Happy Birthday My Two Flags

   When an athlete reaches the home stretch, the blood pumps harder, the heart beats faster, and every fiber pushes to the limit in order to cross that goal line. 

   In writing, you are barely aware of how fast the word count adds up. Your characters fight to be included in each chapter as the manuscript reaches its completion. Your blood pumps faster, your heart beats faster, and your mind will grant you no peace until that last line is written. That's where I am with My Two Flags Vol. 2 All men are created equal...

   

   In one of the chapters, the first line reads "What a difference a year makes." Glancing at the clock on the lower right corner of my screen, I caught sight of the date. 

   One year has passed since publishing a novel that took me over two decades to write. My Two Flags officially turns 1, and based on 19 wonderful reviews and a plethora of private messages, these series has enjoyed a warm reception thus far.

   My Two Flags follows the life of Antonio Amaya, a thirteen year old Ecuadorian kid whose lifelong dream of living in America turns into a nightmare as the stark reality of immigrant life crashes down on him and his family. 

   Through struggles with prejudice, ostracism, and bullying, Tony (Antonio) holds onto principles instilled in him by his parents, and ultimately finds the determination to belong and embrace his new life.

   Several 100 page composition notebooks filled with Spanish and English chronicles from high school life are involved in weaving this series. Virtually every experience of adolescence is explored through the eyes of the cast and each point of view is sure to make you look back on your own.

   I never sat down to map out a novel with a point to make or a lesson to teach. I just felt there was a story to be told. 

   Regardless of our path, we are each destined to go through something that's bound to not only touch someone else's life, but also change it, and change us along the way. 
   
   Life as an immigrant looking for acceptance is one aspect of the story. In truth, we all wish to be part of something. Especially when we are faced with obstacles and challenges that put our determination to the test as we fight for our dreams.

   You don't have to be an immigrant to have been ridiculed by your peers at one time or another. We've all been aggressors and victims. We've made fun or been afraid of people different than us, and we've all been at the receiving end of some cruel joke based on our origin, race, sex or age.

   But, there is always someone else wanting to be a part of your life. No matter how high you build your walls, someone will find a breach to touch your heart. No self-imposed isolation can keep you from falling victim to the feelings inspired by someone special, and we all inevitably meet that someone.

   I eagerly envision the next volume in the saga. I don't see the pages as much as I see the faces of those who carved their niche in my heart and mind to become the muse that drives me to the keyboard. 

   

Click to see what people are saying about Flags

   So, happy birthday to Flags as some of my readers refer to the series. I know if you give it a try, you will find someone who reminds you of someone you knew; of something you lived; perhaps you'll find a reflection of you.

   As many of my readers have said, you will gain an understanding of what it's like to be The Other, and how crucial family values and good friendships are in shaping a young mind.

   I invite you to read it. Let me know what you think. I dare you to prove me wrong. Whether your high school experience was good or bad, it's sometimes irresistible to wonder back to those years through someone else's eyes.

   No author truly expects their writing to come to life and evoke an emotional response. It's the unspoken goal of every manuscript, but anything written from the heart has a chance to do just that. If I have a writing goal, it's to forge a connection with you that you'll keep for the rest of your life. And finally, it's my sincere hope you find something healing about Flags the way I have.

   Javier A. Robayo

My Two Flags Vol. 1 I pledge allegiance... is geared for ages 14 and up and weighs in at 320 pages. It contains some strong language. Published in March of 2013, My Two Flags has struck a chord among educators and anyone who are or know of someone close to them who's lived under the Star Spangled Banner, and their motherland's flag.

You can find it on Amazon at My Two Flags Vol. 1 and Javier's Website 

About Writing and Self-Publishing

   Back in 2001 (Unreal how quickly times goes by...) I wrote a manuscript, a crime story based on conversations I held with college students. The story was okay, sub par in all honesty in every aspect. I wasn't vain enough to see it as a masterpiece at all. Still, I logged to my AOL account and browsed for publishing firms. I was surprised to find four responses and I chose one firm out of Pittsburgh.

   The woman I spoke to on the phone asked for the entire manuscript. I was at the Post Office bright and early the next morning with my package and sent it off. I don't think I slept much those three weeks until I received another letter. (note how we are not talking email yet. This was a time when people still wrote real letters.) This one hinted at a lucrative contract once the story went through the editorial phase. What's that involve? I asked. Then the woman pulled the rug from under my feet.

