A top of the best and most popular essays published on this blog.
Free download this weekend only.
I decided to offer each one of my titles as a free book. One per day. Cool stuff.
A heartbreaking portrayal of ambition, treachery, and deception, Jazz tells the story of Chris Sommers, a young aspiring writer from New York, who travels to Paris in the hopes of meeting Amber, a mysterious and beautiful woman he has always been irresistibly drawn to.
Chris is soon thrust into a world where everyone seems to be playing a dangerous and corrupt game. Anything is permissible, and even secrets that have been locked away inside the most hidden drawers of the soul will slowly resurface.
For such a young writer, Cristian Mihai shows amazing promise with Jazz. His writing style has a distinct swagger to it, which really appeals to me. What I also love…Mihai isn’t afraid to make the reader feel.
There’s a lot to like about this psychological thought-provoking short story that is filled with picture painted prose.
Cristian Mihai paints a beautiful picture for the reader. He’s a very descriptive writer who not only describes the scenery in such a way that envelops the reader, but he also paints a vivid picture of the players. Readers will feel Chris and Amber’s emotions and perhaps even pity them. Jazz is a well written work and Cristian Mihai is definitely a talented artist.
You know the legend the Ancient Greeks had about humans? That they once had four legs and four arms and heads with two faces? That Zeus, afraid of them being too powerful, decided to split them in half, damned them to spend a lifetime in search of their missing halves?
No, not a lifetime, but a thousand lifetimes…
Everything she did carried with it the solemn grace of a ritual. Her mornings were alike, but never the same.
She’d walk out on the balcony of her small flat to stretch her arms and legs and breathe in the new day. Her lungs filled with something more than just air, something exhilarating and fresh, wearing a pair of black shorts and a white undershirt, her naked feet caressing the marbled floor, she’d smile at the lethargic city.
“Good morning, Paris,” she’d whisper, staring at the Eiffel Tower cutting through an angry sea of buildings, cars, and noises.
As the new day rushed through her veins, her smile would grow bigger and bigger. Her smile screamed of life and passion and love. Her smile was life.
I thought I’d write this short post to let you know I have a site where I post a free short story every week.
For those of you who enjoy reading fiction.
For those of you who like short stories.
For those of you who enjoy my writing.
They say you’ll live forever if a writer falls in love with you.
The same principle applies to love. You need to get your heart broken.
Because it’s the only way one can grow.
Let me explain.
Boy meets girl. Boy hopelessly falls in love. Girl soon feels the same about him. They spend a while together, and then one of them decides it’s no longer worth it, and they leave.
The outcome is the same: pain, bitterness, regret…
What is wrong with you?
How could they do such a thing?
And so on and so forth… with a bit of tears (or more of them) and a lot of questions.
Some folks choose to never find out the answers to those questions, while others decide other people are stupid and can’t appreciate a good thing when they see it.
But a few will learn from this. A few will strive to understand things.
Yes, it is a very painful process.
Depression and anxiety kicks in.
You stop taking care of yourself, for what is the purpose?
You pretend you’re okay on the outside, but you’re slowly dying on the inside.
But you learn… you do.
You kind of understand, after a while, that happiness and self worth are not for sale. That you cannot be truly yourself if you have to look in the hearts and minds of others for validation.
You understand that it is important to be the best version that you can be.
You now know never to become complacent, never to settle.
To do more. To aspire for more.
Because you’ll be dead soon enough anyway.
Because when hearts break, death seems like a mild nuissance.
It is life that is truly terrifying. Complex beyond belief.
If it was simple before your heart shattered into a million pieces, now you’ve got to grab all those pieces and somehow glue them back together.
Some of you might argue that a broken heart is no longer as strong.
I beg to differ.
Hearts break only once. The rest are just scratches.
“Yet each man kills the thing he loves,
By each let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword!
Some kill their love when they are young,
And some when they are old;
Some strangle with the hands of Lust,
Some with the hands of Gold:
The kindest use a knife, because
The dead so soon grow cold.
Some love too little, some too long,
Some sell, and others buy;
Some do the deed with many tears,
And some without a sigh:
For each man kills the thing he loves,
Yet each man does not die.”
― Oscar Wilde
Here they were, holding hands, staring down at the dark, endless abyss. Here they were, standing at the edge of forever.
Time gave the illusion of having stopped.
All they had was now. No future, no past. Just now. A singular moment, an infinite stretch of emotions and words left unsaid.
“I could conquer the world with one hand,” he told her. “If only you’d hold the other.”
She stared back at him and smiled – she wasn’t strong enough for words to leave her pretty mouth.
He pressed his lips against hers, embraced her with trembling arms. Looking over her shoulder, he could see over the edge of the cliff.
From where they were standing, he could barely see the river. He took a few steps towards the edge of the cliff; pebbles rattled and rumbled all the way down. Tears fell down over the edge of the world, never to reach the ground. Continue reading