Tag Archives: Literature

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Silencing Your Inner Critic

This is a blog post I wrote for The Dragon’s Rocketship, a Sci-Fi/Fantasy group for authors, artists, readers, and all around fans located here:

On the web –  http://thedragonsrocketship.com

and

On Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/groups/1420653414841740/

 

Silencing Your Inner Critic
By S.J. Wolff

How many times have you looked at your work, rolled your eyes, sighed heavily and thought, “Oh boy, I suck at this”?

Too many. Right?

Don’t worry. You are not alone. We all have that little niggling, good-for-nothing voice pushing us down. No matter how skilled you are as an artist, a writer or overall creative soul this voice exists.

Why? We are not born into this world not believing in ourselves or our talents. We are not brought into this world with an awareness that we can fail. If we feared failure, would we stand up for the first time? Take those first hesitant steps forward learning to walk? No, we wouldn’t. We learn to walk because we have no one telling us that it is dangerous and we shouldn’t bother. We aren’t afraid. We know nothing of failure. This fear didn’t come from within. So, just where did this self-denigrating voice come from? It came from without. Someone somewhere in our life implanted this wicked little naysayer into our psyche where it then took root and has grown in the shadows ever since. While we’re looking over what we’ve created self-doubt opens the door for this shadow from our past to slink through. And boy does it wreak havoc when it does. It plays with our minds and tricks us into believing things that are not true. The longer we go with this voice calling to us from the darkness, the more we question our ability to create something of worth.

So, step one in conquering and dispelling the voice in the shadows is to shed some light on it.

We must identify the Voice so we can understand why it holds sway over us and take away its power.
The people around us, our relatives, friends, teachers all form our opinions of self-worth. They give us context for where we belong and what is valuable within us. Often times, without realizing it, they also give us baggage.

Some examples from my own life:

“You’re a slow learner.” (Teacher)

“You can’t accomplish without someone else’s help.” (Teacher)

“You talk just to hear yourself talk.” (Mother)

And perhaps the most damaging for my creative psyche, “Why do you waste so much time doodling with writing when you could be doing something more important? It’s a wonderful hobby but what are you going to do for real?” (Mother)

Now, I know you’ve all probably heard some semblance of that last one. Someone who told you that writing or your art is a great little hobby but not something that is “real”. But, all of these type of negative comments feed our wicked, false, and tricksy internal opportunist who is always looking for an opening to knock us down to size.

Think back. Who in your life could have triggered this voice in you? There may be one person or a few. It might have been while you were a child or while you were an adult. The only constant is that this voice is the voice of someone whose opinion mattered to you in some way.

Write down who they are and what they said to you. Stare at the words on the paper and understand, these are the words you have been wielding against yourself all the years forward from that moment in time when they were uttered by another person. These ARE NOT your words. Disown them. Disassociate with them. Separate them from who you are.

Now on to step two – Replace These Negative Words with New Positive Ones, either by you or by those who have encouraged you.

Where I had a teacher who said negative things that stuck with me, I remembered a teacher who was dearer to me than the first. At the time, her words were ignored in favor of the negative ones. I can’t tell you why. Perhaps it was because at home I was hearing the same negative type comments so this teachers comments rang “true” to me. Now, as an adult I realize there was only one person who’d tried to make a difference in my writing life. The others are the voices that have held me back from where I needed to be.

So, hers is the voice I replaced the others with.

Make a list of positive things people around you have said to you or about you. Replace the negatives with their voices.

Every time your internal critic tricks you into uttering, “I suck at this. Why do I even try,” stop it cold and replace it with, “A writer writes. It is who I am and who I’m meant to be. I learn from my mistakes and get better every day.”

Don’t fear your inner critic. Learn to control it. Self-doubt is natural. Critiquing one’s own work is necessary because without it we do not improve. But, there is a difference between critiquing your work and allowing it to move into self-flagellation. When the thoughts whispering through your mind are no longer constructive, when they tread on your talent with steel spiked boots leaving impressions that will only grow deeper, then it is time for the cycle to come to an end.

