Tag Archives: muse


I’ve been reading more lately, way more than I’ve been in years. I’ve tried to focus my efforts on writing more, and felt thirsty for words. I had never starved myself as a writer. I thought with all the junk I read all day, every day, I’d been well fed. To the contrary. 

I’ve been working on multiple projects while not being able to really focus on one. My characters are patiently waiting to grow and do things but my mind is in a pit. Now I know why. 

I’ve been devouring psychological and horror thrillers and I can’t get enough. Is this a sign? I’m a big thriller person, always loved them for their fast pace and tension. They make me want to write like that. They make me want to hold my breath until the last possible second. 

I’ve neglected my craft and my muse isn’t too happy with me. I just need to focus. 

For now, I’ll satiate the hunger and read because writers can’t write if they’re malnourished. Enough of the junk, I’ll feast on the good stuff. 

I’m Back. #writing #creativeprocess #mentalblock

It hadn’t rained for the past few months. The sky stayed clear, and the earth below dry, just like her thoughts. All inspiration was gone, just like the muse.

So she stared at the window, hoping the drought wouldn’t last too long. “It happens to all writers”, she convinced herself. “My time of complete mental block is just taking forever to lift.”

She sighed. Grabbing the cup of coffee in front of her, she took a sip and sighed again. “I never used to drink coffee. I need some awakening. I’ve been in the dark for too long.”

Words came so easily before. Now, her brain lacked any creative flow.

“No, it shouldn’t last too long,” she repeated, as if the words had some magical meaning. But they didn’t. The truth shall set her free.

“Maybe, I’m just not a true writer.” Ah that truth hurt like hell.

Because she really believed she had a gift. Words were her friends at some point. She would think of something, anything, and that mustard seed gave rise to a majestic story. Whatever the topic, she could write about it. No biggie. She had it all figured out.

Until a few months back, when she started focusing on selling her latest book, instead of writing more. The time she spent doing what she thought was something, but in reality was nothing, dragged her into a hole where inspiration wasn’t invited. Worse, inspiration didn’t matter.

She was trying so hard to fit in. To find the special formula that would make anyone eat out of her hand like she was pooping gold. And did she poop gold? To her, her stories were priceless. To the rest of the world? The world didn’t care so much.

And that was the root of the problem. She wanted everyone to acknowledge what a brilliant author she was, instead of not giving a darn, and keeping her writing fresh. There was so much to be thankful for. The bestsellers didn’t make a difference. Her stories were about human conflict. No sex, no violence, just tales of people who lived their lives the best they could, and were everyday superheroes.

Because her creative juices came from the streets of New York City. And she knew how to bleed these streets dry by watching, and listening.

After an everlasting period of no real writing, today, the drought finally ended, and for the first time she wrote something. Her mind ran, and she ran with it. It felt so good to be friends with words again, and not to worry about selling books.

She was an author. A real one. Riddled by self-doubt, and all kinds of negative thoughts about her worth and talent.

Doubt didn’t matter anymore though. Deep down, she knew she’d kick ass.

And all she had to do was write.

Determination quote image

#MM Find Your Monday Muse!

Strolling yesterday among book shelves at Barnes & Nobles (always wondered why people hang out in bookstores but not in libraries), I told myself the day 32 Seconds comes out, I’m taking the place hostage until they kick me out. And if I don’t have the guts to take the place hostage, I’m dumping my book everywhere. You think someone will notice the book isn’t supposed to be there? An innocent bystander will totally buy it.

Anyway, long story short, yesterday I re-read my manuscript one more time and finally sent it for formatting and publishing prep. All the good stuff has to come to an end eventually. I’ll disregard the blood, sweat and tears, and the million hours spent writing this story. The torture was totally worth it!

I take the writing bug like an addiction. It’s not as out of control though. And while 32 Seconds gets beautified, I’m working on the first volume of the Manicheans (one out of many). I wouldn’t write if I wasn’t inspired by the Big Apple. I hate and love this town, but thank God I have it! It’s my muse. The stuff I see, hear, smell – the unmistakable stench of Times Square in the summer, the homeless passed out on the sidewalk, the teens smoking a blunt outside the bus terminal, the girls wearing clothing even a respectable hooker wouldn’t dare steal, all that stuff – it’s my life. I thought I could stay away from it, and just write from staring at trees – which I can do, but it’s just not the same – New York brings me back every time.

