Since I am a writer officially in 2019 all that has been happening is just hardships and moments of pure hardom where in time all seems lost and so wrong. "Be consistent and work hard. They say. But I have been working hard and doing all that with no results at all. I am publishing around in KDP and it helped me in nothing at all, no matter if you change the words, improve the quality of the manuscript and the cover. It's so hard nowadays to be a simple writer in this world and honestly no one care less if fall down in the depths of the algorithms that Amazon did just bring those works that only a certain number of people wants to read, besides millions of books are published every day and it falls down the big hole, no matter how hard the work was. That's the dark side of KDP and other self publishing platforms. Because of this many traditional publishers either they have to close and file bankruptcy or increase the prices of the publishing to survive other winter. Some, still won't. Tons of people self publish now that brings that paradox that we all have been feeling since that Amazon launched first CrativeSpace and then, KDP. Other platforms open also to bring competition to Amazon. And thing escalated pretty fast after that. Now, many writers like me the because of that. And many are unable to escape the stagnation of publishing, when there is too much to offer and too few people who have the the power to buy. It's a sad moment and this will bring a new crash but for all book industry. Since I am a writer officially in 2019 all that has been happening is just hardships and moments o...I
t's not that simple to reach whatever goal I've been trying to reach. But I had a good dose of luck to find people who care and that helps and wants me to thrive. As I do my very best to reach my goal. Now, I am searching for a way to publish my first novel and I know now, as I got the real scale, of how much effort I need to fight and work hard to many sure that everyone knows what I do or who I am. I have been working since I am 13 in my opus and I lost account of many time I was this close to "burn" everything as I cried with my heart broken when I could not be able to do anything due to many factors. Today, I have a light bubble near me and knowledge to fight harder to accomplish my dream. My dream come true in 2019 but it's still going and the camera is still rolling. I am fighting.
Dreams tend to crash you like a wave crashing a ship. But if you don't fight you won't accomplish nothing. I believe if you fight hard, all the hardships will be gone and you will find success. I fight every single day against the tide and storms that wreck me me down. But fight more and learnt to be resilient. Now it's time to find a way to make sure that my legacy is not forgotten. And need your precious help to find all that.
All dreams come true if you fight for them even when they tend to be broken by others that slap you false sense of reality. Gravity is real and yet man went to the moon.
This is what quite often I Feel as I am going my best to find way to understand better the world. I honestly don't know if I will ever manage to do it.
What inspires you to write?
I am a fan of the little things happening when no one dares to care. The small details of things.
I love to travel to Portugal, Spain, France, Austria, Romania, Bulgaria, Serbia, Hungry, Croatia, Bosnia and Italy. All the places I visited left me with a good mark in my writing.
A simple homeless person who is unique and sad, can inspire me to write in a way.
An weird pattern or behavior can inspire me to write in different way.
Paradoxes like Dark, Light, hero and evil are common in all stories. But to me those paradoxes are the ones – in certain way – while a evil character can be saved if we find the route of that evil and try to heal what caused damage.
What authors do you read when you aren’t writing?
JRR Tolkien, King, Goodkind and CS Lewis.
Tell us about your writing process.
My way of writing comes in weird way.
Sometime I have the urge to write about something, as if I listened a kind a whisper in my mind.
I forgot the uncountable times I wanted so badly to write and I can't. The need or I had to write in that moment. Then, for my dismay, I forget it. ´
Before having a phone, this would happen all the time.
For Fiction Writers: Do you listen (or talk to) to your characters?
I mourn for them if they are gone.
I am their God, but I am a god that truly loves them all and I am the one to encourage them to take certain paths. They love and hate me.
What advice would you give other writers?
Never give up. The power of your work and words can change the course of this world.
Allow your readers to laugh what you laughed about. Allow them to cry what you cried. And finally, allow them to be a god when you failed to be one.
How did you decide how to publish your books?
Being 13 years old with dark thoughts filling up your mind while living in a village in the middle of nowhere. I had to process all the deeds and trauma. I would create imaginary people that you are not a evil spirits to save my mind and soul.
Today, I write about all that in a different perspective.
About the Creator
Antonio Madrugada
Writing rite since I am 13. Empower me to grow and I will publish my first novel of fantasy soon.
I am Portuguese. I am 33.
I published my first book in 2019.
