Jake Martinez's Blog

Here’s a little treat: the prologue that I originally wrote for The Mixtape to My Life. I was going to use it for The Mixtape to the Real Me, but it after thinking about it, I just decided to post it here. It hasn’t been edited, so please be kind.

Prologue – When the Children Cry

Sometime in the ’80s

I don’t know why, but sometimes I still think about that moment. The time I was late for school and didn’t make it to the bus. My brother and sister made it, but for some reason which I don’t quite remember, I didn’t. All I do remember is that I could hear the bus pulling up while I was brushing my teeth. I normally would have just run out after spitting, but I didn’t have my shirt on yet. So, as I was running out, the bus pulled away, and no one thought to tell them to stop. Not even my siblings.

That meant my mom had to take me to school before work. Which also meant she wasn’t happy about it. I got out of the car as quickly as I could. I was never one to want to listen to someone yelling at me, but I knew I would have to deal with it all later. I hated going to the office. That is where the bad kids went; the ones who always got in trouble and would come back all quiet. I wasn’t a bad kid, at least I didn’t think I was. No one else did too. I was often made fun of for always doing the right thing.

The secretary was on the phone when I walked in. I tried to give her the note my mom wrote in a hurry, but she just pointed to the row of chairs behind me. I really wanted just to run out and get to class, but Mrs. Kerns would have probably just sent me back. So, I sat and waited. And waited. And waited some more.

I hated waiting. I didn’t understand why she wouldn’t just stamp me through. She finally got off the phone and called me over.

“Note please,” she said. She read it over as I looked to the office door. I could hear the principal in her office. She was yelling at someone, but I couldn’t tell if it was a teacher or another student. “Young man, young man. Justin, look over here,” the secretary said while snapping her fingers at me. “Only dogs get their fingers snapped at,” my mom would say. If she were here, she would have let this woman have it.

I looked at her. She handed the note back over to me. “There isn’t a last name on it.” I wasn’t sure what she wanted me to do. “I don’t have a pencil.” The secretary sighed and took the note back.

“Last name.”

“Or-tey-ga,” I said, somewhat sheepishly.

“Excuse me.”

“Or-tey-ga.” I was getting nervous. I didn’t know why, but even at my young age, I felt like this wasn’t going to be a conversation I wanted to have.

She shook her head. “You need to start saying it correctly. You don’t want people making fun of you. Right?”

It was my turn to shake my head. I didn’t want people to make fun of me. They already made fun of me for a lot of things; for being fat, for being smart, for not being able to kick a football far, so I didn’t want another.

She said a few words in Spanish. I knew a few of them, but not the rest. That made it hard to understand what she was trying to tell me. She said a few more but stopped. I knew I was supposed to say something back, but I wasn’t sure. I just smiled and nodded. That would later be a habit that I had to use more than once in my life.

The secretary rolled her eyes and gave me the pass to take to my teacher. She mumbled something under her breath as I left. She didn’t think I heard her, but I did. I kept repeating it the whole way to the classroom.

“Pinche coconut.”

People had given me nicknames before. My abuelito called me “viejito,” because according to him, I acted and talked older than he did. The name stuck, and my mom called me it too. But this, this one I had never heard before.

That was the first time I realized how different I was from some of the others. It, unfortunately, wouldn’t be the last. There would be other times later. I would also hear other words, words that I just like that one, where I wouldn’t know what they meant until years later.

But that wasn’t what really stuck in my mind. As I was walking back to class, staring down at my late pass, (since you know, late passes were one of the worst things an elementary student can carry), I suddenly heard a voice call out to me.

“Hi there,” another kid said as I walked by him. I waved back. Even back then I was awkward and didn’t know how to act around people. The boy was chubby like me, but he had slightly darker skin and very bright green eyes. He waved, smiled big and kept on walking. I would see him again every now and then on the playground. We wouldn’t talk, but we would wave at each other every time. It was weird, but for some reason, I really looked forward to it. I didn’t have a lot of friends, or any for that matter, but when I saw him, it felt like I did. Pathetic, maybe, but at least there was someone out there that was willing to smile and wave at me; that made a lot of difference.

But I didn’t think it would last. This was fifth grade, which meant that in a few months, we would all move on to junior high. That meant the boy (whose name I never asked for) might go to another school. That made me sad. Really sad.

