My Poem “Run Jesse, run!”

It is the hallmark of a great film,
a great television show,
a great play, a great writer,
a great cast, a great production staff,
a great actor portraying
a great and complex protagonist,
who by the great gift of their craft
is able to make us –
the viewer, the audience –
care for them, accept them,
and become emotional invested and involved
in the story and in the journey
of the characters that we follow
from the second that we first see them
all the way to the last moments
of the last chapter and finale
that will ultimately – hopefully –
deliver a satisfying conclusion
that makes the journey that you
have taken with these familiar
characters worth all the time,
all the energy, and all the thought
that you committed to them
over the hours, the days,
the months, perhaps even the years
that it has taken to reach the end credits.

It can sometimes be hard to find
an ending that ticks all the boxes,
that answers all the questions,
that wraps up all the dangling threads
that remain to be addressed
and given a reason for why
they were not connected to the
greater narrative that underpins
everything that is a part
of the ultimate story being told…
in any given story it is always
out of the hands of the writer
and the author which part of an ongoing
story people will respond to and why –
sometimes it is the simplest
and the smallest of plot points
that resonate the most
and which over time become
what people remember the most,
as if what they saw shined like gold.

It is always a test for an audience
when an author creates
a character and they put them
through things that push them to their limits
and they change them in ways
that are hard to watch,
and it can sometimes be hard for people
to continue to empathize with
a certain character when they
start to behave in morally
questionable ways of being…
quite frequently, in some of the best
stories ever told, an audience gets
to watch the evolution of
a protagonist into an antagonist,
the hunter into the hunted,
the wronged into the redeemed –
and vice versa –
and the once imprisoned against
their will make their getaway
and run for the hills and away
from all that they are leaving behind –
like the character of Jesse Pinkman
driving like a bat out of hell
in his black and red ‘El Camino’
away from his past and towards
a future that not even he knows.

“The average person looking at someone doing evil or wrong wants the person to get away with it. I think it’s the most amazing instinct. The audience can’t bear the suspense of the person being discovered. “Hurry up! Quick! You’re going to be caught!” – Alfred Hitchcock

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My Poem “The Wolf Within Me”

It was about three years ago,
around this exact same day
and month of the year,
when I decided to write a poem
for Halloween called “The Wolf In Me”;
however, to my amazement, what was
supposed to be a poem slowly but surely
grew into becoming a short story,
a novella, and then ultimately
a short novel capable of standing
on its own and filling an entire book –
and this story was the first chapter
in the tale of Olivia Hunter:
a young woman burdened with a curse,
a secret, a gift, a spirit within her
capable of transforming her into a Wolf,
because the secret that she lived with,
alone, was that she was a werewolf.

When I first began writing “The Wolf In Me”
I had no idea that it would ultimately be what it became…
when I first began Olivia Hunter‘s journey
with her I was just as in the dark about
where her story would take her,
because there was no plan as to the direction
of every twist and turn…
when I first began writing, imagining,
and bringing to life the world,
the characters, and the story of
“The Wolf In Me” I felt myself
be carried away and compelled
to write more, to know more,
and to find out more about
what was going to happen
and where Olivia’s story felt like
it was telling me – the writer – to take it…
when I first began writing “The Wolf In Me”
I began to feel more and more –
the more that I wrote –
that I could be a writer
who explored and exposed different worlds
and different depths of life, of people,
and fully investigate subjects like
identity, change, life, loss,
and those things that are important
to everybody’s daily lives
and their state of mind.

Since I finished writing “The Wolf In Me”
I have written many other things –
short stories, poems – and I even wrote
and published a sequel to “The Wolf In Me”
called “The Wolf In You”;
however, for some reason, from time to time,
in my mind I am drawn back to the thought
of the character whom I imagined,
thought about, lived, breathed,
and wrote about, every day until
I had to say goodbye to her
and let her story speak for itself –
and I silently wonder how she is,
where she is, what she is doing,
and if one day Olivia Hunter may choose
to inspire another story about her
that speaks to the spirit of The Wolf
who I believe resides within me.

