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Wednesday, April 29, 2015

An effective story makes your heart race

“I realized that the good stories were affecting the organs of my body in various ways, and the really good ones were stimulating more than one organ. An effective story grabs your gut, tightens your throat, makes your heart race and your lungs pump, brings tears to your eyes or an explosion of laughter to your lips.” 



The Writer's Journey: Mythic Structure for Writers

by 

read about Tristen's heart racing adventures here.

Self Publishing vs Traditional (My Journey, so far)

When I was a kid, I wanted to be a marine biologist and work with dolphins.  As I grew older, I wanted to be a lawyer and then when I decided that I didn't want to do that, I discovered that my true passion was International Affairs.
Notice that not once did I say I wanted to be an Author?
I never wrote much as a kid.  Occasionally I wrote poems, but they were more an expression of my emotions that go in my journal and not something written for others to read.
The story of Tristen... well, I don't like to put it like that, "The Story of..." Rather, I feel like it's more like:
Tristen came to me.  Because really Tristen is very much a real part of me, probably a manifestation of something in my subconscious, but the person, Tristen, is real.  And when I don't write about him, give him his story, he bugs me.

So anyhow, I never really gave it much thought if I would try to find a publisher or not.  When I decided to be serious about publishing TRISTEN, I had to decide which route to take.  If you know anything about me at all, it's that I like to research things to death on the internet.  So I read and read and read.  I decided to give a querying a try (for those of you who aren't sure what a query letter is, it's basically a letter convincing an agent that they will like your story and want to sign you on).  I found 2 particular agents that I was interested in, both extremely busy and very well known in their industries.  I queried one of them, he (very nicely) told me that it wasn't his thing and we both moved on.  I queried a couple more agents, without success, and that was that.
You see, this whole thing wasn't really the route I wanted to go.
I didn't like bugging agents, being the desperate author, trying to get a book deal.  That's just not MY thing.
So I decided to self publish and haven't looked back.
 Later on, I read an article where some emails had been read that were written by elite book agent that, embarrassingly, joked between 2 assistants who had BATCHED rejected authors, without even looking at their query letters.  They were discovered when one of them had hit "reply all" on accident, replying to all the authors they had just rejected.  Whoops!
For me, being able to do everything, good or bad, is comfortable.  I like not having to wait a whole year after my book is complete to publish it, having complete control over my cover and title.  I love not having to deal with snobby assistants (usually I find the assistants are much more snobby than the agents themselves -- do those guys even get paid?)
I especially love having to work hard, even thought it might look easy, it's not, and really knowing that I'm accomplishing something I really want.
So what's best for you?  You have to decide this for yourself because maybe you just want to write and not worry about all that other stuff.  Maybe you want the support of others with experience helping you.  Or maybe you want a mixture.  That is a route that many authors are moving to, having a publisher for some of their books and self pubbing others.
You have to decide what is the most comfortable for you personally because what works for you (not me, or any other author) is always the best.  And, regardless of what others may say, you can always try it one way and if that doesn't work, then try something else.  We no longer live in a 'traditional' world of publishing anymore.  The world is our oyster--even if we have to dig out that d#$%#$ pearl out with everything we've got!

My name is Fleur.  And this is my blog.




Tuesday, April 21, 2015

This blog post has no title, because there is no title to this blog post.
Sometimes, it so incredibly hard to write a blog post.  Especially when you've got no assigned topic or specialty.  For instance, Nick writes about publishing and tips to help out with that, Jesse writes about books he reads and Tanya writes about her deep thoughts.  But I want to keep this blog open to writing about whatever the heck I want to.  That's right... I can write whatever I want!  This is what I say to the 'authority figure' I have in my head that has told me that 'I can't do what I want!'
(My first grade teacher used to yell at me for stretching my feet out and making her trip, treating me like I did it on purpose or something.  I mean, I was just a puny innocent 6 year old, give me a break!)
But then... well... the world is wide open.  Like sending an orphan African street kid to the grocery store with a ten dollars.  What do ya want kid?  Just pick something already!
There are several times during the day when I'm hit with something I want to write about.  But maybe I don't have my computer on me, and then the thoughts drift away.  Or I start to write something, something I've been thinking about and have it all in my brain, I just need to get it out there, and then I've overthought it too much and I can't write it all out because at that point I'm just completely exhausted of the subject and DON'T WANT TO THINK ABOUT IT ANYMORE.  (take that, "authority figure")
So today, I've considered writing about my irrational fear of snorkeling --  a fish will eat you, i just know it! -- even though I was living in Hawaii and everything was just absolutely gorgeous, I could NOT force myself to do it.  Even today, I've tried it in Florida, bought the gear and everything and sitting through Finding Nemo for the first time was incredibly stressful (imagine that!).  I really should just give up, I mean, why can't I just sit on the sand and read a book??

