2014 was a year of challenges for me. I had just finished high school and it was officially time to make big decisions for my future. At that time, it was already around three years since I’ve seriously started writing and mainly, all I wanted from life was to have a tiny room, preferably pen and paper and everyone else to keep their distance from me. I wanted to be a writer, you see. I did not want to deal with life outside of my tiny room and imagination. Not because I hated life (no one hates life, trust me), but because I had no idea what to do about it.
At first, as I thought, my life worked. I lived in a box and I was foam-mouth to protect it from any kind of intrusion. Many years went by like one. I discovered with pain in the heart, that all I was truly doing was...
A few months ago I took a very important decision. I decided to take my first in years, month off writing and use the time to recharge my personal resources. It was not easy, especially the first week. I was anxious and wired to the same thought that I was wasting my time. Each day I seemed to became more doubtful about the whole idea, walking close to the edge to stop it all and return my butt back to work. Writing always meant a lot to me, and taking a whole month off felt like a betrayal.
I heard about the importance of systematic vacation a lot, but as most of the people, I was rather skeptical about it. Those who take lots of vacations will hardly achieve anything in their lives, I thought. Besides, if you love what you’re doing, you have nothing to vacate from, hav...
When I say the hardest and lowest paying job, what do you imagine? Maybe, a stiff office without conditioner in the middle of a desert, or a hell kitchen with Gordon Ramsay’s doppelganger shouting and throwing fat beef onto heated oily pan right at your side? Whatever it is, I assure you, my version of the hardest and lowest paying job is something else.
This summer, I decided to change my routine and for some reasons, the idea to change my routine brought me to the idea to sign myself to the most tiring and emotionally draining job of my life. I became the youngest of six women in a farm workers squad.
Each day, we would start our donkeywork at 6 early a.m. and keep working nonstop till afternoon. Under blazing sun, we would carefully gather cucumb...
Okay, my current WIP is not about a world where Death does not exist. What a senseless world it would be where no one dies, right? But the story is close on the tail of ‘what if there was someone who would be able to defeat Death for good and maybe, if lucky enough, to bring all the dead back to life? Would not it be fun to have dead risen from their graves and turned back to their homes and families?
Mmm, and while you're trying to imagine it, here is my little POEM inspired by this 'possible' world.
I remember good days like a vague outline of the bridge which I enter on the days, dark like night sky.
It affects my writing. It affects me. It affects people, I care about. And even though there is no way to dispel clouds from life once and for all, there is still a way to help yourself stay on both feet in the storm of dark days.
Journaling yourself out of anything!
I was 10 years old when I first met people involved in business, self-development, mental/physical health and all of them in one voice were telling about the power of journaling. I was so wired up with their energy and even though I was just a ten years old girl and hardly could tell if I needed to journal myself out of anything (I was writing in my diary sometimes, but most of the ...
I have too many flaws to live a passive life if such kind of life can be called a living.
All goes according to the plan!
I repeated this phrase so many times that even walking blindly ahead started taking a shape of some plan. I did not have plan though, not really. I just had a list of things next to the list of books ‘to read in 2020’ and my willingness to take one tiny step after another tiny step towards something more meaningful.
You will be surprised to know that most of the things I had on that list turned out to be so easy that I still catch myself laughing thinking about them.
Signing for one-hour session with a psychologist was one of those ‘turned to be so easy’ things.
When I started writing QV, which is my debut novel, I had this vague and at the same time clear picture of what the story was about.
It was about Death. Love. Unethical (in some way) Science. Friendship. Hopes. Dreams. Secrets. Family Dramas. Human spirit. Mysteries. It was all about world that existed on the bones of another world.
The motto – what dead is dead, was not working anymore in that new world on the pages on my book.
But you know how it is with stories. They come in dozens. Some leave without even as much as a hi, some stay. This one came as a storm, out of nowhere it shook the clear sky above my head. I grabbed it without thinking. I was sure I could see the story as clear as I never saw any story before. But what a tricky thing. It...