   "The editor will not be very nice and you are looking at about $3,500" she said. 

   When I didn't reply, she added "We can work out a payment plan."

   NO! That is NOT how a real publishing house works. Don't fall for it. Do what you can to curve your enthusiasm and keep your money in your wallet. As soon as some entity is eager to publish your book and make you into the next Suzanne Collins after you pay them fees after fees after fees, you're dealing with a Vanity publisher.

   Vanity publishers are quite common and you'll know it just by getting solicitations from perfect strangers who are head over heels with your writing. Why are they something you should watch out for? Because they'll create the illusion of establishing your writing career but once you dole out the dough, you end up with a box full of books and arrivederci you'll know what you'll do with them.

   

   Real publishing houses are so tough to break into because they have to be selective on the works they invest in. But before you sign that check and send it out to a vanity publishing firm, consider self publishing through a platform like Lighting Source or Create Space.

   The costs are low and the biggest advantage is that you, the author, own all the rights to your artwork, your title, your story. No one behind a desk will demand you add a vampire and several scenes of bondage and domination because that's what's selling in the present market.

   The disadvantage is that you are on your own as far as promoting your work and your brand. THAT is where the real work starts for a self-published author.

   If you're new to writing and you suddenly heard an angel choir at the mention of self-publishing at low cost, hold your horses. 

   Unfortunately, Indies carry a damaged reputation, the product of thousands of would-be-authors who spent little time honing their craft and offering a poor product. The book market is flooded with under-developed plots, thousands of pages full of typos, copycats bent on rewriting Twilight or 50 Shades, and countless other atrocities that pass themselves as book these days.

   Now, don't be discouraged. Nothing worth doing comes without a struggle. It's not a question of talent or promotional skills. It's a matter of gaining one reader's trust, then another, and then another. And that takes quite a bit of time.

   If you have your draft finished, congratulations. Now read it and be brutally honest with yourself. Have you made a good product? 

   Can the story be better? As my professor was so fond of saying "There's no such thing as good writing. There's only good rewriting."

   Is it presented in its best possible light? This is where you let your creative juices flow like the Mississippi. You have full control of what goes into making your book: the cover, the format, the font you use on the page numbers at the bottom, the title (yes, that's a big one, considering publishing houses are very fond of changing titles. Just ask Dean Koontz).

   Once you reach the stage where you're satisfied with your final proof, I'm sorry to tell you, but you've only rounded a bend, and the long road ahead of you disappears into a distant horizon. But you don't have to go it alone. This is where Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Google+, and others come into play. Forge connections. You'll be shocked at the reception you'll get from your "competition". I've never come across an Indie author who thought he or she were too good to give you a good word, advice, a LIKE.

   A word about competition: Unless a reader decides he or she will read only the same novel from author X forevermore, you have not lost. Books are limited affairs and remember, all it takes is one. One person to fall in love with your characters and gush about the plot with their friends. It goes from there. It takes time.

   You've written a piece of you. Don't just hand it out to anyone offering you the top best-selling spot on the New York Times. Be careful with your work and explore every option, and I mean every option. Don't discount traditional models like the painful submission and rejection process literary agencies impose on upcoming authors. Hey, Stephen King's Carrie was rejected HUNDREDS of times before making his career.

   

   Before you become overwhelmed keep this in mind if nothing else: It all starts and ends with how good of a story you bring to the readers. That demands more than the proverbial pound of flesh. Don't try to write like someone else. Write like you, and listen to those voices telling you that you can do better because you can. And if you want to reverse the perception trend of the Indie author, you must first make a commitment to giving a reader a story worth remembering.

Javier A. Robayo

Relate Articles

- Avoid publishing scams

- The Rocky Path to Writerdom 

Job Scams

If you've been actively searching for a job online like I have then surely you've come across employment sites where you post your resume in the hopes of finding much needed work.

It seems most companies are content with letting a computer program sort out the good applicants from the bad. There is no such thing as personal interaction with anyone interested in hiring another person. You're at the mercy of a thirty minute questionnaire and you'll get acquainted with standard emails. 

You will also get a number of phone calls from College Guides who want to quickly place you in the halls of higher learning. Why? At most of those employment websites you're forced to register in order to apply for a listed job. 

I've gotten phone calls from schools in Arizona (I live in Connecticut) and even from some Hair Institute somewhere near Hartford. I've even gotten calls from some computer whose job is to dial up your number and tie up the line until the next college placement expert is free to beg for "ten" minutes of your time.