***

I was hoping that sixth grade would be better than fifth grade. I was prepared. I read a lot of books about kids my age moving on to junior high (or middle school as some of them called it) and they all had pretty much the same story: shy kid with no friends doesn’t fit in at first, then finds his place.

I was nervous, but at least now I would finally be able to be in band. Last spring, students from Washington Elementary were invited to Liberty Junior High to find the instrument or activity that interested them the most. At first, I wanted to try the saxophone, but then I saw the percussion area. So many different choices, so many things to try. Xylophones, snares, timpani’s, all of it just pulled me in.

“Are you sure?” my mom asked.

I nodded and signed up. Band was second period, which meant I would have to wait after my first class before I could finally get my hands on one of those precious instruments. I would just have to endure math first. That was another thing I was really excited about. Changing classes, at least to me, was a big deal. It made me feel older, less like a kid, and more like an adult. I liked that feeling.

We didn’t do much that first day. The teacher just talked about what she expected, and we each had stand up and talk about ourselves. I hated that, but since I was working on a new me, I tried to do it

A Few Years Later

It felt like any other day. I was sitting alone at lunch, like I often did, enjoying the peace away from the loud gatherings around me. It’s not that I didn’t want to sit with people, or that they didn’t want me to sit with them, but I just felt awkward about it. I mean, I know people thought of me as a nerd, but so were a lot of other people. There was just something about me that some felt the additional need to make fun of. I was blissfully unaware of why until that day, the day my stomach hurt from eating my pizza too fast, and I really needed to go to the restroom. Sometimes that happened.

Luckily it was still early enough during lunch that hardly anyone was out of the cafeteria. Nothing was worse than being caught doing anything number two related in the bathroom, especially when you were already made fun of for other reasons. I finished up and hurried out of the stall, glad that I was still alone. As I was washing my hands, a guy named Ivan came into the restroom. I knew him from football. My dad had asked me to give being on the team that year a try, and they normally took everyone, so I figured what the hell if it will get him to stop hounding me, I can deal with it. He was one of the assistant coaches at the high school, and I knew one of his dreams was to have me on the team with him. One problem: I was terrible.

Dad wasn’t too crazy about me being in band, though when I chose the drums, he was partially relieved. I heard telling my mom he was worried about me picking the flute or piccolo. My stubborn ass was almost tempted to change just to see what he would say.

Ivan took one look at me then walked right out. I wasn’t sure what was going on exactly, though I made sure to check that I didn’t have any toilet paper stuck to me. I didn’t think anything else of it until I turned off the water. Once it was off, I could hear what was going on outside loud and clear.

“There’s a fag in the guy’s bathroom.” A voice screamed. It was Ivan’s. I could tell because he had a slight accent that was thicker than most people’s in South Texas. Other voices instantly eclipsed him.

“What.”

“What do you mean?”

“Who?”

I was afraid to walk out. But I knew I had to. If I stayed in here, they would be able to corner me. I had never thought of myself as a fag, gay or whatever, and this was undoubtedly the first time I had heard that word used about me. Was there something those guys knew that I didn’t?

My hand was shaking as I opened the door. I almost couldn’t do it, but I forced myself. I walked out of there but kept my eyes close to the ground. I didn’t want them to know I had heard everything. The fact that I was worried might make them think that everything Ivan was screaming about was true.

“Look, there he is.”

“Where?”

“Over there.”

“Quien?”

“I just see Justin.”

“That’s him. Justin.”

“Dude, shut up. He’s not a fag; he’s on the team with us. He’s just quiet.” That last one came from Dominic Mendoza, another guy from the team. A guy with the most perfect pair of green eyes I had ever seen. Sometimes in the locker room, I would take a few peeks at him just to see them. Oh, how I envied those green eyes. Ha, I was green with envy for them.

“No, he’s a fag, I know it. Don’t you see the way he walks.” I stopped. I didn’t want to, but those words felt like it needed my attention.

“Shut up Ivan,” I screamed. “You walk the same way.”

A chorus of ooo’s filled the hallway. Somehow that helped defuse the situation, but not for long. Ivan started charging towards me, like a bull that found a red object. I froze. I had never been in that situation before. I didn’t know what to do. Ivan continued to charge, and I braced myself. I closed my eyes and waited for the impact. But it never came. Ivan was stopped by Dominic, who had him on the ground and pounced on him.

The principal called our parents to the office. That was a first for me. They went in to speak to the principal without us.

“What do you think will happen?” Dominic asked.