I've also considered writing about other fears, fears of rejection, even from -- no, especially from -- your closest friends.  I seem to be the most venerable with them, when I'm with most people I am really quite confident, but in dealing with the most cherished friends I become such a insecure pansy.  What's up with that???????

I've thought about writing about writing, or about my bestest character, Tristen, or about the frustrations of being heard in a world where no one ever shuts off their phone, or their computer, or their brain, AND YET, everyone is shouting at them and so they don't ever really hear anything because they're too busy with their eyes glossed over, trying to avoid giving in to the pressure of someone "selling" them something, and too much information is at their fingertips and they just don't see little old me waving my heart that I've ripped out and served on a platter and named, TRISTEN The Last Seeker for them.
But none of those things seemed to take.  and so right now I'm just wishing for the Great Blog Guru to come down and tell me what to write.
That's right, you heard it, I'm waiting for the "Authority Figure" to tell me what to do.
see?  i really have tried.

Monday, April 20, 2015

Why boredom helps your creativity


Have you noticed how we never get bored any moreWe always multitask, rarely doing just the one thingLast week I came across a number of articles about boredom and how usefuland highly unusual, nowadaysit isI guess that is because of the summer. People find themselves with more free time, and even manage to get bored on occasion, hence the unusual increase of articles on this extraordinary feelingOr, maybe, I just need to remember that sweet feeling.
The latest article I read on this was on Edutopia, but I remember seeing at least another one (being me, I obviously cant remember where) about how parents should let their children get boredand how handing them an ipad to keep them occupied is not always the answerThere was even an article on The Economist about helicopter parents who are fussing too much about their kids and who should just relax; part of the argument was that parents should let their children frolic and discover the world on their own, including getting bored from time to time.
Why am I wondering about boredomBecause I never let myself get bored any moreI usually have a ton of things to dowork or writing relatedBut even when all this is finished, I will read something, go out with friends, watch a film, walk the dogThere is always something to doWhen driving to a client's, I will make a few phone calls, both to occupy myself and to clear some of my to-do listWhen cooking, I will pause to read an article on a magazine or a few pages off a book while waiting for the onions to sizzle or the water to boilI multitask every single moment of my life. Were it not for outlets like prayer, Tai Chi and meditation, I would have burned out long ago.

My rare moments of complete boredom are habitually on the beachthank God for Greek summerswhere we go with my wife. She swims a lot (and I do mean, A LOT), while I prefer to lie back and admire the view (she has the cutest smile. Why, what did you think I was going to say?).  Thats a rare moment when I will allow myself to get boreduntil the cell rings. Which is great, because otherwise I start feeling guilty for not doing something productive, like reading a book, answering emails or coming up with plot twists for my epic fantasy series, Pearseus.
My generation andI think –  those after mine have been constantly lectured not to waste our timeWe were taught that time is precious and we should all use it in productive ways; the wordboredomhas such pejorative connotations, that its something nobody should end up doingIt points to missed opportunities and idle hands that should be doing something more creativeOr (lowering voice here) they work for the devilWe dont want that now, do we?
In fact, our entire life has been organized so that we dont lose time: school, university, job are all tightly sequenced so that we dont fall behind. Ourprime directiveis to squeeze everything into the limited time we have, cramming everything together. We drive while talking on the cell, listening to the radio and typing an SMSTime is money, as they say, and we abhor wastingspending or killing it.
And yet, boredom is conducive to creativityResearch has shown that when the mind meanders, the creative process is much more productive afterwardsDoing nothing now is contributing to doing something amazing later onOur brains are not meant to function 24/7 in high capacityThey require lazy time for respite; they demand a moment of lull to recoup; they ask for pure idleness to enjoy lifeWe should allow ourselves the privilege of boredomThe pleasure of shifting our minds to neutral, watching life go by for a while.
Ironically enough, this is something that I need to teach myself, because it doesnt come naturally any moreI have been conditioned to do things a certain way; not multitasking just feels abnormal. Heck, doing anything one thing at a time is a forgotten art. When is the last time you did one thingand only that? No music, radio or TV in the background, no multitasking, no distractions. Just the one thing.
Therefore, when my wife asked me the other day whether I would take my laptop during our holidays, nominally starting today, my first reaction was, “Of course. What if a client needs something? What if I need to check my emails?” Then, I thought back to all the posts on the benefits of boredom and I realized that what I wantnoneed – is for a whole week to get boredDo nothing but stare at salty sea drops sliding off Electra as she comes out of the water. Gaze at the light filtering through the umbrella. Listen to the sound of waves crashing at my feet. And, just for a few days, ignore the accusatory whisper in the back of my head.


