Embracing Change

I am not a full time writer. I write every morning and sometimes in the evenings. I have a day job. It's a stressful job. It pays well and I make a nice living.  My job demands a lot of me and I have to deliver or I won't have it.

I have a mortgage, a car payment and two kids in private school. I am not a popular enough writer yet to support all that. So, I work.

I just started working from home. Same job, same responsibility, same goals. No suit and tie! Life is good.

I've always written at home. I have a small desk in my bedroom. I wake up early and get to work. In the old days, I worked until it was time to shower and shave and head to the office. Now, I write, then I walk my new puppy. I come back, shower, maybe shave, and I get to work... in a different room in my house.

It's important to separate my creative life from my commercial life. I don't like to think about writing when I'm doing anything else, and I don't want to think of other things during my writing time. I get better results this way. The point is that you should compartmentalize. You'll get better results.



Adolfo Jimenez is an author, poet, and blogger. He lives in Hollywood, Florida with his family.  He has published eight books, which you can find here. 

<script data-ad-client="ca-pub-8729603388037550" async src="https://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/js/adsbygoogle.js"></script>

The Business Part 4

This is the fourth part of a series on the business of writing. Click here to go to Part One.


I am not a full-time writer. I have a career and I own a business. All things being equal, though, I'd rather earn my living as a writer. What I am is prolific. I am a very productive writer. I put words to paper (or processor) every day of the week. Sometimes, they're good, sometimes they suck. The important thing is to do the things that must be done.


A DAY IN THE LIFE

Monday through Friday: I am usually awake by 5:00AM. This is not to say I am always out of bed by that time. My wife usually wakes up a little later. She and the girls are out the door by 6:30. I usually start working by 5:30, pausing to say goodbye to the family and make coffee. I usually put in anywhere from 1-3 hours of work in every weekday morning. I then shower and shave and go to work. I try not to think too much about what I'm working on when I'm not actually working on it but sometimes an idea pops in my head. When this happens, I usually write it down.

I sometimes have creative bursts throughout the day. I carry a pen and pad around for just such an occasion. If not, my iPhone has a nifty little notepad feature.

I rarely work on my main project at night. This time is usually reserved for reading, sleeping, and the making of the love.

I dedicate some time to social media but I am no expert. I am trying to learn how to promote myself. Once I master this, all bets are off.

See, writing is the hard part, because it is lonely and exhausting. When I tell people I write but don't make significant money from it (yet) they ask me why I bother. The truth is I do it for me. I do it because I love it. When it eventually becomes my living, all the better.

Follow me on this journey. It ought to be fun.



Adolfo Jimenez is an author, poet, and blogger. He lives in Hollywood, Florida with his family.  He has published eight books, which you can check out here. 

<script data-ad-client="ca-pub-8729603388037550" async src="https://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/js/adsbygoogle.js"></script>

Who matters as much as Why - A Quickie Post.

Why are you writing?

Who are you writing for?

If you are writing for anyone other than yourself, you are writing for the wrong reason. You are the only person who will definitely read every word you write, so make sure they are words you love and can be proud of? Or, at the very least, make sure they are words you can live with.


Adolfo Jimenez is an author, poet, and blogger. He lives in Hollywood, Florida with his family.  He has published eight books, which can be seen here. 

<script data-ad-client="ca-pub-8729603388037550" async src="https://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/js/adsbygoogle.js"></script>

The Business Part 3

This is the third part of a series on the business of writing. Click here to go to Part One.


Too many wannabe writers are in love with the idea of being known as a writer. They are not in love with the lonely drudgery of writing. Singers and actors get on stage and are cheered and adored, or jeered and booed. But at least they are known. When Andy Warhol promised those fifteen minutes of fame, he excluded most writers.

My point is that you have to write if you want to be a writer. You have to put out a page a day. I don't care if it's a good page. Ernest Hemingway said the first draft of anything is shit. He was right. Sometimes it's better quality shit than other times, but it's still shit.

So you sit down and write a page a day. You do this for 200 days. You have a first draft. Guess what? It's shit! Let it go for a while. Put it out of your mind. Think of other things. Get drunk. Get stoned. Get laid. Definitely get laid if possible.

After you've done other things and taken your mind off the work, come back to it with fresh eyes. It's time to write. Remember that words are cheap. A word means little by itself. It's when we put it in the right place with other words that it starts to mean something. What I mean to tell you is that you shouldn't be afraid to delete a word. Or a sentence. Or a paragraph. Or even an entire chapter. Don't be afraid to replace words or move them around. Ditto sentences and paragraphs. Nothing is  sacred. Don't be a little pussy. Just edit it.

So it's been a year since you started this book. You've done your first re-write. Are you ready to send it to the publisher? Hell no. Put it away. Get drunk. Get stoned. Get laid. The manuscript ain't going nowhere.

Come back to it a couple of weeks or even a month or two later. Rewrite it again. Be ruthless. Words mean nothing until they are put in the right order.

Adolfo Jimenez is an author, poet, and blogger. He lives in Hollywood, Florida. He has published eight books, which you can find here.

<script data-ad-client="ca-pub-8729603388037550" async src="https://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/js/adsbygoogle.js"></script>

The Business Part 2

If you'd like to read the first part of this blog series, click here.


I was talking about the difference or the contrast between writing and the business of writing. I am not good at the business side of writing. I know I can be and I have no doubt I will be, but at the moment, I suck at it.

I suck at it because I haven't learned how to do it. Once I learn it, look out world!

