Raising Teens

Raising teens is HARD HARD HARD. Don't look at me. I'm not here to give you answers. I don't know how to do it either because, hey, I'm here for the first time too and I'm still learning. Surprisingly, or not, the only thing I've learned so far is that these teens could surprise me, humble me even, if only I ... listen.
Seriously. It’s that simple.
If they feel comfortable confiding in you, that's a big fat bonus. Use that trust well.

Raising teen means we need to put on our coaching jersey. You don't get to play the game with them every time, but you can still watch them play and yell out a few pointers from the side field every now and then.

We need to be more their friend and less their dictator. Putting an arm around their shoulders works much better than putting chains around their ankles.

I remember a saying from Buddha. It goes like this : If you hold them too tight, they'll choke. You hold them too loose, they'll run wild without direction.

A good wisdom 😊

#amwriting

Just the other day, I’ve overwhelmed myself with the stress of having launched a book.

What kind of promotion I should do next, how to maximize sales, what to do with negative reviews, why my brain seems to stop functioning when it comes to writing, where the hell is my royalty payment, what to do with my backlog titles, whether or not I should keep writing children’s books or branch out to other genres, traditional publishing vs. self pub, why can't I shake off this writers block WTH, it’s so difficult to write a sequel, my daily life is stealing away my writing time, my writing cave looks totally uninspiring, I have no idea what to write for my next books, what should I write for my social media, how to run a successful social media, what the other bestselling authors are doing and whether or not I should copy their moves, where the hell is my writing muse when I need her the most, what if my book sales stops, what if I run out of promotion ideas, why this blogger and that blogger haven’t replied me, how to reach more reviewers, how to edit my work, what to write, what to write, and so on, so on, so on….

I drove myself mental. I burned myself and everything around me. If someone told me that writing was a blissful profession, I would strangle that person with my teeth, claws, sword, and would so expelliarmus that person into the next century.

Writing and its yada-yada business is NOT blissful. Not even close. It’s the total opposite of blissful.

Then my husband, who has gone extremely tired with my rants and enormous self-pity, snapped at me. “My God, you’re unbelievable,” he said in his most charming tone ever. “You know how many people out there wish they could have your talent and the opportunity to share their works with the world?”

I’m glad he thinks—and believes--that my talent is a ‘real talent’. Not gonna argue with him on this. But I’m gonna argue with everything else he said.

“But, but…,” I argued with the intention to burn down the world of writers with me, “You have no idea how exhausting it is to deal with the business plan and the aftermath of creating a book. You wouldn’t know. You work in a financial institution; all you do is buy and sell and calculate a simple math equation with your calculator.”

In which he replied, “Since when your number one hobby, the one that makes you smile and fly over the rainbow, makes you this bitter? Why are you so stress over writing?”

Before I could even order my tongue to shoot acid reply at him, he added, and what he said stopped my fury dead, “Write for fun. Please, I beg you. Don’t worry too much about what to do after you finish writing it, just keep writing, good or bad, funny or suck-ass, just write for yourself.”

And it strikes me. One of the greatest authors in the world once said the same thing, too. “Write for yourself,” said J. K. Rowling.

My husband, a non-artistic person, shares the same thought as J. K. Effing Rowling. Who is the writer in da house, really, me or him?

So I force myself to calm down.

Of course my husband is right.

Write for yourself.

Write for fun. Don’t worry, the rest would follow.

Write for fun, guys, #amwritingforfun!

Are you?

*****

My New Adult Contemporary novel MY LEA is availabe at  

Amazon
Kobo
B&N
iBooks

Scribd

 

Psst. Now, that we establish that ground #amwritingforfun rule, would you add my book to your TBR pile? 

*winks, bats eyelashes, smiles angelically*

I run a goodreads giveaway from now until April 24^th, 2015. You can enter here

 

Haters Gonna Hate; Frauds Gonna Cheat

You know that saying If someone betrays you once it’s their fault; if they betray you second it’s your fault?

If I were to be judged by that saying alone, I would obviously qualified as an idiot. A certified ISO10000 idiot.

I’ve been making the same mistake and having the same problem with people whom I worked with. Not all, a few of them only. Different set of people, but more or less the same problem. Let’s face it, there are people out there who would not play fair, who would not play nice, who would deceive you, who would only come to you when they need you to do (free) favors for them—or worse, trick you to make you work for them for nothing, who would cheat, who would run away (by not answering your messages, ignoring you, giving you excuses, playing dumb, acting immature) when it was their turn to fulfill their obligation, who would disappear from the face of the earth when it was time for them to pay you. 

First time: learning experience.

Second time: still learning experience.

Third time: WTH?! WTF?! WTFF?!

Then I stumbled into this picture.

When we say we need to prioritize our goals, it also means prioritizing our battles. We need to be choosy, selective, because most of the battles with the haters, unprofessional, immature people will only slow our journey down. But it doesn’t mean we walk away and forget, guys. Experience is there to teach us something, to make us a better person.

My husband told me that every time he crossed path with haters or fraud people, he would Like their hate post on Facebook, would RT their hate tweets. He said it drove them crazy because, what the hell, man? I’m trying to insult/trick/take advantage of you and you, what, like me?

Ha. Ha.

Anyway, I get what he was saying. I get what the picture was saying. I get what everyone else was saying…

Prioritize, learn, prioritize, learn. 

Repeat as long as you live. It’s okay to be an idiot once in a while, as long as it's not a permanent disease that can’t be cured.

March on, people. 

Your journey is way more important than a few barking—or disappearing, deceitful—dogs.