Xlibris Novel Journeys into the Spiritual and Metaphysical World

Mystifying at the very least, the metaphysical continues to fascinate the human mind and will probably persist in eluding the common man’s way of thinking until some common, explainable ground will exist between the paranormal and the normal.

Waking Maya is an exploration of such a world where perplexing occurrences are driven by invisible forces that propel events to happen, causing a certain cycle to subsist in the already present cycle of our lives.

In this self-published book, author W.J. Goldie brings forward the story of Maya, a twenty-two-year-old woman who finds a connection with her father in the shape of a tattered journal. The artifact brings Maya on an adventure that transcends physical reality and impels her to search for meaning in her life while discovering her own psychic abilities.

Goldie classifies Waking Maya as a visionary fiction novel wherein “the underlying spiritual and metaphysical principles can be seen, observed, explored — even elevated to the status of characters in the story”.

Gripping, evocative and certainly illuminating, this Xlibris release will take readers on an excursion into a world where parapsychological incidents come alive. Written with hauntingly beautiful, almost poetic imagery, it is guaranteed that one’s literary appetite will not go deprived.

About the Author A Brooklyn native, W.J. Goldie earned his Bachelor of Science degree in Biology from Towson University. Having worked for Steven Spielberg and Edward Zwick, Goldie’s literary skills were only intensified. Featured Playwright in the Playwrights Showcase of the Western States in Denver and the Baltimore Playwrights Festival, Goldie currently works as a freelance writer in Boulder, Colorado.

Source: prlog.org

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How and (Why) to Take Criticism

*I came across this article and this helped me a lot. Hope it'll do the same for all writers out there.