Butterflies and Books

We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty.
~ Maya Angelou ~

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A blurb to remember

After much hemming and hawwing, I finally came to terms with the fact that my blurb just wasn’t good enough. So, instead of having another go at it and forcing the issue I let my main character take a whack at it. This is what came of it:

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~The Dagger of Aita: Retribution~

Throughout history we have been here. Born of the union between the Watchers and the Daughters of Men, our human hearts pump the blood of Angels through our veins. Yet, we are neither human nor Angel. We are the Alimentatori, descendants of the divine, and this is just the beginning…

In my two-hundred and sixty three years I have witnessed much, yet nothing could have prepared me for the devastating murder of my brother, Julian. While he lies in stasis awaiting The Release, his killer roams the Lazio region of Italy free to seek other victims. But, all is not right behind the veil of this ancient landscape. Its beauty hides a world of ancient secrets, hidden agendas and political intrigues. In order to extract my vengeance, I must first play a dangerous game according to another’s rules. Unfortunately for them, playing by the rules has never been my forte. Toppling a game-board or two would suit me just fine. Regardless of the dangers that lie ahead, Retribution will be mine. My name is Jacen Trudeau of the House of Samsaveel and I’m about to open Pandora’s Box.

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Once More Into The Fray!

Hello Everyone!

I know. I know! I’ve been conspicuously absent from my blog for the past…well, never mind. No excuses. I’m back now and ready to have some blogging fun. 

I have spent the last few months wallowing. Yes, you understood that correctly. I’ve been wallowing in a kind of funky melancholy that had me wondering if I was ever going to come out the other side. 

Well, I did and I actually wrote something that might hold promise. If I pursue it I’m thinking it might be a Young Adult. I’ve decided to post a little tidbit here just to prove I did it.

So, here we go…

 

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      The sun set sinking ever downward until it gently kissed the distant horizon. Just before dipping below the surface of the water, the sky exploded into a brilliant blaze of rusty oranges and yellows. The last vibrant rays of summer shot across the ever darkening sky fighting against the inevitable extinguishing of the light only to be snuffed out moments later as darkness finally reigned.

      I picked up the last chair on the over-sized patio, overturned it and slid it into place on top of a stark white table.  Leaning forward, I crossed my arms over the underside of the chair. The night air washed over me with a soothing, gentle touch cooling the sunburn which had turned my cheeks a ruddy hue. With the breeze came the distant forlorn cries of a gull, not unfamiliar on the shores of Lake El’Ganah, yet the sound seemed lonely as it echoed over the water. An involuntary shiver coursed down my spine.  A sad, half smile touched my lips.

       I know exactly how he feels.

       I pushed myself up and brushed my hands together. The remnants of white sand, gritty between my palms, scratched along the callused surfaces. Absently, I rubbed my thumb against the worst of the hardened skin. The constant reminder of where I came from would assure no one would ever mistake me for an Ul’ran. Their precious hands would never bear the brunt of hard labor. In silent reflection, I spread the fingers of my right hand wide and stared at the various creases lining my palm. The rising moon lit the surface shadowing the valleys of the deepest folds. With my other hand, I touched the longest of them, running a finger from one end to the other. 

       Sometime ago, I’d heard of a traveling woman. I’d never met her but, from what other’s had said, she could look into the lines.  They told her things about you, your life, your love.  What would she have told me? A familiar pang of longing constricted my chest. Curling my fingers into a tight fist, I released a long, drawn out sigh then glanced around the patio to assure I was still alone. With a quick, self-conscious flurry, I dropped both hands to my sides and wiped them briskly against my tattered shirt. It didn’t matter. If such a person existed they would have nothing to tell me that I didn’t already know.

       You’re born. You serve. You breed. You die. It was the way of our kind. To Dream of anything different was futile. That is what comes from being born Nemh’ Erisant, Beyond the Wall.

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A Better Blurb

Hello All!

I’ve been working the last couple of days to create a better blurb for my Amazon.com listing. I think I have finally managed to come up with something that works.

What do you think?

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Throughout history we have been here. We were born of the union between the Watchers and the Daughters of Men. Our human hearts pump the blood of Angels through our veins yet, we are neither of one nor the other. Neither human nor Angel. We are the Alimentatori, descendants of the divine, and this is just the beginning…

In my two-hundred and sixty three years I have witnessed much, yet nothing could have prepared me for the devastating murder of my brother, Julian. While he lies in stasis awaiting The Release, his killer roams the Lazio region of Italy free to seek other victims. But, all is not right behind the veil of this ancient landscape. Its beauty hides a world of ancient secrets, hidden agendas and political intrigues. In order to extract my vengeance, I must first play a dangerous game according to another’s rules. Playing by the rules has never been my forte; toppling a game-board or two would suit me just fine! Regardless of the dangers that lie ahead, Retribution will be mine.