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Dreamy Poetry
Anger One day in anger I lost you The ego that now hurts so much It was me, not you who ran away And the cowardice that hurts so much There is still my yes on that bench That yes I forgive you That we could fight And you stayed by my side until today. That you wouldn’t have suffered so much And your eyes in mine I knew there was a lot more fire. Years later your eyes They still glow in the dark of my mind. It would be something we could work on Forgiveness for a simple mistake I lost you in regret and had to face it The uncertainty of youth And the cold mornings were colder And in life as uncertain as our futures. The past hurts But I’m glad you’re around A lantern in the present To light the way of the future But my affection for you is never absent. My mind My mind is a dark place Distant with dreams to light Some doors of my destiny In any clandestine Surrounded, sometimes by ghosts That the music there helps to amaze. Understanding me is like walking through a maze No exit in sight. I feel that doubt is the eternal state From my epic mess. On the tangent of a lost scream Like a gun that fires A bullet that hurts someone, random And there is a wound that never heals. The kiss How about a kiss A sweet and bitter kiss One of those that lingers in the memory In the moments when you make glory And in those I tell our story. The love that makes us think That sometimes we’ll walk After all, I like to love In the sense that commands life And what makes us lovers, Not by destiny, but by right to such experience Which is seldom called clemency. In the end I love you In the end I kiss you At the end of our life I will regret losing you I feel good in hope To have you in my heart I feel good in hope Of loving you and having your forgiveness I feel good in hope Of some day of having given you a kiss The love that makes us think That sometimes life is strange That sometimes makes us its trick And it makes us hurt so many times And to think that I’m going to have to give up Of that hope of having you in my chest But I still love you so much. I will continue my path by your side, Not to sing this sad fate What is to think that I will never have you in me And wake up from the love that puts me with a hangover. I wander in gardens I wander in the truth of your lips That they bring me after a whole day without you. It’s something I can’t explain Sometimes I think that life, It’s weird so many times. My cry after your goodbye I will try to be as honest as possible. When all that’s left in life is hopeless And I feel that I am much more than I thought, So when the starlight went out And everything else went dark What happened? My world, I discovered too late, died. I feel unfinished Like an incomplete rhyme Of this sad fate Without getting that longing Show in me, in my chest, the truth Of the person I am after all Or what I do, react, or give myself. I feel completely unfinished Because I express myself with longing In an imperfect way, this fado. What happened to the world to die like this? What led to its tragic end? The stars went out because you left, And you went without a single word, justification And you, after all, my world, it was you. Yes you! You were my world, the fire of passion, My life, my soul, my heart, My spirit in everything. Please come back and complete me Resurrect me and love me This is my plea, The cry after your goodbye. Adore in every word One morning I wake up And I really remember From last night with you Gazing at the stars But the real star It’s just you. Let me look at you Let me look at your body In the moonlight I ask you to kiss me That you touch me and make me happy This is the truth that is said. You are beautiful in every word In all senses In all ways Everywhere Even on my street The truth that is naked and raw I will love the day that I have In my arms again. In summary I adore you With all the words With all the senses In all ways Everywhere Even on my street. I think I think how life can be So strange and reminds me I want you from here From this mountain to see you Sitting on this hill Sitting I want to love I want to love you one more day This is how it is, my day to day Even when I’m intensely sad. I think about life, sometimes without you And without your sweet love To sweeten my mouth So a never sad face Does not succumb to pain. The Beginning of Tomorrow Today I wanted to love you And I woke up with the desire to kiss Kiss someone like you today Kiss the star of my heart Kiss only, my passion. I thought about what I dreamed And I loved forever During the dawn My forest fairy Let me sleep on your lap So that I can think about you tomorrow. Today I want to kiss you Feel you I felt the lips that Nature gave you. Even if it’s dark I only see the sky with you This is mine and yours And nobody else’s. I just love it I just feel I just have something That I don’t have Love like that, with an open heart Today It will just be the continuation From tomorrow and tomorrow It is the continuation of your destiny. Learn to enjoy every moment If we know how to take advantage In all contexts of life, We are happy, more willing to love, Everything is respected, life is colorful. We face our destiny Like that road Close to our home like a teaching, The one full of holes, bored. But the road passes At our tired feet And we won another stage, We do not give up in the face of these obstacles. Every curve and hole, It might even be an opportunity, To live better in our space, With respect and truth. Sweetness It’s your simple sweetness That tempers my life, I hope and wish that you stay. I love you because I chose to love you, O life. Calm me with your peace, Tomorrow I am someone capable, To live loved and fulfilled, Without fate sadness. I live with you without melancholy, Just pure happiness and harmony, With your simple sweetness, That sweetens my life, O life. I love that you kiss me I love you fairy, queen of me, oh life. You are perfect in our mornings When I wake up, you sketch Your special smile, The one you only keep for me. May they never end, The mornings, ours, I get silly and you make fun... The life... Leaves Old leaves fall On the ground that receives them With love and