How (and Why) To Take Criticism
By Monique van den Berg

"I am an artist. The critic is my nemesis."
Have you ever heard this internal dialogue? Well, you’re not alone. We writers exist within a paradox. Our egos tell us we’re brilliant, yet one word from a critic can convince us (at least temporarily) that we’re worthless. Criticism strikes at us where we’re most vulnerable: the place inside ourselves where our creativity lives. And as a result, even criticism designed to be constructive can be hard to take.
Yet there is a reason to take criticism. If you want to improve your writing, there’s few other ways to go about it. I will concede that you can improve by reading other writers, and writing tremendous amounts on a regular basis, but that still doesn’t give you what a good critique gives you: an objective opinion. A look through fresh eyes. The trick is in separating the grain from the chaff: realizing which criticisms are worthwhile, and which should be disregarded.
~
It is tempting to listen to the negative opinions of others, and discredit their positive opinions as mere "politeness." I used to do this all the time. In fact, one of the earliest pieces of criticism I got was in the form of a rejection letter for a poem called Above The Timber Line. The note on my manuscript read:
Above the Timber Line shows real genius. Why decorate genius with dimestore adjectives?
This stung. I ignored the part about the genius since obviously he was just being polite. How could he insult my precious adjectives? How could he attack words like "hollow" and "shiny" that I just liked the sound of? I threw the paper in a desk drawer and tried to ignore it. But it wasn’t that easy to forget the words. What if he was right?
It took me a while, but I started re-evaluating my own use of adjectives. I found that I had been making what I now think is the number one mistake of amateur poets: using adjectives that are weak, overused, or superfluous. Once I stripped away the dimestore adjectives, I did get a little closer to genius. My new attitude towards criticism had taken root.
~
It was years before I really became sanguine about the whole process. Eventually, I realized that the visceral, emotional reaction will always be there, but it can be mitigated… you can make criticism work for you. The following 10 guidelines will help.
1. Not everyone will like your writing. Not everyone shares your taste, your school of thought or your perspective. Your talent is not erased or diminished just because this person or that person doesn’t like the way you write. They may like you, but they can’t critique you, because they don’t share your vision. Just move on to someone who does.
2. Beware of ulterior motives. Most people will reflexively try to lead you away from your own style and into theirs. Be wary. Although some people are conceited enough to think that their way is the only way, for most people this is unconscious and subtle. It’s a side effect of trying to set aside bias and evaluate a work on its own merits. This is hard to do, and it’s common to slip up.
If you are considering someone’s suggestions for your writing, remember that they are ultimately subjective. Always make sure that what they are suggesting is true to the text and to your own style.
3. Nothing you write is all bad. You should never listen to a critique that doesn’t say at least one positive thing about your work. A review that is 100% negative is either unfair or offered by someone with their own agenda. There is at least positive element to any work of art, and if your critic doesn’t bother to seek it out, they aren’t worth your time.
4. There’s always one asshole. In any creative writing workshop, you’ll find this person. You will learn to see the signs. He or she has a lot of talent, a respectable number of publication credits and an ego the size of Delaware. You may be tempted to respect them; after all, they do have talent and attitude. They are accustomed to inspiring awe in unpublished newcomers like yourself. Don’t fall for it.
In my second poetry workshop, The Asshole was a supremely irritating graduate student who rarely had anything good to say. When he did dole out the occasional favorable remark, he acted like he was bestowing a royal favor. And he loved to say pretentious things like, "The penultimate line of your penultimate stanza requires a certain panache that is lacking in this piece’s current iteration." Blech.
5. Quid pro quo. Part of getting helpful criticism is dispensing it to others. Don’t be condescending (as I once was) of the people that you think have less talent, experience and skill than you do. We all start somewhere.
Yes, offering criticism is a skill, and the only way to develop this skill is through practice. Always start off by listing the good points of a piece, then list the weaker points. Offer concrete solutions to the problems you see. The more specific you are, the better. Figure out what you find the most helpful in a critique and offer the same kind of input to your peers. In the long run, this skill will serve you well.
6. Build up your defenses. Don’t seek out criticism until you are ready to hear it. At first, your writing will be extremely close to your heart. Nurture the writing that makes you feel like this, but don’t show it to anyone. If anyone suggests that you change it, you’ll probably feel like they are proposing plastic surgery on your newborn infant. This may well discourage you from giving birth to any more poems.
First, find friends who will lob (figurative) softballs at you. Once you can take their mild suggestions in stride, you may be ready to move on. Do you suspect that your writing has weaknesses that they are hesitant to point out? Time to move on to colleagues, acquaintances and workshops.
7. Value honesty. It is an increasingly rare commodity. People may be afraid to tell you the blunt truth for fear that you’ll become antagonistic towards them, dislike them or attack their work out of spite. Other people are simply too polite to tell you their negative opinions, no matter how much they sugar coat them.
One day, you will find someone who seems to "get" what you are trying to say and who genuinely appreciates your work, but isn’t afraid to tell you when you’re off your game. You will often agree with them, whether their comments are positive or negative. Hang on to this person. A good critic is worth their weight in gold.
8. Only submit early drafts. If you have a work that in your mind is "finished" or that you’re particularly attached to, it’s probably too late to have it critiqued. This applies especially to pieces you have put a lot of work into. If you’ve spent an hour fine tuning every word, you’re going to take criticism a lot harder. You will stubbornly resist changing a single syllable. On the other hand, if you’ve just casually tossed off a first draft, it’s quite easy to carve it up with impunity.
I know your inclination is to impress the people in your workshop. Trust me, if you tinker with you’re your writing too much before submitting it, you’ll reach a critical mass point where suggestions for change become utterly futile.
This also applies to older works. When I read some of my earliest poems, I fully recognize how I could improve them, but there’s no way I would even try. A lot of them made me the writer I am today. I can’t stand on the top floor of a building and dig the foundation out from under me, now can I?
9. Be as objective as possible. Don’t ever expect criticism to be easy. It will sting at times, no question about it. The trick is being to set aside your wounded pride and try and be objective anyway. Evaluate each suggestion carefully. Your responses will range from, "Oh, wow! Why didn’t I think of that before!" to "How come nobody gets my message… is it really that well hidden?" or "That bastard doesn’t know what he’s talking about."
Before implementing or discarding any suggestion, give it careful consideration. If you’re equally willing to accept or refute someone’s suggestion, you stand the best chance of getting all you can from the input of others.
10. The writing is yours. Never, never give other people’s opinions more weight than you do your own. No matter how much you respect someone, you should never give up ownership of your own words and ideas.
First of all, even the best critic can be wrong. Music teachers told Mozart he couldn’t play. English teachers told Stephen King he couldn’t write. Don’t take everything so much to heart that you ignore your own inner voice.
Also, don’t waste your time trying to convince critics that their opinions are wrong. Just thank them politely and don’t act on their words. If you feel that you have to get everyone "on your side" then you’re missing the point.
Secondly, even if the critic is right, so what? There’s no rule that says you must take X or Y piece of advice, even if you know intellectually that it is good advice. Even if everyone you know and everyone you ask hates something you’ve written, it doesn’t mean you can’t love it. Just don’t expect to get it published.
~