Nicholas Rossis, todays guest blogger, is an Avid reader. Web developer. Architect by training, holder of a PhD in Digital Architecture from the University of Edinburgh. And most importantly, Author.  You can read more about him on his website and on his books on his Amazon Author page.

Sunday, April 19, 2015

My book review of Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn

Gillian Flynn's Gone Girl is one of those books that you think about after you put it down.  You have conversations in your head with your imaginary book buddy about it, even if only to talk about how messed up this couple is.

I did a google search of Gillian Flynn, just to make sure that I'd spelled her name right.  And, of course, being the curious person that I am, I also did an image search of her.  She is a very unassuming looking woman.  Who would know of the darkness that lies within her just by looking at her?  If you've read my past posts, you know by now that every author feels the same emotions at that moment in time as the character that they're writing about.  Unless, possibly a very non feeling person, or, in other words, a psychopath.  As you're reading this book, it's very hard for me to imagine the very depth of insaneness Gillian (yes, now that I've read her book we're on a first name basis, even though I just googled her) had to feel while writing and editing this book.  And all the time that she had to spend feeling it.  It takes a lot of time to be able to write a book of the quality and error-free (and no, I'm not talking about grammar, if you've read the book you'll know what I'm talking about) of this caliber.

This book is a murder mystery.  Uh, well, excuse me... This book is about a possible murder mystery.  It's told from the present viewpoint of a man named Nick, who is married to a woman named Amy.  Nick comes from a less than stellar upbringing, which an unloving dad who holds very antiquated and religiously hateful opinions about women.  However, he has a very close relationship with his loving mother and twin, so that's something.
The book is also written from the viewpoint of Nick's wife, with the first part of the book being told by her past diary.  So we're getting the story told from the present day Nick and the past day Amy.  Amy is the trust fund, only child of 2 parents who wrote children's books about her upbringing and made millions of dollars off them.

The book starts off the morning of the Event, with Nick waking up to Amy making crepes for him on their 5th wedding anniversary.   Then, when Nick comes home from work that day, he comes home to find the scene of a struggle and Amy missing.  The rest of the book is about what happened to Amy, is she alive, did Nick kill her?

Now, the whole hype about this book is the infamous twist.  Because it's been very hyped up, I had certain expectations going into it and so I was very suspicious about everything. Unfortunately for me, because of all the hype, the twist wasn't as much of a surprise as it could've been.  I tried to determine if I would've been able to figure it out if I'd hadn't known that there was a twist, but I just don't know.  And even the very last chapters was a no brainer for me.  I knew for a long time that she was holding onto those things, waiting for the right moment to use them. (I'm being vague for those who haven't read the book)

Which side do you believe?                                image credit
I love how Gillian writes characters that aren't all that particularly loveable.  Maybe Nick's twin sister, maybe, was the most "loveable" character in this book.  But one thing I've learned as an author is that it doesn't matter if you like a character, as long as you care about what happens to them.  And I can definitely say that I cared about Nick.   All the way... to the very last sentence.

***From here on out, Spoiler Alerts***

I wanted him to nail that b*tch, Amy.  Right to the wall.  Of a long jail sentence.
The frustration level of his lack of ability to pin down her confessions on a recording device (can't you buy some super spy waterproof recording device that implants into your skin??), the lack of concern by the extremely gullible police (except for Boney) builds as the book winds down and then, horror or all horrors, she uses those little baby-making sperm to condemn Nick AND THE BABY to a lifetime of hell with her.  Of course Gillian ends the book there, without us knowing if she miscarries and if Nick ever gets his revenge.  Because that's The Story: the story of the man and woman who's life is about the constant ups and down, about manipulation to the millionth degree and about Daily. Constant. Struggle.  The author's way out though is the fact that in a weird twisted way Nick still loves Amy and actually has fun with her.  His life isn't all that bad.  I mean, he can never relax, never sleep the deep sleeps that he's so proud of, never turn his back on his wife ever again.  But hey, at least they have some fun sometimes, right?