Frustrated by the fruitless job quest, I've talked to one of these people. I expressed a desire to do something with writing. After twenty minutes of stating the obvious time and again, I had no choice but to let the poor devil on the line go. The initial effusive optimism was quickly replaced by a dose of real life and a lack of careers in writing.

Looking for work can wear down your very soul, and you're prone to falling for anyone offering you a glimpse of hope.

Enter the incredible job offers.

Recently, someone identifying themselves as a hiring manager for the Swiss Life Group texted me and offered me a position with their 150 year old institution based in Zurich. The officious bloke came across my promising resume and decided to contact me from Minnesota. 

Like a desert wanderer staring at a mirage of life giving water, I jumped at the chance and eagerly replied with an interest to take the job.

The man granted me an interview. 

Cool!

He asked me to obtain a Yahoo email address so we can talk via Instant Messenger.

Okay...

Just as I was signing up for a Yahoo account, I realized one obvious little detail. 

If some long standing company came across my resume, and decided to interview me, why not contact me through an email that sounded like it came from the company itself? You know, something like mark.franke@swisslifegroup.com or something to that effect? 

Why Yahoo? 

And furthermore, if it was so urgent that I interview with a hiring manager, why wouldn't he just call me or ask me to call?

I then Googled Swiss Life Group and added the word scam to the search bar. Sure enough, it was.

Of course, why would any company want to hire someone at $21.00 per hour ($18 during two weeks of training and complete benefit package after a month of service) based on a poorly prepared resume that has no promise of landing a Business Administration job?

But I was curious. Very curious.

I signed on to Yahoo and altered most of my information, realizing how easy it is to create a false identity online.

Good Old Mark wrote long passages of information at the speed of copy and paste. I answered a question with a question that was never answered as though nothing I typed bore consideration.

Right...

The "Hiring Manager" then told me to hold online while he passed my answers along to the Head Department, whatever that was.

A few minutes later, (surprise surprise) Good Old Mark typed a warm welcome to the company. Wow, I thought, just like that, I'm in the money!

Not so fast.

Good Old Mark then asked me to provide him with a list of personal information for verification so his secretary could put me on register to which I replied, "That information is on my resume that should be on your desk."

His reply was "We didn't save it?"

What?

Elaborate ruse, but laughable at best. It took me only a minute to decide to provide the basics. They're public record after all, and I wanted to see where this guy was going.

He asked me how often I'd like to be paid and asked who was my Bank.

As if...

When I did not reply, he quickly outlined the benefit package, probably copied from some company's website, and pasted it on the message. He indicated I'll have two weeks of training and gave me a list of software I would need.

I asked if I should expect the software and an information packet in the mail and he quickly asked if I would buy the software today.

Um...nope.

He told me he had the in-house vendor ready to take the order and I replied with a question, "Will I be reimbursed?"

"Of course!" He quickly added.

By then I already knew about the counterfeit checks and the useless software. At that point, laughing and wondering just how many people fall for this, I thanked the "Hiring Manager" and told him I was not comfortable making purchases of giving any more information. I told him I researched these "opportunities" and most were reported as scams.

"How do you mean?"

When I asked for solid proof, he immediately offered to get his supervisor on the phone. I was suddenly so important, the boss was going to talk to me right then and there!

I told him I would have my accounts carefully monitored and indirectly let him know I was onto him. I asked for a phone number then told him I would surely find him in the directory of his company and to expect my call.

Good Old Mark went from professionally courteous to downright rude when he ignored my last messages.

A search of Swiss Life Group for a Hiring Manager named Mark Franke was utterly unsuccessful. 

No shocker there.

The moral of the story, boys and girls, is that if something sounds too good and too easy to be true online then it's most certainly a scam.  

Be smart. Be aware. And I hope you all enjoy solid employment that allows you to live your lives worry free, at least for the most part. As to those of us on the search, don't fall prey to the refuse of the online world. Scammers are  everywhere and they go to great lengths to take advantage of you. 

Be very careful with employment sites and never trust any form of communication that does not bare a company logo with a brick and mortar address and contact information. 

For a quick and easy way to find out if you are about to get taken for a ride, Google is a great tool for gathering information. Use it, and be smart. Be aware. Be careful.

Check out this article on Job Scams

More Than a Short

   First of all, here's the finalized cover of the print version of REQUIEM. 