My books “The Wolf In Me” and “The Wolf In You”,
as well as all my other books of poetry and stories
are available to buy online from Amazon,
Barnes & Noble, and The Book Depository
in Paperback and as an eBook.

Happy National Storyteller Day!

My Poem “The Underdog”

Underdogs are always underestimated –
however, in the same breath,
underdogs are also expected
to accomplish a sometimes almost
miraculous feat and overcome
every obstacle in their path…
underdogs are usually the ones
that a crowd of people gets behind
and roots for, because people
like the idea of being a participant
and a witness to a remarkable event
in a person’s life, their story,
their legend, their journey…
underdogs can sometimes appear
to have come from out of nowhere –
however everybody knows that someone
can only make a difference if
the right version of them shows up
and they put everything into
whatever they are doing…
an underdog is a rebel of the status quo…
an underdog is someone who does not know
when to lay down their sword
and keep their head low…
over the centuries history has recorded
the deeds and the words of underdogs
who answered a call to face an opponent
who towered above them in some way –
just like in the story of David and Goliath –
and it is because of these heroes,
and these icons of inspiration,
who chose to rise to the occasion
that they found themselves presented with,
that people all around the world
still to this day battle in arenas
of many kinds and sizes
and valiantly personify the importance
and the meaning of being an underdog.

My Poem “Multicolored”

Everybody is an individual,
a person, a spectrum of many colours
throughout their life…
no one can help what body they are born into…
everybody constantly hopes to be able
to one day express themselves
in the way that they want to
without feeling abnormal and as if
who they are on the outside
is not meant to fit in with
how the world is, how it is meant to be,
and how it is meant to look…
no one has the right to be able
to tell anyone that they cannot
be who and what they want to be.

Music is life, life is music –
and people in all their many colours
and with all their individualistic
facets are who make the music of life
as rich as it is, and without all
the many pioneers of individualism
and the proponents of staying true
to what you believe
then the world as we know it would not exist.

The best of humanity, the icons of history
who will be revered forever,
the ground-breakers who knew
even before they learned how to talk
that they were special, different,
anomalous, and exceptional
because they saw the world
and the question posed to them
without the jadedness of a dark cloud
of preconceptions hanging over them –
they are the ones who have always been
responsible for giving our world
the gift of pure inspiration,
ingenuity, and innovation
in the many levels of every day life
that different people live upon.

The best stories ever written
are of extraordinary people
overcoming a stereotypical boundary
that ultimately leads everybody
who learns of their story
to be inspired and choose to emulate them
and follow in their footsteps…
I believe that if you are someone
who is “different” from everybody else
then you should feel proud…
monsters, trolls, and bullies are different
and they are treated differently –
which is why people who suffer
from being singled out
often plague others with the same toxicity
as they are daily exposed to.

In my opinion, if you are different
from everybody else then
you truly are “special”
in every sense of the word –
and I have always believed that
when you embrace you own
individual eccentricities
then you may find that you share
more with other people around the world
who already know who and what they are
and who choose to let the light of their
multicolored soul shine like
the constituents of depth
that give light to a star.

My Poem “Finale”

Not every story
that you find yourself drawn into
ends in the way that you want it to…
Not every story can have that
happy ending that people wants…
Not every story can be the version
that the reader or the viewer
of a story has in their head –
because stories are both a creator’s
and audience’s medium,
and one in which there is not always
a shared instinct into how a particular story
should begin, progress, unveil itself,
and ultimately end.

Every story naturally must have a beginning
and every story naturally must have an end –
and while a writer is writing a story
the world in which they are building
and the characters they are choosing
to include within their story
can change in direction, shape,
and intention from
how they were initially envisioned…
readers and viewers of a story
usually only get to read, or to see,
the finished, polished,
and final version of a story
and they are oblivious to all
the various choices, changes,
and minutiae that had to be
considered by the stories’ author
in order to make a story, their story,
as perfect as can be.

Every story is a challenge…
every story is a journey…
every creator of every story
thinks, feels, considers,
and lives every word and every line
of the story that they set out to
make a reality and one which
people might choose to invest their time into…
every author does not take the death
of a character in one of their stories lightly
and they are fully aware of how
their story can change
and be internalized differently
depending on who is enjoying them.