I have earned my living for the past several years in sales. I know how to sell. I make a fine living at it. I have just always found it easier to sell things, than it is to sell myself.

I wake up very early every morning. Usually before five AM. I start writing around six AM. Writing is the only thing I've ever been disciplined about.

I mention that because if you don't have the discipline to write, you're wasting your time reading this. Be gone!

I should also mention that this is being written for those who wish to go the self-publishing route.  If you are hoping to be published by a big house and they are going to throw big money into promoting your books, you are dismissed. I don't want you laughing at me. Be gone!

I submitted my work to agents and publishers many years ago and then stopped. I wrote for myself and never shared a word. Now, I'm back and I want to do it myself. Wish me luck!

Before you try to sell your writing, make sure you have something to sell. I stalk Facebook and Reddit "writer" groups where people spend a lot of time asking questions like, "What should I name my character?" and other nonsense. I have news for you: if you don't know what to name your character, which should be the easiest part of the process, there is nothing on any social media group that will help you. You are dismissed, follow the best sellers.

If you have written the book and it is ready for release into the wild, read on...

Adolfo Jimenez is an author, poet, and blogger. He lives in Hollywood, Florida. He has published eight books, which you can find here.

<script data-ad-client="ca-pub-8729603388037550" async src="https://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/js/adsbygoogle.js"></script>

The Business

This is a confession.

Too late. You're here now. You must listen to my tale of woe. To do otherwise, to turn away, would be indecent. You are a decent person... aren't you?

There are two sides to being a writer. There is the hard part, which is the actual writing. Then there is the harder part, which is selling yourself. I like sharing my experiences. I really do. What I don't like is the business of selling those experiences once they are bound in a book or put in an e-book.

Don't get me wrong, I want to sell the books. I want to sell millions of copies of my books. In my other life,  I sell for a living. I understand the science and the art of sales. I've just never learned how to sell myself and my creations, and that is exactly what selling books is. It is an author selling bits of himself.

Every story I've written is personal, even if not autobiographical. They came from inside of me. It's easier to write about these things than it is to talk about them.

So, I've spent the greater part of the weekend, studying and creating a marketing plan. I am all over social media and I am compiling a list of independent bookstores and book clubs that I will be visiting. If you're reading this, and I am ever in your neighborhood, please stop by and say hello.

I think I may continue the theme I've started here. It ought to be fun. Who knows? I may end up not hating the business of selling my writing after all!

Adolfo Jimenez is an author, poet, and blogger. He lives in Hollywood, Florida. He has published eight books, which you can find here.

<script data-ad-client="ca-pub-8729603388037550" async src="https://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/js/adsbygoogle.js"></script>

Dogs Matter

My dog Baxter, who was the most bestest goodest good boy ever, died about six months ago. He'd been with us most of his life and we got to enjoy his yodeling (he didn't really bark) for 12 years.  I am not one to say that dogs are equal to kids, but I understand why people fall in love with them. Losing Baxter was a very painful experience. I sat up with him all night and held him when he took his last breath. I hope I was some comfort to him. He was my best friend.

I decided that I didn't want another dog. Too much heartache. Then Fred came along. Or are we naming him Gus? Or Max? Not sure. He is sort of a Chihuahua, a breed of which I am not a fan. I have a very personal Chihuahua trauma that I may choose to write about someday. Today is not the day.

He's a cute guy. He spent the day with us yesterday and he's sweet and a little territorial. My daughter and I found him and took him in. We walked him around looking for his owner and found nothing.  Our neighbor posted an ad. No answer yet. It's only been a day, but it's looking kinda permanent. He is sitting on the floor next to me as I write. He is a distraction. I am easily distracted.

Dogs are calming forces in your life. So are cats and goldfish. Dogs especially love us. They look up to us and make us feel good about ourselves. If Gus (or Fred or Max) sticks around, I will be reading my work to him. I will be able to take pride in knowing that I have a number one, super-loyal fan, who looks up to me. That's a win in this dog's life.


Adolfo Jimenez is an author, poet, blogger, and bank robber living in Hollywood, Florida with his wife, his daughters, two guinea pigs, a cockatiel, and now Fred or Gus, the Chihuahua-ish dog.

He has published eight books, which you can find here.

<script data-ad-client="ca-pub-8729603388037550" async src="https://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/js/adsbygoogle.js"></script>

Is It Worth It?

What an odd question? Is it worth it? Without knowing what it is or what the other it is, the answer must be yes, it is worth it.

When you wake up in the morning, as I do, and sit at your desk and write, pouring your heart and soul and mind onto the page or into the word processor, you are not doing it for anyone else. You are doing it for yourself. Why? Because the words you write may never reach another soul. Sometimes you erase them. Other times you decide to let them die of neglect. Some make it, some don't.

There's also the risk of rejection. What if no one likes what you wrote? Is there anything worse? Of course there is. But for the purposes of this discussion, we'll pretend there is nothing worse than someone not liking your work. So what can you do?

Simple. Just keep doing it. Do it and do it again. And when you're done doing it, you guessed it, do it some more!

It's worth it. Not because people want to read your work and not because it can make you rich and famous. It's worth it for its own sake. There can be no other reason. Any other reason is wrong. Do it because it was what you were born to do.

If that's not reason enough, you're in the wrong business.

Adolfo Jimenez is an author, poet, and blogger. He lives in Hollywood, Florida. He has published eight books, which you can find here.

