The Writer: Chapter 2

Octavio Paz once said that solitude is the profoundest fact of the human condition. Sometimes I think this is how Hell is supposed to be. A dark, empty room. Or a huge city with no one but yourself for company.

I know that you’re here just because you want to find out what really happened to Oscar, but I’m afraid I’m going to disappoint you. I am going to read you one of my stories instead.

Why? Because every writer wants to be read, every storyteller wants to be heard.

 

Crossroads

 

“El sueño de la razón produce monstruos.” – Francisco Goya

His chest felt heavy, his legs tired. Dead leaves rustled under his feet. Nailed to the sky, the moon’s sardonic smile quivered among a cluster of cold stars. His body just a coffin for his soul, Robert seemed to take every footstep with infinite precaution, as if fearing that the dirt road would swallow his feet.

On each side, pine trees stood tall. Ancient guardians.

“Though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of-” he tried to recite, but was interrupted by hounds barking somewhere in the distance. Long, reverberating shivers of sounds that seemed to had spawned from hell itself bashed against his ears. His black skin glistened with sweat; droplets shuddered down from his hairline to his eyebrows, down his temples. The skin of his neck burned, hot. His eyes glimmered in the dark void, hopelessly trying to peer through that endless ocean of fear and agony. He pressed the guitar to his chest, his long arms forming a desperate embrace around the black wood. The sharp smell of lacquer flooded his nose. Continue reading

Advertisements

The Writer: Chapter 1

The only thing that is worth remembering, and worth remembering over and over again, is that in this world, under all and any circumstance, nothing ever happens.

My name is Jonathan Fisher and I can stare at the sun longer than anyone else on this planet. Longer than you. And I am afraid you are not going to like me.

Most of the time I’m just a ghost, a shadow riding in the back seat of a bus, a whisper travelling across a Universe only ten miles wide. So it shouldn’t surprise you that the first event I can recall with an almost morbid precision took place on my twenty third birthday. That was the day we buried my father. Continue reading

Why failing is (kind of) a good thing

failing

They say you can’t beat a man who doesn’t give up.

The first piece of writing I ever wrote was rubbish. And I kept on adding more rubbish. Then I wrote something else. And then someone said I was a retard. And I wanted to prove them wrong.

I’ve failed time and time again. In all aspects of life.

The first novel I self-published sold 4 copies in 4 months. It got a single 2 star review on Goodreads, and then I unpublished the damn thing.

And yet I didn’t give up.

Continue reading

The Internet is free, right? [Part Two]

First of all, I’d like to thank Jeff, Michael, and Alice for their donations.

Secondly, in case you haven’t already, I’d like to ask you to read the first part of this post here.

Now, let’s get down to it:

I won’t take much of your time.

So, I kinda need your help to keep this blog alive. I also have something to offer you:

THE E-BOOK BUNDLE

”I completely fell in love with Cristian Mihai’s beautiful way of writing. His main character, Chris Sommers, is an embodiment of realism. His persona was much attune to what some of us feel about ambition, love, and the realization of heartbreaking disappointment. I felt a connection to him in a much deeper level than I’ve ever known. Mihai’s writing style just reaches out to you, captures you – without letting go for a moment. It’s also very personal that you just can’t help but love the main protagonist. There were times where it pained me to stop reading because I wanted to note down my favorite quotes from the novel because it was just that amazingly brilliant.” – E.S. praise for Jazz.

Fourteen years of writing. Six years of Amazon releases. A lot of time and effort. Experimenting with style, technique, and storylines. This is what this e-book bundle is all about.

An e-book bundle containing my five major releases. And something special. At a special price.

Jazz – Read reviews on Goodreads here.

My first novel, an unrequited love story. Classic. I set out to write Jazz, owning nothing more than a few scattered images and the desire to write about Paris. I built my beautiful and mysterious woman, my young and naïve writer, and all the other characters in my story. And brick after brick I built my melancholic city.

Sometimes the characters let me in without complaining too much. I was allowed into their world the minute I punched the first keys. But other times it wasn’t like that. Other times I had to work hard to get in; I had to struggle to leave the real world behind.

”This book was very unexpected. It made me think about what is means to be a writer, what the process of creation means not only to the creator but to those who are affected by what has been written. Much of what Mihai says here will resonate with anyone who has ever struggled to put words on paper.” – Cynthia Dumarin, praise for The Writer.

The Writer – Read reviews on Goodreads here.

The Writer is a novel about a guy, Jonathan Fisher. It’s a first person account of how he became a writer.

The Writer is also what some people might call Literary Fiction. With a touch of Magical Realism.

The Writer is Metafiction, meaning that it’s a novel about a writer writing a story.

The Writer is a frame-story. Jonathan Fisher somehow decides, on a mostly random basis, that he wants to read a story to the audience. Well, it’s not precisely the audience, because Jonathan Fisher is actually addressing a certain someone. Anyway, he still insists on reading from his short story collection.