There’s no magic formula that will make criticism an easy medicine to take. But believe it or not, it is good for you. And with the right outlook, you can begin to see criticism as a welcome, desirable, and necessary part of the creative process. Good luck.

Source: absolutewrite.com
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The Writer Test

Are You a Writer?
By: Caro Clarke

Most famous writers claim that they always knew they would be a writer when they grew up. Despite set-backs and struggle, they had confidence in their own innate talent and creative instincts.
But not all writers have that rock-solid confidence (or, as it's known in the writing business, "arrogance"). How do you know if you're truly cut out for the life of a novelist or if you're actually some sad wannabe who's pitied by friends and family?

Just take the Clarke Patented "Am I Really a Writer?" multiple-choice test below and find out once and for all if you've got what it takes!
THE CLARKE PATENTED "AM I REALLY A WRITER?" TEST(Asking your writing group, tutor, or best friend to help you fill out this test is cheating. So is asking a writer to do it for you, such as Margaret Atwood.)
A. I think I'm a writer because:
1. I enjoy writing
2. I enjoy reading
3. I enjoy typing
4. I enjoy knowing that I am a creative being

B. I tend to get my ideas from:
1. the world around me
2. the fantasies within me
3. the TV in front of me
4. the concept of "idea" is so, you know, anal retentive

C. I try to write:
1. one sustained period a day
2. one sustained period whenever inspiration strikes me
3. you mean I actually have to write something all the time?
4. only when it won't violate my imaginative flow

D. I believe that adjectives and adverbs:
1. should be used sparingly
2. should be used vigorously, fulsomely, and without stint
3. are what, exactly?
4. are pathetic attempts to limit my creative energy

E. I structure my novel-in-progress by:
1. writing to a prepared plot outline
2. writing according to how the story seems to be telling itself
3. writing whatever comes into my head from moment to moment
4. how mundane actually to have a "novel-in-progress"; I have a concept

F. I achieve the self-discipline to write by:
1. forcing myself to work whether I'm in the mood or not
2. letting guilt finally force me to do something, anything
3. jotting down half a page now and again and rewarding myself with ice cream
4. self-discipline is the enemy of creativity

G. I deal with difficult, blocked or "dry" periods by:
1. working on something else to retain good writing habits
2. panicking and bingeing
3. wondering if I shouldn't take up decoy carving instead
4. only real writers are really blocked

H. I strive to make my work:
1. as good as it can be by rewriting and polishing
2. as good as that first true inspiration will allow it to be
3. as unembarrassing as I can before going to my writing group; they're really mean
4. as unintrusive in my creative life as possible

I. I approach the task of finding an agent or publisher by:
1. researching the market thoroughly and learning how to make a professional submission
2. sending my manuscript and a very nice letter to my writing tutor's publisher
3. sending my manuscript to the publishers of the latest best-seller
4. they'll be knocking on my door begging me for my manuscript

J. I accept rejection slips:
1. with a pang, then move to the next submission
2. with a little sigh: I secretly knew it was no good
3. with a howl of unbelieving rage: ignorant jackasses, don't they know true talent when...
4. I'm too sensitive to put myself through such a negative experience

K. I see myself in the future:
1. finding satisfaction in writing novels my readers enjoy
2. becoming a rich and famous best-seller and appearing on TV
3. winning the Pulitzer, the Booker, and the Nobel Prize for Literature
4. being the most famous person on the planet. Hey, in the universe.

