One of the coolest things about all art is the interpretation. Debates go endlessly about movies, books, paintings, poems, sculptures. And who’s to say who’s right and who’s not when we can’t even agree what’s art and what isn’t.

In trying to get feedback on my book, I’ve been giving out copies to my friends and family to get initial reactions, both kneejerk and constructive. I had readers who are fans and non-fans of fantasy, which is my genre.

One of my readers stated that my main character was highly sexual and emotional. I wanted honest opinions and here we are!

My kneejerk reaction was of course to defend.

But I’m here to learn so I asked her question after question, trying to keep an open mind.

None of my other readers had mentioned any of this. And just in case they missed something my friend hadn’t, I asked one of them specifically about the above points.

Highly sexual was something that really surprised me. I asked her what made her think this. She said that my hero thought about his wife’s scent, was enamored by her silky hair, and in a key scene couldn’t sleep due to the absence of her breathing next to him. I asked another female reader what she thought about this without mentioning what my friend thought. She said my hero was in love with his wife that it was about love.

Who’s correct?

Both.

There’s a saying. What you hate in others is what you hate in yourself. When I look at the lives of these two women, I can see why both thought the way they did.

I’m not saying they hated my book, but often what we see in art is often a reflection of us, an aspect anyway. I mean, haven’t you listened to music that reflects how you feel in the moment? We listen to love songs, or angry alternative, when we’ve broken up with someone. Or listen to ambient music when we want to be calm. Or listen to heavy metal or techno when we’re working out.

And knowing how 50% of sold books are romance novels tells you what women are feeling or needing.

My friend’s second point, complaint really, about my hero being emotional was also interesting.  For one, he is.  It being a complaint is a judgement on the character. Kinda like saying someone being short is not good. It’s not their fault.  My hero just turned out that way.

This brings us to the definition of art. First off, I don’t think it can be defined. It’s like defining the soul. Or God. You can’t. But a famed photographer once said that art is the language of the soul. Isn’t that where inspiration comes from?

But if you want to see a cool and heated debate of what art is, check out an articleRober Ebertwrote about how video games aren’t art.

 Loading ...

I just saw Fame, the 2009 version.  I never saw Fame, the 1980 version.  I should since it won two Oscars.  And I’m not one of those people who watches only Oscar winners, but the 2009 version got bad reviews.  And I know why.

In the 2009 version, we have a cross section of characters that are admitted to Performance Arts High School.  Clever name.  In this cross section, we have freshmen who deal with issues with shyness, self worth, preconceived ideas from parental figures, grades that lead to being expelled, and people in the industry who’ve scammed money.

This seems like a lot but a lot of stories have this many sub plots that help drive the main story line.  Problem here is I’m not sure what the main story line is, and these play like sub plots with no main plot.  You could also say they are all main plots but that would be too many.

The second problem is we move from admission to graduation in a period of 107 minutes.  I’m not saying this can’t be done, but when you have many sub plots with no main plot, or a whole bouquet of main plots, it’s going to be difficult to develop these characters.  Hell!  It’d be difficult with just a single character.  Again, it can be done, but you better be one helluva screenwriter.  The issue here is no character development.  Here’s an example:

There’s a character named Malik who runs into the problem of parental limitation.  His mom says he ain’t all that.  Not in those exact words, but it’s a good problem.  We’ve all at some level–friends or family–have been told we ain’t all dat.  Is any of it true?  Of course not.  But the movie doesn’t show Malik overcoming that issue, finding that he’s special, then realizing he is truly talented.

What if he wasn’t?  The movie doesn’t show that either.

So is the message of the movie saying that none of us are special (not in the yellow bus way)?  No because the movie is called Fame.

So what’s the message?  Not quite sure.

Throughout the whole movie we get performances that are well choreographed.  There must have been a dozen.  To take up 107 minutes with that many performances ruins the pacing and doesn’t spend enough moments on what is truly important, the story.  It’s like having a ton of special effects with no substance.

We go from admission to graduation, and, in doing so, the characters who are faced with character arc problems either don’t solve them, or we don’t see them solved, or are not solved.  One ballet dancer is told he won’t make it by his teacher, told that he might be a decent teacher.  He believes her, submitting to becoming a ballet teacher.  So does the teacher see herself as a failure?  Then why is she teaching?  As the term character arc states, there’s an arc.  We basically go from beginning, miss the keystone moment and BAM!  We’ve arrive at the end.  And we’re not sure why.