One of the best, absolute best, ironies of the book was the Dancing Monkey.  That at the end, both Nick and Amy become the ultimate dancing monkeys.  The live the rest of their life in a continual dance, each trying to outwit the other for small prizes of love, affection, attention and staying alive.

One area where I was very disappointed was in her lack of character development for Amy's parents.  How on earth can 2 supposedly loving, caring and so in-love parents produce Amy.  I don't buy her explanation: the expectation of perfection and being an only, and spoiled, child.  I just don't think that those kinds of things would drive Amy to be the person that she became.  I thought for a milli-second that we were getting to the realness of her when she explained that her dad had molested her.  And then we find out that that's only a lie.  Just like everything else.  I wanted to see the weakness - even if it was only a glimpse - of the crack of the facade of Marybeth and Rand.  But it never came.

I also was a little disappointed in the lack of an "ah-hah" moment for the things that the dad was saying.  Of course, the reader gets it, but Nick, or anyone else for that matter, doesn't.  Although, having dealt with grandparents of dementia, sometimes that's just how things are.  Some things that they say, we never really get.

Another thing I didn't buy was images in Nick's head that Gillian tried to use to make us believe that Nick had killed Amy.  Her head smashed in, or her, being pulled on the floor, bloody and crying out to Nick.  Nick had these images in his head before he knew for sure that Amy was framing him.  Now, I know that Gillian wants us to think that Nick killed her, and these images are his memories of the event.  Then she explains these images as Nick's way of dealing with his anger, a way of keeping control of his anger by pushing it all inside, an "oily" anger-infested rage pushed down so deep inside as to not show his true emotions.  However, I'm just not finding any reason for Nick to feel that amount of hatred towards Amy at that point in the book.  Sure, after he finds out the length and depths that she went to to frame him, but before?  He's just unhappy in his marriage, not necessarily angry at her.  Or at least, angry enough to imagine violent brutal images of her impending death.  I think she should've given us a better reason for those images.

All in all though, an emotion provoking book and worth the emotional ride.
My name is Fleur.  And this is my blog.




Thursday, April 16, 2015

Our lives?

While I was walking through the streets the other day, I heard a girl talking on her phone.  She kept telling the person on the phone that she "didn't say that" and how "someone was making it up." I saw confusion on her face, but she also had traces of fear and guilt. She must have said something she wasn't supposed to and now she regrets it. Could be, or maybe she is really telling the truth and I'm the worst profiler ever. 
I kept walking where I was heading and thought about our lives, are we really true to ourselves, or do we live the lives of our parents, our acquaintance and people that are around us. How free are we really if we can't even dress before we leave our house without thinking what someone might think about our clothes? Our clothes??!

When a girl walks down the street and someone looks at her, she asks a thousand questions in her head. Why did he look at me, does he think that I look horrible, is my hair a mess, should I have worn that other shirt or is there something on my jacket??! Oh, I must look fat in this! While the conversation in her head is going overboard, he probably thinks: “Did I walk the dog today?” 

One day everyone will stop worrying about stuff like, “What will my friends think about my clothes, but what do I think of myself” and this is a part that can't be fixed with a better jacket and make up. I still walked to a cafe where I met my friend after we hadn't seen each other for a very long time. When I saw her I remembered all those times in my room, where we dressed up like morons to impress other morons.
I said, “Hey you” and thought, oh my, its so nice to see her


Tanya von Ness, todays guest blogger, is a teacher who loved designing so much that she decided to do it for a living.  Her dedication to creating quality book covers is reflected in her work.  She is also very passionate about writing and traveling with her family.  She is a proud mom of two beautiful little girls and wife of an amazing husband.  You can find her beautiful book covers on her website.



