Alex Rosa's Blog - Posts Tagged "writing"

Please head over to Book Country (A Penguin Writing Community) for my interview, where I discuss first kisses, writing new adult and romance, what inspires me, and a shout out to some of my best writing friends.

Comments on the interview would be awesome!

http://blog.bookcountry.com/member-sp...

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A warning in advance. While this post most certainly leads up to what I wrote in a paperback of Emotionally Compromised to my ex, this post also holds a story of silly, young love, the tragedy of heartbreak, and the phoenix that emerges from the ashes of the experience.

So, everyone has that one relationship, that one person who captured their heart in such a way that even at that moment you knew you would never love someone like that ever again –but you were ok with it, because at least you got to experience it, and you were grateful and oh-so in love with love; nothing could be better. The other side to this coin is that, also when you realized this person officially became your epic first love, you might have realized that this person now has the ability to destroy you, and probably a lot quicker than the love took to get there, too. Actually, I’d say it took maybe a nanosecond for the destruction to begin at your core, and fracture its way out into your well being, usually resulting in you being a mascara-stained puddle of tears –But, I digress.

I mention this because I just recently gave my first published paperback novel to my ex-boyfriend from four years ago, who surely, on multiple back and forth break-ups have turned me into an erratic, blubbering, young adult in my early 20’s due to his lack-of-life-experience-inherent-douche-iness. We dated off and on for nearly four years since I was eighteen. They were the best of times, and I guess, they were also some of the worst of times. However, nothing will take away the memories of passion, adventure, and overall lustful infatuation with someone who loved hanging out with me as much as I liked to hang out with them, and also enjoyed kissing me senseless, and liked the same music as me –not to mention, probably enjoyed pissing off my father with pointless rebellion as much as I did.

I could go into the details of the relationship, like how adorable he was (one time he brought me home fresh éclairs from a bakery just because), or how in hindsight, he really would have done anything for me (he got me scholarship for a college semester once when I didn’t have the money to pay for it myself), or I could discuss his periodic drug addiction (no, I won’t get into that), or his rampant fidelity issues (yes, he cheated on me a few times, and no I am not at all proud to admit that). I could also discuss the mistakes I made (because it’s important to take responsibility for things. I mean, it takes two to tango, right?), like how I didn’t supporting his musical career as much as I should have. He was a passionate guy, and I should have known better.

I can identify it for what is in hindsight, but now I see that we held each other back. Now that I am a writer, you’ll be happy to know that after not seeing this guy for over four years, I did go out of my way to say, “Hey man, just so you know, I get it now. I get wanting to pursue something that no one thinks is reachable. I get how having big dreams is hard for people to understand, and that the drive necessary requires a bit of support. I’m sorry I wasn’t that person. I’m sorry I was too young to get it at the time –but I do now. I want to write. I want to be a famous author now, and I am sorry I didn’t support your dreams as I should have.” –then I may or may not have added- “This does not excuse your shitty behavior of cheating on me with that girl you worked with, and thinking I never knew.”

Life is a funny thing, ya know? *giggle*

So, to make a long story short, and to spare you of a book-length blog post (too late) of how we loved like punch-drunk kids at a NOFX show: we broke up, and I was devastated. Take whatever clues you can from the above. The strangest thing about my heartbreak was that at the age of twenty-one I had gone from seeing that guy nearly everyday since I was eighteen, to not-at-all within a twenty-four hour period. It was like he died. I had at least some self-control and never called or texted. I cut the guy cold turkey. Four years of my life *poof* vanished into my past, and as days, months, Hell, YEARS went by, sometimes I questioned the existence of our relationship. “Did I make that first-love up in my head? Did I simply imagine strolling Pacific Beach in search of carne asada fries while demanding kisses every city block?” *head-spin* I thought it seemed possible seeing as it is so easy as an author to just make things up for entertainment.

When it ended I couldn’t help but think: Who am I? In my case, that was the big question I had to face when I would wake up not knowing what to do with myself. If I wasn’t waiting for that morning phone call, or evening “I love you…” (Gag me, right?) what was I supposed to do? What did normal people do?

Years went by (four to be exact), and so much happened. I had no choice but to learn the walk of the average single girl, but at least I took charge of myself. I grew up. I became independent. I found out what I liked. I found my best friends. I found out what I wanted out of my existence. And I don’t want to credit my massive break-up to all of these new self-discoveries, but it was a huge part of it. I loved him. I loved that guy more than I thought I ever could. And actually, to this day, I’m pretty sure that guy might get the most amount of my love at a certain time more than anyone ever will. This is just what that lucky first-love is entitled too. (Sorry, future husband).

