Dear Beach,
Warm sand scrunching between your toes… cool white foam lined waves crashing on the current… hot
Vitamin-
D rays beaming down from a clear blue universe… floating sphere of fire setting as a glowing luminosity
rises… crackling pit of flames sparking into the darkness while genuine conversations fill the breeze over
cold
coronas…
We all need that one place where we can truly unwind and unplug from the daily madness that adds to
our
everlasting insomnia. A place where every worry, fear, doubt and concern slips into a coma. A place
where
technology isn’t allowed to be super-glued to our hands and eyes.
We all need that unscheduled time where the only responsibilities to be accounted for are laughter from
inside jokes amongst family and friends… creating memories to add to our lanes… one too many over
stuffed s’mores being inhaled… walks along the waves indulging in the beautiful scenery of endless
ocean… becoming mesmerized by the faceted ombre sunset painted on Mother Nature’s canvas…
What I just described to you is my sanctuary. Dull or boring are never scheduled on my calendar, but
days of
escaping are. Beach… this one syllable word is my morphine that numbs the chaos of the constant
insanity
that my mind is shifted into. I have no worries when sand and ocean are in the presence of my eyes. I
feel like
myself instead of the version that’s expected. This is the one place where I can just be.
Did you edit any part out of your book?
Almost…the letter written to my Nana was almost deleted. The relationship between her and I was a mixture of manipulation
and games, especially I grew older. Biting my tongue and acting as though I liked her when she became sick was the hardest
thing I’ve ever done in my life. So much anger and unanswered questions rose when she passed, so many people coming up to
me at her funeral telling me that she always talked about how proud of me she was…words that stung like heel in the most
confusing way. I only felt as though I was nothing but a chess piece and disappointment to her. That letter had to be written, I
needed to let everything out, I needed to heal. So, Nana made it into the book.
If you could tell your younger writer’s self anything, what would it be?
I’d tell myself that what you write about needs to be your own, don’t write what you think others want to read. Write what
makes you tick, what makes you smile, what makes you cry and even what makes you swear. Some of the best pieces start
with the “wtf” thoughts. Remain genuine with your words, never write unpassionately because that will read evidently. Push
boundaries and challenge the “normal”. Lastly and most importantly, keep writing, never stop.
Be original or deliver what the audience wants?
Let’s face it, you’ll never 100% deliver what the audience wants because the spectrum of tastes and opinions is too wide.
Always be original, place your twist on the world and deliver a new perspective into the reader’s mindset. Be you boo because
being a copy never works.
