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Marcus Lopés

LGTBQIA2S+ Author, Blogger, Runner

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Writing Off the Grid

Standing on the Edge

July 26, 2018 by Marcus 1 Comment

Do you know what you want out of life?

If the answer is yes, do you know what you need to do to achieve it?

I know I want to be a writer. Wait a minute … I am a writer. I want to be a successful writer, the kind who makes a living from it. Maybe that means trying to become a New York Times or Globe and Mail bestselling author. Maybe that means going on a book tour. Maybe that means giving up my day job so I can throw all my energy into realizing my dream.

Maybe it means none of that.

Because I’m in crisis. I’ve been in crisis mode since the beginning of the year. I’m stuck in a ‘funk’ that, despite what I thought, I haven’t been able to pull myself out of completely. I keep asking myself: “What am I doing?” and “What’s wrong?” and “What is it that doesn’t feel right?”

At Issue

Earlier this week I was in London, a city that has been like my home away from home since January. During my stay, I made a stop a Daunt Books on Marylebone High Street. While I was there, I picked up a book that had been recently recommended to me: Ray Dalio’s Principles. Afterwards, I stopped for a latte and scone at a café a few blocks away. It was a beautiful day, about 29°C, and the sun was shining. People were milling about the streets, weaving in and out of the shops. As I sipped my latte, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

I had a little time before meeting friends for dinner so, soaking up the bright afternoon sun, I opened the book and started reading. By the third page of the “Introduction,” my heart was in my throat. Reading Dalio’s first principle, I finally understood what was wrong … why I haven’t been able to lift myself out of that funk. Dalio’s first principle is this: “Think for yourself to decide 1) what you want, 2) what is true, and 3) what you should do to achieve #1 in light of #2 … and do that with humility and open-mindedness so that you can consider the best thinking available to you.” [note]Ray Dalio, Principles, Simon & Schuster, 2017, p. X.[/note]

Like I mentioned above, I know what I want: to be a successful writer. But what I need to do is have a frank conversation with myself — acknowledging my weaknesses and my strengths — about what that success looks like. Or maybe the better question for me to ask is what level of success am I looking for and can I live with it?

What is true… I know why I write (to make an impact in the world, no matter how small) and that writing is the only thing in life that gives me purpose and a sense of fulfillment. It is a way for me to be of service.

Where I struggle is in what I should be doing to achieve what I want in light of what is, for me, true. That is why this year has felt like I’m just spinning and going nowhere fast. When I’m honest with myself, I’m still letting fear — of failure and what others may think of me — hold me back. To achieve what I want, I need to do things in ways that I believe are best for me and not worry about what other people think. No doubt, that’s easier said than done.

Moving Forward

2018 started out with some big changes in my life. I stopped drinking. I started paying closer attention to what I was eating, aiming to reduce my sugar and sodium intake. While I’ve been running for ten years, I’ve been pushing myself to run longer distances and started working out. These were the changes I implemented to primarily increase my energy level and improve the quality of my sleep. And the best part of all was that I also managed to drop close to twenty pounds. It wasn’t easy, but the results have made it all worthwhile.

Now, to achieve what I want to do I know I need to make other changes. I have my “5 Rules to Live By” to guide me through this transition period, but I know they’re not enough on their own. They’re a starting point. What exactly do I need to change? Honestly, I’m not sure. But I’m going to take some time to dig deep and think about the principles that will help me to get out of life exactly what I want. One thing is certain: I’m terrified. I don’t know where it’s all going to lead, how uncomfortable it’s going to get, or if I’ll even succeed.

But to succeed, I must change my habits and stay focused on what’s really important to me. As my journey moves forward, I expect to make mistakes along the way. At this point in my life, I have nothing to lose and everything to gain.

I’ve been standing on the edge too long. It’s time to step off the edge and look fear in the face.

Are you doing what you should to achieve what you want? Do you have any principles that help you navigate through life? Let me know in the comments section below.