surround them While in this erotic game, Like naked women The trees are bare, In an autumn that brings change, In this game of hot and cold An annual ritual of hope To ask the gods for better days. Bare, the trees, dance in the wind, The wind brings them fresh water from the rain And in the spring a new sprout will be born. Slowly the airy muse dances Seduces the wind and the rain falls in a moment Fresh, harmonious and perfect, will be born after A new sprout that will be flower and then fruit, Will bring the birds and the bees to take I get the seeds for the new trees. Now the birds gather To prepare, afterwards, on his spring journey. In their wings they hide, Dream by the waters of April. Now they sleep warm in the branches of old trees, Those who once sang And danced in the wind, to bring them The cool autumn water. Rebel I described the pain That it cost me to heal In a revealing poem Still a child still playing. Dreams that hurt Like evil slaps That just brought The hard lesson for every day. Rebellious pimples Black glasses like magnifying glass To reveal how lowly My adolescence occupies In the void not yet filled How many unhealed wounds If in part I was still held back In bad memories That time will never erase. Look at me When you look at me Remember who I am. I don’t pretend and I won’t give you roses. Be content with the jasmine I give Well, I went to get him to that mountain That mountain you said you liked In the pamphlets of our travels. And there I was mounted on the horse of my imagination. And I told rosemary that I cared for you with my heart. I will not promise wealth Not even that house you dream of Or a car, or any other material good. Because the immaterial, our love It’s more important in our life together. I will only give you delicacy, seasoning Love, affection and some bad mood Of an imperfect moment. But if there was perfection it was a sign That our love would be counterfeit. I won’t promise you perfection But you will always have my heart, I promised rosemary that I would take care of you. And that I also promised you. When you look at me Remember that I never promise I’m going to be the sword prince Who saves you riding a white horse. But yes, a simple poet in love What takes you to that mountain Mounted on the horse of my imagination. Intent counts. When your gaze turns For me, if you have the courage Don’t stay there and watch the landscape come and go, Love me madly, like I love you madly And protects me hopelessly from what may come. Just as I protect you hopelessly. Fight The fight does not declare Victory alone The fight is a fight Who declares peace in the light And war in the dark Struggle is the word that best translates When there’s room in the heart For there to be peace When there is a leader who is able To keep hope, Prosperity and bonanza. Dictators who kill, It has neither courage nor heart. Leaders who fight for their people And they fight until the end Even when there is so little. They are heroes and their courage has no end. Courage is your shield and secret weapon And know will be written and sung In full history books and music Of his people who also sing to their loved ones. They, the good leaders were never soldiers, But simple and honest men. The dictator has his eyes on everything Less in your own conviction And conviction is what will lead you to ruin Because even those who follow lose their conviction And he becomes aware that he is in a ravine. Don’t come and say that a dictator is crazy Because being crazy means Who doesn’t know what he’s doing. The dictator knows he won in blood And the marks of your crime are written In every corner of the truth But it’s your war machine With the advertising tool That he serves to wash minds Of those who put him in power And he doesn’t know or knows the swing From the wheel of power and pure space From a thin veil between life and death. He knows that he destroys all that is good. A woman walks On the naked street of love She puts her hand in mine And look at me in your pain. Close your face with your hands To cry the overwhelming emptiness. As a tear runs down your eyes An overwhelming pain. Mother who screams inside Weeps the bitterness of war A spoiled child Part to face the war That he would never ever choose. My hand tries to soothe the pain From the mother, but that just makes it worse. My hand brings the memories of love And he does it because my hand was the phantom touch From your child’s hand The mother cries more and closes her hand more But tears can never bring solace Crying is just a human reaction to grief And she knows she won’t bring him back She collapses in grief and emptiness. A good mother, a good son And a dictator who wants only blood. A womb always full of love. An empty womb and so much pain. Banal I know it’s banal of you Despise the writer and poet. But what if it was a crime Abandon a poet to his human poverty If the poet never abandoned you, Alone in your profane ignorance. I know you find it banal to watch To things and to keep silent In the corner because they were educated to watch When dad asks them to be polite When he made the sign of silence. I know it’s easier to cross your arms To avoid retaliation and embarrassment. I know it’s easier to have a wedge, Without moving a nail, Underneath a door that opens to you An opportunity for an easy job, And have someone save your skin But I know that in the end the fight was not yours. It’s not even your strength Abandon even if it makes you unhappy. Be yourself I admit to being skilled at something, But I will never be fragile. I’m nice, But if they take me Like someone who gives in easily, Not only are they fake, Especially with yourselves, As they are masters of deceit. Despite not being talented at all, I feel lucky I’m not like that As fragile as people They don’t look like who I am. After all, only I really know myself, Only I know what I feel, The people who think Who know me well, Will never know who I truly am. It’s false for someone to tell me Who knows me well, Because I, in all my “I”, I am unpredictable at all times. It’s strange, and most incredible, Almost the height of hypocrisy, Try to know more about me, What I know of myself, And yet, certain people, Not knowing anything about