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!

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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.