There’s only two ways to Kick Ass, the movie.  The high road.  Or the low road.

Let’s take the high road since that’s gonna be short and not so sweet.  Having an 11 year-old girl kill endless mob men with red hot knife through butter ease is horrific, gruesome, grotesque, highly unnecessary, and just freakin’ stupid.  Something like this would never happen in real life.  Her acrobatics makes Jackie Chan look like a first grader.

Well…that wasn’t all that fun.

When I see a movie with the word “Kick Ass” as it’s title, I have a slight feeling, an inkling that this movie isn’t going to delve into the meaning of life.  That’s what my woman’s intuition is telling me.  This movie is about escaping the real world, whatever that may be for you, and having fun.  It’s pure fun.  It’s entertaining.  And the writing is pretty damn good.

One of the screenwriters was Jane Goldman who took the screenwriting class fromDavid Freeman.And one of the main things he emphasizes is surprises, to not write cliches.  So one of the things I expected was Kick-Ass, played by Aaron Johnson, to literally kick ass.  But like any real person who tries to fight bad dudes who has no fighting skill, no athletic ability, no fitness of any kind will get their ass kicked.  And that surprised me.  He didn’t get bit by no spider and, bam, he has super powers.

I also didn’t expect an 11 year-old girl, aptly named Hit Girl, to literally kick ass.  And she did.  It was also nice to see that she wasn’t written to have any kind of remorse.  Nor did the movie explain why.  It didn’t need to.  It would have taken away from the comedic carnage that she commits.  She’s a highly trained killer who could probably take on many Jackie Chans.  Chloe Moretz’s presence slid off the screen.  I think she made the part and even stole the show.

Another thing that was cool was Nicholas Cage, playing the role of Big Daddy.  His whole thing is vengeance.  But he teaches his daughter how to kill through love and adoration as if he was teaching her how to paint a Monet.  He doesn’t teach her with anger, to punish those who took away his love.  And that’s different.

I had seen several critics take the high road.  And I’m thinking, “Are you serious?”  Apparently, yes.

When the main character is named Kick-Ass, aided by Hit Girl and Big Daddy, and the kid who made McLovin from Hawaii famous plays one of the bad guys called Red Mist, you can’t take this movie too serious.  Or else you won’t have fun.

A fellow writer and I were talking about flash backs.  Flash backs takes us back to a time before the current moment of the story, be it novel, TV show, film, etc.  And, as this zombie dog growls, there’s a guideline in storytelling that states don’t use them.

The reason is simple.  The threat of death to the character having the flashback is removed.  Makes sense. Makes even more sense when the reader/audience is supposed to be connected to the main character, the heroine.  We see a lot of supporting characters die.  Rarely do we see the main character die before the climax.

Then the hero can die.  Otherwise, who will finish the story?

The problem is exacerbated when we’re reading a series, watching Showtime’s Dexter (I watched four seasons knowing Dexter wasn’t gonna die), or a movie franchise.

But can flashbacks work?  Yes.  Here are some examples:

Pulp Fiction

Memento

Slumdog Millionaire

Pulp Fiction shows pieces of the story out of order.  And we don’t know who to really support or connect to until the pieces start to fall together like when loyalties form between enemies Butch Coolidge, Bruce Willis, and Marsellus Wallace, Ving Rhames.  Where before we were rooting for Butch to get outta there before Marsellus Wallace gets to his ass.  Then a cop has Marsellus Wallace’s ass, literally, after being kidnapped.  Butch is about to escape but decides to save Marsellus Wallace’s ass, literally.  And at the end of that scene, we feel for both characters.

Memento directed by Jonathan Nolan, Batman Begins and The Dark Knight, was critically acclaimed and has a cult following.  Basically, it shows the movie from end to beginning because the main character has short term memory loss.  A piece of genus.  Here, the end scene shows someone shot, but we don’t know who.  And as we watch the story barrel to the beginning, we’re in anticipation of who died and what happened.

I loved Slumdog Millionaire.  Talk about a sleeper hit!  Most of the movie depends on flashbacks.  But the goal is to figure out whether Jamal Malik, played by Dav Patel, was cheating.  As we go along for the ride, tension rises because of the things that happen to Jamal, and whether the supporting characters will live.  Some do.  Some don’t.

So do flashbacks work?  Hell yeah.

Just as long it serves the story.