<script data-ad-client="ca-pub-8729603388037550" async src="https://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/js/adsbygoogle.js"></script>

A Little Self-Promotion

The cover of my latest book.

I like to write about writing. I'm not proud of it, but I do enjoy it. I won't try to pad this post since the title tells you exactly what it is. I won't insult you by pretending this is about anything other than selling a book. 

I just published Dogs, Drinks, Women and Me, a short story collection. Please go out and buy it. If you don't I will be forced to continue working for a living. Not that writing isn't work. It's the hardest work I've ever done. It's also my favorite thing to do.

It's available as an e-book and as a paperback. Just in time for Christmas, hint hint!

Thanks for your support, and keep writing. Oh, and keep reading, especially my stuff.

Thanks!

Adolfo

Adolfo Jimenez is an author, poet, and blogger. He lives in Hollywood, Florida. He has published eight books, which you can find here.

<script data-ad-client="ca-pub-8729603388037550" async src="https://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/js/adsbygoogle.js"></script>

Your Audience

I write every day. Writing is a lonely life. I start work about five o'clock most mornings. Sometimes, I start a little later, waiting until my wife and daughters are gone. I usually do very little on Saturdays for some reason and on Sundays, I review, edit, and write.  This is not a strict schedule. It's something I try to stick to. I have a day job and this is always in the back of my mind so I work with a very specific sense of urgency. I have to shower and shave and get to the office. I have only so many hours to invest in writing each morning.

So, it's a lonely life and of course, I am the worst audience. I am the most biased of judges when it comes to my work. I hate every word of it.

But every once in a while, I read some of my work to my wife, or to my guinea pigs or to myself, and I am pleased with myself. I am reminded of why I take the time to do this. I remember why the isolation and the frustration never seem to be enough to scare me away. I remember why I write.

Adolfo Jimenez is an author, poet, and blogger. He lives in Hollywood, Florida. He has published eight books, which you can find here.

<script data-ad-client="ca-pub-8729603388037550" async src="https://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/js/adsbygoogle.js"></script>

<script data-ad-client="ca-pub-8729603388037550" async src="https://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/js/adsbygoogle.js"></script>

Change of Scene

Last night, I stayed out until past midnight. Wild, I know. I am a madman. Am I really? As Salvador Dali said, "The only difference between a madman and myself, is that I am not mad!" Well, he said something like that.  A friend of mine moved into a new apartment and had a little housewarming party and invited some colleagues over for dinner and wine. I had a little of each. We talked shop, of course because this is what humans do. Humans suck, don't they.

All but two of the people who were there were people I am around over fifty hours per week. We talked about what we do those fifty-plus hours, and yet, because we were in a different environment, or perhaps because of the wine, I picked up subtleties in their manner of speech, in their expressions. I don't believe they were any different. We've all known each other for a while and have no need to pretend or put on airs. They were the same. I was the same. I was looking for different things. I was with familiar people in an unfamiliar place.

The job of a writer is to notice those subtle changes. The color of the walls or how comfortable the couch is or isn't is of no importance. Those details will not change the story unless something related to those things happens during the party or if you imagine something funny or tragic relating to those inanimate objects, like someone fat sitting on a chair and it collapses, etc. It's the people that matter. Stories are always about people, not about things. Even when a story is about a thing, you don't care about it unless you understand how that thing relates to a person. It's always about the people! And you learn about people when you observe them in their natural environment. You learn something different when you see them elsewhere. Pay attention. You will learn something.

Adolfo Jimenez is an author, poet, and blogger. He lives in Hollywood, Florida. He has published eight books, which you can find here.

<script data-ad-client="ca-pub-8729603388037550" async src="https://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/js/adsbygoogle.js"></script>

Inspired by Fools

Maybe the title of this post is unfair. I am a lover of people. I love meeting people and talking to people. I love making friends. I love fools because I am a fool.

I was at a cocktail party last night and got into some great conversations including one with a man who kept looking at my name tag, which read Adolfo and still managed to call me Alfredo. But he was a nice man and we made friends. He can call me anything he wants. I guess as long as my wife gets my name right, I have little to worry about.

I met this man and he made an impression and I have no doubt that I will see him again sometime in the future. But even if I never see him again, he was a hell of a character and it wouldn't surprise me to see him pop up in my creative work some day in the future, knowing him for a few hours was worth it. He was great fun.

As a writer, every experience is potentially part of a story.  Everyone you meet can be a character. Every place you visit is a setting. All the better if they manage to entertain you.


Adolfo Jimenez is a writer living against his will in Hollywood, Florida.  His latest release is Scenes from a 1979 Ford Fairmont, a short book of poems. Get it on Amazon!

Check him out here!

The Friends We Listen To

I like to work in silence. I don't play music. I sit at my desk in my home and I write in silence. I don't like a lot of activity around me so I don't sit in a cafe. I am too easily distracted, so I try to minimize the distractions. My wife and daughters leave early in the morning so I can squeeze in a couple hours of work before the world squeezes in on me.

But once in a while, I like to have a little background noise. Never a TV or anything. Usually a little music. I will choose music I'm not inclined to sing along to. If I sing along, I am not working. Writing is creative work, not busy work. It's not an automatic thing like making your bed or mowing the lawn. I always listen to an audiobook or music when doing household chores. I even take my phone into the shower with me so I can listen to a book as I shower, shave, brush my teeth and make myself pretty. Okay, I'm never pretty, but at least I can minimize the ugliness.

But I am choosy about what I listen to. Classical is great to play while writing because you can't sing along to it. Classical music conveys feelings and abstract shapes without words. Perfect for writing.

