Writing is a gift
Your words convey true feelings
Inspire everyone
Your stories bring hope
Share them with everyone now
Invigorate dreams
Writing’s a journey
Embrace the path everyday
Always love your craft
Writing
When Your Dream Becomes Reality
When your dream becomes reality,
a sense of self-accomplishment,
unbridled joy,
boastful pride,
all come together
in one harmonious fashion
When your dream becomes reality,
the endless hard work,
excruciating trials,
never-ending tribulations,
were all the catalyst
in creating your character
When your dream becomes reality,
new found worries arise
trepidation,
dismay,
the fear of never achieving
another goal again
But you’ve been down this road
you never gave up
against all odds,
all naysayers,
you prevailed,
you believed in yourself
and in doing so
that is
When your dream becomes reality.
I Am A Writer
Being a writer, professional or amateur, whether it be in screenplays, novels, short stories, poems, blogs, articles, is one of the greatest feelings to experience. We proudly claim that title and revel in the pure joy of our creations. We are the dreamers that have no limits and our imaginations are vastly unique.
We, as writers, follow our heart and passionately tell stories of love, inspiration, hope, despair, sadness, joy and humor; it can come from personal experience or it could be purely fictional.
Our urge to let loose our “inner voice” and send them into the world is quite courageous. Our vulnerability is on full display. We subject ourselves to complete and total strangers who will either love it, hate it, criticize it, berate it, praise it, be informed by it or be inspired by it.
We learn from it, accept it and grow to become even better artists of our craft. Regardless of the outcome, we persevere. Writers love what they do; writing nurtures our artistic soul. It fills a need that non-writers can’t understand.
Writers continue on with their journey because it’s never-ending. The path will only end when our mind’s well runs dry. But all my fellow writers know, that’ll never happen.
So to all my fellow colleagues, remember that you are a writer! Don’t ever forget that only “you” can be the one to tell “your” stories. You are the masters of your craft; it’s a lifestyle formed from countless hours of blood, sweat and tears with a heavy dose of passion and heart.
Write, write every day. Follow your heart and always dream big.
My 2nd Anniversary
I can’t believe it, just had to pinch myself. It’s officially been 2 years since I started this venture of blogging…didn’t think I’d last a year let alone two. It somehow feels more like 3 or 4 years but time really has a way of making things seem longer than what they really are. Nonetheless, I am plugging away and putting myself out there for others to stop by and peruse my musings.
I can honestly say that this truly was a journey, one that I was a bit skeptic at undertaking; it kind of felt like homework to me. One where I would be critiqued by not one, not two but countless of others who would find aspects of my work unappealing.
I hesitated for a moment thinking “Am I crazy?! I don’t need to deal with this!” But at my manager’s behest, and her unbridled positive enthusiasm, I decided to “Go for it!”
Even though my blog site is still a work in progress and I haven’t found a niche, I’ve found this venture to be both therapeutic and phenomenal.
I used to be afraid of what people would say about my writing style, my stories, my poems and even my rants and raves. Just putting myself out there without regard of what negative feedback I may get is somewhat liberating.
It’s as if this blog site was my personal diary; a place where I can let my inner voice run wild. A place where my ideas and feelings can paint a picture that was somehow hidden deep within my somnolent consciousness.
Every post written, every word chosen enabled me to create my art with unbridled pride and joy. AND sharing myself…giving some semblance of positivity, inspiration and insight into how I see the world is invigorating. I’m lucky to be able to do this of my own volition. I love what I’ve done so far and eagerly look forward to what I come up with on my next post.
Where To Find That Fountain Of Endless Ideas
I know I’ve broached the subject on what to blog or not blog before, but I just can’t seem to let it go. So please forgive me if I sound like a broken record.
Being a writer, I’ve always made it a point to write often and consistently; it’s the only way that we as writers get better at our craft. When I’m writing a screenplay, I just seem to have an endless supply of ideas…a flash flood of thoughts just inundate my brain and there is no barrier to quell it. But that’s a good problem to have in that instance.