Do you know any other movies, shows, or books that depend on flashbacks?  How about any movies, shows, or books that have the main character die before the climax?

Onions.  They give you bad breath but adds flavor to the food we eat.  Have you ever peeled one?  Peel the rough skin and reveal a fresh moist layer.  Peel that and there’s another silky layer.  On and on.

In writing my book, I purposefully laid in layers to give it a sense of depth.  On the surface, it’s a fast-paced, action packed, page turner (damn, I’m conceited).  There’s sex.  There’s mayhem.  Want betrayal?  You got it.  Want love?  You got it.

Slice under that superficial layer and you’ll find a deeper understanding of the story.  Billowing clouds may reflect a character’s painful conflict within.  Heat from a fire reflecting off someone’s clothes may echo the character’s anger.  Wind may symbolize a character’s dominance over their lands.

In 1954 a renowned filmmaker released what’s considered one of the best films ever made:  Seven Samurai.  It’s about a Japanese farming village, constantly beseiged and pillaged by an army of bandits, recruits seven independent samurai to defend it.

Akira Kurosawa’s films have influenced great directors such as Steven Spielberg and George Lucas.  In fact, Star Wars was heavily influenced by The Hidden Fortress, a Kurosawa film.

I have to admit, when I watched Seven Samurai, I was like, “What da hell?”

I was caught off guard by the soundtrack, pacing and language (despite my slanty eyes, I don’t speak Japanese).  I did drag myself through the length of the film, all three hours and forty-five minutes.

Luckily, I had bought The Criterion Collection of the film.  There are tons of lectures on the DVD discs, and I listened to all of them, wanting to learn everything I could.  What I learned had a profound effect on me and my writing.  Or is it my writing and I?

Consolidating Kurosawa’s genius would be difficult and insulting.  But here I go.  He controlled everything because everything in his films had a purpose, a reason.  Every word, action, shadow, even the swipe or fading to the next scene meant something.  If someone broke wind, there was a purpose.  Unless it was silent but deadly.

The most interesting character is Kikuchiyo, played by Toshiro Mifune.  He doesn’t exactly look like a samurai, nor does he walk like one.  So is he a samurai?  He lugs his extra long sword on his shoulder instead of holstering it around his waist like the other six.  What does this say about Kikuchiyo?  Is he compensating for something?  Or is there a deeper story within the character?

In his dramatic scene, Kikuchiyo admits he was once a villager and somehow found his way to samuraism. (Is that even a word?)  This didn’t happen in those days of Japan.  It was difficult enough to move up the ranks of the samurai.  And admitting you were once a villager was like admitting you’re a woman, when you’re really a man, but without the operation.

The lectures in the special features stated Kikuchiyo symbolized the filmmaker, Kurosawa.  His views were somehow reminiscent of Kikuchiyo and his rise in society and that Japan had moved into the modern era.  This is further symbolized when each samurai is killed by a modern weapon:  the gun.  Once the villagers were saved, they continued their lives giving any thought to their saviors.  We see the surviving samurai walk from the cemetery where their comrades were buried and out to the horizon, never to return.

I rewatched the film many times, and I grew to love it. The story density is amazing.

It’s interesting to see how we clamor to the magazine stands to find out the latest on celebrities.  What atrocities have they committed?  But if we were truly curious about who they were, all we’d have to do is turn to their art.

For art is the language of the soul.

Happy New Year!

In the midst of the many New Year resolutions, one of the things that writers seem not to do is polish their writing.  And before you unleash hell on my posts, I’m talking about query letters and manuscripts.

Would you like to buy a paper cut?

I’ve been painstakingly researching agents.  And it seems their main complaint about query letters is proof reading.  I didn’t believe it at first.  Why would writers proof read their manuscript and not a single page letter?  But as I read agents’ blogs and interviews, this was among one of the top reasons for rejection.

This brought to mind one of the things I took away from anagent panel. Polish your manuscript.  The agents will wait.  And they will.