The important thing is to avoid distractions. Distractions kill creativity, so it is important to kill the distractions.  This is why I don't work in coffee shops. Coffee shops are for coffee and conversation. I work in silence. I work in my home. When I'm travelling, I work in my hotel room. Writing is a private enterprise. Writing in front of people is for those who want to be seen or thought of as writers, but don't actually want to write.

You do the work. Let your words get the glory.


Adolfo Jimenez is a writer living against his will in Hollywood, Florida.  His latest release is Scenes from a 1979 Ford Fairmont, a short book of poems. Get it on Amazon!

Check him out here!

The Invisible Muse

We all need friends. We need friends to make us laugh, to inspire us, to be truthful with us. I have a friend who is all of those things. We don't get to see each other often, we rarely speak, we mostly text one another. But she gets me. She shares my sensibilities. She is also a writer and we bounce ideas off one another. She gets my sense of humor and had a broad vocabulary so I can be myself and talk like a snob and she gets what I'm saying.

We all need friends we can talk to, especially if we live in the creative space. I call her my invisible muse not because of any romantic feeling. I'm a happily married man and my wife is the only woman I care about impressing. She is a muse because I feel a certain liberty around her and she encourages me to express myself freely. She gets my humor.

It's very liberating.

I like to read to my wife. She likes for me to read to her. It's something I did for her on our first date and have been doing ever since. Not every day, not at any specific time or occasion. I read to her when I'm inspired. She is my greatest cheerleader. I'd be lost without her.

I have another close friend I talk to about my work. She is someone near and dear to me. She's actually one of my closest friends. She listens, she encourages, and as a result she inspires me.

Yet another friend is my number one beta reader. She is the first to read anything significant I write. She ask questions and challenges me at every turn. She's a pain in the ass and I love her for it. She's been reading my work for over twenty years and I hope she'll continue to do this for me for the rest of my writing life.

But there is one muse I must always please and that muse matters more than all the others combined. The most important muse. Patient Zero. The first line of defense. That would be me. If I ain't happy, it ain't going nowhere.

Write for yourself. Make sure you're happy. Make sure you do your best. The rest will take care of itself.



Adolfo Jimenez is a writer living against his will in Hollywood, Florida.  His latest release is Scenes from a 1979 Ford Fairmont, a short book of poems. Get it on Amazon!

Check him out here!

The Evolution of Dave Chappelle

Much is being said about Dave Chappelle's  new stand up special available on Netflix. I watched it last week. Never thought I'd find myself writing about it but here I am.

Chappelle had long ago proven that he is a fearless comic. His show on Comedy Central was hugely successful and with good reason. He took a lot of chances and rarely missed. The show was just plain funny. Chappelle has proven time and again that he deserves to be compared to Eddy Murphy or Richard Pryor, two of my favorites when I was growing up.

But with his latest release, Chappelle has claimed new territory. He stepped into a world previously occupied by comics like George Carlin and Bill Hicks. Chappelle now seems to be as interested in making you think as he is in making you laugh; making you uncomfortable is a bonus. The show had funny lines, to be sure, but there were far more lines that seemed meant to push buttons and get people, weak people, foaming at the mouth.

There have been serious opinion pieces calling Chappelle, who is black in case you didn't know, a white supremacist. People are hating on him pretty intensely right now. This is what happens when you have the balls to be honest about your feelings.

I am not trying to defend Chappelle's opinions. The man is quite capable of defending himself. What I will defend is his right to express those opinions.

Chappelle has gone from sidekick (Men in Tights, You've got Mail) to writer and comic performer in his Comedy Central show, to prophet and pot-stirrer extraordinaire in his Netflix special. The man has evolved.

In today's cancel culture, you are not allowed to make a point. You are not allowed to be okay with harsh words. Everything must be sanitized in order to be acceptable. If it hurts someone, it must be eliminated, along with its creator.

Chappelle presents a special problem for the PC police because his is black. He is not afraid of controversy and he's rich enough to tell the world to go to hell.

Lucky bastard.

Note:

I usually write this column to share my thoughts on writing. My opinion pieces appear in other places under other names. The lesson here for an aspiring writer is that you should learn to be fearless. Speak your truth, your opinions. Speak even when you are scared. Don't let yourself be bullied. You are too important; much more important than the feelings of some little pussy who can't handle words he can't agree with. Of course, if you are the little pussy who can't handle the words, kindly fuck the hell off.



Adolfo Jimenez is a writer living against his will in Hollywood, Florida.  His latest release is Scenes from a 1979 Ford Fairmont, a short book of poems. Get it on Amazon!

Check him out here!

The Black Water

I get sad sometimes. I mean, everybody gets sad sometimes. I get depressed. Yesterday, a friend of mine showed me a meme he'd seen on Instagram. It showed the faces of entertainers who have committed suicide. These were people who were outwardly happy and seemed to have it all. He told me the meme made him think of me. Because I tend to be the class clown. I strike people as being impossibly happy - until I'm not.

I am a joker. I am happy-go-lucky. I've had people half my age call me a child. I out-kid my kids. But now and then I find myself swimming in the black water. Sometimes, it happens for no reason that I can name. Sometimes, it is triggered. It's always fairly debilitating.

The important thing is that I've learned enough about myself to recognize when I'm swimming in the black water, and I can deal with it. I try to work as I normally would to keep my mind occupied. I keep my distance from people. I don't want them to hurt me and I don't want to hurt them. I endure. No drugs, prescription or otherwise. I take a little time and I work through the issues, if there are any, and I occupy my mind.