Filed Under: Writing Life Tagged With: artists, change, creativity, doubt, dreams, failure, fear, goals, lessons learned, life lessons, life-changing, success, writers, writing, writing life

Writing Sober: How I Changed the Script

July 16, 2018 by Marcus 3 Comments

On 17 January 2018, I changed the script. I stopped drinking. Not because I was being pressured to. Not because I didn’t know my limit. Not because alcohol was ravaging my life. I stopped drinking because I had to get my house in order. I was at a point where I couldn’t keep up with the big life questions being thrown at me. And worst of all … I couldn’t hear the answers.

Yes, it’s been 180 days since I stopped drinking. Actually, I did more than that. I decided not to consume foods that were prepared with alcohol in any way. No more boeuf bourguignon, coq au vin or tomato-vodka sauce. No more Baileys chocolate mousse.

Giving up alcohol wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. And, surprisingly, I didn’t miss it. I didn’t miss the glass of Kumeu River chardonnay with dinner or the mimosa when I went out for Sunday brunch. I didn’t miss meeting up with friends for a beer at Belfast Love. Life is a series of choices, and saying no to alcohol made me think about the choices before me — not only about food and drink, but also about my life.

I’m in my mid-forties now (I turn forty-five in August), and I’ve been building a career as a writer for a long time. Some days, though, I feel like it’s now or never. It’s not like I feel anymore that I need to quit my day job and write full-time, although I’d love to. It’s more about whether I’m doing all that I can to move forward? And that uncertainty and doubt send me into a panic. Do you know what I mean? I still keep writing. Every day. I keep showing up when I feel ‘bored’ or like I should give up. Despite my success — and there have been successes as much as failures throughout this journey — it’s hard at times not to keep asking myself, “What’s the point?”

What’s the point? is a question that can motivate me to keep pushing forward even when I don’t feel like it. Or it can stop me in my tracks. The latter terrifies me the most because it seizes upon my doubts and fears. It has the power to throw me off course. That’s dangerous because I’m trying to stay focused and be the best version of myself. Oprah Winfrey says it best: “All of us are seeking the same thing. We share the desire to fulfill the highest, truest expression of ourselves as human beings.”[note]Oprah Winfrey, The Wisdom of Sundays, Flatiron Books, p. 8, 2017[/note]

Staying Sober

What’s the point? I’m asking myself that less and less. As I’m striving to fulfill that ‘highest, truest expression’ of myself, the question that keeps popping up is this: How can I be of service? That’s a huge change that came with staying sober. It’s about how the Universe, through my words and my life, is trying to use me for a good greater than myself. And I still believe that through my writing, that greater good is about helping others get to the other side of forgiveness. It’s why I show up every day to write. It’s my calling. And I’ve heeded the call.

Sober, there simply is … clarity. I can see beyond the goal of commercial success that I’ve been — involuntarily or not — chasing after. It’s not about me trying to become a New York Times bestselling author. If it were, Lord have mercy, I’m doing it all ‘wrong.’ I’ve understood that being a writer is about falling in love with the process of writing. And I’m head over heels in love.

Going sober was a choice for me and a lot of people have weighed in on my decision. They tell me that, when the time is right, I’ll reintroduce alcohol into my life. But, honestly, I don’t see that happening. Not because of the weight I’ve lost (fifteen pounds through other dietary changes and exercise) or the money I’ve saved. Staying sober has become for me a state of being that helps me feel fulfilled by being of service, contributing to my community and the world. Staying sober brings those big life questions into focus and allows me to hear the answers when life speaks to me. Staying sober gives me the greatest chance at living my best life.

Sober, I’m living life the best way I know how.

Are you staying focused? Do you think you’re living your best life? How are you being of service? I’d love to hear your thoughts, so let me know in the comments section below.