   Last winter, times were as tough as they have ever been for me, and I'm not proud to admit I was in quite a dark place in my own mind. No need to go into it. Transitions of any kind are notoriously painful, especially when they require longer than any of us are ready to allow.
   And so, I began writing the story of a failed man named Kenneth Glass, who happened to be in worse circumstances than me. Life had gotten so tough for Ken that he began asking himself if everyone would just be better off if he weren't around, particularly his estranged wife and son.
   We meet Ken at the burial of his best friend. After all the mourners leave, Ken is approached by an old man, one of the gravediggers. He thinks little of the man before him until the man begins to share some eerily accurate insights.
   Forced to take shelter in an old, dank outbuilding by a storm, the man engages Ken into a conversation filled with cryptic statements and strange riddles, along with the a knowledge of Ken's every thought, slowly driving our suffering hero into a life-changing realization. The epiphany comes at a steep price, and Ken faces the consequences of his jaded attitude toward life.
   What will it take for someone to stop wasting another minute on recriminations for sins past? What does it take to snap out of self-pity and understand that once we reach acceptance, determination follows? What do we need to be shown so we don't turn away from life?
   Those are some of the question that forged the lines of REQUIEM.
   Once again, the characters held certain parallels to my own life, except for the mysterious cemetery man. In all honesty, I don't know where he came from, but much like he did for Ken...
   He changed my own attitudes, and that's what makes this story so special.

   Today I'm thankful for another breath of air that tells me I'm alive and well, and I can make of the rest of my life what I want it to be. I broke down and decided to make a print version of this short story.
   In an effort to give readers a little more than expected, I also added a showcase. Basically, excerpts from everything else I've written. I want to give new readers a chance to sample The Gaze, The Next Chapter, My Two Flags, and John & Ezekiel, not only to entice someone to pick up one of those novels for their next read, but also to remind myself that none of the countless hours of writing were spent in vain.
   I've accomplished more than I thought I ever could.
   I've gained some terrific new friends through the writing, and I've tasted the sweetness of success in readers' opinions.
   Transitions of any kind are notoriously painful, and it's easy to remain bugged down in regret and uncertainty that we miss the high points we all make for ourselves. Everything we do has meaning, especially stories born of an impulse to bring something to life on the page.
   REQUIEM allowed me to quiet all the discordant noise in my mind so I can hear the melody of life once again. It became more than a short story, and I can't wait to see it in someone else's hands.

   Javier A. Robayo

   ***This book is dedicated to the memory of two of my high school friends, who left us before their time, Christopher Papp and Joe Budahazy. We will meet again, brothers.