I'm not saying that people who suffer from depression shouldn't get help. I'm a big believer in therapy. I believe in having a support system. I believe in self awareness.

So, if you are like me in the sense that every now and then you get depressed and feel hopeless or lost, please don't let yourself believe that it's a situation with no way out. There is always a way out and as Robert Frost said, "The best way out is through."

For a writer, everything can be fuel for the fire. Even the things that feel like the opposite of fuel. Sometimes art comes from pain, and the light shines in the dark places. Don't be afraid to package your sadness, your pain, your anger, your fear, and even your happiness into a story, a painting, a poem, or a song. Everything's been said before, but not by you. It is your uniqueness and personal life experience that separate you from the billions of people you share the planet with. Sharing that point of view will enrich the world and will serve as therapy for you. Trust me. I just did it.



Adolfo Jimenez is a writer living against his will in Hollywood, Florida.  His latest release is Scenes from a 1979 Ford Fairmont, a short book of poems. Get it on Amazon!

Check him out here!

The Support System

Maybe it's because I'm staring down the barrel of the big 5-0. Maybe it's because I'm just a little tired of not doing what I feel I was put on this earth to do. Maybe things happen because they are meant to happen. I don't know.

What I do know, is that I am taking writing more seriously than I have in the twenty-five years since I first started writing.

A little background:

I was married and had two kids from two different women before my twenty-first birthday. I was divorced before my 22nd birthday. It was a tumultuous and traumatic time. It was then that I started writing.

I wrote a few books, a bunch of short stories, poems, and some screenplays. First drafts all. I never rewrote a damn thing.

What an idiot.

In those years there were women, one of which I lived with for four years. She was a great lady and I loved her dearly. But she never read a word of my writing and it destroyed me. I felt she didn't support me. Maybe I was right and maybe I was wrong. I don't know. What I do know is that I got choked up on all the wrong things.

That relationship ended and I slept around until I met the woman who would become my wife and has been by my side for 19 years. She has read my work and supported me. She has put up with my crap.

And being the ungrateful shit that I am, I realize I don't really need her. It's not that I don't need her. I don't need anyone at all. I don't need to have someone read my work and tell me I'm a genius, especially since no honest person would say such a thing. What I need is someone to not only give me my space, but to protect that space. I need someone to stand watch and protect me from interruptions. My wife is that person... most of the time.

I've come to understand that putting pressure on people, making them feel that in order to love you, they must also be your adoring fan, is destructive. People are people and we are supposed to love them for their individuality. Well, sometimes, individuals don't feel like reading your shit. Deal with it.

Abby and I have a nice system. I read to her. I read to her on our first date. I tried to read to her but I couldn't because I was only focused on getting her alone in the dark and this was in the time before tablets. But reading to her is a nice way for us to spend time. It gives me the opportunity to find flaws and typos. It's a bonding opportunity and has become part of the editing process for my work. I can't zone out or skip over things when I am reading to an audience. Especially when the audience is made up of my number one fan and roommate!

So, yes, look for support. Look for your own fans, but don't let the lack of support cripple your progress. Don't take another person's lack of interest to be a sign that you're wasting your time. Work harder for their attention. They'll either get to say they knew you when you were nobody or they'll have to admit they missed the greatness that was right in front of their nose!




Adolfo Jimenez is a writer living against his will in Hollywood, Florida.  His latest release is Scenes from a 1979 Ford Fairmont, a short book of poems. Get it on Amazon!

Check him out here!

A Clean, Well-Lighted (Quiet) Place

You need a place to write. Writing is a job like any other job. What happens if you don't show up for work? You lose your job. You are unemployed. You are pounding the pavement. There may seem to be no consequences for you as a writer if you choose not to write because no one will fire you, but if you don't make time to write, you will not make it as a writer. I know that seems obvious, but sometimes the obvious things are the hardest to see.

Too many people are in love with the idea of being a writer. They want to tell people they are working on a novel or two. They want to be seen in Starbucks, staring off into the distance with their laptop at the ready, standing by to capture their genius. They want to do the writerly things. They just don't actually want to write.

I have a close friend who is an incredibly talented individual, who could own Hollywood (the real Hollywood, not the South Florida shithole where I live) but he doesn't do the things that he would have to do in order to succeed. His reasons are personal and real and I don't bust his balls about it anymore. I used to, but I'm not his agent. I have no place telling him what to do. It's his life, not mine.

The point is that you have to do what you have to do if you want to succeed. Fuck the attention. The thing about being a writer is that attention ruins everything. Don't believe me? Ask Hemingway. Never mind, he's dead. Read The Snows of Kilimanjaro and he'll explain how every day of comfort and betraying who he was contributed to the end of his career as a writer. He was telling the story of a man named Harry, but he was seeing his future.

So find a clean, well lighted place to write. Or find a noisy, dim place to write. Just find a place and do your thing and do it.



Adolfo Jimenez is a writer living against his will in Hollywood, Florida.  His latest release is Scenes from a 1979 Ford Fairmont, a short book of poems. Get it on Amazon!

Check him out here!

When to Steal

This is not about plagiarism. That kind of stealing is never cool. If you do it, you deserve a fate worse than death. Something really horrible, like having to spend eternity in the waiting room of a clinic in Hialeah where the old ladies complain about their aches and pains and how little their social insecurity checks are.

