34 hours…

It’s now or never. There are still $385 to raise for the campaign to reach its goal. Lots of perks still available.

It’s extremely important that we raise the funds. It’s important for the future of this blog, for all my upcoming projects. If you believe in me, if you want to help me with my writing, if you enjoy what I write, or if you simply want to reach a bigger audience, all that can be done here.

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Without you

Without you I would have probably given up on my dream of becoming a published writer. Without you, I wouldn’t have dared imagine that I might someday accomplish all the dreams that I have stored up in my heart. You know, the impossible ones, the truly terrifying to even contemplate, the ones you think will change your life forever. And the world around you.

Without you, I have no audience. I have no one to write for, no one to write to, and without writing something each day, I have no purpose. Maybe it’s melodramatic, maybe it’s the truth. Who knows?

But, also, without your help, this blog won’t survive. All my future projects won’t get to be launched. Less than five days left and there’s still $415 to raise. Seventeen people have contributed so far. There are still a lot of perks available.

If you believe in this blog, if you believe in me, in what I’m doing here, you can contribute any amount you see fit here.

Regret

things“Regret comes in all shapes and sizes. Some are small like when we do a bad thing for a good reason. Some are bigger like when you let down a friend.

Some of us escape the pain of regret by making the right choice. Some of us have little time for regret because we’re looking forward to the future. Sometimes we have to fight to come to terms with the past, and sometimes we bury our regret by promising to change your own ways.

But our biggest regrets are not for the things we did, but for the things we didn’t do.”

This quote is a voice-over from One Tree Hill, which is one of my favorite TV shows.

I’ve always thought regret to be one of man’s worst qualities. I’ve spent an awful lot of time trying to develop a sort of immunity. For a long time I’d much rather believe in destiny, in the fact that bad things happen for a good reason, than spend hours and hours sobbing after what could no longer be. Continue reading

That moment…

A couple of weeks ago I almost gave up on this blog, on writing, on basically everything I was. Quite a strange moment. I was afraid that I might never become what I’ve always wanted to be.

Because, as any self-publisher can tell you, summer is tough. Book sales always go down. In my case, they almost stopped. Even though I released a new title, that just wasn’t enough.

Sometimes things happen, and we can’t explain them. This was one of those times. Continue reading

On letting go

books

The moment you buy any of my books and read it, that’s when that book becomes yours. And only yours. And you can take from it anything you want. You can love it, you can hate it, you can love me or hate me, but at that point I no longer care.

I find that’s the only way to actually “survive” as an artist. At least, without wanting to shoot yourself in the head every time someone tells you they hate your work. And it’s the only way to actually get past that paralyzing fear of rejection, that stupid voice inside your head telling you, over and over again, that your book is not good enough yet, that you need to work on it a little bit more… and so you spend so much time editing the same fifty thousand words that they stop feeling yours anymore. Continue reading

Summer afternoon

summerHenry James thought “summer afternoon” to be the two most beautiful words in the English language. The hopeless romantic in me wants to agree. He can see the melancholy beauty of the landscape only two words create. He can see a place, a time, he can feel a faint breeze.

And he can also feel love. Continue reading

Are writers crazy?

crazyOr artists in general?

I’m sure this is not your usual Friday type of post, and I could easily answer with another question: who isn’t? And then I could go back to writing and stuff.

Instead, I’m going to write an actual post. About crazy writers. And stuff.

So here goes nothing. Continue reading