Monday, April 13, 2015

5 Writing Tips from JK Rowling

Who doesn't want writing advice from this chick?
I think that most writers admire J.K. Rowling.  We’ve heard how she spent hours writing her books in an Edinburgh café (I vote for Nicholson’s, but Edinburgh café owners seem entangled in a heated debate regarding which one she actually preferred, and I have heard a number of possible options, never quite sure as to which one is the true one. Could it be she frequented more than one??). We know how her manuscripts were declined by an astounding number of publishers (something that most writers experience), how she was broke but still wrote and how eventually she managed to turn things around for herself.  The rest is history, and I guess that most authors, whether self-published or trad-pub, pray night and day that they will have her good fortune (I know I do).
Therefore, it comes as no surprise that anything she suggests in terms of writing tips, this time on E-books India, is taken pretty seriously.  As you know, I am not one to follow rules but I think that in this case, she makes some good points:
  • Write strategically: don’t advertise or disclose details that are tell-tale regarding the rest of the plot. Make your story mysterious, leave tips but do not reveal how you are planning to end the book.  Especially if you are writing a series of books, you really want your readers to be anxious to see what happens next, so telling them the plot from the first book misses the point.  Yesterday night, a very good friend called me and said –after having read books 1 and 2 of my series- that I was despicable for killing a hero (whom I had not killed, but my friend assumed I had) and that he hadn’t slept all night, wondering what happens next?  Naturally, I felt very proud of myself and offered to send him book 3 so that he could read the next installment – and let his wife sleep.
  • Make your characters flawed: we all like to read about people that are amazing – but not too much so. We still need to be able to relate to them, even if we find them incredible.  Part of our relation to them includes their flaws.  Characters cannot be perfect because that is unrealistic.  I think there is an important balance to be maintained, with a realistic character that borders on the boring on one end and a character that is absolutely astounding, but practically impossible to identify with on the other.  So, make your characters interesting, stimulating, capable of doing admirable things, but also flawed.  Characters with a twist!
  • Background characters have to remain in the background: choose which characters are vital to the story and develop their background – as long as it’s relevant to the story. Writing pages upon pages of background stories about secondary characters will exhaust most readers, especially if they don’t see the significance to the general plot.  I know that my previous post was about how long books sell better than shorter ones, but let’s not abuse this rule guideline!
  • Be fearless: Let’s face it: if we write about what we know, we will write about ourselves. And most of us are common, normal, boring, ordinary characters. The trick is to use our imagination to give this conventional character the wings to fly with. Have them do something incredible without making this act appear out of place.  Complexity being part of our life, two-dimensional characters are uninteresting.  Three-dimensional ones are the ones people like to read about.

  • Write for yourself. I know that you have probably heard this one about a thousand times and are raising your eyebrows going, “oh, not again!”, but it’s true.  If you write for yourself, readers will see the authenticity of your writing and will love it.  If it has worked for J. K. Rowling, I guess that it’s bound to work for other people too.  Hence, write about what you feel comfortable with. For example, I would probably be lousy at romance or historic novels, as I’m not comfortable with the genres. I would probably be better at mystery, but I love writing children’s stories and fantasy/sci-fi.  Having defined the writing area within which I feel secure and confident, writing anything else would appear false.  Therefore, I plan to follow J.K. Rowling’s tip on that one – at least for now!

Photos by Debra Hurford Brown and from these websites here and here.




Nicholas Rossis, todays guest blogger, is an Avid reader. Web developer. Architect by training, holder of a PhD in Digital Architecture from the University of Edinburgh. And most importantly, Author.  You can read more about him on his website and on his books on his Amazon Author page.