“I don’t know.”

We heard yelling but couldn’t make out the words. I kept staring at the floor until I felt something brush up against my hand. It was Dominic. A few more minutes passed, and suddenly Dominic’s dad appeared. His hand was still on mine but not for long.

“And keep your faggot son away from mine.” He yelled back towards the office, then took Dominic by the arm and led him out. Dominic’s mom followed. She didn’t look at me. She just walked out in a hurry.

“Justin, come in here please.”

And just like that, I was off the team. That was a blow to my dad. But the principal and coach (who just happened to be there) felt it was for the best. No distractions were needed. So now I was a coconut, faggot and a distraction.

Dad didn’t say a word on the drive home. That wasn’t a good sign. At least when he was yelling, you could tell something. Later that night my parents would yell in Spanish. Also, not a good sign.

I couldn’t sleep that night. I just kept hearing there’s a fag in the bathroom repeatedly. I shared a room with my brother, so I was trying not to move too much in the bottom bunk since he could feel almost everything in the top bunk. The radio was already on since he couldn’t sleep without music, so I decided to change it to the hard rock station. Late at night they often played hair metal power ballads, which was my secret addiction.

I couldn’t turn on my light, so I fumbled over to the boombox and moved the dial in the direction I knew the station would be. Once I heard a guitar riff, I knew I was on the right one. White’ Lions “When the Children Cry” was the song playing, and it gave me the perfect sound for the way I was feeling.

As I was letting Mike Tramp’s vocals sink in, I couldn’t help but go back to what happened in the bathroom. What if something terrible had happened to me? What if Dominic hadn’t been there? Would the other guys have believed Ivan? Why did Dominic beat up on him?

Then something strange happened. My mind floated away from the other faces and focused only on one: Dominic. I couldn’t believe what he had done. We had never really talked before, and maybe only high-fived a few times at practice, but that was it. I would look at him a few times, but I convinced myself it was because I admired his body and eyes. He caught me a few times but never said anything.

But he stood up for me. He even smiled when he did it. I was smiling now too and eventually drifted off into a deep, sleep. Tomorrow would be another day.

We never spoke again, and he moved after the year was over. Forty-five minutes away. A short drive from my home of McAllen, Texas to Rio Grande City, but still oh so far away to my thirteen-year-old heart. I would never see him again, yet I always had him in my thoughts and dreams.

What an interesting time this has been. When I started on this publishing journey last year, I never imagined getting such a great response to The Mixtape to My Life. This week especially has been a wild ride. I have to say that my eyes have opened to a lot things, which is why I decided I would write about the lessons I’ve learned throughout this extremely joyful, stressful, and ultimately satisfying process.

It’s Okay for People to Not Like Your Book

This is the most important lesson I think I’ve learned from all this. We all know that reviews help sell books. That’s why I submitted my book to two review sites (ones similar to Kirkus but way more affordable) and to Netgally via a co-op program from Xpresso Book Tours. When you do this, the one thing to keep in mind is that you(might (as in probably) will get negative reviews. All books have them, even some of your faves. But it’s okay. Stressing over them won’t do you any good. It will sting, believe me, but you have to remember that the reviews aren’t necessarily for you; they are for readers to make an informed decision on your book. Bad reviews aren’t always a death sentence, and sometimes they actually do contain info that will help you along the way. If someone wants your book, they will buy it.

Reach Out to Other Authors

One thing that I’m really glad I did was reach out to other authors via social media. I like using Twitter and Instagram, but you can use what you feel will work best for your own personal strategy. Initially, I reached out for blurbs, but what I got in return was so much more. We are all in the same boat, and the advice and encouragement I’ve received from authors such as Julian Winters, Chase Conners, Chris Bedell, and Dylan James has helped me navigate this process with a lot more confidence than I thought I had.

Please note: if you are reaching out for blurbs, check their author sites first to see if there is a specific process. Some only take the requests through agents, while others use contact forms. Never just reach out via a tweet.

