By The Heart…

Once there was a man, child at heart, but old geezer was his ways. Playful at the quad, teaser to the young ones around. He was Liked by many, but loved by few. And one night led to a morning, wide awake now, he cried at a reflection that was not in his image. Not able to bear the ugliness of what he sees, he runs and runs, in hopes that he will magically disappears. Wasted wishes won’t do, so a change of site may bring him some peace through the day’s dew. With war at his mind, he decides to alter his structure, hoping that in the end, he may alter that picture. Fearsome at view, but most importantly, quieter will get the viewers.

Building his rage as he tries to pickup his pace, he found himself running towards a child that leaks. Eyes red as flame, watery as the toddler speaks.

“Lost from my father and brother, cannot find one another”. shaky his words were, he explained to the man his dilemma. abandoning his quest to change his might, he opened his heart, for the kid in white. Cheering him up as they reduced the distance’s space, challenging him every couple of yards for a race. Laughing now, he spots his father and brother, smiling as they see us laugh with each other.

The man realized as he left them, that it is by the heart and not the might you can change one another.

 

So… that’s pretty much what had happened. I have experienced sadness from what I see on TV. I lived abroad but I still have roots from where I was originated from. And every time I look at the news, I feel those roots are being severed. With talks of ISIS expanding, I sought to build up stamina, ending up facing a child who helped me see things better. As the great Gandhi said, ” Be the change you want to see in the world.”

I am still writing and my upcoming works are my ways to change the world… well, at least change a single child, so he or she might remember that there is still goodness in this world when they grow old.

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Why I’m Off, you ask?

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It is rather true, a Bobcat like me always has his head itching with mice running around inside, searching for a fattening cheese of an idea. As any author who believes in what he/she writes, I… we… live in two dimensions. If it gets quieter, let me assure you, that’s when an author really becomes crazy, because we can now hear the mice, and they look so delicious to us Bobcat-writers. But the real struggle for any author is grasping the ideas, and placing them in the right context, which explains the maddening state we try our best to conceal. My rat trap is my pen and notebook and I always keep them around; in my pocket, on my table, and even on my bed when I have to go to sleep, just in case some scratchy noises wake me up at night and I needed to set a trap very quickly.

I have reviewed my recent life and found out how different I’ve become since I started writing, behavioral and habitual divergence from my former self influenced by the lifestyle changes to keep up with the mice in my head. I am crazy, but it is the good kind, the kind that you know you are mad, and you wish you can fall deeper if it meant you would get your artistic soul nourished.

But do you know what’s more illogical? Having ideas that you really believe in, and not share them with the world… now that would drive you to real madness.

Be creative, be happy, be with purpose.

 

~ A. H. Amin

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Always wright your writing skills, it’s the right rite…

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‘The moment we stop learning we start dying’ ~ (Michael Scott)

Do you start doing push-ups? Do you climb stairs holding two buckets of water? What means are there to weld a proper skill for a writer to gain?

Let’s start by reading, shall we? And by that I don’t mean what’s next I’ll be typing in particular, I mean really reading. Books, novels and novella. Reading a lesson is one thing, learning it is another. There are a lot of power points you can pick from reading, but you have to know what to pick up. The best gift you can gain from reading is your own writing style, trying not to copy an author’s but instead, try to learn how would you make it differently? How a scene can be better instead? What was the negative and how can you change it? Too little description or too much?
My advice is to read both old and new novels, old stories because, let’s face it, most of them are really good, the reason why I truly believe that is because, unlike today, there were no easy edits and other perks that came with the computers, instead they used pens and typewriters…. In other words, writing was really a tiresome process, so most authors won’t write unless they have something really good to offer. Reading new novels is essential for a good reason; to learn how writing has evolved, for the old writing styles were there for their own era.
So let’s see… How else an author sharpens his/ her writing edge? Well… Does a runner train by walking? My point is, write… Keep writing, read what you wrote as a harsh critic, and re-write what you wrote.
Here is something I posted previously that hopefully will shed more light on the art of writing.
My writing advices.

The Journey Back

So my seven days leave from work is over and I had to go through the thing I hate most, which is going through the day before my departure, a day I really despise and it have always made me feel as a death-row inmate waiting for the electric chair… But at least I got my last meal, they made one of my favorite; puff pastry chicken. My youngest brother is in Canada doing his masters in mechanical engineering, which means I am now the youngest one available… Which also means I am the family’s Geisha. So they decided to take advantage of me on my last day. Got to get my nephew from his kindergarten, which was cool, I always enjoy riding with him.

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I look like a fly… I always go tropical on vacations

I was on my very early flight, and midway through my boring trip, I looked up as I sighed… You know… One of those “I’m getting too old for this…. Stuff” kind of sighs?… When I came across this…

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Hmmm… If I was crashing, I would be glad to know where that vest is… So why would they put that up where I can’t see it?? I know they always show us those instructions video… But I was too tired, I slept through the take off. Also, I was sitting next to the emergency exit, so the vest must be available on the spot, because I don’t want to be the first one to drown… No… That would be embarrassing.
A thought came at the time… Maybe it is the right place to tell us where the vest is… No, let explain!! You see… You are falling… Fast, wishing you sat next to someone named Jack (those who watched Lost and understood me… Gracias) feeling your cheeks meeting with each other behind your back (and I’m not saying which cheeks I’m talking about) you would look up and say ‘oh god oh god oh god’… Then suddenly… A sign… Life vest under your seat. So?? Pretty convincing. I glanced in front of me and saw that the same was written but it was in Arabic and not like the one above me… The same scenario replayed but with a different ending.
‘Oh god oh god oh god’ looks up.. Can’t read Arabic ‘no no.. I meant Allah…’ Pooof… Plane explodes for no reason. 🙂
What if it was made from China and it was written in Chinese?? Well if it was made in China then it won’t matter… I am just kidding, I have the greatest respect for every culture… But you have no idea how boring my flight was.

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Does that makes me a Wing-man?

Now I am back, working again on my third novel, waiting for the cover design for the second book in my series and still in the search for an agent. My book will hopefully be out in the summer. My intern is almost at its end. So starting from tomorrow, I will be back in the clinics.
I hope you enjoyed my bit on how my journey ends, and how another starts. Wish me luck… I can never get enough of it.

~ A. H. Amin