B. M. Valdez
Bio
Hello! I am a published novel writer (bmvaldez.com). I write LGBTQIA+ characters into many different stories. Posted here are short stories/chapbooks connected to larger projects, writing advice/journal articles, and poetry.
Stories (38)
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When the Lights Went Out #2
Chapter Two Platform [pl-aat-foh-rm]: The entry point to the monster realm. Known as No Man’s Land. Formerly inhabited by the dragons until they were exiled from the realm. It currently boasts no inhabitants and is guarded by a troll.
By B. M. Valdezabout a year ago in Chapters
Unlocking Inspiration
Have you ever sat down to write only to spend the next hour tormented by a blank screen and blinking cursor? I know this is a plight that I suffer on a regular basis. Burnout is a related problem; being mentally taxed from your day job doesn’t help this situation. I have a few tips for you of what might and what has helped me to get over this problem as well.
By B. M. Valdezabout a year ago in Writers
Find Your Community
Writing can often feel like you are drifting listlessly alone in a void. Just you, a blank page, and a blinking cursor. This loneliness can really be the bane on a writer’s existence. It can be soul sucking to face countless rejections on your own, have no one to share ideas with, or be on your own when it comes to critiquing and revising.
By B. M. Valdezabout a year ago in Writers
What is Rewriting?
I thought I’d start my series of writing advice articles with this topic as it is one that stumped me for years. As a writer, you’re often told that drafting is the easy part. You have an inciting incident to kick off the plot, maybe you get bogged down in the draggy middle, but then you wrap everything up nicely in the end. The hard part comes next: revision. I used to think this meant making bigger picture changes (adding a character here, deleting a scene there, changing the sequence of events) followed by an in-depth line edit which includes doing a Find and Replace of the whole document to remove filter words.
By B. M. Valdez4 years ago in Journal
Once Upon a Pear
The professor brought the lecture to a close with a wave like a conductor’s baton. John ducked his head and began gathering his notes together. Murmured voices filled the hall as the rest of the class filtered out. He tucked his pages into the ratty briefcase his father had generously loaned him only a few short weeks ago. Already, John’s heart ached for the comfort of home. Even if he did return to Georgia, the comfort wouldn’t be there. Ever again.
By B. M. Valdez4 years ago in Fiction
Weary Path
The first deep chill of December was always the hardest for John’s Georgian blood to bear. The trek across campus from his dorm to his courses was made longer by his aching limbs. At least he only needed to make the journey twice per day: once on the way in and again on the way out. Completing his studies as expediently as possible would ensure John could fulfill his dream of dentistry before long.
By B. M. Valdez4 years ago in Fiction
The Young and the Rustless
When Doc and Wyatt entered the marshal’s office, Virgil was already pacing the length of it, continuing an even stride despite the disruption. His footsteps reverberated around Doc, creating a rhythm that threatened to put Doc to sleep. They’d had a hard ride into Tombstone the night before, and Doc had barely been able to rest at their hotel. Wyatt had been up early, of course. Now his older brother didn’t even seem to notice their presence.
By B. M. Valdez4 years ago in Fiction
Ivory and Marigolds
Sharp, crisp notes lilted through the parlor. John’s long fingers danced over the ivory keys while his mother swayed nearby, a tea cup clutched delicately in one bony hand. Each chord John struck brought Chopin’s masterpiece to life. He would play the piano forever just to see his mother smiling like that. His father hated the sound—like broken glass clobbered under a horse’s hooves—because it stood to remind him that John would never be the son he’d wanted. Despite his mother’s efforts to shield John from his father’s disdain, John could see it clearly.
By B. M. Valdez4 years ago in Fiction
To the Marshal's Surprise
The jail door clattered closed behind Doc as he followed Wyatt into the dusky streets. They surveyed the surroundings then ambled up the street toward a nearby saloon. The hammering of Doc’s heartbeat began to ease as the adrenaline seeped out of his limbs. Exhaustion tugged heavily on his eyelids. He was grateful for it. Sleep would welcome itself in as soon as he lay down.
By B. M. Valdez4 years ago in Fiction
A Jay Gatsby Dream
The printed word has flowed through my blood since I first understood its meaning. I would read them; I would write them. Then, during an eleventh grade honors English course, I stumbled over a project that would provide years of self-care. Though there were many reasons to be enamored by The Great Gatsby, the encounter with a certain owl-eyed man was one that inspired my own journey of building a library. Since I was first exposed to this scene, the owl-eyed man’s proclamations regarding the books’ authenticity has remained in my mind always.
By B. M. Valdez4 years ago in Journal