Have Your Marketing Plan Ready Early On

Writer’s go with indie publishers for a variety of reasons. It has many advantages, however the one where it takes more work is marketing. They (such as Deep Hearts YA, the publisher that took a chance on me) will do their best to get the word out, but you will also have to make sure you are shouting about your book from the rooftops in order for it to get noticed. Almost every site you go to will have a strategy, and while some things will work for you, others won’t. Here is what I tried:

Set up this site for free on WordPress.Got more active on Instagram and Twitter.Set up a Spotify playlist. (check those out by going to the link above or the Spotify icon below).Blogged at least once a week.Started following similar authors.Signed up with Xpresso Book Tours for their Netgalley package. Set up a book blitz with YA Bound Book Tours. Set up a spotlight post/interview with YA Books Central.Submitted a guest post to LGBTQ Reads.Contacted similar authors to see if they would be willing to provide a blurb.Contacted podcasts such as the Big Gay Fiction Podcast to see if they were interested in reviewing my book.

All of this took a lot of time and effort (and yes, some money of my own) to do, but in the end I think it was worth it. Now, not everyone is able to pay for some of these services, and that’s fine. You can actually contact blogs on your own and see if they will let you post about your book. Plus, there are plenty of review sites that are free, it may just take a lot longer to get someone to give an unbiased review. The services I chose had good reviews and were priced well within the minimal budget I set for myself.

While I’ve certainly learned a lot, I know there is still more lessons out there to soak in. What I do know for sure is that I love writing, and feel confident enough to give put more books out there.

Well, after some tense nail biting, the reviews are starting to trickle in for The Mixtape to My Life. And they are so heartwarming to see. I’m glad that people are enjoying Justin’s story, and are finding Mixtape an enjoyable escape in these rough times. Here’s just a sample of some of the kind words some reviewers have said:

“The Mixtape to My Life is the consummate summer read even if you’ve not been a young adult for some time now. Seventeen-year-old Justin Ortega has to be one of my all-time favorite coming of age characters.” Readers’ Favorite

“Alongside a compelling cast of multifaceted characters, vividly accurate portrayals of a teen’s struggles with his sexual identity make for a compelling coming-of-age tale. This offbeat romance is sure to delight YA readers.” – The Prairies Book Reviews

“The characters are well-developed and the couplings are sweet and believable.” Kinzie Things

“What a cute and wholesome coming of age story!…. I laughed, I teared up and I overall had an enjoyable reading experience. I can’t wait to see what else Jake Martinez writes.” – Goodreads Review

“This book will always be a true favorite of mine and one I can’t recommend enough!” – Goodreads Review

“Guess what? I needed to read this book right now. I needed something to sweep me away from our crazy world happenings. “Mixtape to my Life” had me invested very early on.” – Netgalley Review

The Mixtape to My Life is now available for pre-order in the following places:

Amazon Apple Books Barnes & Noble Kobo Smashwords

The paperback will be available closer to the release date, which is March 27th. Happy reading everyone!

As we get closer to the release date for The Mixtape to My Life (March 27th), more from the book will be revealed. So what’s first, well the cover of course!

But before we get to that, I just want to say that this cover really captured the look and feel of what I was hoping to achieve with the book. Not only does it brilliantly incorporate a cassette tape, but it gives that hopeful flavor that someone like my main character Justin would feel. He longs to break out from his small town life to the bigger city, and often looks to the sky for escape. The designer did such a wonderful job with this that I don’t think I cannot say enough thank you’s. But anyways, you didn’t come here to listen to me go on and on about how much I love the cover, so here we go…..

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Isn’t it just the best! Now more than ever I can’t wait for you to see the book when it’s released. As I said in the beginning, more details are coming so stay tuned!

For an excerpt, click here.

Okay, so I have a confession to make. While I was writing The Mixtape to My Life, I knew I wanted the song Creep to be the inspiration for one of the chapters. The only problem was that there were two songs called Creep that I really liked: one by Radiohead and one by Stone Temple Pilots. Both have lyrics that resonate, and most importantly, reflect the mood of the chapter. So after going back and forth, I decided on what I considered a great idea: use both.

I mean, why not. They both talk about someone who doesn’t quite feel whole, someone who doesn’t measure up to what others think. That quality alone fits the main character Justin to perfection. Plus, there are times when you are so upset that one song just won’t do. The feelings are just too big. That’s part of the what made mixtapes so important to many a teenager back in the 90s.

Take a look at both versions below, then head on over to the bottom of the page and click on the Spotify icon to hear more songs that inspired The Mixtape to My Life.

Which song do you prefer? Leave your thoughts in the comments below!

One thing that hair metal knows how to do is bust out a ballad. Poison has Every Rose Has It’s Thorn, Warrant has Heaven, and Cinderella has a Don’t Know What You Got (Till It’s Gone). That last one is a personal favorite of mine, which is why it made it into The Mixtape to My Life.