Filed Under: Writing Life Tagged With: amwriting, be yourself, belonging, blog, blogging, change, fulfillment, happiness, procrastination, productivity, self-acceptance, self-love, sobriety, writing, writinglife

It’s a Crazy World

June 29, 2018 by Marcus Leave a Comment

It’s a crazy world out there, and some days I struggle to make sense of it all. And the advent of social media hasn’t helped, either. Sometimes it’s hard not to think that Facebook, Twitter, SnapChat, Instagram et. al. have made living a lot more complicated. Or maybe more challenging. Or something altogether different.

Unfathomable. Bewildering. Messy.

The past few months have been all those things and more. From the much-anticipated return of Rosanne to its shocking demise to an unexpected spin-off, The Connors … without the ‘star.’ The tragic deaths of Kate Spade, Anthony Bourdain and Jackson Odell. In Ontario, the election of Doug Ford and the PC Party earlier this month — and the unquestionable futility of the first-past-the-post system. And everything about the Kardashians.

But from all these things comes a lesson: write your story … the way you want it told.

I’ve been writing my story for almost forty-five years. Sometimes it’s felt like a soap opera with dramatic plot twists, tears, secrets, lies and betrayal. Friends have come and gone from my life, although I’m extremely grateful for those who’ve remained over the years despite the distances that separate us. There’s been great love and heartbreak, joy and tragedy. There have been detours, backtracking and times when I’ve ‘disappeared.’ It hasn’t always been easy, but when you’re doing your best to live the life you want, there’s never a dull moment.

Dreams Give Life

In this crazy world — as we move along this great journey called life — we cannot be afraid to dream. Dreams give us hope for a better tomorrow. Dreams allow us to see our potential and who we can become. Dreams make us feel alive.

Dreams give us our voice, and it is up to us to decide how we want that voice to be heard. When I sit down to write every day, I’m telling the world, “I’m a writer, hear me roar!” When you touch your paintbrush to the canvas, you’re telling the world, “I’m an artist, hear me roar!” When you show up at the local mission to help those who are less fortunate, you’re telling the world, “I’m being of service, hear me roar!” It’s in these moments — through our actions — that we’re writing our story … the way we want it told.

We’re not letting anyone else speak for us. We’re not allowing someone else’s expectations dictate how we should act or who we should become. At the moment we commit to making our dreams come true, and with each daily action, we have taken a stand. We are awakened. We are cutting through all the noise and living the life we’ve imagined.

Yes, that’s the moment when — in this crazy world — we’re telling our story the way we want it told.

Are you telling your story the way you want it told? Let me know in the comments section below.

Filed Under: Writing Life Tagged With: artists, creativity, do what you love, dreams, productivity, social media, writers, writing, writinglife

Against His Will: Immersion

June 22, 2018 by Marcus Leave a Comment

Jonas, his gaze fixed on his phone, took a step forward when the line moved. He couldn’t shake the heaviness in his head, as if he’d been up all night drinking. He hadn’t. It was something worse than that. He had the dream again, waking up to soaked bedsheets, and his chest and back covered in sweat. By the time he cooled off and changed the bed, he was wide awake. That was at two thirty. Then he couldn’t get back to sleep. He drifted off at some point, and the next thing he heard was his alarm, The Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir singing, ‘Hallelujah Anyhow.’ He hit ‘Stop’ and closed his eyes. When he looked at his phone again, it was eight minutes to seven. His heart racing, he shot out of the bed and into the bathroom.

“Next!” a croaky voice called out.

Jonas raised his head and returned the smile of the sleepy-eyed redhead. “Morning, Seth. Late night?”

“Can’t really say it ended.” Seth laughed, which turned into a hacking cough. “Medium Americano?”

“Make it a large this morning.”

“Were we at the same party?” Seth winked.

“I don’t think so,” Jonas said, punching his PIN code into the keypad of the card reader. Once the transaction was approved, he yanked out his bank card and slipped it back into his wallet. “Have a good day.”

