Forgetting to love

Hi Blog Land.

I am having a bit of trouble getting my characters to fall in love, or to display “real” love…between “real” people. I don’t know if this is because my relationships have been precarious, or if it’s because I am currently riding on a different wavelength from my partner. We are going through a nasty hump, but it’s nothing to be dramatic about. We are both aware of it and just allowing each other to express the apathy that comes after being with someone for over six year. Ugh, you smell! Ugh, walk faster! Ugh, ugh, ugh! You know what I’m talking about; trivial situations that don’t really mean anything. Or at least don’t really amount to anything that means we are horrible people. Passive aggressive, yes. Weird, yes. Unwilling to grow up, definitely.

My poor characters meet in high school, and they have a child during their last semester. Although I know someone who’s gone through this situation –what I’m really having trouble is, getting into the mind of my male character. Why? Because he also will also enlist in the army. I have interviewed two veterans in this process, and quite frankly the military experience is a sensitive subject. Aside from there being a lot of different titles in the Army, there are also some topics that were really uncomfortable for some of my subjects. I wonder if this is the character I must let go of. It hurts me to say this, but he might be. Or maybe I can work more on my lead character, and focus on him afterwards. Right now, they’re not gelling.

They always end up in some argument in my head, or some dramatic situation that causes my character to do something extreme, which frankly doesn’t fit my current style.

Maybe I’m afraid to go there.

Well, we’ll see where it goes. If you have any good suggestions about the development of love – please share. I have a good idea of my experiences, but sometimes it’s good to get some feedback outside of my personal circle. Ugh, this feels like the time my male acting teacher stood in front of class and asked me to imitate his sexy walk. Apparently, I sucked at being a sexy woman. My life!


Back to people watching and eavesdropping.



How did you Thanksgiving go?

I hope well.

My Thanksgiving was filled of drama, suspense, passion, confusion, and hypocrisy. Why?    Because after twenty-one years of being apart, my grandfather and mother finally saw each other. It was a great, and all the drama in my family was unleashed in three days of remembering and sharing old stories that revealed personal traits about my mother, my aunts, and my uncles. The way they were as children, and the way they are now. And how these people I always saw as adults can transform and become children again, in the presence of their father…after twenty-one years. Twenty one, that’s a full fledge adult who just made the legal drinking age. Twenty-one.

Being around my family explains a lot of things about me. Like the evil inside me. Haha, just kidding. But seriously, I realized that we al have good and bad in ourselves, and some of my bad traits were explained to me through the observation of our Thanksgiving meal.

But what holiday is safe of family drama? None, in my opinion. It’s what makes us solidify ourselves into a unit of meshed up ideas with sustained historical traumas that are passed down from generation to generation.

I love Thanksgiving. It makes me reflect about things I am grateful for, and it makes me wonder about who I might be were it not for the weirdos around me. I love them. I love Thanksgiving.

We hug, we toast, we binge, we drink, we laugh, we wipe away tears, we remember, we wink across the table, we throw napkins filled with secret messages and jokes that we think are too dark for our father’s father. But we all know that’s not true.

We are ourselves and in ourselves we are one.

I hope, Reader, you got to spend dutiful time with your loved ones. I hope you discovered things about yourself. I hope you ate too much. I hope you took a nap after you ate. I hope you spilled wine on your favorite tie. And I hope you woke up the next day feeling like there was no need to eat breakfast…because you were still full from the night before.      I hope you are grateful that we live in a nation where that is possible. I know I am. I came from Perú for crying out loud, I think about it all the time.

My family pigged out on Peruvian and American food because that’s how we roll.

Long live Morenos.

80 Degrees & Drowning in Memories

Dear Writers of the world (aka WordPress World),

I moved back to Los Angeles to spend  time with family before going to Paris in July this summer. Yup–yup, I am back in little Peru with mom, sister, brother, stepdad and the Hollywood smog. Today is day three, what can I do besides call old friends and sit by the pool?     What else?     WRITE!

I am proud to say that I spent 1 hour on my novel yesterday, and I plan to do the same today.  I’ve been focusing on Chapter three of the novel. It involves my innocent character. I am focusing on him because I lost my main character’s voice, that is … until today.

Today I found a box of high school letters. Reader, if you write (and I am sure you do), you know that this is a treasure. A box of love letters, friend letters, drama letters from your past is just the ticket to get you inspired. The use of language, the type of lingo from those days (the days I am writing about) are essential for my story. It captures the culture I am writing about, and the voice of my main character. I am proud to say that I will be getting back into her world pretty soon. This is going to be a good day.

I wish you all a joyous summer.