From to the opening piano to the unmistakable sound of lead singer Tom Keifer, this song has it all. But while we may think it’s about lost love, the backround its actually quite different.

So What is the Background?

While recording the album Night Songs, singer Keifer was contemplating the bands success and starting thinking of what would happen if that success were to suddenly fade away. Thus, the song was born. However, even thought it was written during the recording of Night Songs, Don’t Know What You Got wasn’t included, and was instead placed on the follow-up album Long Cold Winter.

It was the band’s most successful single, peaking at number twelve on the Billboard’s Top 100. The video also got heavy rotation when MTV actually played music.

How Does it Fit Into the Book

I’m going to try and describe this without giving too much away. Let’s just say the song comes at a time when all seemed to have been lost. But it isn’t, so it’s more of a reflection. Justin knows he could have lost everything, but now, he has more than he thought. Yes, it’s vague right now, but hopefully you’ll get it it.

Take a look at the video below, then scroll down to the bottom of the page and hit the Spotify button to see and hear more songs that inspired The Mixtape to My Life.

Here’s as exclusive excerpt from The Mixtape to My Life, part of the Deep Hearts YA/Deep Desires Press Cabin Party on Twitter. Hop on over and use #DDPCabinParty to join in all the fun.

Much to my surprise, Dominic is waiting outside for me.

“Wow, front door service. That’s unexpected,” I joke.

“I said I would pick you up.”

“I thought you were kidding.”

“Now you know I wasn’t.”

“You certainly weren’t.”

Dominic laughs. “Are you nervous?”

“No, why?” I am lying. Of course I am nervous. He is here, right in front of me, talking to me. Waiting for me to talk back.

“Just. It’s been a weird few days.”

“Yeah, it has.” We both just stand there. My mind searches for a way to break the silence.

“You know, I never did greet you properly,” I say while reaching out for a handshake.

He takes my arm and holds out my hand. His touch makes me tingle. I feel like giggling, but I hold it together. He then takes his hand and slaps it against mine. Our fingers grip each other,  sending another tingle throughout my body. My first real hand slap with someone other than Benny. I wish it would last longer, but only because it’s with Dominic

“How about we get to it?” Dominic asks.

“Sure.”

He leads me into the garage, then presses the button to close the door midway. “I have to do this. Every time I work out, I see people walk around repeatedly, looking in. It gets kind of weird.”

I can see why people would want to look. Dominic is gorgeous. But it is kind of creepy to think of people in their late 30s and 40s or even older circling to watch a seventeen-year-old work out. I wonder if anyone from our school that lived around here did that too.

Dominic has a bench press with various sizes of weights and a punching bag. It looks like a simple set up, but what amazing results he seems to get from it. He sits down on it and signals me to sit with him.

“You ever lift before?”

“Not really. I did a little when I played football in the eighth grade, but not since.”

“Yeah, I remember that. Why did you quit?” His voice sounds excited, as if we now have some common ground.

“I wasn’t that good, so I hardly got to play, remember. I was there to keep the bench warm.” Football was an experiment that my father forced me to try. One of those things that he swore I would love once I gave it a chance. After my first game, he never went back. It was just my mom with my brother next to her. He never bugged me to do it again.

“Oh, I see. Do you play any other sports?”

“I like tennis.” That is true. I do enjoy it, if only because I’m not too horrible at it.

“Nice. What else do you do for fun?”

I want to tell him everything. I try to tell him about my poems, about how I love to read, and to sit alone outside and look at the sky. But I don’t want him to think that I am a dork, so I try to think of something cool to say.

“You know, just hang out and stuff.”

“Is that all?”

“Pretty much.” I feel stupid and oh so awkward. I don’t blame him one bit if he asks me to leave.

He looks at me with one eyebrow arched. “Why don’t I believe you?” Damn, he looks so freaking hot doing that. He must have known what I am thinking because he keeps it up. Does he suspect? That has to be why I’m here.

“I don’t know what you mean?” I may have been weak, but that didn’t mean I want to give in so quickly. I need to figure out where this is going before we moved further along.

He moves a little closer to me. “You know what I mean.” I don’t. There was something I was hoping would happen, but I wasn’t sure if that what he is aiming for.

“I’m just surprised you didn’t bring it with you.”

