Adolfo Jimenez

Tuesday, August 4, 2020

Counting Down

In five days, my daughter will be going away to college. I am dying. I knew this day would come. In fact, I always encouraged her to look for schools in other states. I told her being away from home is a legit part of the college - learning - growing up experience. The one time the kid listens to her father!

I am happy for her and I am proud. She applied to one school and was accepted. She is the only one of her graduating class that is going to be attending college away from home. She'll be nearly two thousand miles and two time zones away. I've never lived that far from her or even from my own parents. It's scary and it's exciting. And I'm sad that she won't be here every day. I'm sad that this place, which has been her home since before her first birthday, will seem a little emptier without her. Okay, a lot emptier. She took her first steps here. She was potty trained here. She is an enormous part of what makes this a home.

So, I'm a little depressed and I am hating the march of time this week. I want my little girl to stay forever, but I know this simply cannot be. She will always be my little girl, even when she is far away. I have to accept it, but I sure as hell don't have to like it.

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

Thursday, July 9, 2020

What's easy not to do

I've been thinking of creating a new website. I've also been looking to team up with an editor who could work closely with me. I've been looking for a web designer, too.

In this day and age there is no reason for me to be thinking about these things and not getting them done so I put out a feeler on Facebook, asking for my creative peeps to reach out. They did.

Now begins a new chapter in my life.

Follow me to Apresterra!

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

Tuesday, June 30, 2020

Swimmin' Without Women

It's Tuesday morning. It's cold in my house. Not because of anything having to do with the climate or the environment. The A/C is blasting as it will all summer. It's actually pretty warm outside although it's not even 8:00 AM.

I sit down at my computer to write as I do most mornings and I am a little more awake than I might otherwise be. It's not the coffee. It's the pool. I took a little swim this morning. I was letting out the dogs (I guess I've answered that Baja Men question - sorry, it had to be done!) and I decided to do something a little different. I stripped out of my boxers, stepped into my trunks, and went for a dip. I would have preferred to go in my birthday suit but I don't have that level of privacy in my yard, unfortunately. Time to build a taller fence.

I didn't go into the pool with any kind of agenda. I didn't tell myself I'd swim ten laps or do that aqua-aerobics stuff they do at the YMCA pool. I just floated around and listened to the world waking up. I heard the sounds of cars on the road. I heard road construction a couple of blocks away. It was just me and my ears.

It's a good thing to go out once in a while and just be. You don't need music or even a companion. My dogs were living their own lives, not worrying about me. My family is inside asleep. There is nothing but me and the water and that is all I need. It's a nice transition from asleep to the hectic action that follows on any given day.

I tried to guide my thoughts toward projects I'm currently working on but nothing doing. I let it go, It was too early and the water was too calm and too warm for anything structured. I let my thoughts go where the wind and the leaves and the noise of the world led them. And that was all right. I'll be out there again tomorrow. Maybe without my bathing suit... maybe not.

Find your quiet spot. Enjoy it. Soak it up a while.

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

Friday, June 26, 2020

Day Drinking

I work at home. Most writers do. I traveled last week and my homes was a cabin in the mountains of West Yellowstone, Montana. The view from the window in front of my little writing desk was spectacular, if a bit distracting.

See, I live in South Florida. What's a mountain? We complain about speed bumps. We are at sea level. Standing on a box can make your ears pop. Need I go on? Good.

So now I'm home. It's a thousand degrees in the shade. I have to work and since I am home, the bar beckons. I look up recipes. I stare at the bar. The bar stares at me. I dream of a Long Island Iced Tea, or an old fashioned or even a beer.

But I hold back. I am no Don Draper. When the drinking starts, the working stops. So I don't drink until I am done with work. I'm not telling you what to do and I don't judge, but I'm going to stick to what works for me. You do you, baby!

I'm blessed not to have an addictive personality, by which I mean I don't have addictions. Many have been addicted to me... shut up. It's my blog and I'll lie if I want to. Still, I don't want to take the chance of making drinking or drugs a crutch. Not for writing, not for life, not for any reason at all. So... I drink after I work.

There's a quote attributed (wrongly) to Ernest Hemingway: Write Drunk, Edit Sober. I would rather do the whole process sober. There'll be time to drink when the writing's done.

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

Tuesday, June 23, 2020

Gathering Information

I just came back from a week in West Yellowstone, Montana. It is, without a doubt, one of my favorite places in the world. I stayed in a cabin on a ranch. I rode horses and went whitewater rafting. I went to Yellowstone National Park and to Mesa Falls in Idaho. It was a great, badly-needed vacation. As much as I love my home, my bed, my pillow and my dogs, I hated coming back.