I not only live for this town, I also live for its people. The mix of cultures, languages, ethnicity, sexual orientation, and all the other stuff that make the City so unique, so vibrant, so entertaining, drive me to watch, listen and learn, until I’m full and words cascade down the page like a waterfall. Worse image would be like vomit, but I don’t really vomit words unless I’m pissed.

32 Seconds doesn’t take place in New York City but the City totally inspired me to write this book. Hope you’re as excited as I am for its upcoming release.

Stay out of trouble. Until tomorrow, folks!

#TT – Trigger the Muse

Ah yes. My muse loves to tell me what to do!! Sometimes though, she’s very silent and I need to trigger her so I can write.

screenshot-museThe internet gave me this cute little how to jump-start your muse list. The website it came from promotes a hypnotic writing wizard software – apparently, with a few hypnotic tricks, your mind will open like a flower and you can write a book at the speed of light.

Alright, I laugh at the idea. I mean come on. First, let’s look at this list. I don’t play the guitar but I do talk to myself all the time, and play with my cats every day. Pretend you are rich…nice one. Write nonsense. Take slow breaths. Mmmmmmmmm. Take a break? Shut up!!!

If there’s one thing I know, my muse doesn’t come over if I scratch my cat’s belly or if I believe my bank account balance is over one million dollars. For the hypnotic tricks, I don’t know about you, but I think hypnosis works great when you want to quit smoking, give birth, or travel back in time so you can get inspired. Maybe that’s what this software is about. Inspiration. And a great way to make money off gullible people who think they can write a book in three days without doing any research.

I’m gonna save my money because I don’t believe in shortcuts when it comes to writing. If you’re dedicated to writing, you’ll spend the necessary time to craft a great story.

To jump-start my muse, I do the following:

– I meditate

– I eat chocolate

– I play video games – or watch walkthroughs on YouTube


– I watch a movie

– I take a walk

– I go to work

– I talk to people

– I listen to people

And this list could go on and on and on…We all have different methods. My muse gets particularly cranky when I don’t give her the attention she deserves and leaves me dry, and I can’t write anything. Being a writer isn’t supposed to be a one-trick pony. I’d love to press a button and my muse would purr like a Ferrari engine. Maybe in another life.

How do you jump-start your muse?


#Life on Life’s Terms

When people tell me to take it easy, I usually react like this: fuck patience. I want things fast, and when it includes writing, gosh, I wish there was a pill I could take like in the movie Limitless, and write my book in six hours. My story would be brilliant, and perfect by the first draft. How cool would that be? Life on life’s terms? Yeah. Right.

The truth of the matter is, there’s no such pill on the market. And even if that pill existed, I would think twice before taking it. First, because I don’t take pills of any kind anymore (except the ones that are really necessary and won’t mess with my mind and sanity). Second, because writing is a process. It’s like giving birth to a child. It takes nine months to make a baby. It takes years to write a book. For me at least, it takes years. My thinking process evolves constantly, and a book doesn’t take two or three drafts, but at least fifteen, including rewrites. It’s painful. It’s beautiful. It’s worth the time and effort when the job is finally done.

I have a tendency to be over-critical of my work. I ask myself the same questions, over and over again. Is the story good? Does it make sense? Will it speak to people? I’m not here to give you fluff. I write about life, my life, and use fictional characters to basically tell you everything I do, think and dream of. Writing feels like cutting a piece of my own flesh and putting it on paper. It truly feels this way for me.

I have a day job. Hobbies. Friends. Commitments. A boyfriend. Cats. All of that takes away from the writing time. And I do get mad at myself for not giving my muse more attention. I wish I could write more. Do more. Life on life’s terms. Life asks of me to be there for others, before being there for my selfish self. So the writing sometimes takes more time than I like. But the end result often appears to be better than expected.

Because life makes me grow. Life gives me inspiration. Life proves to me on a daily basis that my art is versatile. Writing takes away my fears and worries. Writing gives me freedom to dig into myself deeper, and find wonderful treasures. Why should I rush through this? Why should I believe writing a book in six hours would be the best deal ever?

Life on life’s terms simply means time is not my enemy, but my ally. And as a dedicated writer, time helps me improve my craft. I heard from many people I should only work on my books, not blog as often, not be on social sites, not do this, not do that, but you know what? This is just something that doesn’t work for me. Maybe it works for others. I need to embrace the experience. Writing is my passion. If I start putting impossible deadlines on my work, I won’t go anywhere. I’ll probably die before the book is finished.

Life isn’t supposed to be rushed. Nor is writing. I’ll just keep telling myself these words over and over again to prevent the muse from screaming and kicking in the background.