Magic!

Ok so I know I haven't written here for a while but the truth is I've been super busy during the week and then on the weekend I took some much needed time off from the computer and from my every day life in general.

I have a few posts coming up, one of them on League of Legends (and how I am bullied on there for being a girl) and another on some exciting news about my writing (yay!) but this post will be about my weekend and about how awesome Magic is.

Magic? You ask? Well I mean Magic the Gathering, of course.

Oh yes I spent the whole weekend playing Magic the Gathring with one of my best friends, Steffi and my wonderful boyfriend. And yes, girls do kick butt in magic and we look good doing it. Don't believe me? Well take a look for yourself:

So yes, we went into a clothing shop before going to the magic store and pimping out our decks. I am currently holding a vampire deck and well I am pimping it out to basically make sure I kill my boyfriend every single time we play. 

Work outfit and make up

I was feeling inspired by Snow White and the Huntsman today. As I have mentioned before (and will probably mention a lot) I am broke. This means my clothing and make up options tends to be limited to hand me downs and drugstore make up. While this can be frustrating sometimes it doesn't mean I can't look nice and be geeky.

So, I was feeling flirty and dark today and this is what I ended up wearing on my face and body for work. Oh and in case anyone's wondering that is my mother's place and yes... she already has it decorated for Christmas. I should do a post on my geeky tiny, tiny little home.

Boromir Vs. Ned Stark?

Who'd win that fight? Mtv asked George R.R. Martin and he gave it to... < br/>

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Discouraged

Let me step into the soap box for a moment... I have some whining to do.

After investigating more about publishing my stories I have become thoroughly discouraged by certain articles about the kind of writing I do. I know I am not the best writer in the Universe but I have some talent... and then there was The Hunger Games. Now, I don't mind the series at all but I am not a huge fan either. Partly because it seems like something I would have read when I was much younger and much less versed in the dystopian genre. It is a good series but to be honest? Not very innovative in my humble perspective.

But whether I like the books or not is not the point. The point is that thanks to The Hunger Games getting a dystopian novel is more or less an 'uphill battle' or so some people say. So, you can imagine that this is a bit crushing to me. I almost feel like not writing at all anymore even if my stories don't look at all like The Hunger Games series. While they focus on one thing I focus my stories completely differently but... I am still a one time published author who hasn't published anything in the sci-fi/dystopian genre. I just seems to have missed my time to publish something. Of course this might just be me reacting dramatically (I'm a writer... I'm used to drama) but see... Writing is my one way ticket out of not only the poverty state I find myself in (yes, I live bellow poverty line) but it's my one true passion. Writing fiction is the one constant I've had in my life... nothing even comes close to it in longevity or loyalty. It's the one thing that can (and has, on many occasions) save me. I am not the best at it but boy do I love it.

Now it just seems like I find yet another stone in my path, another bridge to cross, another hurdle to jump... Sometimes you get so many of those that it becomes so discouraging.

I wonder if George R.R. Martin ever felt like this when he was thinking of writing Game of Thrones or J.K. Rowling while writing Harry Potter... Maybe they have? Maybe one day I'll get over this particular hurdle. Maybe I won't all I know is I just want to be a writer...

I just want to be a writer.  

May the force be with us all

I haven't adressed the news of George Lucas selling everything to Disney for simple reasons:

a) There are enough people talking about it who get way more page views than me

b) George Lucas made me cry...

I am not a believer in this and the idea of another movie being filmed and it likely not following anything that's already been writen about Star Wars is kind of heart breaking to me.

Star Wars is the reason I got back into writing. Star Wars was my first true, blue altern universe I hid in as a child. It's so important to me and I feel like it's being ruined (dramatic, I know but hey, I'm a nerd I'm allowed to be dramatic over Star Wars!).

I don't know just... I feel like something sacred to me was sold off and it's nothing more than a money business to someone out there. Of course I am not that naive to think it wasn't (specially after Eps. I, II and III) but that doesn't mean that part of me wasn't half in denial and half hoping that it would stop.