Am I writer because of him? Eh, no. I don’t think I would go that far. The whole experience merely gave me the opportunity to seek it out as a possibility, and for that I am grateful. He may have broken my heart, but breaking up was the right thing to do, no matter what the circumstance.

When you fall in love so young and then you lose it, a lot happens, and there is so much you have to cope with. I had to learn to be me. When I met him, we molded into two. I don’t want to speak for him at all, so this could have been only on my end, because he up-and-scrammed into the arms of another girl right after leaving our apartment. I was wreck. The love of my life left me for someone else. Boo-Hoo, enter pity-party stage right. Don’t feel bad for me. Only applaud me for surviving. Although agony at the time, I learned so much and I am not sure I would exchange the life lessons for peaceful ignorance, because you know I won’t make these same mistakes again, that’s for sure!

Hey ladies, especially the younger ones, if there is any advice I could give to you whether you haven’t met that first love, or you’re coping with that earth-shattering break-up, or even if you are still waiting for that first loveable jerk … when your heart gets broken ---> it will get better. You will survive, and you will be better for it. I guarantee it.

For me, I stayed single for a long time. I dated, but I never fell into the arms of another boy so easily. I was leery for one thing. I mean, I gave my heart so willingly the first time, I wasn’t going to make that mistake again. A heart is not easily put back together, but with time, mine got stronger and more resilient, and happy, if you can believe it. Single-dom, though with its bouts of loneliness and need for snuggles, was something I embraced and enjoyed. Once I did that, I conquered the world, kind of. I hiked to the depths of the Grand Canyon, took opportunities to board planes to places I’ve never been to, and how could I forget, I embraced my love of words and began putting my thoughts to paper …err, word document. The reason why this is all relevant in this essay (sorry for the length), is because that boy; that love and heartbreak, taught me so much and practically spring boarded me into my want to be an author. Like I mentioned before, it gave me the opportunity to pursue it.

I love, love. I admit it. I am a diehard sucker for it. I am a true believer in hearts and flowers, and maybe that’s because at one point I was lucky enough to actually have that, and am still able to appreciate the experience post break-up. But how could I not credit that crazy (possibly misplaced) love as the experience I use to write my romance novels? It’d be silly not to up to this point. Maybe future loves could be the credit for other novels, but for now, this ones to that terrible, adorable, goofy jerk who broke me, but unknowingly taught me how to put myself back together again.

The love I experienced, and even the overwhelming pain it ended up causing me gave me the ability to write such heartfelt dynamics and woes. It made me more observant and understanding of emotions and how humans are complicated things. The independence I earned through the time after, while using my new life wisdom to move forward, has been the endless supply of fuel to the want to write. In a way, the whole mess of ecstasy and agony has been a perfect cocktail of writing material. And I don’t mean that so literally. I have never once written my relationship(s) into my books, nor created a character similar to my ex or any other boyfriend. I promise you that. This boy has simply provided me for a point of reference of love, lust, frustration, anger, and heartbreak.

So anyways, four years goes by and this guy gets in contact with me through, you guessed it, Facebook. I immediately confronted this with, first, shock, because to be honest I thought I was never going to talk to the guy again. Second came the seething anger. I stared at my computer screen and decided simply not to reply, and I didn’t for days. Then I couldn’t help myself. I’ll skip this part of the story because it’s boring and predictable. We eventually met up a few times. At first it was bizarre and terrifying, and then it became fun and enlightening, and finally it became … easy. Or at least easier. Being around each other started to become fun and friendly. One of the nights I decided to hang out with him he handed me his bands CD (yes, he still plays music), and said “I’m giving you this, but only in exchange for a signed copy of your book.” I giggled, he laughed, and I agreed.

Since you’ve actually spent the time to read all this, thanks for that, and after everything you’ve absorbed, what do you think I might have written inside?

We met up one day at the beach, snagged a bottle of wine and watched the sunset. It sounds romantic, but it really wasn’t, or at least my tom-boyish self cannot identify it for it is, but hey, we were just hanging out and beaches are normal in San Diego.

I held the book in my hands and found it funny that with all the chances to write something lengthy, I decided to spare him. I’m sure he’s grateful too, because if any one might know how long-winded I can be with my words, it would be him.

I decided to write something in the book that would sum up everything I have written into this blog post. I wrote it in two sentences, plus a sentimental pet-name to put a cherry on top:

“The best thing you ever did was break my heart. You will always be important to me, Buhbuhs.”

He was thrilled, and I think for him it was a sentimental trophy. I cannot figure out why. Maybe in a perfect world if the author thing goes my way he can brag to his friends about it and sell the copy on ebay, who knows. Regardless, he requested another paperback so he could keep the signed one in mint condition. We proceeded with laughs and more wine.