This is about stealing experiences. Hemingway said that you had to really know a thing to write about it. He was right - for himself. Tell that to Tolkien or Lewis or to George Lucas. These men created new worlds that simply didn't exist. Worlds they only knew inside their heads.

How can a man write about the experiences of a woman? How can a woman write a man? By learning. And how do we learn? By paying attention. There are seven billion people on this planet and every one of them is having an experience every moment. I am experiencing the writing of this blog post. You are suffering through the experience of reading it. So, let's do a little exercise...

What am I wearing?
Where am I sitting?
Is it day or night?
Am I showered and shaved?
Do I have a cup of coffee or a glass of whisky nearby?

I don't care about your answers anymore than you should care about the correct answers. You decide what I'm wearing, what I'm drinking. You decide everything about it. Steal the experience of me writing this and make it your own. Steal it as you would steal the experience of a cop chasing a bad guy or a caveman hunting a woolly mammoth.

You don't need to experience all there is to experience in order to be a writer. Imagination trumps all.





Adolfo Jimenez is a writer living against his will in Hollywood, Florida.  His latest release is Scenes from a 1979 Ford Fairmont, a short book of poems. Get it on Amazon!

Check him out here!

Little Notes

I've been married to Abby for nineteen years. Long time. Love her more each day. Though, there are times when I remember that if I'd killed her the day I met her, I'd probably be out by now.

We have good times and bad times though more good than bad. We put effort into getting along and being happy and I don't mind saying we have a damn good sex life after all these years. We are lucky, we are fortunate; in a word we are blessed.

It's not easy, but it's not hard. We do the little things. We sometimes write each other little notes. Sometimes on paper, sometimes by text. We listen to one another. We make time for each other. We support each other.

Why do you care about this? I don't know. I don't care if you care about this. I do. It's good to have some stability. She is my rock. She gives me space to be myself and listens to me bitch and moan when being myself becomes too much to bear. I'd like to think I do the same for her.

I'll admit I have the easier end of the bargain. She's an intelligent, normal, stable person. I'm a writer. I'm manic-depressive. I'm temperamental. I'm an idiot.

So this post is a little note to my wife. The woman who took everything from me except my name, and gave me so much more than I could have reasonably expected and more than I could ever deserve.






Adolfo Jimenez is a writer living against his will in Hollywood, Florida.  His latest release is Scenes from a 1979 Ford Fairmont, a short book of poems. Get it on Amazon!

Check him out here!

Doing Writerly Things

I got a rare Saturday afternoon to myself today. My wife and older daughter are out of town. My younger daughter was at a party which I was not invited to. Rubber chicken and no booze. I'll get over it. I dropped her off and found a local bar. I sat down and ordered a very tall beer and lunch.

I was halfway through the beer before the food came. It was not yet noon. This is new to me. Not the eating. Not the drinking. The drinking before lunch before noon could be a thing, though I doubt it. Still, I ate. I drank. I was merry for a while.

I had one more very tall beer and finished my lunch but before then, I did a little writing. In my head and on my iPhone. I took notes for what may or may not become a poem, a short story, part of a book or nothing at all.

I texted a writer buddy of mine and told her this drinking alone at a bar before noon is the most writerly thing I've ever done. She agreed that it did indeed sound writerly. Whatever that means.

In Paris in the 20's, writers hung out in cafes not to be seen, but to take advantage of the heat. Now, people crack open their laptops in Starbucks because writing, it seems, is the least important part of being a writer. What matters is that you are recognized as a writer. It seems to be an excuse to be eccentric or not have a good job, or to drink on someone else's tab. I don't know how eccentric I am, but I pay for my own drinks with money I earn from my job.

Writerly things vary. Hemingway liked hunting and Fishing and Travel. Bukowski drank wine and loved L.A. Hunter S Thompson did every drug imaginable.  Two of these great men committed suicide. Is that writerly?

So go on and hang out in bars. Drink coffee, write in full view of the public, or pretend to write as you read Facebook posts about writing and answer idiotic questions posted in writers' groups. Perhaps you'll post some idiotic questions of your own.

But I would advise you to lift your head now and then. See what's happening around you? That's life. That's the stuff of literature. The world is what you need to understand if you really want to be a writer. Not the look, the looking. The listening, the watching. Soak in the smells of a place because they tell you as much about what's happening around you as anything else.

What it comes down to is that if you want to be a writer, there is only one thing you must do, and that is write. The rest is pretentious bullshit.




Adolfo Jimenez is a writer living against his will in Hollywood, Florida.  His latest release is Scenes from a 1979 Ford Fairmont, a short book of poems. Get it on Amazon!

Check him out here!

Digging Up The Past

Hemingway said you can't write what you don't know. What that means to the science fiction and fantasy writers I have no clue. But to writers like myself, his words are gospel. You can tell when a writer knows the subject.

I can't write about mountain climbing - never done it. I can, however, describe the fear of bridges. I'm not proud of it, but it's true. Bridges terrify me.

Our writing is informed by our experiences. I dare say what we read or the movies and TV we watch count as experience. Everything is fuel for the imagination. The more you take in, the more you can put out. It also helps to not be lazy. I can't tell you how many people I've met over the years who looked for shortcuts. Well, there are no shortcuts. Not to any place worth going. (I read that somewhere. It's not mine. I'm not that clever, but it illustrates the point. Read more, know more. Write more.)

So don't be afraid to write about old lovers or the bully from third grade who punched you and stole your lunch. If you were the bully, write about your experiences as an insecure asshole. It's all good. It all counts as raw material. Fuel for the fire.