I just hope they don't completely butcher it (any more than Eps. I-III already did).

And that is all for this nerd today.

Something another writer posted

 I wanted to share this. It was written by Damian McGintleman over at his tumblr page: Medicrocity. I think this applies to every artist out there and sometimes I need to read it to remind myself of how much it applies to me.

Some Tips I Made For Arists by Medicrocity 

• Admit you have talent

No, seriously, do it. Say it right now, aloud, in front of your computer. “I am a good writer/artist/musician/singer/whatever.” Just admit it to yourself. Because I swear when you do, your work will become better. You’d be amazed at what you can produce when you feel confident in your abilities.

• Stop comparing yourself to other people

“I’ll never be as good of a writer as Hemmingway/Bronte/Rawling!”, “I’ll never sing like Adele/Florence Welch/Joan Jett!”, “I’ll never paint like Picasso/van Goh/O’Keefe!”, “I’ll never draw like Davis/McCracken/MacFarlane!”, “I’ll never play like Hendrix/King/Cooder!”

No. You won’t. You will never, ever be as good as them. And they will never be as good as you. Every artist is unique. You have your own voice just like they had their own voice. Don’t try to be someone else; be you.

• Be proud of your work

Wrote a shitty poem? Song? Manuscript? Paint something you didn’t like? Drew something wrong? Who. The hell. Cares? At least you DID something! That’s more than most people can say! You finished a piece of work. Be proud of that accomplishment.

• Realize that not everything you do will be great

This ties in with the previous tip. You’re going to do shitty things. It’s part of being an artist. Stop putting so much pressure on yourself to create something great every time. Strive for it, sure, it SHOULD be your goal. But realize that sometimes you’re just going to do something that sucks, and then get over it and try to do better the next time.

• Be proud of your talent and enjoy it

I’m a writer and my best friend is a singer. I can’t tell you how many times we’ve told each other that we wished we had the others’ talent. This is a typical “grass is always greener” thing. Be proud of what you’re good at and enjoy it, because someone out there is wishing they were as good as you, I guarantee it.

Presentation today...

It's been a tough week for me (and it's only what? Wednesday? Oh my). I've had a lot of things to turn in (including a short story for my creative writing class) and a lot of work to do both at home and for the University. Oh and not to mention how sick I've been so... really, really hectic.

Well today I had a presentation to do and if I didn't do good I might have actually failed a class. Or more like I would have failed a class (this presentation was 100% of my grade). Needless to say I had my game face on. I m not used to failing (in fact I have yet to fail a test in my entire life) and I wasn't going to fail this. I was sick and tired and stressed out but I decided to impress in every sense of the word.

Now, as a student I am poor and well my boyfriend is also a student and he's poor too. This means I have no money to spend on clothes most of the time and oh, did I mention I live in Venezuela where the inflation is higher than the percentage of hipsters that visit star bucks on a daily basis? Yes, it's that bad. So, really I have no clothes. Okay, I'm lying, I have clothes but not a lot of really nice clothes. Most of my clothes actually comes from my mother and sister when they stop fitting them so by the time they get to me they are worn and not very nice. I don't mind too much... I am grateful, actually. Except on days I have important presentations.

But! Thank my lucky stars my mother gave me a gorgeous shirt the other day. Seriously nice and fancy looking (for me). The perfect color for my skin too! Just perfect so, I decided to wear it today and I felt like a million bucks! Wanna see?

Don't I look lovely!? I know I do, thanks. Oh and that presentation? I got an outstanding mention... aka I aced that mother! Yay! One step closer. 

Disclaimer: before anyone asks how I could afford an iPhone while being broke? I didn't, it was a present from my uncle because my little old 2007 Nokia flip phone died 5 days before my birthday. I am a lucky girl that way. 

Opening my horizons

After much thought I've decided to spread my blog out a little to make sure I can write about more than just my writing. I am a lot of things other than a want to be author and, even though that will be the main focus of this blog, it won't be the only thing discussed.