Maybe you’re wondering why I spared him of something with a little more brutal wit to put him in his place, or why I didn’t write him a whole page describing what he meant me and how he dumped me. No, no, no –that’s not what this was about any more. Too much time had past. He is a totally different person now, and so am I.

Though, I don’t necessarily excuse his shenanigans in his youth, it wasn’t in my book signing or during our minute hang outs that I wanted to make him constantly responsible for the scars on my heart. Nope. Those have healed. Instead, I just wanted him to know that he made a difference in my life and that it mattered –He mattered, and that’s all. I’m not going to kiss and tell about anything else, because I think I have done that enough in this post, but for now, I just wanted to let it all go.

I think signing the book was closure. I no longer resented my first love, but embraced the experience we gifted each other with, which I am sure helped our other pursuits whether it be another relationship or a passionate career move. You just owe it to yourself to appreciate the life lessons you’ve gone through, and let the grudge go, smile and move on. I’m thankful for him. From beginning to end, like the first book to my life, made a significant difference. Without all of that, where would I be? Maybe it’s annoying to hear, but maybe everything does happen for a reason; the good, the bad, and the ugly. You can either let the heartbreak or failure’s swallow you whole, or grin and bare it, and shoot life a sarcastic smirk before tackling it head on, and never faltering, or at least getting up when you do. Obviously only one of these options ends in awesomeness.

This is of course a personal post, but I think this experience is worth sharing, or at least I hope so.

Share your comments or experiences here. I’d love to hear them.

Hello Lovelies,

I've been getting a lot of questions about the sequel to Emotionally Compromised, which is just fantastic! I am eager that you're eager, and I think it has helped reignite my love of these chatacters. I must admit my focus has been shifted on other novels lately. However, THAT ALL CHANGES STARTING TODAY! I have begun writing to Separation Anxiety (Book #2)!

You just hit that moment where you miss your bad-ass, snarky heroine, ya know?

If you finished Emotionally Compromised, and the teaser chapter to book #2 at the end of your eBook/Paperback has been frustrating you, there is good news on all fronts:
​
[*] Separation Anxiety is currently being written, and my goal is a January 2015 publication.
​
[*]Separation Anxiety is now on Goodreads!
--- [ADD IT ON GOODEADS, CLICK HERE]

[*] You can read the very unedited version of the sequel as it is written on Wattpad.
---- Please remember that until publication the story posted online is subject to changes when it comes to plot, dialogue, ect.
---- [CLICK HERE TO READ IT]
​Because I haven't written to in a (long) while, I have a teaser to show you! YAY!

Thanks for joining me on my blog for all these epic announcements. If you need a refresher on the plot to book #2, check out the synopsis posted on Goodreads.

With all that good news and more, here is the first teaser to Separation Anxiety:

###############

ALEX TURNER

“Secretary?” Jeremy asks pointedly, not looking up from his laptop at the end of the table, commanding the room without eye contact.

I lift my eyes from my corner of the room with Derek and Ryan, watching four goons and Cynthia Freedman both turn to look at Jeremy on the opposite side of an oddly large contemporary conference table, set in a room that could have come straight out of the French Revolution, ornate wall carvings and all.

Watching curiously, I am always somewhat taken a back when I witness Jeremy Hunt’s ruthless side. It always comes in bouts of purpose, and only used when entirely necessary. Though, Jeremy might lose his patience with me, he is always on the opposite side of ruthless, even though his tone might try to imply otherwise. Regardless, I can’t help but like it.

The effortless disregard of what’s to follow after he opens his mouth is my favorite part. This side of Jeremy doesn’t care, and doesn’t accept failure. However, maybe with this experience particularly he has had enough of being told what to do for the past twenty-fours hours. His temper is now a short circuit.

Jeremy lifts his icy stare carelessly from his computer, leveling his eyes with the hard-headed woman and her entourage, completely unfazed by their attempt at intimidation. “This first weekend I will not be working. I’ll be going out for personal reasons into the city.”

Secretary Freedman’s pink, perfect collagen lips bob for a moment in silence as if having a hard time gathering a response.

“T-That’s fine, Mr. Hunt,” she huffs while wiping anxiously at the corners of her mouth before going on. “The only request I have is we continue to have our meeting scheduled for Sunday evening, in prep for the beginning of the conference, of course.”

My nose wrinkles. Her tone is too smooth for my liking, giving me the sinking feeling she may actually enjoy these confrontations with Jeremy, and that’s never a good sign. Damn her thirst for power-trips. Jeremy is too charming for his own good. I don’t know whether to hate her or him at the moment. I'm aware how irrational that sounds.

I pretend not to pay attention as I try to focus on Derek, who is dragging his long, determined finger over the blue prints on his laptop screen.