Write what you know. Write it well. Write it now.

Well, go on. Do it!

- Adolfo






Adolfo Jimenez is an author, poet, blogger, and past-digger-upper living in Hollywood, FL .

Company Loves Misery

Or something like that...

I have attended a couple of meetings of a local writers' group. They meet at a library once a month. It's a casual gathering. A few people show up and we talk about books and someone might read. We talk movies, sports, hometowns, it's like a million first dates.

Part of me, a part I hardly recognize, wants structure. The part of me that is hones knows I'll probably complain about the meetings if they were structured. I have always hated structure. That ain't about to change.

I think the biggest benefit for me is that there are others who are going through the same thing I am going through. Someone understands. I told you that to tell you this:

It's okay to talk to someone. Not about writing, necessarily. I should say not only about writing. A friend of mine recently had a meltdown. She attacked me. I didn't take it personally. I recognized the symptoms. She was going through a lot and trying to take on the world by herself. Not a good idea. She had a couple of drinks and now has six stitches and what promises to be a fairly prominent scar on an otherwise beautiful face. I expect she'll rock the hell out of that scar.

Talk to someone who understands and cares. Talk to someone who's been there. Just talk to someone.




Adolfo Jimenez is not a mental health expert, though he has known several over the years. He is a writer, blogger, poet, husband, and dad living in Hollywood, Florida.

Do Something

Just do something. It won't always be great. That's okay. The important thing is that you do something. You can always go back and edit your work.

It was my birthday last night. Always a painful day for me. Some might say by choice. I went out with my wife and daughters. We ate a lot and drank a little. I have to reverse that. Food kills me in a way that booze doesn't. Don't know why. It just does.

I've been up since three this morning. I read for a while, then I tried to go back to sleep. Nope. I read a little more. Tried to sleep again. Nothing doing.

I finally dragged my fat ass out of bed around 7:30. I feel like I ate a car battery. But here I am, writing this blog. I also wrote a poem about the experience. Why let a gastrointestinal crisis go to waste?

There is something to be gained from every experience. As a writer, I want to write about these experiences. I want to share them. That's what I mean about not letting them go to waste. The story itself may not be great, but there may be some splinter of usefulness in there somewhere. And besides, it keeps the muscles loose.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go vomit.






Adolfo Jimenez is an old fart living in Hollywood, FL. He is an author, poet, blogger, and drinker. He is not a competitive eater. His website is http://www.adolfojimenez.com 

Tough Choices

Being a writer is a lot like being a minor god. You are the god for the universe you are creating. Even if there is a god in your story, you tell him what to do.

Don't let that go to your head.

You're still just a schmuck like the rest of us.

I recently published a novella, The Man in the Gray Sky. I sold a few copies, gave a few copies away, and felt good about it over all.

Then I read it.

I withdrew it. With the perspective only time can give, I realized the book wasn't ready to be published. I was like a kid on his way to Disney, jumping out of the car before his dad parked the car. (Yes, this happened when I was a kid... many times, many places!)

It was tough to unpublish my book. It was like admitting defeat. Again, as I take a little time to think about it. It's not an admission of defeat. It's a momentary retreat to regroup and resume the attack.

This has given me a chance to rethink the book and the follow-up to it, which I just finished a week ago, and the direction of the series and the characters. There is no shame in pulling out. In this case, it's a very responsible thing to do. My readers will appreciate it - both of them.

Discouragement

Last night was rough.

I fell asleep fast, though late. I had a dream that woke me up and went back to sleep.
I woke up late.
Exhausted.
Unable to work.

But I sat at my desk.
And I tried.
And I tried.
And I tried.
I couldn't get no... satisfactory work done.

It's not writer's block.
It's not the end of the world.
It's calling in sick.
I need a day to shake this... feeling.
It's just... one of those things.

Quit Your Day Job!

Don't! I meant to say Don't Quit Your Day Job!

The allure of art is strong. But the allure of food and shelter are stronger. It's a wonderful thing to be an artist; to spend the day with your head in the clouds and the evening at a party with the glitterati. But it doesn't happen to everyone.

I work a full-time plus job. I make a decent living. I complain about it all the time. And as a result, I am writing this blog in the comfort of my lovely home with the air cooled to a comfortable temperature.

There are countless stories of starving artists who make it big but there are more stories of the ones who starved and had to go back to the real world. And there are plenty of stories that ended in worse ways.

If you have responsibilities, meet them. If you're young and still live at home, chase your dream for as long as your parents will allow. If you have a sugar daddy or sugar mommy, good for you!

But be responsible. I don't want to support you with my tax dollars.






Adolfo Jimenez is a writer living in Hollywood, FL. His first published novella, The Man in the Gray Sky, was released in April 2019. The follow up, A Season in Exile, is scheduled for release in September 2019.

Productivity

How do you do it all?

Has anyone ever asked you that? Have you ever met someone and wondered how they do it all? There's a simple answer: they don't. They prioritize. No one does everything.

I have five priorities:

1) Family
2) Working (being a provider)
3) Writing
4) Reading
5) Alone time

I manage to get all of these. My family is, obviously, the most important thing in my life. Everything I do to take care of them and to earn their respect. So, I guess the first one is easy since everything I do is, in some way, for them.

I work hard. I earn a living. Not millions, but a solid income that provides food and shelter and vacation twice a year with the occasional weekend getaway.