REQUIEM is available from Amazon and javierrobayoauthor.com

Sing

   She approached me slowly, hesitantly, just a child hoping not to disturb her father. 
   I chose to leave the blog post for another day and turned to my daughter Kendra. Nine years old on the outside, older than time in many ways. I took a second to take in the face before me, not the visage of a little kid, but a refined bone structure that transcends simple prettiness. She tucked her long dark hair behind her ears and grinned like a sage selfishly hoarding a wondrous secret.
   "I have a dilemma."
   No need to even ask her if she knows what the word means. She goes through books the way I go through "digital ink."
   "Project Adventure starts this week, but this is also the last week of chorus practice before our winter concert."
   Kendra has been talking about Project Adventure since hearing about it during orientation at her new school. Joel Elementary gives its students a chance to participate on a week of fun physical activities to combat the typical cabin fever that takes over when the climate turns cold. As soon as she heard the words "zip line" she knew she wanted to do nothing else.
   "So...I don't know what to do."
   "Well, talk to your teacher and if you want to do well at the concert, ask your chorus teacher to give you the songs you'll be singing and I'll help you practice."
   I was not prepared for the wide eyes and the sudden look of abject horror on her face. 
   "You mean...you'd hear me sing?"
   "Well, yeah. That's kind of how it works."
   "But I can't sing in front of people."
   It was my turn to look shocked. I have a video clip that proves her wrong, so wrong. Unknown to Mommy and me, Kendra can carry a tune better than she even knows. "You just sang in front a group of veterans and you did it really well. What do you mean you can't sing in front of people?"
   She stammered that it was easier with a group although in the clip, she's the only one singing; one of the tougher lines of "America The Beautiful" no less. After a back and forth conversation about singing in front of an audience, I sensed the answer was far simpler.
   "What if someone laughs at me?" She confirmed my suspicions.
   When your child asks a question, someone up there hits you with a fleeting bolt of wisdom, just enough enlightenment to fulfill your parental role in the life of a new soul. This was one of those moments. "Do you like to sing?"
   "I love to sing," she replied, her hazel eyes glittering.
   "Sing for yourself first," I told her. When she continued to stare blankly at me, I added, "Look, ever since you held that crayon with your left hand and put on fashion shows for me, I knew you had an artistic streak, and artists do whatever it is they do for themselves first. They don't care what anyone else will think of them because they're doing something that makes them happy."
   Tears filled her eyes though I didn't know why. 
   "But kids make fun of other kids."
   Hard to believe, considering the lengths she'll go to, being a goofball for anyone else. "Yeah, but you have no problem being a clown with your friends."
   "Well, I'm a comedian," she laughed.
   "Comedians are courageous."
   "They are?"
   "Of course they are. They act all weird and say silly things, knowing that some people are not going to like them or laugh. It takes a lot of courage to get up on a stage and tell a group of people a joke they may not find funny."
   "Then why do comedians do it?"
   I imagined myself coming off like a sage, so I leaned in and looked her in the eye, enjoying my movie moment. "Because, Kendra." I paused for effect. "They love to make themselves laugh first."
   We shared a long silence, and a sparkle in her gaze told me she understood.
   "Singing is a gift to be shared. I heard you sing for the Vets and you were great. You held each note, your voice had volume, and it sounded amazing. It really did. It really surprised me. It'd be a shame not to let others hear your voice."
   A grateful little tear trickled down her cheek before she smiled and thanked me. She promised to get a list of the songs for the concert and now looks forward to practicing with me. 
   Once I got back to this blog, I realized that perhaps that enlightenment that comes at those father/daughter talk moments, was also meant for myself.
   I've questioned why keep writing.
   I've questioned it like never before. Some practical voice inside me often protests the time committed to write and all the work that yields such little results. Another cynic voice often wonders why even try when every possible storyline has already been told. Some reproaching voices scream at me to stop trying, to stop filling Facebook feeds with book ads that are often ignored completely; to stop posting reviews that elicit very little response from others; to stop anxiously waiting for a promised review that's never going to come; to stop writing so the risk of hearing my stories are boring no longer exists. Time to put the time into getting a real job or a degree that will turn work into better living. Time to lose the illusion of finding you novel in the hands of millions. Time to accept no one will ever care about making a film out of your scripts. Time to move on and meet your responsibilities with a better arsenal than millions of words that yield nothing but a bank account in the red.
   When times are tough, those voice are loudest and much of myself agrees with them but...
   Writing makes me happy.
   I've stopped caring about what anyone will say of my flawed Samantha because she taught me strength while Lewis taught me to be true to myself. I ached over the decisions they made just like I gritted my teeth as John saw no way out of his losses until he somehow realized that once you hit rock bottom you can finally stand. Ken Glass managed to rearrange my perspective on death, perseverance, and the melody life can really be, and Tony reminded me to rely on family and solid friendships to surge ahead. 
   I write for myself. I write because I simply need it the way I need to breathe to live, and because more than a few people contacted me to let me know my stories touched them, changed them, and affected them. At that point writing became a gift to give and how could I leave those few people wondering where Gwen came from; or what will become of Patricia or what's the name Brooke Elizabeth chose?
   I realize many who read this post have no idea whom I'm speaking of, and I apologize for that. But there's one thing I've learned through trying to infuse my daughter with the courage to shine before an audience, and give her gift to it. I learned I wrote the stories for me, just like many of you have written your stories for yourselves, and oh, how they shine when that passion comes through each line. How those wonderful characters come alive when the author breathed soul into them: Cassidy Jones, Jay the Treeman and Jodi, "Daddy" Edwards, Beck and McSwain, Zack in heaven, Anna in France, SUKI, Chayton and Montana, Mauricio, Hattie, and thousand others that live in those stories...
   Apologies to practicality, common sense, reality, and responsibility. Writing is a gift to be given.
   Like the comedian who distorts his face to elicit a laugh, like the singer who works so diligently to hit that high E and turn a voice into a godly caress, like the painter who gives life and light into a two-dimensional canvas, like the sculptor that carves the statue out of a block of stone, and like the many of you who answer the what-ifs and make sense of your triumphs and failures through spending copious amounts of digital ink, mainly in hopes of answering your own questions...
   I write.
   