This was my second visit to West Yellowstone. I came back from my first trip very inspired and immediately began writing a novel about the place. I hit the wall at about a hundred pages. So, I went up this year thinking I would find the spark and get the story written finally!

I skipped one of the horse rides we had scheduled so I could get to work on my story. I wrote about a thousand words. A whole new story about the same place. That was a week ago. I've given up... for now!

I think the problem is that I'm trying to force the book to happen. It never works that way. These things come when they want to come. It's not that I haven't been writing. I've been working every day and I've been editing. The story needs a little more time to percolate. Or maybe it needs to marinate. Whatever it is, it doesn't need to be forced. That's a great way to kill what could be a great story.

Gather the facts, breathe the air, feel the breeze, see the sights. Listen to the people talk and learn their stories. Their stories become yours. These people become the characters in your stories. You are not stealing from them, you are immortalizing them. Nobody wants to live forever, but nobody wants to die. And certainly no one wants to be forgotten.

So take notes and bide your time. The story will come when it's ready.

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

Thursday, June 4, 2020

The Every Day

So... how's your quarantine going?

Ready to go outside?

Oh... riots.

So... how are you passing the time? I hope you're not binge-watching bad TV shows that you've already watched. I hope you're taking at least a little time to improve yourself. Maybe you're reading a book. Maybe you're fixing up your house. Maybe you've taken up watercolors. Are you writing that book you've been dreaming about writing? Get to it.

The pandemic has pushed us out of our comfort zone by locking us in the most comfortable of places: our homes. Home is great when you have the opportunity to leave at will. Otherwise, it's a prison. Some great stories were written about prisons. Stories like Papillon, Escape from Alcatraz, The Count of Monte Cristo, and others. Any of those stories would help you appreciate how comfy your "prison" is.

I realize this is coming late. I've been a little caught up with other things and I have been ignoring this blog. I've been doing a lot of work for The Liberty Drip, which is a political blog I contribute to, I've also completed a novella, the completion of the Man In The Gray Sky trilogy scheduled to be released in the summer; and a new novel, which I hope to release in the fall.

I also took care of some home improvement projects including an above-ground pool and a nice area to enjoy my backyard. Just in time for the rainy season! Hooray!

So, don't let the lockdown get you down. Don't become a victim of your circumstances. Instead, make the most of the time you have and create something beautiful.

Keep doing what you do!

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

Friday, March 6, 2020

The Nomadic Imperative

Often you will hear someone tell you they want to live a nice quiet life. We have been convinced that all we really want is some variation of what we see on TV. A spouse, a kid or two, maybe a dog or a cat, perhaps a witty guinea pig or a bird. We want a car and we want two weeks vacation every year plus weekends off. Except the guinea pig and the bird. They're relatively new. And I'm allergic to cats so I have two dogs.

This has been my life for nearly thirty years and I can tell you I was sold a lie.

This is not to say I haven't been happy. I have been. I am happy. But, I am also restless. I feel like I am cheating myself. I feel like I am giving up on my dreams. I remind myself that I am young enough to still go out and do the things I want to do. Then my back hurts, and I remember I am not as young as I imagine myself to be. Young at heart, old just about everywhere else.

Is this what Thoreau meant when he talked about men living lives of quiet desperation? Is this why I work to fill the void? I don't really know. I don't think anyone could know. I do know it sucks and while the intensity of these feelings increases and decreases, they never quite go away.

I've lived in the same area most of my life. I am, as I write this, 30 minutes from where I grew up, went to school, learned to drive, and lost my virginity. I long to move, but I have responsibilities. I want to walk, to seize the road, but I can't. It would be irresponsible, and I can't do that.

Ernest Hemingway said that to live in one land is captivity. Well, shit. He was right. Not that everyone who lives a stable, successful middle-class existence is unhappy. I can see people choosing this life. I can see its appeal. Maybe it's because I have no choice that I feel the urge to move on.

I feel the urge, but I will fight the urge. I ain't going nowhere. For now. But if I do decide to go, you'll read it here first.

The views expressed by the author are his alone and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of anyone anywhere.

Adolfo Jimenez is the chair of the elections committee of the Libertarian Party of Broward County. He is an author, poet, and blogger. He lives in Hollywood, Florida. He has published eight books, which you can find here.