The Writers' Block

TEMPORARILY CLOSED!

2008-02-16T21:31:00.002-06:00

Dear friends,

Eve wanted me to let you know how much she appreciates all the messages, and kind support that you have given her during this very difficult time in her life!

She currently does not have access to the Internet otherwise she would be thanking you personally! She is still dealing with several personal issues and she will not be blogging for a while.

Do to this situation I decided to start my own blog, "Zayury's Gibberish"! I hope you all enjoy my new place! :) All those who have already visited, thanks for supporting me on this move!

Eve and I thank-you for all your kindness and wish you well!

YAHRZEIT

2008-01-17T09:33:00.000-06:00

YAHRZEIT

Poem by Leah

Pictures by Zayury

My dear friend Leah from SimTales was kind enough to allow me to illustrate this beautiful poem she wrote in memory of her beautiful daughter, who passed away on Sh'vat 3, 5762 at age five. It was my honor to do this for Leah. She allowed me to share this version with the poem included in the pictures. Leah has posted the version without the poem in the pictures here:
Yahrzeit

NEW UPDATE!

2007-11-16T16:26:00.000-06:00

Chapter Two of "MAELSTROM" has been posted!

Eve is fully recovered and she has come back with a 'vengeance'! :)

SORRY FOR THE DELAY!

2007-11-01T20:10:00.000-05:00

Dear friends, I apologize for the delay in posting the next chapter of "Maelstrom", but Eve has not been feeling well. I thank-you for your support and understanding with this delay.

Eve we luv ya hon, GET WELL SOON!

NOW OPEN!

2007-10-22T01:51:00.000-05:00

Check-out the new page under our Table of Contents! It's now OPEN!

COMING SOON!

2007-10-18T18:54:00.003-05:00

FADE TO BLACK

Starring: Lucian

SEE MY EYES

2007-10-18T15:43:00.002-05:00

SEE MY EYES

Gibberish by Zayury

Pictures by Zayury

" I'm leaving for work now sweetheart... your daddy came home tired so don't make to much noise... I love you sweetie be a good girl..."

Mami... see my eyes... see what I'm trying to say...

"We'll be fine, go you're going to be late."

MAMI... SEE MY EYES... see what I'm saying...

DON'T LEAVE ME... DON'T GO!!!!

Mami please... don't leave me with him... can't you see my eyes... as soon as you close the door... it's going to happen again... mami......

NOOOOOO!!!!

ANGUISH.....

2007-10-17T23:34:00.000-05:00

What have I done...

Please...I beg you...

FORGIVE ME....

I RECEIVED FLOWERS TODAY!

2007-10-16T04:17:00.002-05:00

This sim story is based on a poem my dear mother saw in the Spanish newspaper, “El Latino American” issue of March 11, 1998. “Hoy Recibi Flores”, the author’s name was not listed. This poem meant a lot to me so I translated it so I would be able to share it with you. WARNING: May not be suitable for children, contains adult situations and violence.

I RECEIVED FLOWERS TODAY!

Translation by Zayury

Pictures by Zayury

I received flowers today! It wasn’t my birthday or any other special day;

We had our first argument last night; He said a lot of cruel things that really hurt me; I know that he regrets it and that he did not want to say the things he said;

Because he sent me flowers.

I received flowers today! It wasn’t our anniversary or any other special day;

Last night he pushed me against the wall and he started to choke me; it seemed like a nightmare, but one wakes up from a nightmare and realizes it isn’t real;

I woke up this morning, aching and with bruises all over my body, but I know he regrets it,

because he sent me flowers today.

I received flowers today! It wasn’t Valentines Day or any other special day;

Last night he beat me up and threatened to kill me;

This time not even make-up nor long sleeves could hide my cuts and bruises;
I couldn’t go to work…I didn't want anyone to find out, because I know he regrets it;

Because he sent me flowers today.

I received flowers today! And it wasn’t Mother’s Day or any other special day;

Last night he hit me again,

and it was worst than the other times;

But if I leave him, what am I going to do,

how am I going to take care of my children?

And money? I am afraid of him, but I'm scared because I depend on him for everything! But he regrets it.

Because he sent me flowers today.

I received flowers today…Today was a very special day –

today was my funeral; Last night he finally killed me –

he beat me to death; If only I would’ve had the courage and strength to leave him;
The shelter for abused women could have helped me, but I did not seek their help;

That is why for the last time…I received flowers.

(Dedicated to all abused women)

LEARNING TO WRITE AGAIN

2007-10-15T22:00:00.000-05:00

I learned at a fairly young age that writing was a means to be someone else, if only for a while. It allowed me to see things from another point of view, and to visit far away places I'd never seen. Writing was also my time machine. So long as I was creating characters and exciting situations, I was without limits. I could go anywhere, be anyone. Nothing was beyond my reach.

Some authors create their work from a place of joy. Others create from a darker place. From a voice deep inside screaming to be heard, a voice filled with the pain of loss or a less than easy life. I fit into the latter category. Darkness comes naturally to me, always did. I was always different from the other kids, weird they called it. I kept to myself, and only had one friend. At home, I stayed in my bedroom and read every book at my disposal until I knew most of them by heart. And, I wrote. Poems, lyrics, short stories...anything that came to mind. Writing was my escape.

By the time I was twenty-four I had written a novel. I was invited to join a guild where published authors shared their thoughts and advice with those still struggling for recognition. It was thrilling and I will never forget those authors who encouraged me to forge ahead, nor the constructive criticisms they gave me.
After a particularly painful period in my life, I found myself afflicted with the bane of every author's existence: writer's block. No matter how I tried, I could not pen one syllable. I had always had a vivid imagination, and then , it failed me. I went on this way for years, wanting desperately to write but unable to. Then, I met a new friend.

I don't recall exactly when we met, because we haven't. We write back and forth via e-mail, guest books, and PM's. Zayury is one of the most insightful people I have ever corresponded with. It was she who pointed out to me that perhaps my block was coming from my past. From a moment when someone hurt me so deeply that it scarred me for life. I thought about it. She was right, and by not writing I was letting that person continue to hurt me. Zayury expressed an interest in reading my work. She did not care that it had been written ages ago.

As I pored through a large pile of my manuscripts, searching for the perfect one, something happened. My imagination began to soar. I found myself re-writing one of my short stories, sitting up until three in the morning, my back and shoulders aching from leaning over my laptop. It was bliss. For the first time in ten years I typed the words "the end". It was exhilarating.

Zayury's words of encouragement brought me full circle. Writing is my heart and soul, and living without it had made me feel empty. I now feel a renewed sense of purpose, of hope. I want to say "Thank You", Zayury. Thank you for your friendship, your trust, and your wise counsel. Because of you, I am learning to write again.