And then there’s this guy, Jonathan Fisher. There’s something broken about him. He’s just an observer. That’s what makes him so frightening. He’s the kind of guy who’ll walk right past a woman getting mugged. He never intervenes. He’s happy to be a shadow. I know there are far worse people (and fictional characters) out there, but…

Dream City and Other Stories – Read reviews on Goodreads here.

A magnificent painting, a few memories in a notebook, a letter to his son. Paul is dying, and he wants one thing and one thing only: he wants to feel he’s in control. He doesn’t feel free anymore, just because a disease is eating away his life, so every morning when he wakes up he puts a gun to his temple and closes his eyes.

Like he says, “True freedom comes from the realization that you can kill yourself at any time.”

 

 

2:22 AM – Read reviews on Goodreads here.

“Where have you been all my life?” you once asked her. You stared her in the eyes and smiled and she smiled back, a bit scared by what you just said.

You told her that you’d like to hold her hand.

“Why?” she asked.

“Because I could conquer the world… if only you’d hold my hand.”

She lay down her cup. She put it to the side of the table, then moved the ashtray next to it. Then she did the same with your cup. She put her hand on the table, palm up. And she said, “You’re brave, you know? To think that you can conquer the world with just one hand.”

2:22 AM is a short novel written from the perspective of two people who break up. They don’t want to, but it happens. The days go by, they both struggling to find comfort in the fact that the other one is never coming back.

”I was drawn in after reading the first page. Being a “hopeless” romantic I could empathize with both characters but I felt a connection with “him”. The authors description of loneliness, excitement, regret and pain is so intense, I became emotional while reading. It is gripping, honest and touching. Beautiful story…” – Melanie Lawson, praise for 2:22 AM.

closer is the story of a man who is so seduced by the desire to get rich that he becomes involved in a world where anything is permitted. His journey to the top is interrupted by the consequences of his past actions. Things become darker, more violent and more sexually disturbing than he could ever have imagined as he tries to break himself free from his past.

Deft, shocking and unforgettable, this gripping tale about risk, consequence and the treacherous balance between the two reveals a world where there’s nothing to separate right from wrong.


And a bonus. The Best of Cristian Mihai(2012-2017). Essays and blog posts. On art, life, love…

This e-book bundle is available for only $19.99 $9.99 on my e-store here.

CLICK HERE TO PURCHASE AND SUPPORT MY WRITING

Never give up on your dreams

523213_441480405922775_1158081202_nOne of my favorite quotes goes like this: “Courage is not the absence of fear but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear.”

Ambrose Redmon wrote that.

Fear is an impulse, or like the tattoo on my arm says, “Fear is the mind killer.” Frank Herbert wrote that. In Dune. So you can’t stop being afraid, but you can fight fear, you can control it.

I don’t think I ever told you how I became a writer. Or if I did, it was long ago. Continue reading

How to Find Your “Voice” as a Writer

Voice is one of the most important elements of any great writer. No doubt about it.

Without a unique “voice”, they wouldn’t have had so many readers.

But what is this voice, exactly? And how can you make it come through in your writing?

Well, let’s think of voice. Some have a deep tonality, a certain way of articulating words. They have a style. They talk like no one else you ever met. Others have this squeaky voice that sounds like scratching a blackboard with your fingernails, and even though what they’re saying could make a lot of sense, and it could be something witty and smart, you can’t wait for them to shut up, because you can’t understand a thing they’re saying anyway.

Well, the same is true for your writing. No one can hear you, but they can feel you through the words you use and how you choose to use them.

Odds are that you are struggling to find your voice as a writer. To find that style. Odds are that you are also putting a lot of pressure on yourself to be unique. To write like no one else before you.

If only you knew how simple it really is.

You just got to write like yourself.

[READ MORE]

The Traveler

Disclaimer: This new project of mine is called God, The Devil, and a Man walk into a bar.

Caminante, no hay camino,
se hace camino al andar.
Antonio Machado

The traveler sat down on a sand dune and saw nothing. He heard nothing. He feared the worst. He had reached a truly godforsaken place: a vast, mournful pan of emptiness where anything sentient resented anything else that was alive. Every sun-scoured scrap of fauna had barbs, hooks or thorns, every animal had poison, paw or claw. Scorpions scuttled and snakes hissed and slithered while they went about their grisly business of survival. Even sand was an enemy. It burned his feet raw, it stinged his eyes and acted as a surrogate for pain.

His skin felt like scraped by sandpaper, his tongue was cloven to the roof of his mouth. His eyes felt like they’d melted into the back of his mind, making everything seem mirage-like. He knew he was alone, abandoned, and doomed. A colorless heat haze had blurred out the background and his vision had become myopic.

Yet, through the silence, through the nothing, something throbbed, something gleamed. Continue reading