Friday, April 10, 2015

waking up from my death

Oh shit! I suck in a quick deep breath. My chest aches as it heaves, and my head is spinning. I feel nauseated as I rub at the headache behind my eyes.  Pain crawls through my body. Taking a mental assessment, I note that everything hurts. Something large and heavy hit me. For some reason, I can’t get my head around it. What was I doing? I run my hand down to my stomach because it’s burning like I’m on fire. My hand comes away sticky and wet. Oh shit! Struggling to sit up, I try to open my eyes. There are light trails keeping me from seeing clearly, but I can tell, its blood. My hand is covered in blood. Blinking over and over, I try to clear my eyes, and I see it. My stomach is also covered in blood. Recollection floods my mind – the fight. We had a huge fight. Oh shit! He tore through me. He hit me so hard I flew into the bookcase and it shattered against the wall. Then there was the noise. It was loud and thundering. It echoes in my mind. At that moment I remember, I’ve been shot. 
As the realization moves on, tears well in my eyes, fear fills every fiber of my being, and my breathing stutters. I test my legs to see if they’ll move. My knees protest, but give way to movement. I kick at a pile of rubble, and try to make room to get up. A low grumble comes from beside me and I freeze. Cautiously, I look around, and see that my husband is asleep on the couch. I can tell by his snore, he’s sleeping off his drunk. The empties piled on the coffee table confirm my suspicions. As silently as possible, I pull myself up gingerly, and begin to move towards the back of the house. I hold the wall for support and grab my purse off our dresser. There’s no time to take anything else. Mentally, I begin thanking God that the boys are at my sister’s, and that I’m not dead. 
Tears are spilling down my cheeks, but I try to remain quiet as I make my way to the door. I don’t even close it behind me because it would make too much noise. I need to get away without waking him. I stumble down the steps of our trailer, trying to think of a getaway plan. I start for the car, but then I think of the noise the engine would make. I mentally reprimand myself, “Think think think”.  I look around. We don’t have any close neighbors, and the car is definitely not an option. My only choice is the woods. If I can just make it through the woods, the road is on the other side, and I can hitch a ride to the hospital. I start praying that there will be somebody out tonight. That old road never has much traffic. It would be a miracle if there was someone. I sling my purse over my head so that it hangs across my body, and I start for the woods.
Survival mode must’ve killed the pain as I find that my aching body begins to move faster the closer I get to the woods. I trip several times crossing through, but keep moving. That’s all I can do is keep moving. I have to make it. He could kill me next time, but there won’t be a next time. Exhausted, and determined to survive, I stumble out on to the road. Headlights are moving towards me as I stand captivated, unable to move. A large truck just misses me as the tires squeal. This is my chance. I will my legs to move to the sound as fast as my body will let me.  A man jumps out of the truck and is running towards me. He’s yelling but I don’t hear him. Ignoring his gestures and yelling, I move passed him to the passenger side of his truck and climb inside.
He follows me and rips the door open, “What are you doing?”
I swallow hard, “Please help me,” I reach out and grab him with my right hand as my left protects the injury in my stomach.  “I need help.” It’s all I can mutter.
He must notice the blood because the next thing I know he’s lifting my shirt to look at the wound. When he sees it, all he says is, “Damn it! Hang on!”
He climbs in on his side of the truck and the tires scream once more. I collapse deeper into the seat as I start to feel extremely sleepy. Thoughts fill my mind as I wonder if it’s the blood loss, or the exhaustion from the beating. Against my better judgment, I succumb to sleep, silently praying my rescuer doesn’t kill me either.


This is an excerpt from the first book in the Survivor Series: Resurrection, due to be released in the Summer of 2014.  You can find Meg Farrell's debut book, A Place to Stand, here.

Our guest post is by the author, Meg Farrell
She's from North Mississippi, US. She's a busy wife and mother, but decided to follow her dream of writing a novel. She completed the first draft of A Place to Stand during NaNoWriMo 2013 fulfilling a lifelong dream of becoming a writer.
Her motivation to finish her dream, by publishing her book, was found among the most amazing group of people at a small conference in Nashville, TN called UtopYA. It is a glorious place, aptly named. 
Her husband, Jason, and her have 3 children, 2 old dogs, and 3 surly cats.


Thursday, April 9, 2015

Grey

if I spend all the color there is in the world
in this night of grey butterflies,
It leaves my soul empty
honest from inside
and a little bit frozen
from this day,
despite the fact
that I am very kind
to the child inside





Tanya von Ness, todays guest blogger, is a teacher who loved 
designing so much that she decided to do it for a living.  Her dedication to creating quality book covers is reflected in her work.  She is also very passionate about writing and travelling with her family.  She is a proud mom of two beautiful little girls and wife of an amazing husband.  You can find her beautiful book covers on her website.

Wednesday, April 8, 2015

What an author goes through when writing

Am I the only one who thinks Oscar Wilde looks like Simon Helberg??
When an author says that they pour their soul into their writing, what they really mean is that they feel the same emotions as their characters.
For instance, if they are writing about someone in pain, then they are feeling that pain.  When the character is happy, then the writer feels the same joy.  And when the character is crying, it is likely that the author has tears running down their face.

It is truly a gift to be able to experience such emotions while writing.  It brings about what I call, the Writer’s High.  When the writing is flowing from the pen and all the emotions are coming so easily and the author can feel horrifying pain and gratifying happiness all in one afternoon.

I really feel like this is a gift to me.  And yet, why do I find it almost… embarrassing to admit that when I read the end of my second book (before the prologue), I cry almost every time.  When I wrote it, when I edit it, and even when I’m just reading it this swell of emotion puffs up in my chest and travels to my face and wants to burst out.
And then Mr. Negative comes out and says, “Why are you getting so emotional about this part?  No one else will feel this way, it’s just a story.  It’s not real.”
And I stop to consider his words, just for one moment, and then I take Mr. Negative and mentally fold him up and squish him inside a very small box and shove him under everything else inside my head, because I am not listening to him today!  I have too much other work to pay any attention to him!

And then I re-read what I wrote again and grin like a fool and wipe my tears away and say, “Yes, it is.  It’s real all right.  Even if it’s only real in my head.”

Go 'way, Mr. Negative