I will be honest and say I lack time for writing because I am in the middle of graduating from 6 years of schooling. Most of my days are spent making sure this happens in a timely manner and writing sometimes takes a back burner. It doesn't mean it's not present seeing as my studies are 90% reading/writing but it's not in the creative sense. For example today I turned in a 10 page paper and am turning in a 5 page paper tomorrow and a 60 page paper next week... Not to mention my 100+ page dissertation I am working on. So yes, I write a lot, sadly it's not always as creative as I'd hope but it's there...

Also, I am trying to let more about me be known. And lets face it... I am a big fat geek and love it. Oh yes, I am known as a Star Wars wiki and well I'm been a geek and nerd all my life. I don't mind and this is an important part of me so I will include that here too.

So, basically, nothing too out there or crazy but there's a  lot to include about me other than just my writing in a creative fashion.

I hope this makes sense and helps me expand and learn more from my writing.

Love,

M

Pain...

((warning, there is a lot of whining about to happen))

Seriously... some days I am so sick of being sick that I just want to lay in bed and cry. Cry until the pain goes away. Except it won't so I put on my big girl panties and carry on. I can't stop for pain, I can't stop living, I can't stop breathing and I can't throw myself in my bed and cry over it forever. 

But I want to, so badly. 

I know I haven't been writing about writing too much but I have been writing and I will be submitting to magazines soon. The thing is sometimes my hands hurt so much I just want to stop... give up and give in because this is, sadly, my life. I get like that a lot, depressed I mean... Specially when I see people and they are accomplishing so much and I am here, wishing I could afford a 30 dollar purse and maybe a nice notebook to jot down my thoughts. Some days I feel so defeated that all I do is... fantasize of a better life. 

That's just it though... I spend so much time fantasizing that that is what makes me know I can make it as a writer. Oddly enough I haven't had a doubt I can make it. I know if I just do it I can. Then maybe I'll be able to afford better medications for these ills? I hope so. 

I have a presentation today and tomorrow work... I need to put on those big girl panties and go get these things done. 

Ugh I am in so much pain. 

Maybe I'll write about it. 

The end of the world

I was watching a movie with my boyfriend last night about the end of the world  (In fact it is called Seeking a Friend for the End of the World). In this movie Steve Carrell and Kiera Knightley are doing exactly that, trying to find a friend for the end of the world and they realize that, even though they were neighbors they never had spoken to each other and were each other's one true love (or OTP as my tumblr friends would say).

Anyway, what really got to me about this movie was the ending... The world does end. No, that's not a spoiler and it's a surprise either (or shouldn't be) because it's the basis of the movie, really. It's right there in the title! And yet my mind is so codified to end of the world movies by Hollywood that I kept thinking they might survivie.... The protagonist always survives, damn it! But nope, this time the world really does end and everyone dies. It's a beautiful film with ups and downs, highs and lows but in the end it got me thinking about myself and my life and what would I truly regret if the world was about to end. Truth is I have been a goiod girl most of my life and I do not regret that. I don't regret not questioning authority, going to bed early (or late), doing my homeworkd, being on time for class, never skipping a class. I wouldn't regret not drinking or smoking or having one night stands (I'd be proud of these things. actually). Nor would I regret my Star Wars obsession or my need to know more about everything. Not dressing sexy? Wouldn't regret that either... I have a good relationship with my parents, both of them and my siblings and most of myu family. None of that would lay heavy on my mind (of course I'd love to spend more time with my family but wouldn't most of us). I fell in love, did silly things, went to the beach, had fun...

In fact, once I got to thinking on it, my life has been good and I've made sure of it. Damn good really. So what? What would be my one regret if say tomorrow was the end of the world (isn't that the theme for mostr sci-fi too?).

I could only find two:

1. I never saw snow.
2. I never published a book.

And truth be told these are relatively simple things, aren't they? I mean, seeing snow is easier than you'd think in South America and I could see it and I haven't. I've always wanted to see snow and yet here I am at 25 still trying to imagine what it's like. I will see snow, you'll see.