In the case of my blog site though, I tend to hit a road block week after week. You’d think that after two years of having this site I’d be a pro by now, but that isn’t the case. I’m one of the unfortunate ones that just doesn’t have a niche.
I hate to say this but I’m quite envious (more like jealous) of the blog sites that I follow. They all seem to have found their “voice” and are excelling at making their site exceptionally well thought out. Their writing is intriguing and holds me emotionally; I actually become invested into what they have to say.
Day after day, week after week, their vast array of topics are fresh, interesting and sometimes unconventional; it’s like they have an unlimited amount of ideas to choose from at their disposal. Sigh…I wish that I could be like them…they’re my idols.
For me to come up with a topic on my blog site is somewhat excruciating. I never really know what I’m going to write until the day before, and even then it’s not the best of topics sometimes.
You might say, “Then why do you have to write something every week? Why don’t you write once a month? Or why don’t you write when you have something relevant to say?”
I can answer all those questions in one simple answer – I’m a writer…plain and simple. I have to write on a consistent basis to get better at my craft. I’m not the most eloquent, artistic, humorous or intelligent of writers but I love what I do nonetheless. 
This sense of freedom; getting into a Zen-like state where you pen “heart” to paper and let it loose upon the internet masses. This is what I enjoy the most.
So I guess I’ll never crack this dilemma of the conception for new weekly blog ideas. Maybe that’s good thing, who knows. All I know is that I’m still here sitting at my desk…writing…because “I am a writer.”
Positively Positive Haikus
The sun shines brightly
Happiness engulfs me now
Time to spread the joy
To smile means to care
My love for you know no bounds
Always…Forever
Laughter of children
Innocence so refreshing
Dreams and hopes alive
Following your dreams
Your story is a journey
Inspire everyone
You’re a great writer
Send your work into the world
Set your stories free
Let Your “Inner Voice Shine Through
In my opinion, one of the best things about being a writer is showcasing our inner voice through our pieces of prose to the world. Our writing style, our choice of words and our descriptive passages all reflect our artistic expression hidden deep within. 
Everyone’s writing style is unique; it can be eloquent, serious, humorous, wordy, concise or simple. The fact that we get our point across to any and all readers, in whatever fashion our voice dictates, is truly amazing. AND the painstaking years that it took just to get us comfortable in writing is a feat in itself. AND the tremendous courage it takes to put forth our laborious effort for strangers to read. 
That’s why I enjoy reading other people’s work; I love the fact that they took the time to share something that was on their mind. I’m able to get a semblance of their personality through their choice of topics and words. It’s like meeting a stranger and getting to know them through their writing. The more I read, the more I become familiar with them. 
We as writers share a piece of our soul in the hopes of bringing to view something that we feel has value and get a sense of self-satisfaction from doing so. Our reasons for exhibiting our work can be therapeutic, informative or for entertainment.
I’ve known a couple of writers, however, that were quite hesitant to impart their work for public viewing for fear of crucifying comments or lack of praise. They toiled over their piece but found it difficult to take it to the next step; in the end, they abandoned their desire for writing. It was a sad loss because I felt that they had something of quality that was worth sharing.
We need to lose all inhibitions and accept the fact that there will be some people that’ll like what we write and others that’ll hate it. It all comes with the territory of our craft and shouldn’t be a factor in deterring our passion for writing.
The joy we get from putting pen to paper, the dedication to honing our craft, the anticipation of producing something substantial from a mere thought and the gratification from seeing the final product are qualities that strengthen our passion. In the end, our devotion to writing should outweigh all reactions, whether it be good or bad. So let loose, face your fears, WRITE and let your “Inner Voice”shine through.
Our “Special” Gift
I always marvel at the fact that we, as writers, can conjure up practically anything we desire with our writing. We come up with the most creative stories, the most enticing screenplays, the most eloquent poetry and the most humorous prose.