“You, too, Mr. Martin.”

Jonas moved towards the far end of the bar-counter to wait for his drink. He checked the time. It was almost eight and he was way behind schedule. Well, not really. It was more that his routine had been upended. Oversleeping, he hadn’t had time to write, and that was worse than if he’d had to go without coffee. He’d be irritable until he got in some writing time, which now probably wouldn’t be until lunchtime. His attention was back on his phone as he scrolled through his work e-mail, deleting messages he wasn’t going to respond to and flagging those he’d tackle once he was at his desk.

The chatter was on the rise, easily breaking Jonas’s focus. Now, whenever he looked up from his phone he cased the area. He heard that adenoidal voice and zeroed in on the woman wearing a vibrant, floral hoodie and who always ordered an extra hot vanilla bean latte. A few feet to his left he saw the tall brunette leaning down to kiss the petite blonde. They were married, just not to each other. He’d heard the man say, “My wife might get suspicious,” as they tried to plan a weekend getaway. Then Jonas focused on Seth, who tried to remain calm as the woman, elegantly dressed in a navy pants suit, complained that her cappuccino was too hot. Yesterday it was too cold. And, like every day, she held up the line as the barista made her a new drink.

“Large Americano for Mr. Martin,” the black-haired guy grunted from behind the counter.

Jonas ducked in quickly to pick up his drink. He didn’t like how the café staff called him Mr. Martin when they referred to the other customers by their first names. It felt like they were making a big deal about him, like he was a ‘celebrity.’ Maybe he was kind of famous, but he didn’t like to draw attention to himself. He went to the condiments table and stirred cream and a brown sugar sachet into his beverage. Then, as he started towards the exit, he froze. “What the…?” He stared curiously at the man seated at the table near the door.

“Good morning, Jonas,” Brent said. “Running a little late this morning?”

Jonas took a step forward. “What are you doing here?”

“Straight to the point.” Brent sipped his coffee. “I like that.”

“You’re right,” Jonas said, giving free reign to the frustration building inside of him. “I’m running late and don’t have time for this.”

Brent stood when Jonas went to leave. “I’d like to continue our conversation from yesterday.”

“I wasn’t interested then and I’m not interested now.” Jonas looked critically at Brent a moment longer before bolting out of the café. He’d made it to the first intersection where, waiting for the light to change, he felt a hand on his shoulder. “This isn’t funny,” he growled when Brent came into view.

“It’s not meant to be,” Brent said, removing his hand.

“It’s kind of creepy, actually.”

“You leave your condo almost every morning at six,” Brent said. “You’re at the café by quarter after and write for about an hour.”

Jonas, his eyes wide open, staggered backwards. “Are you stalking me?”

“You’re in your office by seven forty-five but don’t open the door until eight.” Brent spoke quickly so Jonas couldn’t interrupt. “You take your lunch from twelve thirty to one thirty, no exceptions. Most days, you leave the office at five thirty, and only stay later when it’s necessary. Outside of work, you spend a lot of time alone … writing. How many books have you published? Six, I believe. Thursday nights you have drinks with Jeff Baldwin, your best friend who still longs to be more than that. And at least twice a month you get together with Jeff, Cameron and a few others from university.” He paused. “You miss Ethan. You haven’t let anyone else into your life since his death and —”

“Who the fuck are you?” Jonas asked, his voice cracking.

“Like I’ve said before … someone who wants to talk to you about a job. I’d like you to hear me out.”

Jonas checked the time. “Look, I … I’ve got to go.”

“You’ve already called in sick today,” Brent said. “Check your phone.”

Jonas pulled out his phone and on the screen was a text message from his boss. Take all the time you need. Hope you’re feeling better soon. He levelled his gaze at Brent. “What the fuck is going on?”

“You’re not one to use so many expletives,” Brent said. “It’s one of the things we like about you. You’re always calm under pressure. That’s a great quality.”