   ©2013 Javier A. Robayo 

Monster Mash

   Halloween is by far my favorite holiday. It's not the candy. Never was much of a sweet tooth, really. It's the brisk night air, the scent of wood fires, and the undercurrent of excitement as everyone tries to figure out what to be.

   What to be...

   What other holiday offers you the chance to be someone else, if only for one night. One night you put your life as you on pause, and become someone or something else. It's quite the thrill for everyone, especially for kids, but I never thought I'd see a whole community take part in the festivities the way Clinton, Connecticut did during the annual Monster Mash at Joel Elementary.

   My wife, Sheri, met the incomparable Paul Gebauer, his lovely wife, Olga, and their impish little cutie, Tessa at Clinton Beach over the summer. During my first conversations with Paul, he couldn't say enough about the parents involvement with school. That was the first time I heard about the Monster Mash.

   "The school is transformed," Paul said. "You won't even recognize the place!"

   He went on to tell me about years past and how much fun it was to be a part of it. 

   Now that I can actually be a part of my kids' life in a greater capacity since I no longer work shifts at a steel mill, I volunteered to help.

   Soon I met the one, the only, Julie Mendez, who takes the word Dynamo to a whole other stratosphere. Julie led a troop of Friends of Joel, parents of Joel students, on the project of turning the school hallways into a Halloween extravaganza. Monster Mash is a fund raising function. Now knowing much about my new town, I didn't know what to expect.

   Local businesses donated materials, paint, and Julie provided the group with supplies as she outlined the fantasy world we set out to create. 

   We turned the gymnasium into a game hall where kids were able to spend some energy and even win a few prizes. Students from Morgan, Pierson, and Elliot volunteered their time manning the games and entertaining little Spider Men, Dorothys, a plethora of Ninjas, an array of superheroes, including Supergirl, and all types of personalities from Disney movies as well as the staples of Halloween: witches, Draculas, Frankensteins, and werewolves.

   The games I helped set up were simple in design, but you wouldn't know it from the kids' reactions to hitting a strike by flattening paper bowling pins, putting a beanbag through Franky's belly, picking the winning color at roulette, knocking over "punkins" off the shelf, and even landing the pumpkin on the winning ribbon at plinko, (which several parents told me was from The Price is Right. Never knew that...)

   We even set up funny mirrors. You know, the kind where your image is distorted. Kids got a kick out of seeing themselves elongated and shortened. It must be noted that many people, myself included, stood for several minutes in front of the thinning mirror. I know it made me want to start running again.

   Few things in life bring more joy than the smile of a child, and it was a privilege to evoke more than a few. But the games were of course, NOT the main event.

   Leaving the gym, parents and kids went to a galaxy far, far away, and met none other than Jabba the Hut from the unforgettable Star Wars sags. The display built by Rob King and his crew was nothing short of a masterpiece. Jabba moved his arms, blinked, and even licked his green lips as kids stared wearily. Some of the little ones actually froze in fear. If I let my imagination wonder, I'd swear I was looking at a real Jabba. I can't even imagine what kids felt. Han Solo, Rob, the Jedi Knight, let them over an ingenious ramp of bulletproof glass. Beneath it, one of the Star Wars monsters pawed for candy and would suddenly fill the screen with his hideous face, making kids jump or run straight into a frozen lair, where Luke Skywalker hung in an ice cave. 

  After negotiating through the icy stalagmites, the yellow brick road extended past the timeless characters of The Wizard of Oz. Magic continued to be the theme as the hallway turned into the dim halls of the wizard world of Harry Potter. Potions, spell books, and treats no Mogul was allowed to enjoy, created an aura of mystery. 

   The corner rounded into the rabbit hole and Alice in Wonderland and company took over the scene, leading the crowd into the realm of Pixie Hollow then on to lands of witches, and into the "Punkin Hall". 

   Every time I think I've seen it all when it comes to decorating a pumpkin, I'm shocked by the ingenuity inspired by the spirit of Halloween. I felt sorry for the judges of the Pumpkin Contest. I could've stared at those for hours. Minions, angry birds, even a Teenage Ninja Turtle version of a pumpkin, gave the hall an attractive pallet of color and style. It might have even lessened the effect of the standing coffin where my buddy, Bones, grinned at passerby as they entered the promised land where baked treats and candy awaited.

   When time ran out, I watched in awe as the parents and their troops of volunteers turned Joel Elementary back into the school they know and love. Some kids went hunting for souvenirs and word has it that Jabba the Hut might have even found a home.