No two stories, poems, blog posts or screenplays are alike. Yes they may have the same idea or premise but the way it is executed on page and presented to the reader is very individualistic. Our inner voice comes through our choice of words and how we arrange them and the reader is fortunate to choose which voice he or she best relates to.
We really have a gift if you think about it and we choose to share it with others in hopes of educating them, inspiring them, entertaining them and even provoking critical thought among them. Our passion has no bounds.
The world, our experiences, our family, our friends and random conversation overheard is our muse. We get a spark and it gestates in our subconscious mind until it is ready to flow freely onto our computer screens.
AND some of the stuff that we come up with is totally mind-boggling. As writers, we choose to ignore the plausible and go with what our inner voice is screaming at us to write. Just imagine if we put limitations on ourselves and our creativity, you know how boring our concepts would be.
Every day I thank God that I’m able to write something that at least someone, somewhere would enjoy reading. I might not be the most creative, eloquent or concise writer but I write how I feel and that’s all that truly matters; I think that this is the common thread that is prevalent among all of my fellow peers.
Writing is our craft, our voice…and our desire to share it with the world regardless of the outcome is admirable don’t you think. 
When I started as a writer, I came across a poem that really spoke to me. Unfortunately it was written anonymously and I lost my only copy of it. But I remembered a portion from that particular poem that I took to heart and I want to share it with all of my fellow writing colleagues – all you screenwriters, poets, bloggers, story tellers:
“Writing is a gift
given to few,
Don’t ever give it up
or you won’t be you”
Forever With You
A twinkling in your eyes I see
in the darkness of the night,
all hurt and pain has left me now
cause I’ve finally seen the light
I don’t know how I’ve gone this far
without really knowing you,
my life has suddenly taken a turn
everything seems so new
In your eyes I see a vision,
in my heart I know it’s true
this feeling that grows from deep within
is all because of you
You’re all that I’m longing for
You’re all my dreams come true
My life would be so complete
If I could spend forever with you
It’s amazing how love really works
it’s astonishing to see,
You, out of all the strangers in the world
that was truly meant for me
Love is purely magical
in each and every way,
If my heart had a mind of its own
this is what it’ll say:
“Do you believe in magic?
I hope you really do,
cause the love that stirs from deep within
is all because of you
No part of me will let you go
You’re all my dreams come true
My life would be so complete
If I could spend forever with you”
I believe in love because
it’s special and so true,
cause it found it’s place within my heart
and I owe it all to you
I’ll always be there, by your side
You’re all my dreams come true
My love will you let me spend –
Forever With You.
A Bike For All Ages
In the town of Panville, there lived a young boy named Skylar. He was no ordinary boy…he was a PAPERBOY!
You’re thinking, “What’s so great about that?!” Well, it’s not the fact that he was a paperboy that was so amazing, but HOW he delivered the newspapers.
The whole neighborhood would watch and wait for Skylar to ride by on his “Commodore” bike.
You could tell the bike was old. Rust spots here and there, chipped paint, dings and dents were the things that gave Commodore character. And when Skylar rode it, they moved as one. It was pure magic.
Skylar could do things on his bike that others only dreamed of. He was able to jump over tall fences, spin in mid-air and move around obstacles with ease. When delivering newspapers, people would watch and be amazed at his spectacular riding performance.
The people on his route would always marvel at his feats.
Mrs. Smith enjoyed when Skylar hopped on one wheel over her rose garden and throw the paper right on her doorstep.
Mr. Payne clapped loudly whenever Skylar did a somersault over his fish pond and handed him the paper.
Little Suzie would cheer every time Skylar soared over her like a bird.
There was nothing that Skylar and his Commodore bike couldn’t do.
One day while on his route, he noticed a new family moving into his neighborhood. As the people unloaded their things, he saw a boy off to the side unpacking a long rectangular box with the name Quicksilver on it.
This caught Skylar’s attention, so he continued to watch the boy.
Out of the box came a shiny silver bike. The boy hopped on it and took off down the street. He whizzed by Skylar so fast that he was almost a blur. Skylar was truly impressed.