My name is Jacen Trudeau of the House of Samsaveel and I’m about to open Pandora’s Box. 

~~~~~

 

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Retribution is mine…

I have a new blurb I’m thinking of putting on to my listing for Amazon. What do you all think?

Throughout history we’ve been here. Men and women whose genetic make-up is the stuff of Angels. Born of the union between the Watchers and the Daughters of Men my kind have given up the one thing that set us apart from the humans…our wings. Now hidden in plain sight, neither human nor Angel, we live secluded secret lives appearing as human as the man who sells you groceries or the woman who walks your dog.

I am no different. I am Jacen Trudeau of the House of Samsaveel. Like my people I have fought for my existence. When just a child, I survived a deadly attack which took the lives of my parents. Their loss drew my brother, Julian and I closer than we’d ever been. He cared for me, guided me through life, and wanted nothing more than to restore our family name. We were well on our way to fulfilling his dream when he was taken from me, murdered by a walking, talking urban legend on the night of his Ascension.

I was much too young to seek vengeance for my parents, but my brother’s killer won’t be so fortunate. A beast or no, they will die by my hand.

Though my world may never be right again, retribution is mine.

 

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It Has Begun…

That’s right!
The Cyber Monday Countdown Sale has begun!!
Get the Kindle E-book version of The Dagger of Aita: Retribution for just .99 cents! But, that price won’t last long! So, hurry on over and pick it up before the price goes up!
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I write like…

the-writer2

Today I came across a neat little text analyzer. You put in a portion of text and it compares it to well known authors, analyzes it and tells you who you most closely resemble in writing style, word choice, etc.

I decided to test my mettle against world famous authors and see where I landed. I went to me first book, Retribution, and pulled out the first two pages of text and ran it through the analyzer. It came out as Arthur C. Clarke. Not sure if it was just a random thing, I clicked on the analyze new text and put the same text back in two more times. Each time it came out Arthur Clarke. Well, I knew that my style of writing changed within the books (as I got more comfortable with the characters and world I’d created) so I decided to do an experiment. I took text from the middle of my book and the end of it as well. Ran each piece through the analyzer and repeated it three times just like I had with the beginning portion. Each portion…the middle and the end…came out with Neil Gaiman.

In the beginning I wrote like Arthur C. Clarke, which I am absolutely fine with. Nothing wrong with him! Then something changed. Maybe I relaxed into my writing or was so immersed into the world I’d created I let go. Whatever it was, my inner Neil Gaiman came out.

So, my take away from this….if you like Arthur C. Clarke and Neil Gaiman you’ll love my work! 😉

I write like Neil Gaiman. Proof: http://iwl.me/s/68c65cc

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Back to School Special ~ FREE Sat., Sun., and Mon.

The Dagger of Aita: Retribution

Happy Labor Day Weekend Peeps!

To celebrate it and the fact that my youngest heads back to school this week, I am having a FREEBIE special on book one of my Dagger of Aita series! YES! That’s right! This weekend you can download a kindle copy of my book for FREE!

So, are you ready for a read that will transport you to a world where the Alimentatori and Cambiare walk amongst humans? Don’t know what the Aliments and Cambiare are? Then perhaps you should find out and download the book now!  🙂

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To speak or not to speak…

So this week I had someone pestering me, as apparently he feels it is his turn in the limelight.  Dante, the head of a Cambiare “Glaring” decided he would like to have a word with all of you. Unfortunately, I’m sorry Dante. I cannot allow you to have free reign and do as you will no matter how much you beg for a chance to speak.

Why, you might ask, won’t I let Dante address you? Well instead I’ve decided to let you, the reader, in on a little secret.

I am an organic  writer. I don’t use an outline. I don’t know the exacts of where my story is going or even how it’s going to get there. I sit down, slip on the persona and let go. My characters tell their stories and I am merely the one who types it in. It is my lot in life to be their conduit but as such, I also know that there are certain characters I cannot trust, who will take a mile if I give them an inch. Dante is a glorious character but his history, his life, is integral to the telling of Jace’s story. Allowing him his moment  to shine will surely give away far too much about what is to come. So, though he has much to tell you, he will keep his silence and remain a mystery. As time marches on you will have the opportunity to fully explore who he is and what makes him tick. But for now, suffice it to say, Dante is dark, dangerous and larger than life. He is a hero, a villain, and the one person you’d want on your side during a fight to the death. He loves hard, plays hard, and has a confidence that sets most people back on their heels.

Are you woman enough to be his lover? Are you man enough to be his friend?

Only time will tell…