer truthfully. A few seconds went by, then she looked at me in the eye and said, “Four, I give you a 4.” Immediately, a weight lifted from my heart, and I exhale relief. I said, “Four, that is good, very good.” If she had rated a 5, then I would have been disappointed, and suspicious. I know that there is ample room for becoming the best writer I can be, and I have to grow much more, hence why I was hoping for any number under 5, but at the same time, nervous about anything under. Reviews of one’s books are one thing, and subjective to the taste of readers, but my question went above a specific novel, and this is why I hesitated after I asked. It was the first time I had ask anyone this, and probably the last.

The other day I was conversing with my nephew, a sage for his young age. We talked about life from one’s age perspective. It was a good conversation, and later on it made me ponder about my future, and my future as a writer, as well as some plans and goals, but overall, I thought about my image of a writer’s life, and how it compared to the image of writer-self, now and in the future. It was an interesting exercise that gave me deep insight and exposed me. In the end, it didn’t matter much to me, except knowing that I cannot predict the future, and my best is yet to come, but only if I keep giving my best NOW.

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