As for publishing a book... the more I think on it the more I realize that that is what I was born to do... Now it's time for me to accept it. Yes, it's scary and yes it's going to be hard and take a lot of work but today is the first day I am bringing my notebook with me and I will write ideas down as they come and hopefully sooner rather than later I will come to you with good news... I've been published and hey wouldn't you like to cross out something from your end of the world list?

Oh and yes, I was paranoid after watching that movie and I looked up the likelyhood of a meteor the size of the Dinosaur killer hitting us and was pleasently surprised =)

Take care and remember, nothing is for sure tomorrow, miht as well take the initiative to start today,

M.

Overwhelmed

You know that feeling? That feeling you get when you know you should be getting something done and yet you're either too scared or stressed out to do it? I have that right now about everything in my life. School, writing, cooking, cleaning, washing... All of it needs to get done. No, not right now, not tomorrow, but it needs to get done and I'm stressed out because it needs to get done. I just have this... overwhelmed feeling. 

At school I'm doing alright so far... no bad grades, no but not amazing grades. The thing is that the thesis is looming over me and I don't want to go there... I don't want to do it, I don't want to get it done. In part it's because I don't want to graduate and go out in the real world and work and part of it it's because 'm scared of not doing it correctly. I don't know it's just very overwhelming. The rest of school is fine... just... school, I guess. 

House work is just not getting done. I lack motivation and then it piles up. I am a very anal person when I am motivated and will clean this place to an inch of it's life but right now? I will admit I've gone to bed with dirty plates in my sink... The horror. Oh and I left the house without making my bed almost every day last week... blah. 

Writing... I've never been more scared to write in my life. This always happens the moment I start writing to show other people. I get scared and I start thinking I am not good enough. Ever since I started with the realization I want to write I absolutely stopped. It's the fear I know is reeling it's ugly head and telling me I won't make it, ever. I'm not good enough and I know the moment I submit my work and it doesn't get published I will be devastated. The thing is that this is it for me... My way out, my salvation, my passion and I can be told 'you suck' and wow isn't that scary? It is very scary for me. Oh and I've been so stressed with school and work and having no money and no time that writing is just not happening either. I wish I could sit here and write but then I feel like every time I do it means I am taking time from my other responsibilities. I'm just not able to function lately... 

Well, this would be a sad entry if I didn't add a solution to my problems, huh? And I do have the solution it's just a question of following it every single day... 

I need to rebuild my schedule. Yes... And I need my agenda functional again!

I need to make time for writing and make time for school and work and life and fun. I need to make time to get my life back on track. No more of this overwhelmed feeling and time to get organized (again). 

Lets hope this works... I plan to submit my first story for publishing come January. I will do this. Even if the answer is a no I will submit a story for publishing no later than January 3rd. Wish me luck. 

I've been very ill

Which is why I haven't been on here too much. I will hopefully be back full-time on Monday.

What a scary thought...

I need to face the music and get this done. I need to write... I need to attempt a publishing.

I need to because if I don't I never will.

I need to because I know that if I don't do it now I'll never do it.

I need to because I have to prove myself wrong... I can do this.

I need to because I am not getting any younger.

I need to because I will never know unless I try.

I need to because that way I will stop nwriting entries like this.

It's raining outside... and no, this was not an attempt at poetry.

Promise.

Just a thought...

I have deep, deep admiration for human beings that can write when they are angry... Anything I manage to write in this state is pure amateur rubbish.

The death drive in me.

Some people see me and see my life and can't, for the life of them, figure out where my impulse to write comes from. This is actually worse once they actually read what I write... I will say it now: in my sci fi worlds there are no utopian societies and I mostly take a more misanthropic and dysthropic approach to everything I create. Whether it be painting, drawing, writing, sewing or any other sort of artistic activity I partake in (what? never met a Renaissance woman before?) it is always going to be placed in a horrible civilization where people are subjected to horrible fates in the name of a greater good.

