If you’ve been following this blog for a few months, you probably know that I’ve been struggling. Trying to obtain much needed funding for my projects and novels. But also trying to make ends meet. You know, there’s nothing romantic in wondering whether or not you’re going to eat the next day.
Yet I tried my best. I wrote and wrote, and I blogged.
Sometimes I wonder whether or not I should give up. If I’m actually not good enough. But I’ve always liked inspiring people, no matter how I felt about myself or my life. The truth is, I really am a deeply unhappy person. I’m just trying to make everyone else feel better than I do. I’ve always done that.
I just want to do what I love… don’t know.
This website depends on you. My future depends on you. This blog… my career. Two and a half years of work…
I can’t even describe how frustrating all this has become. How impossible it all seems. It’s all going from bad to worse.
There’s really nothing else to say.
If you want to help me out, if you really do want that, you can contribute any amount you see fit via PayPal to to contact [at] cristianmihai [dot] net. Any amount matters. Any amount helps me immensely.
You can also purchase advertising here.
Also, anyone who donates $50 or more will be featured as sponsor for one month and will get a blog post reblogged.
I often say that people should set short time achievable goals and crazy long term dreams. The thing is, we live in a world of small steps. Even though we don’t like to admit it, even though we often choose to search for a shortcut, progress is an extremely slow process. Excruciatingly so at times.
So it’s understandable that this year I set out to write. That’s the most important thing a writer can do. Then, I wanted to sell a few books. Not a precise number… I just wanted to sell a few books. Self-publishers know how difficult it is to sell just one copy of your book. Not ten, not a thousand, just one. Continue reading
“We grow great by dreams. All big men are dreamers.
They see things in the soft haze of a spring day or in the red fire of a long winter’s evening.
Some of us let these great dreams die, but others nourish and protect them;
nurse them through bad days till they bring them to the sunshine and light
which comes always to those who sincerely hope that their dreams will come true. “
– Woodrow Wilson
People like to believe talent, luck, success, skill to be given to you by… don’t know. They’re just given to you, I suppose. They’re just things you recognize in other people, but never in yourself.
People tend to believe that greatness cannot be achieved. It is granted.
I say this is wrong.
“Worry destroys the ability to write.” — Ernest Hemingway
Maybe you’re familiar with Franz Kafka’s short story, A Hunger Artist, maybe you’re not. It doesn’t really matter. One of the main themes of the story (the way I see it) is the fact that artists most often feel misunderstood by their audience. And they’re furious because of that.
That’s a myth.
Most often than not it’s the artist’s inability to show people what he wants to show them that gets in the way. Continue reading
When asked, ‘How do you write?’ I invariably answer, ‘one word at a time.’ – Stephen King
Sometimes I catch a glimpse of the future. Whether is just a scene from a chapter I have yet to write, or the ending line, or just a few lines of dialogue. That’s magic. That’s power. I know something that no one else knows, and it’s entirely up to me to bring it to life. Continue reading
“The loneliest moment in someone’s life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart, and all they can do is stare blankly.” – F. Scott Fitzgerald
I’m almost twenty four years old. A fragile age indeed; I have yet to conquer all the good and the bad that life can throw at me. But I’ve seen things, I’ve done things. Scars have been inflicted upon my body and soul. I’ve kept secrets, I’ve nurtured bizarre dreams and fantasies until they became demons. I’ve lost more battles than I can count…
And I’ve fallen… time and time again…
And yet… it’s not the fall that breaks most people. It’s the fear that they’ll never rise up again.
In January 2011 I self-published a novel. It was badly written, badly edited, and I had absolutely no idea how to sell it. I had no online presence: no blog, no Facebook page, no Twitter.
So I sold 4 copies in 4 months. It was a disaster. I received a 2 star review on Goodreads, and then I decided to un-publish the damn thing.
And I gave up writing. For a few months, that is. Continue reading