I write because it's what I want to do with my life. I would love to make a living as a writer. As yet, I don't. Once I do, I'll quit my job. So, while writing is something I love, I treat it like work. It's not a hobby. It's not something I squeeze in between reruns and social engagements. I write. Period.

Reading is important to me as an individual and as a writer. I think we all need to read more. It gives me sanity. It makes me a better writer, and more importantly, a better man.

Alone time is key to mental survival. I drive myself to work and home every day. This is alone time. I often call my parents in the morning (okay every morning) to say hello but the drive home is mine. I listen to audio books or music or the sounds of the world. I drive a convertible and when the weather permits, driving with the top down is great therapy for me.

This is my daily routine. How do I find the time?

I wake up early, around five AM. I write for a couple of hours then I read. Phone calls in the car to mom and dad. I try not to work more hours than necessary. I'm not lazy, I just go to work and I work. I make every minute count (for the most part.) I take a lunch break every day. Often alone, sometimes with a friend. When solo, I read while I munch. I listen to a book in my car on the way home and have dinner with the family. I read as I digest. Later when the kids are asleep I make the sweet love to my wife (sometimes, I'm old) and sleep about six hours.

No, I don't watch TV. A little once in a while. Sometimes on the weekends, but I don't keep up with the Kartrashians. I don't watch the bachelor at the whorehouse, and I certainly don't watch news. Life is depressing enough

So, decide what matters. Make a list of what matters. Toss out everything that doesn't matter.

Get.
Shit.
Done.

Keep writing,

Adolfo

Writing is the easy part

I mean it. The easiest part of writing anything, a book, a poem, a short story, a recipe, is the actual writing. All you're doing when you write is regurgitating observations and life experiences. You're peeing on the wall. The hard part comes after. Editing is the hard part. Revising is the hard part.

After you spend hours, days, weeks, months, years, whatever, writing your first draft, you have to go back and fix the whole thing. You get that feeling of re-reading a book too soon.

There are books I read once a year. There are books I've read once, loved intensely, and will never read again. I've never read a book, gotten to "The End" and turned it over and started it again. That would be madness. That's the madness of the second draft.

Of course, some may go right back at it and some might let it sit in a drawer or on a hard drive before wading back into the mud.

I like to go right back. If I wait too long, I lose interest and I'm on to the next shiny object. You may want to wait a while, let it marinate.

I am also a fan of the Hemingway way. Hemingway method? Style? Whatever. Start the day by reading and changing what you did before. Not the day before, EVERYTHING you've already written. Once your book is too long to all the way back, you go back a chapter or two. By they time you finish your first draft, it's pretty damn clean.

So, remember. Writing is easy. Returning to your vomit... not so easy.

Keep writing,

Adolfo

What Are You Reading?

What Are You Reading?

If your answer is:

A) Nothing

B) I don't have time to read

C) I'm not much of a reader

D) Huh?

E) All of the above

I have news for you: you'll never make it as a writer.

I'm no authority on such matters since I am not a household name. I am known in my own home, but just barely so. I just believe we should all be willing to eat our own cooking.

But even if you're not a writer. Reading is amazing. It's guided imagination. You and I can watch a movie and see the same thing. But we can both read a book and have hours of discussion about what the writer was trying to say and what this or that meant. Imagination is just like any other muscle: use it or lose it. (I know the imagination is not a muscle. Work with me. I was being imaginative.)

So... just read it.

The Hours

I can't sleep.

I don't mean today. I mean in general. I've always been an early riser. I remember whenever I slept over my cousin's house when we were kids, I woke up at the butt-crack of dawn and waited around impatiently until she woke up so we could go outside and play. Nothing has changed.

I usually wake up around five. This is a good time for me since there is silence in the house. It's the time I write, read, contemplate the mysteries of the universe... that kind of thing. I don't always get out of bed at five, but I am awake.

I've joined some online writers' groups lately and I'm struck with the realization that there are a lot of people out there who want to be recognized as writers. I'm not sure how many of them are actually writing. Talking about writing is rather interesting. Calling yourself a writer can be exciting and in some circles can get you laid. Writing on the other hand, is a lonely, arduous life. Not everyone can do it. If you're writing for recognition, you're wasting your time. Become a performance artist if you want recognition. Writers should write.

I'm aware that we live in a celebrity culture and that we all want to be seen and recognized. I know we all want to succeed. I get that. But the only way you'll succeed as a writer is by writing.

When I read posts by "writers" asking what they should name a character, I SMH and LOL. J/K, I do none of those things. But I never respond because that is not a person interested in writing, that is a person looking for attention. That is a person who wants to be known as a writer. Whether they write anything other than a Facebook post is of little consequence.

Please spellcheck your hate mail.

Keep it up,

Adolfo

The Why

This isn't my first blog.
It's not my second.
It's my third.
Not three blog posts, three actual blogs!

I'm not including the aborted attempts. Three blogs. One about me. One about current events. This one... about damn time. It's about writing. I've been writing for over twenty years. Books, screenplays, short stories, poems, essays. Blogs! A lot of writing. A lot of words.

I guess I'm writing this blog because I recently decided to identify as a writer. Writing has been a private thing for me. No more. This is how my midlife crisis is manifesting. I already have a convertible. I don't have the patience to date women half my age. So, I write. And I will write about writing which is the worst, most pretentious writing there is.

There will also be some interesting stuff here, I hope. That, I suppose, is for you to decide.

I don't know what my plans for this blog are, but I will probably post poems or thoughts or... this is already boring me to tears.

Stay tuned. I hope to make this worth your while.