I had sent my manuscript to an independent editor.  His claim to fame was being the first editor for Stephen King.  When I got my manuscript back, I had noticed some common follies I’d made.  Here’s the list:

• Towards, Upwards, Downwards, Backwards, etc
  • Eliminate the ’s’
• Way
  • Is way necessary?
  • “He backed away into the table” vs. “He backed into the table.”
• It’s vs. Its (It is vs. Its)
  • I knew this, but was unconsciously mixing both up.  This is pretty common apparently.
• , and then
  • According to the editor, it’s good style to eliminate the word ‘and’ when using this word combination.  But I’ve seen it used by best selling authors, which many writers know can get away with stuff new writers can’t.
• Very
  • I knew not to use this much, but the editor made a good point.  Who’s angrier?  Jonny’s angry.  But Jenny’s very angry.
• Jumping up, Stretched out, Stood up, Spread out
  • The editor strongly suggested with his thick red marker that words such as “up” and “out” usually aren’t necessary.  The difference between jumping up and jumping is just an extra word.
  • What I did in Microsoft Word was search the words “up” and “out” and looked at the context.  Did the meaning differ if I removed those words?  If not, then I send them to word limbo.  Otherwise I kept them.
  • If I described a motion other than the obvious, such as “jumping forward”, then I use forward.  So context is going to be important when eliminating “up” or “out”.
• Amongst
  • The editor didn’t like this word and asked me to use “among” instead.
• Further vs. farther
  • Farther usually refers to distance.  “Let’s walk farther in.”
    • First three letters is F A R, which is far.  A good way to remember the difference.
  • Further usually refers to a greater extent.  “I don’t want to discuss this further.”
• Forward vs. Foreword
  • Forward is movement.
  • Foreword is an introductory statement to a piece of written work.
• That vs. Who
  • Use who when referring to a human.  “The man who slapped himself.”
  • Use that when referring to a non-human.  “The car that slapped itself.”
• Everyday vs. Every Day
  • The word “everyday” usually refers to a common occurrence.  Like an everyday routine.
  • The words “every day” means each concurrent day.
• Passed vs. Past
  • Passed is a verb.  “I passed the car.”
  • Past refers to an earlier time or movement.  “I drove past a car.”  “It’s ten past twelve.”
• Almost
  • I was instructed to use almost sparingly.  Is the use direct versus indirect?
  • “I was hungry enough to eat a rock”
  • “I was so hungry I could almost eat a rock”
  • The first sentence is direct, sounds better, and communicates the feeling well.
• Can we really get rid of “really”?
  • The editor strongly suggested with his red marker to eliminate “really”.  He suggested to read the sentence with and without the word and see if the meaning changes.  If it doesn’t, terminate it.
• Scratch vs. Itch
  • Scratch is a verb.  “I scratched my arm.”
  • Itch refers to a feeling.  “My arm itched.”
• Unnecessary Words:
  • “He nodded” is better than “He nodded his head.”
  • “She blinked” is better than “She blinked her floppy eyelids.”
  • “Frank shrugged” is better than “Frank shrugged his broad shoulders up and down.”
• Words to look out for:
  • Lightning (when the Gods are angry) vs. Lightening (when we go on a diet that works!)
  • Wave (raise your hands in the air and wave them like you don’t care) vs. Waive (your rights)
  • “Alongside” is correct.  “Along side” is not.
  • “Throughout” is correct.  “Through out” is not.
  • They’re vs. their vs. there
  • Pick vs. Peak vs. Pique
  • Then vs. Than
  • Sole vs. Soul
  • Slight vs. Sleight
  • Site vs. Sight
• I also did a word search for “ly” and eliminated as many adverbs.  Adverbs really are not necessarily good, given that they really don’t add any extraordinarily deep meaning.  Really.

This is by no means a complete list any of you, including myself, should go by.  Please add your own in the comments, so we can all learn.

“What has been is what will be, and what has been done is what will be done; there is nothing new under the sun.”

Ever heard this?

As a storyteller, this can be a very limiting view.  Or is it?

William Shakespeare’s version of Twilight

A prominent screenwriter in Hollywood, David Freeman, gave a seminar.  There are hundreds of seminars I could have attended, but why did I go to his?  If you go to his site, he talks about techniques in writing.  No theories.  In fact, he gave so many techniques, it was like getting a trunk full of tools.  And in any one job, it’s highly unlikely you’ll use all of them, but you’ll definitely use enough to make your story emotional, something he emphasizes a lot.

He agreed with the quote above, but in a very un-limiting way.

I love going to movies, and one of the pleasures is seeing the previews.  I hate missing the previews like I hate missing the beginning of any movie.  One movie I’m anticipating is Avatar.

When I first saw it, I thought, James Cameron stole my idea!  WTF Cameron?  How’d you hack into my PC?

As I watched the preview, his premise was different.  Similar but different.