L. I want to write because:
1. I have characters and stories bursting to come to life
2. I like the idea of having a book published
3. I like the idea of being a writer
4. I didn't say I wanted to write, just that I know I'm a writer, and this is a dumb test, anyway

How to score this test:Count up the numbers of the answers you have selected. If you have a total of:
12-16: You seem to have what it takes. I'll see you in print one day.
7-25: Time to get serious. Take one giant step into a professional attitude.
26-35: What a dweeb. Quit dreaming and get a life.
36-48: Jerk extraordinaire! Out of my sight, thou posturing ninny!

Having taken the Clarke's Patented "Am I Really a Writer?" Test, you know if you are a real writer or not. If you are, congratulations! If you aren't, contact me for some useful websites on needlework, photography or windsurfing.
But seriously, folks: the basic test of whether someone is a real writer or not is if they really write. There's no magic to it. Either you write or you don't. It's that simple.

*This was a fun test and it made me feel better that I'm not that good a writer.

Source: caroclarke.com

Indeed, who cares if you're a writer or not, you choose your own destiny! Be a published author.
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Poetry: Exploration and Experience

By Mary Diane Hausman



Are you ready to abandon your poems? Before you toss your newest poem away, revisit it using some exercises that have proven helpful to poets who are feeling “stuck.” If you explore some of these ideas, you may be steps closer to placing your poetry in a well-known literary journal.


You can make submissions on your own, or hire some help. Every poem, on average, must be submitted to 100 markets before it is accepted. For poets, these numbers are sad, but true. Even the best poems must cover a lot of territory before they appear on the printed page. A reputable author’s submission service may offer you more time to write while they take care of the submissions. Remember that a good submission service screens potential writers for quality work. They don’t take everyone.


When writing poetry, a poet considers language. They also consider form, and may even consider audience. But that is not all. Though form serves as a vehicle or container, and audience can help drive a poem; and while it is language that gives voice to poetry, it is basically the root of the poet—the poet’s experience—that gives voice to the voice. Even when poetry does not reflect the poet’s direct experience, it is still filtered through her or his eyes. Both poem and poet are inextricably connected; one cannot exist without the other. The material from which the poet culls the poem is that which has been sown, tilled, pulled, dumped, dredged, fermented, stored, and often kept hidden all the poet’s life. If the poet feels brave enough, or even if she is terrified beyond belief, she will excavate this treasure and use it to lay a foundation. Foundation laid, the poet then uses language to form the structure, build the ramparts which hold the poem together. Having built the poem with the blood and bone and truth of her, the poet thus offers a monument that withstands even the critic’s wind. Or, at least the storm of self-doubt.


Following are some simple ideas for exploring poetry and using your own experience to create a poem. If you’d like in-depth technical information on form and poetry structure, there is a brief list of recommended books at the end of this article.


Practice using your voice by writing a poem about a life experience, a memory, a desire, or a belief.


Write a poem about your name. You may do this in either a positive or negative light—whatever is meaningful to you. You may even pick a name you like and write a poem about that name, making it your own.


Select a poem written by someone else; write your version of the poem. Select two poems by different poets which contain the same theme. Write a couple of paragraphs comparing the poems.
In your own words explain what you think makes a “good” poem. Pick a topic you dislike and write a poem about it. Try writing song lyrics. Compare your lyrics to a poem you’ve written.
Read some material on different structures of poetry (iambic pentameter, rhyme, sonnet, etc.). Write a poem with the same theme in each specific structure. Pick at least three different structures. Write a poem explaining poetic rhythm. Explore and write examples of lyric and narrative poetry.



Some books on poetry worth owning:
A Poetry Handbook by Mary Oliver In the Palm of Your Hand by Steve Kowit How to Interpret Poetry by Laurie E. Rozakis The Poetry Dictionary by John Drury


Exploring the ideas listed above may help open new doors for your writing. In addition to your poems being well crafted, they must be submitted regularly and extensively. Beat the odds with strong writing COMBINED with a powerful and tenacious submission strategy.



Source: creativity-portal.com

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