Now I’m sure I have no idea what he was talking about. “Okay, I’m lost right now.”

“Your notebook. I always see you with it, writing things down. It’s obvious that it’s important to you. So, what do you do with it?”

I had to admit I am a little disappointed. And a little relieved. Was it possible to feel both of those at once? Either way, I’m not sure if I want to share that. Something in his eyes though, the way he is looking at me, makes me so comfortable. I figure why not.

“Just my thoughts, mostly.”

“Like a journal?”

“No, not exactly. Just random stuff. Some poems even.”

His smile grows wide. “I can see that in you. Someone as smart as you would be creative. Good with words.”

“What makes you think I’m smart?” I am curious. Not that I feel particularly smart, but Dominic wasn’t in any of my classes when we were in the eighth grade, so why would he say that?

“Some guys on the team said that you were good at writing and stuff and that you could probably help me get a better grade in English. And aren’t you in all those smarty classes?”

My mind is swimming. Why in the world would guys on the team talk about me? Hardly any of them spoke to me. The only person I can think of was Kurt Rodriguez, the center of the varsity team. He’s a really sweet guy, the kind that can be called a teddy bear. I’m not surprised to hear that he said nice things. He’s like that.

“Yeah, for everything but math. It was never my best subject.”

“None of them are for me. I barely get by.”

He looks so sad when he says that. I have always seen him with a smile on his face, his lips accented by those adorable dimples. That’s the way I want to see him. Not this way.

“I wish I could be smart like you,” Dominic continues. “That way I could get a scholarship and go to any school I wanted.”

“What about football? You’re pretty good  from what I remember?”

“That’s funny.”

“What is?”

“That you notice me playing. No one ever notices the offensive linemen.”

Damn, caught again. If Dominic hasn’t figured out that I was infatuated with him, he would certainly know now. “I like to watch people. All kinds.”

“And write about them in your notebook?”

“Sometimes.” I don’t know why I confess that. That’s the mark of a stalker. Or at least he might think that.

“Do you write about me?”

“What?”

“Do you write about me? In your notebook?” He inches even closer to me. “It’s okay if you do. I don’t mind. I think it’s kind of nice.”

“Not yet.” I’m lying yet again. I have written about him, or at least I started. Listening to my power ballads, sitting at my desk, trying to figure out what exactly was going on with me. Why I felt the way that I felt, and what would happen if he thought that way too?

“So, I have a chance then.” He turns away quickly when he said that. As if he made a mistake. “Sorry, that was so weird.”

I want to put my hand on his shoulder. But I don’t know if he would like that. The last thing I want was to for him to throw me out, or worse, beat me up. We are both pudgy, but he is pudgy muscle, and I am just pudge. Plus I’ve seen him in action and I know it would hurt. Like a lot.

“No, it wasn’t. I know what you meant.”

He looks back at me and smiles, cute dimples and all. “We should get started before it gets too late. I’m sure you need to be home at a good time.”

“Yeah. My mom is overprotective.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah, it does.”

He walks over to a metal cabinet and opens one of the drawers. He pulls out some tapes. “What kind of music are you into?” He asks while walking over to the tape deck on the table next to the cabinet. I look down at the floor.

“You don’t remember?” I ask. I was a little hurt that he forgot our conversation from earlier.

“Hold on one second.” He fumbles with the tapes that are in his hands and slides one in. He presses the button, and after a few seconds, I hear the familiar riff of Cinderella’s Gypsy Road coming out through the speakers.

“I love this song. I love this band,” I say, closing my eyes to soak it all in.

“I did remember. I like them too, and not a lot of people seem into them on the team. They usually want to hear All-4-One, Selena, or Mariah Carey.”

“People work out to Mariah Carey and Selena?” The thought of those supposed macho guys jamming out to Mariah Carey makes me laugh.

“Don’t laugh. It’s more common than you think.”

After Dominic finishes, he must have pictured what I just did, cause he busts out with the cutest of giggles.It was nice to laugh with someone and  share some of the things that I like. I mean, my brother likes the same music and we both love video games, but we don’t hang out as much ever since Kenny started coming around. There’s Benny too, but Benny is more into modern rock, not “pussy rock” as he calls it. I hate when he does that — almost as much as I hate when he burps in my face. Huh, I have a friend named Benny and my brother had a friend named Kenny. Maybe we are too much alike.

“You okay?” Dominic asks.

“Yeah,” I say, coming back to the room. “Just spaced out for a second.”