Then an image sparked in my mind.  American Indians gazing out into the sea as English ships sailed toward them.

The story of the Native American Indians against pioneering pilgrims is a familiar one.  It’s empire building.  The conflict?  The natives don’t want to leave.

Look at Braveheart.  I love that movie.  It’s the same thing.

Look at the battle of Thermopile, 300.

Look at the Mongols invading China.

Look at China’s history of the seven independent states warring against each other for power.

Look at Star Wars.

Look at King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table.

We have tons of stories based on the idea of oppression.  Sometimes the story ends with unification, like China and the seven states.  Sometimes we have stories of independence, like William Wallace’s fight for Scotland’s freedom.  But they all stem from a single idea.

Avatar is no different.  A powerful force, in this case us in the far future, wants something, a valuable mineral.  To mine it, we have to “politically” move a native race.  Easy enough.  But wait!  The native people don’t wanna move.

And the story begins.

Freeman said there were an unlimited amount of stories that could be told using the story computer.  Look at any story that you love or connect to.  Find a variation.

Turn the hero into a heroin.

Change the race.

Change the time.

Change the setting.

Change anything.

Look at Romeo and Juliet.  Change the time to the present.  Make the male a brooding, James Dean-looking vampire.  Now you have Twilight.

The Princess and the Frog is a great example.  What do we expect to happen when the princess kisses the frog?  The frog should turn to her prince.  But Disney was like, “Hell no. Dat’s been dun.  Da princess should turn to a frog, sucka!”

OK.  I doubt Disney execs would talk like that.  But they used the story computer to churn out what seems like a great story.

The Seven Provinces is a familiar story.  It’s about empire building.  It’s an underdog story.  It’s about a man trying to protect his family in a time of war.  It’s about oppression, betrayal, tragedy.  And much more.

There may be nothing new under the sun.  But that doesn’t mean new stories can’t be told using familiar themes.

Old fashioned martial arts schools are behind the times.

Recently in the past few weeks, people have asked why I think martial arts schools are behind the times.  Why I referred to the school I used to attend as crap in mybio.

Bruce Lee said it best:  ”Learn the principle, abide by the principle, and dissolve the principle. In short, enter a mold without being caged in it. Obey the principle without being bound by it.”

In earning my kinesiology degree, I learned something about human movement that not only undermined years of martial arts practice, but destroyed the basis of most martial art foundations.

Most schools teach by practicing patterns of movement.  There’s nothing wrong with this, but eventually people need to move past this mode of learning.

I remember learning how to write, doing lessons in workbooks.  One of them required me to follow dotted lines for each of the letters of the alphabet.  Once we graduated from that simple lesson, our class moved to copying simple sentences my teacher wrote on the blackboard.  Then she wrote simple paragraphs that we copied into our notebooks.  The paragraphs we copied got longer.  As we moved up the elementary school echelon, we were taught the structures of the three paragraph essay, then the five paragraph essay.  We were given subjects to write about and we wrote.  And so on and so forth.

Now, imagine teenagers in high school, or students in college being given homework, copying dotted letters of the alphabet.  That is what you have in the traditional martial arts school.

Have you seen old English calligraphy?  All those swirls, extra lines, and decorations?  How inefficient would that be in everyday writing?  A lot of that is in traditional martial arts, as well.

In our particular school, we always made fun of Tae Kwan Do students.  They limited themselves to kicking, and when sparring they didn’t allow striking to the head.  But one thing they did a lot was sparring.  Sparring is the key to truly learning anything.

Kinesiology taught me that people need to be in dynamic environments if they are to perform in dynamic environments.  If I taught you a martial arts technique to deal with a right punch, and I drilled that technique over and over again, all you would’ve learned was the technique.  What you wouldn’t know how to do is react to the right punch.  To do that, you can’t be told that a right punch is coming.  And sparring gives you that opportunity.

Yes, learn the technique.  Yes, practice the technique.  Then forget it.

The above quote by Bruce states exactly how I live my life.

When I first attempted my first three novels, I had no idea what I was doing.  Then my best friend suggested many sources that spoke on the structure and techniques of fiction writing.  I read them, attended seminars and learned so much.  But those lessons didn’t sink in until I sat down and wrote.  By the end of my many revisions and writing myepisodes,I had to go back and do one last revision/rewrite.  I’d changed so much as a writer that I had to do a line by line examination of my manuscript.