Now, why do people become, oddly, surprised at this? Well I am more of a hippie, tofu eating, happy go lucky flower child (whom does dress in black almost every day) than a punk rock goddess... Weird isn't it? So where in the world does this... death impulse come from? Why is my writing filled with pain, suicide, horrible fates and over all man eating technology? Believe it or not my biggest inspiration is: my carefree surroundings.

As I have mentioned before, I live in Venezuela (Caracas, to be exact) and I will not get into politics and socialism and capitalism etc but I will say that I live in the most chaotic place you could imagine, ever. There is basically no law here and people seem to not only slowly become used to it...they are okay with it. The chaos,the order, the noise, the fast pace, the lack of law... it's in their nature now (and maybe it has always been). My sense of dysthropia comes from watching them. The Caracas' subway line is a dysthropic society all on it's own. I can't participate in this chaos willingly... I am much more death driven (Thanatos driven if you want to be post-modern about it) and they are are Eros driven... sexually driven, life driven. I don't understand it but they are. In fact I lack such an understanding for this chaos and how that can be okay that I feel like an alien here. I have routines (My boyfriend still has a hard time grasping this concept and finds it boring) and schedules (another thing people raise eyebrows at. "lets go out Mooni!" "uh.. can't I have to study from 3 to 5 today, sorry" "just do it later!" "but... I have a schedule to follow!") and it's that weirdness, in that dichotomy in which I find myself living every day of my life. The encounter of my Thanathos impulse in contrast of the Erotic impulse in those that surround me is where I find it...

It's strange, isn't it? Living in a place where dysthropia is an absent concept someone like me can find it hidden in every corner... And yet isn't that the beauty of a dysthropic society? You slowly fall into it for the mere reason that you can't see it or you ignore it... until it engulfs you and it's all you know. I believe it's societies like these (South American) that are most likely to fall into this trap... Why? not because I consider us stupid but because we're more... fighters but also complacent. As long as we have a meal safe we are "okay" and what can be more dangerous than that? Just as soon as we have a president we can have a Big Brother and we'd not even blink an eye. Hah, it could be worse... 

Oh yes, it could always be worse...

M.

The rain

Is there anything better for writing than rain? Not for me... Me and rain have a special sort of relationship. It was apparently pouring the night I was born (not strange at all for an October day in the tropics) and the rain has a calming effect on me. I'm not sure if it has anything to do with my birth but I've always like to make those connections.

I have been writing about it, in fact, for a creative writing class I am taking in school. It's supposed to be an autobiography that gets fiction elements added to it. Most of my class mates started writing cute autobiographies about how they went to school, when they met their best friend, their parents, their first love, some of their college life. When the teacher asked me to read some of mine to her she smiled and asked me how old I was (I look about uh... 15) and when I said I was 25 she quickly understood. Now, I am not saying all 19 year old people that write are amateur little twats (I know I for one didn't consider myself so) but hey, not everyone started writing seriously before the age of 10... Most people don't.

Anyway, she was surprised that I had barely if touched upon the first three months of my life for my autobiography. I based it all on the moment of my birth and the three months that followed. I wrote about pain and I wrote about rain. The two constants in my life.

I loved writing that little tid bit, however because (believe it or not, seeing as you're reading a blog about me, written by me) I hate writing about myself and my life. Mostly because between the ages of 17 and 21 I made sure I let people know how little I cared about myself. Ah yes, my teenage years were a blur I sometimes wish I could forget.

Truth is, I didn't really know who I was and what I wanted to be until very recently. I wasn't one of those teenagers with their whole future planned out from the age of 16. I had no idea who I was and what I wanted to do with my life. I felt lost and confused and just thinking about my emotions makes me cringe. So, I hate writing about me and myself (mostly because I have been known to consider myself a pathetic human being). But, upon taking the assignment of seriously writing about me I realized that it's those things (those horrible, horrible things) about me are what make me unique. Without them I would not have reached the age of 25 and been able to say: I finally know who me is. And the more I wrote the more I realized that I was able to describe the whole of me basing myself off a simple little fact: I was born into a world of physical pain and it was thundering the night I did.