   I can't give the parents involved enough credit. The kids who volunteered to play games with the littler ones, and even help in the assembly and cleanup, also deserve credit. It was a terrific experience and I'm thrilled I got to be a small part of it.

   To say that Julie Mendez and Friends of Joel did an amazing job of putting Monster Mash together is a gross understatement. A lot of thought and hard work went into it, and the raised money goes right back into the school so the real winners are the students at Joel Elementary, and the entire community in the long run.

   Paul Gebauer was right. I couldn't believe how fun it was. Mostly, I was in awe of the way so many people worked together to make Monster Mash such a success.

   "I already can't wait for next year," Paul said, already thinking ahead about building new games.

   I'm with Paul on that one. I can't wait either. In fact, I'm already thinking of what to be...

   Javier A. Robayo

The Power of a Review

   When Monica La Porta talked me into holding a promotion to gain some exposure with my novel, The Gaze, I thought about it for far too long before making the decision to go ahead with it. I had my doubts and truthfully, the thought of giving away a novel that required so much work did not sit well with me. However, wise as always, Monica delivered the right piece of advice.
   After successfully promoting her novel, The Priest, Monica shared with me a list of sites that cater to the ebook reading community. Many of these sites invite authors to promote their work, and although I cannot speak for each of them, many of them required your book had at least 15 positive reviews.
   The Gaze held 36 reviews at the time, and I've been honored by my readers with incredible praise and nothing but four and (35) five star reviews.
   One of the promoters sent me an email to congratulate me on getting a spot on their page. The administrator of the site went on to tell me they only place up to 10 titles on their page for a limited time, and that they carefully consider the review factor. That's the deal maker for these sites. After all, they have a reputation to establish and protect.
   At the onset of the promo, my Sheri asked how many downloads I expected.
   "Realistically, if I get some two hundred and fifty, I'll be pretty happy. No one out there really knows me or my work, you know."
   Sheri gave me a little smile and added, "Well, that's readers you wouldn't have had before, right?"
   The promo began last Friday, Oct 25th. I checked the numbers at about 7:30am. 
   Six.
   Six downloads. At that pace, I figured I'd do well to expect no more than a hundred or so.
   But...
   I had asked my friends on Facebook to please share a series of illustrated posts containing quotes from the story along with the link. I don't like the promotional duties of an Indie Author. There's such a fine line between tasteful awareness and outright spam, and I did not want to be the guy splashing the feed with the same line to go download The Gaze for free on Kindle, and blah blah blah...
   I hope to have made the ads enticing, easy to look at, and I hope the call to action was somewhat subtle. Not a scream to go download the book now! But more of a friend informing another, hey, this book is pretty good and it's free. You should get it.
   In that last phrase, "this book is pretty good", has to come from someone else, not the author. Of course the author will proclaim his work a masterpiece. Why not? 
   And boy did they ever...
   I received emails from readers with quote suggestions. Friends shared my posts on Facebook and their friend shared their posts. Twitter friends of mine added their own tweets and the reach was never more real than when the download count hit 1,000.
   People were telling their friends to take a chance on my novel, often with a "Look at the reviews!" 
   Reviews hold tremendous power in anything and everything. From lawn equipment to shoes to novels, we want to know what others like us thought of the product. The manufacturer will always tell us what they offer is the best of it all, but that's what they're supposed to do. 
   With books, the reviews are often much more personal and if we, as authors, are lucky enough to get a reader to connect to some part of the story, whether with a character or a plot line, and evoke an emotional response that compels them to post a review, good or bad, then we have advanced further in our path.
   The promo will end tomorrow at 11:59pm, as declared by Amazon. 
   After that, it'll be somewhat agonizing to wait for reviews to appear on the book page, so long as some readers become fans and time allows, of course. 
   Readers, when you come across a great read, I promise you, nothing short of a movie contract will help that author more than your review. The biggest triumph an author can attain is not a pile of cash, as welcome as that may be, it is having an audience to whom to deliver what the voices in our heads tell us to write.
   I cannot emphasize how important reviews are, and I thank each and every one of my reviewers, who inspire me to bring them the best out of my writing with each new piece. 
   The reviews I have on The Gaze are what propelled this promotions from an expected couple of hundred downloads to over 2,571
   2,572...
   2,573...
   I can't wait to see what the final number is, and to all my new readers, I look forward to your thoughts.
   Thank you.

   Javier A. Robayo