themselves. Where many can see my weakness, I see my own strength, I often exaggerate In my actions Just to see how they react And know who I can count on, Many may have already failed The little tests, But also many passed And I know who I can count on. Don’t take this message As a direct or affront, That would be your long shot, Don’t even see me as someone bitter, Just like a simple Alert message, Only those who want to are affected. Just be honest with yourselves. Don’t take me as someone fragile and sensitive If you don’t really know me Because in the end, They will only be masters of their own deceit. Sad indeed. Dreams I decided to dream my life But it’s not in my choice Cross your arms to the chosen fight Because my work is not that of a God But I encompass with me all mine, When touching, giving color to colors Of your tired hopes Of your revolted choices To see so many arms crossed on the side of the road The one that of bad reputation traveled By those who chose to do nothing. I work with them all day, Were brought up in the cradle of ignorance The government did not let them have importance, Never let them have that perk. The doer of nothing, even protests As if it were the worst of sacrilege Take with the buffet of wisdom, They were jealous of the boys who went to college. I decided to give light to the eyes of those who don’t want to see anything. My work will never be that of a God But I chose to fight for the science and wisdom of living To win without ever shying away from hatred Of those who chose to look at anyone from the side, That will be their punishment for accepting their fate. Troglodyte minds victims of ignorance Society is a victim of itself Because motto was that the sum of its anxious Was annihilated and the remainder was zero Because there was no division between school and work. Don’t mutilate yourself Don’t mutilate yourself By the words of others Or their fake smiles For you must strengthen in yourself The verb to fight for who will also fight for you. Discover the unknown if you don’t know Yourself, if that’s your mission Avoid repeating to yourself that failure can But it’s not, be the solution to something above Of your abilities, which is not true. March March, dress and don’t camouflage Your being of true colors That nefarious hypocrisy tried to stifle For thou were born pure into the world, and thou shalt die With nothing left to give. Be the rebel that no one else Had the courage to be Because the voice that keeps you will be in you Agreed to never let you forget How disgusting is ignorance Taking away from you your role and importance, I want you to always be a nobody When your dream is to be that someone. The taste of indifference I have in my mouth The taste of your indifference It was already so little The life of my hope That someone had a clue That your contempt It doesn’t kill just one heart But also the dream That a poet can change the world. Clean your hand Keep every coin Who could buy the compassion book. As if just give a salvo It was the bane of a good actor. When he gave all his splendor. But it actually went beyond the pain For the audience to be hypocrites and just smile. So are the people with the artists Let them die alone in the cold streets. Short memory of Fools Empty pockets And always with bullshit talk. A heart stopped beating Because society wanted Turn the darkest face at dusk And there won’t be another dawn For the eternal learner. Breath I tried to take comfort in the little things That can never give encouragement For thinking I could tame comfort To be happy with so little and with the wind That brings hope for a new beginning. The words that fail me, Are the same ones who abandoned me Lucky to be small and nobody To have a life to whom and nothing beyond. Until when How long will this adventure last? When Portugal has had enough, Enough that threaten free citizens to advance If one enough would heal the wounds Of a democracy spent in the mists From memory, which many people fail. After so many issues and schemes To find out who is the better thief and leader. Portugal was Empire At the cost of human lives But the expensive effort It gave, in part, better lives. Today, what we learned, At the expense of mistakes and flesh, Hanging by a thread for an ideal that doesn’t exist But which was invented to serve, Even if they never admit it, The indignant flies that sound, Of democracy is too high And they want to kill the constitution and everything good, That has been conquered throughout pure history And the light blinds them to the moon. The screams of enough Were drowned out by the incoming gunfire And one is enough that tries at all costs, And above all cost of living. Cover up the crime That democracy hangs by a thread in the corner. Abstention is the only card of the political elite. A card with no value, fear remains, bluff. But there is hope in those who are anything but afraid To speak shamelessly to a divided nation And if hope arrives tomorrow, I learn to pray.
By Antonio Madrugada2 years ago in Poets
Center Stage with Paul Stewart
*** I'm keen to republish the interviews I did for my series with Vocal creators. It's been a few years and I thought it might be nice to revisit these wonderful conversations. I'll be releasing them one at a time for a few weeks/months.
By Heather Hublerabout 5 hours ago in Interview
Fumfer Physics 36: Proto-Thoughts, Context, and Memory Hooks
Scott Douglas Jacobsen asks whether it is naïve to look for a discrete “unit” of thought, given that thoughts vary in informational content and rarely arrive as neat sentences. Rick Rosner argues that language captures only a thin slice of cognition: perception, background knowledge, self-critique, and half-formed associations run in parallel as “proto-thoughts.” He uses the example of viewing a painting to show how sensory input and contextual inference accompany any sentence-like notion. Most thoughts, he adds, pass without leaving retrieval “hooks,” much like dreams. Without deliberate encoding—or a later contextual trigger—mental material vanishes, because recall depends on activating the right associative patterns.
By Scott Douglas Jacobsen8 days ago in Interview
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