If it took me 24 years of horribleness to get to the point where I can describe myself in a sentence then... I guess it was all worth it wasn't it?

How being socially awkward has helped me be a better writer

Well I was really not expecting to write this entry (but then I never really expect what I write) but the silliest thing prompted me to do so... Where I work there is a cafeteria much like a high school's cafeteria (by the way... how do people live through that horrible experience in the US though all of high school? No wonder kids start shooting each other*) and I've been eating alone there most of the time which my boss found horrible. I honestly don't mind but thought it was sweet that she would worry about me like that so, with that in mind, today I decided I was going to ask my boss if she'd like to join me for lunch. Now, for most humans this experience would go something like this.

Person 1: Oh hello Miss A? Would you like to join me for lunch today?
Person 2: Oh sure Monica, I'd love to?

But then there's me... and this is how that went.

Person 1 *looks over nervously at Miss A's desk hoping she didn't catch the stupid stare and shaking from where she is sitting... Hands shake and get cold and as Miss A turns a little Mooni's eyes advert before they can catch Miss A's. Mooni thinks to herself "come on girl you can do this... She said she'd like you to join her for lunch so what's the big deal? Well of course you probably blew it now from all the STARRING you just did. What are you doing? Aren't you supposed to be working? Why are you sitting here sweating over this... GO OVER THERE AND ASK HER IF SHE'D LIKE TO HAVE LUNCH TOGETHER!!!"*

Person 2: *types at desk*

Person 1: *thinks: "okay I can do this! I will march over there and smile and ask her if she'd like to join me for lunch!" She gets up, walks over there, almost falling down with her headphone cord wrapped around her heel in the process and stammers something like this:* Oh hi Miss A! I see you're busy but were you planning on having lunch? I mean of course you were but I meant here, at the cafeteria because since you mentionedyesterdayhowyouwereworriedIwaseatingaloneIwaswonderingifyou'dliketo... eat... with me?

Person 2: *stares* uh.. Oh sure, Monica... I'll join you when lunch time comes.

Person 1: *walks away almost wanting to cry... in shame.

Now, see the difference describing that first scenario and the second one!? I do... Because I live it every day. But it isn't just that bit (the describing) that helps me write but the fact that when I write I can actually be the person I want to be. Most of my characters are not as shy and horribly hopeless as I am and me wanting that has made me an observer. I watch people be social because I can't be... but I can watch them and later on describe it. I became a people watcher out of necessity and that is one of the most important things when writing. That you have the knowledge of how people act. You've watched them and learned bits and pieces of them and thus you create stories with them.

I may not be a confident and social person but my characters can be if they wish and I have my social awkwardness to thank for that.

M

*this is a joke... I am well aware there are other complications that prompt the killing of your fellow students.

The game plan

Alright, so now that I got the introductions out of the way I will I guess... Start blogging? Sure, why not. Basically I wanted to write a post mostly to remind myself what the game plan is. Firstly, I think I should mention that I am currently getting my M.A. (last semester and about to write my dissertation) in film studies.This of course pus a damper in my writing seeing as I have to focus on that to get the darn diploma I so want. Why do I want this diploma so badly? Because I have been a scholar my entire life. My mother always has to mention this story of when I was a baby (think 2-3) and someone gifted me a backpack. She says I would put that darn thing on every single day in the morning and watch as the kids got picked up or driven to school. I sat by my window contemplating them (I'd get descriptive about it but I honestly don't remember this happening) and she says I would say with a sigh "do I get to go to school yet?". She also always follows that up by mentioning that the first day of school she cried (me, her first daughter and eldest child was going to be gone from her sight for over an hour) and I told her not to cry and waved good bye. That I do remember.