I didn’t want to at first.  I knew it would take a long time.  But once I dug in, I became more intimately engrossed with my story.  And something happened that was unexpected.  I fell in love with my story again.

I also realized that I’d broken some rules of writing.  I didn’t do it on purpose.  That’s just the way the story needed to be told.

Bruce Lee said:  ”Using no way as way, having no limitation as limitation.”  That has definitely worked out for him.

In my last post I wrote about catching up with a friend I hadn’t really talked to for over a decade. And we talked for the whole day. Surprisingly, most of that time was talking about our passion, writing. We were trading query letters and synopsis, and he asked me about the main character of my book.

Everyone in my book hates my hero.

Why?

He’s sending tens of thousands of sons and daughters, fathers and mothers to a war that seems pointless.

Sound familiar?

However, there is a legitimate reason for this war, this war in my book.  But everyone doesn’t see it, and they exact their negative opinions.

Isolating the main character is important to create empathy for my hero.  One of hundreds of techniques used to create an emotional bond between reader and hero. The reader has a superior view of the whole story.  The reader knows the truth behind the necessity of this particular war.  So they’ll root for him.

One of my favorite shows that has ended was Jon and Kate Plus Eight.  I tell my friends that I’m an avid watcher of the show.  And I don’t watch that much TV, let alone reality TV.  But I found the kids endearing, the parent’s relationship real, cause it was, and was pulled into their family dynamic.

If you’re a fan of the show, then you know the drama that has gone on between the parents and TLC.  TLC being the network that put on the show.

The thing that saddens me are the opinions, tabloids, and hate that had been shown to all parties.  I know one thing that’s true.  Opinions are like assholes.  Everyone has them.  And they smell like ass.

No one on the outside knows really what’s going on between Jon and Kate, Jon and TLC, Kate and TLC, TLC and TLC.  The amount of crap that portrays itself as truth is so negative that I wonder why we are so engaged with it.  Is it because misery loves company?  Maybe.  Is it because we hate it when people gain a certain amount of fame and fortune?  Maybe.

Why can’t we just let them be, let them handle their issues, and live our lives?  I mean, do people not have enough of their own problems that they have to take on others, too?

A couple of weeks ago I’d met up with a friend I hadn’t talked to for over a decade. He used to be an instructor at the martial arts school I’d taught at. Read about my opinions about that in my bio.

We’re both writers and we’d talked about writing the story that calls to us. With all the vampiric stories that are being churned both in the publishing and film industry, I don’t blame people for jumping on the band wagon.  But the point of being an artist is to express your soul.  And if your soul says write a vampire story, then write a vampire story.

When it comes to finding out what you want to do with your life, what story should be written, what path you should take, you need to be honest with yourself.  How do you be honest with yourself?

First of all, are you honest with other people? I’m not talking about being a saint, never telling lies, never doing anything wrong. Were human. But do you care about what other people say about you? Do care about what other people think about you? Do you put all your stock in your status in life?

Why is this important?

Because any of this, namely your ego, can block your true self.  You become motivated by the things that seem important–the size of your house, the German car in your massive garage, the name brand clothes you wear, the title of your job, bottled water.  Do these things matter?  That’s for you to decide.  Do they matter when it comes toexpressing yourself honestly? No.

When I went to the San Francisco Writers Conference, Richard Paul Evans, one of the keynote speakers said something that really hit home. Especially since he’s a New York Times bestselling author.  He said write your truth.  Don’t hop on the bandwagon. Don’t be a follower.  Lead by leading.

Bruce Lee said the same thing. Honestly express yourself.

Look at the things that you’re drawn to.  Do you love music?  Any particular kind?  Try that out.  Do you love software programming?  Try that out.  Do you love selling?  If you have an affinity for houses, maybe you should be a real estate agent.  Or if you love helping people get healthier, maybe you should try physical therapy, personal training, nursing.

Is there a common theme that runs throughout your life?

For me, I’ve always loved stories.  And I always loved fantasizing, putting myself in action movie roles, imagining what it would be like to be betrayed by a close friend, finding myself in a fantasy land where I’m a warlord.  Since my sophomore year, I’ve tried to write novels.  But when it came to deciding a major in college, I never thought of majoring in English or creative writing.  Why?  I’m not sure.  Maybe the things I had to go through as a person lent itself to writing the series of novels that I’m writing now.

I’m not angry about it.  Nor do I judge it.  I realize that I have stories to be told, and I’m telling them.