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 It got a single 2 star review on Goodreads, and then I unpublished the damn thing.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.
Less than six months after I got published, I won the Pulitzer. Actually… I’m just kidding. I sold, well, I really didn’t sell many books.
I know what you’re thinking right now. What a waste of time and energy. But I don’t regret it. The calling is for you to write stories. Good or bad, it doesn’t matter. Success is something that comes as a bonus, if you’re lucky enough.
But still, there were times when I thought that I could have made things differently; I could have tried to write a new book, a better one. But I didn’t. I guess that I had exhausted my patience and courage. Continue reading
He enters the waiting room, sees all the other patients eagerly waiting to be called into the doctor’s office. They all nod in that peculiar manner; they are here because of necessity, rather than choice. He sits on the only available chair and takes out his cell phone. It’s so warm inside that he has to struggle not to yawn.
But then he looks up and sees her.
It’s always such a shock to see someone beautiful in places you wouldn’t expect to see anything of importance.
At first, he doesn’t give much thought into it. His eyes keep darting around the room, scanning the austere furniture and white walls. Waves of heat scratch their way out of his chest. He can feel it in his blood, he can feel his body hot as a furnace. He runs his tongue across his upper lip.
A certain photograph grabs his attention; a black and white photograph of a public phone’s handset hanging inside the booth. The more he stares at it the more it seems that the handset is oscillating, spiraling on its metallic chord. So he glances back at her.
His mind is drowning in a mesmerizing and ridiculous dream… in which the passage of time is irrelevant. Continue reading
Do you know what the saddest thing about you is?
No one is going to remember you. Fifty years from now, when you’re long gone, when all the pictures of you and your family have decayed like old bones in a cemetery, you’ll be less than nothing.
It will be as if you never even existed.
So what’s the purpose of it all? Why should you pretend to be the good guy, why are you trying to bring judgment upon the world, when the world itself doesn’t want you, doesn’t need you, and most certainly is going to forget you the moment you die? Why would anyone want to be nothing? Continue reading
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
One 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 states, “Fear is the mind killer.” Frank Herbert wrote that.
What does fear have to do with anything? Well, it has a lot to do with how I became a writer. Continue reading
Romania is last in the European Union when it comes to reading books. The book market here is something out of a horror story for writers.
What do these two sentences mean?
I shouldn’t be able to do what I do. And I don’t think that you ever gave it a thought while reading my posts.