Oh yes, I'd be lying if I said I didn't need this diploma to make some good money too. I am not that silly to think that I can simply drop my entire life and hide away in my room and write until I make it. I sort of wish I could but to be honest... I cannot. So, that cuts off my time to write but that has never stopped me before and it won't stop me now. Except ow I actually need to get a game plan going, some places to send my writing to hoping someone will find them good enough... Eventually I want to try my hand at some literary contests. I have my mind set on a particular one but I don't want to let all the cards in my hand show. Partly because I am scared that if I say it I'll never do it and partly because I want it to be a surprise. Only two people other than me know about it so... hopefully it'll happen. It won't be soon but it'll happen.

Now, I know this isn't the most incredible game plan ever written but it's something and hopefully it will pay off.

Oh! I forgot to mention... I do plan to sample some of my writing here, eventually. Sometimes I write little things that I just come up with and they'll be tagged accordingly. Usually these things don't make it anywhere in my stories but hey, why not, right?

Finally, I am working on following some blogs of authors and writers trying to get published if you're one of those blogs and would like for me to follow you please let me know!

M.

You write WHAT!?

It only seems natural to follow up my introduction post with a post about the genre I specialize in. Natural because I realized (upon re-reading) that from the information given there it seems I am a "serious" writer. I assure you this is not the case with me.

I write science-fiction almost exclusively. Now, before the chucking of tomatoes starts I will assure you that I am well aware of the shortcomings of attempting to be an author for this particular genre. Yes, it is a genre more known for it's commercialism (which I see nothing wrong with by the way) than any true blue great works of art (at least in the opinion of most critics). But still... it is the genre that has always spoken to my heart. I grew up watching Alien and Neon Genesis Evangelion and well, the age of computers taking over (remember the turn of the year 2000? I was 12 at the time) oh and there was a little thing called Matrix that might have been an influence on me. Not only this but I just always seemed to gravitate toward science fiction in general. Star Wars was my favorite movie as a child and I can no longer count on my fingers how many times I have read 1984 and Brave New World.

The stories that speak to me are always those that have to do with Science fiction so... Yes, I know that it's not the most hmm... I guess you could say it's not the most well viewed genre (in fact it must fall somewhere along with writing horror) but it's the genre that speaks to me and I love it. Sure, I am not claiming to be Huxley, Kippling, Verne or anything but I do hope that what I write could mean something to someone as those gentlemen meant to me.

M.

Who are you and what is this place?

Well hello there, I guess if you're reading this you are new here and want to know who I am and what this is about. I hope to somewhat answer your concerns in a few lines here.

My name is Monica but most people call me Mooni (yes, double "o" as in moo, just like the sound a cow makes) and I am a 25 year old writer currently living in Caracas, Venezuela. Seeing as this is pretty vague and cliché I will go into more about me and who I am.

I started writing ever since I could write my own name. Story telling came much sooner to me in life but writing definitely since I was about 4-5. I have never really stopped writing silly things here and there since then... Of course more serious writing occurred a bit later in life and I was published for the first (and only time) when I was 12 years old. Oddly enough, after being published I stopped actively trying to write and let that be my one and only little glory. Many teachers throughout the years have encouraged my writing and yet I refused to let myself hope for anything to come of those compliments. I know it sounds stupid but I was a particularly stupid teenager and, later in life, I seemed to have turned into a particularly scared adult. That scared part I am still working on...

Scared of what, you may ask yourself. Well... scared of failing. I never wrote again because I was scared of failing. I mean, sure I was complimented by teachers but what made me special? What makes me able to succeed while many others don't? They have talent (I am still working on admitting I do too) and they have drive and yet not all make it in the end. So why me? What could I possibly offer the world that many others have not? Truth is I don't know the answer to those things and I don't know if I will ever actually succeed at this... But! There is one thing I do know and that is that I've never been happier in my life than when I've been writing.

Writing was my escape, writing has been my way of communicating with the world and, as someone with the inability to fully vocalize her own emotions, the one true way I've been able to let people know how I feel. It is my one true way of describing the inner world I live in and it is the most wonderful thing I could offer the world.

So, this is my journey. My journey toward trying to get published, my journey trying to come to terms with accepting that I am putting myself out there and knowing I want to succeed doing this for the rest of my life.

One can't live their life always being scared...

M.