Writing can sometimes be hard –
however, at the same time,
writing can be one of the best
and one of the most life-changing things
you can ever commit yourself to…
when a writer first begins building a world,
a reality, a universe, the farthest thought
from their mind is that of having to finish
what they started –
so when they arrive at the moment of having
to wrap-up a story and a journey
that has meant so much to them,
take it from me, there is never an
easy way to write a perfect
and truly satisfying finale.

My Poem “A Matter of Time”

There is a time for everything…
there is a reason for everything…
there is an answer for everything…
there is a purpose for everything,
for everyone, for the good, for the bad,
for the black, for the white,
for the left, for the right,
and there is always a fine line
between darkness and light
where both heroes and saviors
in all their forms live and breath,
where they are able to see,
hear, feel, and understand
the reason why things are
the way that they are
and why certain things
need to be what they need to be.

No two people are the same –
and that is an amazing thing…
no two stories are the same –
however every story shares
certain commonalities with one another
that bind them spiritually to one another
through a combination of degrees of separation.

No two hearts beat at the same rhythm,
no two minds are wired in the same way,
no two dreams are coloured in the same tone –
because every person is a walking, talking,
constantly communicating spirit
and a vessel that is constantly
changing and becoming something else,
somebody else, as they progress along
the path of the life, as they emit
and emanate their own light,
and as they race against time
to give reason, purpose,
and an answer to the question
of why they were born
and how the world has been effected
by their presence in it.

Life is not random –
it only appears as if it is sometimes,
because sometimes some things seen
to appear as if from out of nowhere…
poetry is life, and life is poetry…
darkness cannot exist without light –
and that is why every time I look up
to the stars of the night-sky
I am reminded that everything and everyone
is the matter of a particular place,
purpose, perspective, universe,
and the time that they find themselves within.

My Poem “Reader’s World”

There are books about everything…
There are books about anything…
There are books of fiction,
and there are books of fact…
There are books about possible futures,
there are books about the past…
There are books about heroes…
There are books about aliens…
There are books about journeys…
There are books about friends…
There are books about food…
There are books about cars…
There are books about paths in life
that you should choose…
There are books about the planets
of our solar system,
and there are many books
about the question of whether
there was, and still is, life on Mars…
There are books about celebrities…
There are books about authors…
There are books about cities…
There are books about nature…
There are books about animals,
mammals, insects, reptiles,
forests, jungles, flowers, plants,
predators, herbivores, carnivores,
extinct species, and there are thousands of books
about history, about archaeology,
and about all the different big and small
varieties that there were of dinosaur…
There are books about films…
There are books about T.V. shows…
There are books about dreams…
There are books about clothes…
There are entire libraries filled
with books from floor to ceiling
that are a treasure troves
of different worlds…
There are second-hand bookstores
that are entrances to many different
places where you can find yourself,
where you can find someone, something,
somewhere to identify with…
There are bookshops which,
when you walk into them,
instantly give you this feeling
of being welcomed into a sanctuary
of fellow book-lovers, book-enthusiasts,
and book-buyers, who understand
why books and stories are so important to everybody –
from young to old, of every sex,
of every walk of life, of every skin colour…
Humanity is a species of storytellers…
Our world is planet of infinite stories…
Some humans are natural born artists
and sharers of feelings and experiences…
Earth and humanity have constantly
been living in a symbiotic relationship
with one another since the dawn of time –
and since our ancestors first looked up
to the stars of the night sky
we have imagined, dreamed, and told stories about
what else and who else could be out there
looking down upon us from above
as we look up at them –
and I have great confidence and optimism
that our fascination with what we know
and with what we don’t know
will never stop inspiring all of us
to seek and out discovery
something that we do not yet know…
It is our collective gift of curiosity
that has always driven the human heart
and soul to want to create worlds
and tell stories for others to read
and to learn from –
which is not a surprise to me,
since we know that since our species
first learned how to paint
and how to record what was on their mind for others to see
we have been members of a reader’s world.