Dominic gives me a look, then smiles.

“Do you do that a lot?”

“Sometimes. I start thinking too hard about stuff. It makes my parents go crazy.”

“You can’t do that while you spot me. You promise you’ll stay focused.”

I’m pretty sure the sight of Dominic working out is enough to keep my attention on him.

“Yeah, I promise.”

“Okay, then get under the bar, and let’s see what you can do.”

I’m a sucker for a sappy slow song. Every time Faithfully by Journey (also a song that inspired The Mixtape to My Life), my heart melts and I get a goofy smile on my face. But no song does that to me better than Juice Newton’s version of Angel of the Morning, which is why it is the focus of today’s Music Monday.

About the Song

There have been many versions of this song. But the one that I refer to in the story also happens to be the most remembered and highest charting version by Juice Newton, making it all the way to number four on the Billboard Music Chart. There are a few interpretations of the song, but the one I think it means revolves around a love affair that might not be accepted by society. But they are still willing to be in it, no matter what people may think.

How it Fits Into the Book

There is a line in the song that refers to touching someone’s cheek then walking away. Justin’s crush does just that. And while it might not be exactly like the song, it still feels close enough to where he can hear it playing in his head. It’s a special moment, one that leaves me with such a warm feeling in my heart. I hope you it does the same for you.

Take a look at the video for Angel of the Morning below, then scroll down even farther to the Spotify icon to hear more of the songs that inspired The Mixtape to My Life.

What songs make your heart melt?

Here are a few reviews that I posted on my new Goodreads account. In later posts I’ll go a little more in depth with each book one by one, but for now enjoy some thoughts on my new favorites.

A Surplus of Light by Chase Connor

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


I bought the audiobook version of this wonderful story by Chase Conner, and I’m so glad I did. The voice was perfect in capturing the emotions of both Ian and Mike. This is a deeply emotional book, one that really struck a chord with me. I highly recommend A Surplus of Light and will definitely read more of Chase Connor’s work.



View all my reviews



Gay Love and Other Fairy Tales by Dylan James

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


This is one of the most recent YA books that I’ve read, and definitely worth checking out if you are looking for something sweet and romantic to melt your heart. You really feel the connection between Benjamin and Jordan, and cheer them on as they discover their way to each other. There’s a sequel out as well, and I can’t wait for what’s in store for Ben and Jordan.



View all my reviews



There Goes Sunday School by Alexander C. Eberhart

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


I first heard about this book on the Big Gay Fiction Podcast, and I knew it was one I had to read. The story revolves around Mike Hernandez, a closeted teen that tries to keep a tight lid on his secret. Art offers him one of his few releases, which he keeps in a tightly guarded sketchbook. One day the sketchbook goes missing, and who finds it adds a huge wrinkle in Mike’s life.

What drew me into There’s Go Sunday School is how religion plays a big role in someone’s decision to stay in the closet. The struggle in this book is so well done and fleshed out by the occasional aside by Mike. The relationships feel realistic, and even when you think you know where the story is going, a curveball comes your way. Definitely worth checking out.



View all my reviews

What are some books that you enjoyed recently?

For this Music Monday, we’ve got a song that helps describe that moment your with someone so intense that you want them to give you the kisses to end all kisses: Kiss Me Deadly by Lita Ford.

A Little Background

Lita Ford was a former member of the groundbreaking The Runaways, the first all-female rock band, before launching her own career in the late 80s. Kiss Me Deadly is one of her best known hits, and is her highest solo charting song (Close My Eyes Forever with Ozzy Osbourne charted higher). Some of you younger folk may know it thanks to the Captain Marvel movie.

How it Fits Into the Story

Justin from The Mixtape to My Life has an active imagination. One thing he likes to fantasize about is falling in love, with one guy in particular. After one meeting, he decides he needs the perfect song to picture their first kiss. Kiss Me Deadly is that song.

Kiss me once.

Kiss me twice.

Come on pretty baby, kiss me deadly.

That kinds of just says it all, doesn’t it.Nothing captures the feeling of wanting to be kissed. But not just kissed. Kissed so bad that you feel it throughout your whole body. He may not get that kiss, but for now he will settle for dreaming about it.

Check out the video below, then head down even further to the Spotify icon at the bottom of the page to see what other songs inspired The Mixtape to My Life.

Do you have a song that reminds you of how much you want to be kissed?