“Who’s ‘we?’”

“Come with me. I’ll explain everything.” Brent started to move when the ‘Walk’ indicator appeared.

Jonas didn’t move. His head was spinning and he felt nauseous. What’s happening? What’s going on? It wasn’t until the ‘Don’t Walk’ signal flashed that he stepped into the street. There was a will far greater than his own that had him following Brent. Curiosity? Fear? Jonas didn’t know. But he couldn’t stop himself.

Ten minutes later, he and Brent entered the lobby of the World Exchange Plaza. They rode the elevator of Tower II to the seventh floor. They entered the suite of offices belonging to Atlas World Corp., greeted by a muscular brunette who signed him in as a ‘Visitor.’ When Jonas saw the gun holstered on the guy’s waist, he almost threw up his last mouthful of coffee.

“This way,” Brent said as he punched a code into the keypad next to the door behind the reception desk. At the clicking sound, Brent pushed it open.

Jonas could feel himself trembling as he walked towards Brent. He didn’t know what was on the other side of the door or if he really wanted to find out. All he knew was that walking through that door meant one thing.

His life would never be the same.

Filed Under: Short Stories Tagged With: amwriting, espionage, fiction, fictionfriday, flash fiction, life-changing, short story, spy, story, thriller, writing

Little Black Book

June 17, 2018 by Marcus Leave a Comment

I have a little black book. Since 1 July 2015, I’ve used it to track my workouts and weight. I can see the progress I’m making to improve my strength and endurance, and to (more recently) lose weight. Until yesterday, when I ran 21k, the last time I ran more than 15k was on 11 May. Shortly after that date, my hip started to bother me and I, involuntarily, reduced my running to heal. Taking the time to rest doesn’t come naturally to me. I like to be on the go, doing whatever I can to move my writing projects forward and to enjoy life. Be it a running injury or the common cold, things that sideline me — keep me from doing what I love — are inconvenient and irksome.

But now it’s back to normal. Sort of. As I’ve been easing back into my routine, or rather picking up the pieces, I’ve noticed something. I’ve had an unexpected, and unwanted visitor. Procrastination. It’s taken me a bit longer to get out the door running. Putting on a load of laundry, unloading the dishwasher or making a strawberry-rhubarb pie are quick tasks I decide to do just as I’m about to sit down at my desk to write. These things hamper my productivity. And, given my “5 Rules to Live By,” I should know better. When I let myself be distracted, I’m not focusing on the things that matter most. I’m not “fulfilling the highest, truest expression” of myself.

Why am I resisting the work?

Because I’m close to finishing something. A novel, actually. And if I take a few more steps forward, that means it’ll be out in the public domain for consumption. That’s always scary because I never know how it’ll be received. Will people like it? Will they hate it? Will it be a flop? I’ve given it my all and it’s a work I believe in. But that doesn’t stop me from imagining the worst. Still, I must keep moving forward. Why?

Finishing something reminds us as artists that we’ve shown up at the page, the easel, the piano, and dared to be faithful to who we are. We’ve succeeded at navigating through whatever hurdles that stood before us. Finishing something proves that we are resilient, and that we’ve taken to heart what Goethe told us: “Whatever you think you can do or believe you can do, begin it. Action has magic, grace and power in it.”

I open my second black book, this one slightly bigger, and, flipping through the pages, I realize that over the past couple of months I’ve laid a lot of track. Despite what I’ve thought, I’ve made progress. Injury and illness haven’t kept things at a standstill. I look at my to-do list and at the top is “Finish Changes to Manuscript.”

It’s time to sit down and begin that which I believe I can do.

How close are you to finishing something? What obstacles do you feel are standing in your way? Let me know in the comments section below.

Filed Under: Writing Life Tagged With: amwriting, be yourself, belonging, blog, blogging, doubt, fulfillment, happiness, procrastination, productivity, self-love, writing, writinglife

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