A few seconds later, the boy returned and skidded to a stop next to Skylar.
“Hi, I’m Frankie. What’s yours?” said the new boy.
“Skylar.”
Skylar stared at Frankie’s Quicksilver and then looked at his Commodore bike; he felt embarrassed.
Frankie asked “Hey, wanna race?”
Knowing how fast Frankie could ride, Skylar declined.
“Then how’s about we play follow the leader?” said Frankie.
Skylar thought that was something he could easily do. “Sure why not” he replied.
“Great, I’ll go first. Follow me” said Frankie.
The two boys took off with Frankie in the lead.
Up one street, down another. Around one block, then another and another. Skylar pedaled hard and fast but was not able to keep up with Frankie’s Quicksilver.
Frankie was so far ahead that Skylar simply gave up.
Skylar looked at his Commodore, “Why can’t you be fast like that! You’re old, I need a new bike. Maybe a new one like Quicksilver.” With that, he rode home.
Bright and early the next morning, Skylar leaped out of bed and made dash for his piggy bank. Just then, Skylar’s mom popped her head into his room, “What’re you doing?”
“I’m going to buy a new bike.”
“What’s wrong with the one you have now?” asked his mom.
Skylar answered firmly, “It’s not a Quicksilver.”
“Do you have enough saved up?” asked his mom.
“YES!” Skylar exclaimed.
“Okay then, I’ll take you down to the bike shop.”
“Thanks” said Skylar who was busy counting his money.
A few hours later, Skylar came down the street on his brand new Quicksilver. He saw Frankie and rode up to him.
“Hey, you got a bike just like mine” said Frankie.
“Yeah, isn’t that great! Now I can go just as fast as you. Wanna play follow the leader?” Skylar said in eagerness.
“Sure” responded Frankie.
“Okay, but this time…I’ll lead” Skylar extolled.
The two boys took off down the street and up another. Around one block, then another and another.
Skylar could not believe the speed of Quicksilver. He was truly excited. After a fun-filled day of follow the leader, Skylar went home.
He pulled into his garage and parked Quicksilver next to Commodore. He patted Quicksilver’s seat and said, “Boy, I’m glad I got you. You’re fast, can’t wait to use you on my route tomorrow.”
As night fell, the two bikes came alive.
Commodore moved closer to Quicksilver. “Hi I’m Commodore, what’s your name?”
Quicksilver moved away and answered in a fast paced tone. “Be careful…vroom, vroom, vroom…I don’t want any dirt on my new paint.”
“You sure move fast” Commodore noted.
“You bet…vroom, vroom, vroom.”
“Guess that’s why Skylar likes you. Can you do any tricks?” inquired Commodore.
“Who needs to do trick when you can move like me…vroom, vroom, vroom” said Quicksilver.
“I guess you’ll be able to help Skylar finish his paper route in no time. No wonder he wanted you” Commodore said in a sad tone.
“Yep…vroom, vroom, vroom…I was built for speed. Now if you don’t mind I need my rest so I can have energy to go fast tomorrow.”
“Oh okay. Good night” and with that a depressed Commodore moved back to his spot.
The next day came and Skylar burst into the garage with a bag full of newspapers. He carefully got onto Quicksilver, making sure not to scratch the paint.
“All right, I’ll finish my route in no time. This’ll be great!”
With that, off he went. VROOM, VROOM, VROOM, SWOOSH. Wind blowing in his face, hair flapping wildly about. Skylar liked the feeling of going fast.
The neighborhood knew it was time and waited anxiously for Skylar’s arrival.
SWOOSH! Skylar came charging down the street and readied the papers for his neighbors. Along the way, he noticed something different but couldn’t quite figure out what it was.
As he approached Mrs. Smith’s house, he tried to leap over her rose garden but Quicksilver would not budge.
CRUNCH! Quicksilver travelled so fast that it flattened Mrs. Smith’s rose garden and caused Skylar to send her newspaper crashing through her window.
Mrs. Smith was shocked, “OH NO! MY PRECIOUS FLOWERS!”
Skylar was moving so fast that he could not stop to apologize.
He sped onto his next destination: Mr. Payne.
“Vroom, vroom, vroom” was the only sound coming from Quicksilver.
“Something’s wrong” noted Skylar as he drew closer to Mr. Payne’s fish pond.
“Time to do our somersault over the fish pond” thought Skylar, “Don’t mess up.”
No good. SPLASH! Skylar and Quicksilver went through the fish pond, dowsing Mr. Payne with water and hitting him in the head with the paper in the process.
Mr. Payne rubbed his bruised head and in shock ran towards his pond, “OH NO! MY POOR FISH!”
Skylar was too far away and moving way too fast to say sorry.
Skylar soon thought to himself, “This is not going well. I’d better stop and walk the rest of my route before I wreck something else.”
He applied the brakes but Quicksilver would not stop. He tried again and again and again but nothing happened. It’s as if Quicksilver had a mind of its own.
“Why won’t you stop?!” wondered Skylar.
The only sound coming from Quicksilver was “Vroom, vroom, vroom!”
Skylar and Quicksilver sped down the street and was soon coming upon little Suzie’s house.
Suzie was waving at Skylar in total excitement, “Yea, Skylar’s coming! Yea!”
“Holy cow!” exclaimed a worried Skylar. He frantically pressed on the brake REAL HARD but nothing happened.
Quicksilver raced towards little Suzie.
“Vroom, vroom, vroom!”
He motioned to Suzie and yelled “GET OUT OF THE WAY!” but she was too busy cheering to hear. She was in real danger.
As he fast approached little Suzie, Skylar needed to take action. His eyes scanned the area for an answer to his problem.
“THAT’S IT!” Skylar barely managed to avoid hitting little Suzie by veering into a small stone wall.
“VROOM, VROOM, VROOM!”
As the wall fast approached, Skylar held onto the bike’s handle bars and propped his on the seat. He readied himself for impact.
“Get ready, five…four…three…two…one…” he leaped off. KA-BLAM! Quicksilver crashed into the wall as Skylar soared into the air like a bird.
KER-PLASH! He landed square into a neighbor’s swimming pool.
Little Suzie ran and peered over the wall, “WOW, THAT WAS NEAT! DO IT AGAIN! DO IT AGAIN!”
“No thanks, once was enough for me” sighed a drenched Skylar. He hopped over the wall and took in the sight of his once brand new Quicksilver bike.
Pieces of it lay all over. One tire here, another tire there, handle bar bent, pedals broken off, bike chain lodged in crack of the wall and seat hanging on a nearby shrub.
In the middle of all this mess, lay a scratched up and warped frame.
Skylar shakes his head and gathers up what was once Quicksilver. He trudges back home.
“What a day, I’m beat.” Tired from a long day of chaos, Skylar tosses Quicksilver’s parts into the garage next to Commodore and goes into the house.
Commodore beheld this sight “OH NO, WHAT HAPPENED?!”
“I just wanted to go fast but Skylar wanted me to do things that I didn’t want to do. Like hop over a garden or somersault in the air or even jump high up” said a weary Quicksilver.
“I wasn’t meant to do that” Quicksilver said.
“But those are some of the best things and most exciting things to do” replied Commodore.
“Not for me it isn’t” said Quicksilver, “my biking days are through, I had enough excitement for one day.”
The next day came and Skylar appeared in the garage with his sack of newspapers. He took a moment to look at what was left of Quicksilver.
“Man, I only had you for a day and now you’re all busted and broken. I could go fast with you but I don’t know why I couldn’t do anything else. Where’s the fun in that?!”
Skylar then took a long hard look at Commodore. “I had you for years and years and was able to do a lot of tricks. You made my paper route fun. I knew what I could do with you, guess I should’ve stuck with you all along. I’ll never make that same mistake again.”
And with that, Skylar and Commodore ventured out of the garage ready to perform their acrobatic routine for the neighbors once again.
Midlife, Maniacal & Me 