“Turner,” Derek grumbles quietly, causing me to bring my eyes back to his, but I keep an open ear as he continues to point at all exit points around the perimeter of the building.

“Excellent,” Jeremy replies coolly. “This will also require me to commandeer one person from your security team.”

I don’t budge as I stare at Derek, gritting my teeth as my cheeks burn with embarrassment, and I can’t figure out why.

What am I? A pirate ship, or your girlfriend, Jeremy?

I can practically hear Secretary Freedman batting her eyelashes in cooperation as she replies, “Why that’s fine, Mr. Hunt, and I consider it a highly appropriate request in reference to our situation. I’ll assign you Ryan McKa—“

Jeremy waves her off into instant silence. “No, I am taking Miss Turner, and Miss Turner only. I think we can both agree that she will be enough security.”

This time my eyes jump to Jeremy, who’s mouth is puckered into the most adorable smirk, and although his eyes aren’t on me, I know that wry look is meant for me. I bet you he is only too tempted to slyly add, “I am sure she wouldn’t let anything happen to me …” and he’d be right.

The corners of my lips squirm involuntarily as I wrap my head around what he means.

Among the chaos and the insane, is he hinting at what I think he his? A date night in Paris?

I feel like the bad-ass federal agent in me should be rolling her eyes, and laughing at how ridiculous it all sounds. Yet, my heart flutters with the same giddiness that I can only imagine a girl infatuated with a man in the city of love would have.

I steal another glance at Jeremy’s perfect profile, cursing it, and adoring it. Wasn’t I annoyed at him two seconds ago?

How can I focus on guns and ammo when I have something like that to look forward to?

It isn’t until I hear Derek’s disgruntled sigh that has me realizing I have to find a way to balance this whole business and pleasure thing as I bounce my eyes apologetically to his.

“Sorry,” I whisper. I strum my fingers on the table, frustrated with Derek’s bossy eyes on me. “It’s kinda hard to pay attention,” I whisper again haughtily.

Ryan McKay chimes in this time, which I know will annoy Derek more than me.

“Turner is just excited to be treated like lady, which probably doesn’t happen too often.”

The arrogant sound of his voice flips the switch in my body that causes my right arm to leap out and punch something. My fist makes contact with his arm.

“Ow,” he grumbles through his shit-eating grin, that tells me regardless of earning a bruise in the process, he has still somehow won this petty interaction. Why am I smirking, too?

“Can-it, McKay,” barks Derek.

As if even being caught like three kids in a playground scuffle, the voice of Cynthia Freedman sounds from behind us. “Is there a problem, Captain Matthews?”

Gosh, I’ll never get used to hearing that.

He swivels around to face her, back straight and rigid as he replies, “No, Secretary. No problem.”

The moment she turns around and begins her departure, Derek’s elbow comes in playful contact with my gut before he says, “Would you please stop making us look like the three stooges, Turner?”

I twist my lips, overwhelmed by the insult, and before I can reply with something as equally rude, Jeremy’s hearty laughter echoes into the room, meaning he's been watching the entire scene unfold.

I picture the situation from the outside, and know I can assume the dumb-ass smirk Ryan has behind me, which only puts the cherry on top of this over the top situation.

This is not at all how I imagined this assignment to go, and I have only been in this city a day.

Uncomfortable in my own skin for a moment, I shake out my shoulders wondering if within the limits of Paris there might be a shooting range somewhere to help me regain my sense of balance.

###############

So, what did you think? Have you read what has been posted online, or just your puchased/ARC copy?

Are you excited to see the shenanigans unfold? What will Agent Turner be up against in this book? How will the romance with Jeremy Hunt go? Are you eager for their night out in Paris? Do you think Jeremy will let her bring her gun? ;)

Thanks so much for reading. I would love to hear any and all thoughts when it comes to the coming sequel.

To stay up to date on the progression of the story and read new chapters as they are written, check up on my Wattpad profile, or join my mailing [here], or like me on facebook.

You're all stellar <3

With a giddy smirk, yous truly,
A. Rosa

http://youtu.be/--8QVMTV-NE

MY VERY FIRST VLOGISODE IS HERE!
Broken up into two parts, here is Part 1 where I answer reader questions!

I hope you like it! I'm so nervous, but this was so much fun! Please "like" or leave comments on the video. It would mean so much, and I love hearing your thoughts!

Please Note:
Part 2 was ready for me to show you, but unfortunately my computer crashed while working on it and I lost all my work. I really am devastated because I had some cool announcements in it. I will work on putting it back together ASAP so I can get part 2 to you within the week!

http://youtu.be/--8QVMTV-NE

Anyone remember back in October when I mentioned me and author bestie, Alys Arden ( The Casquette Girls ), were doing something sneaky while I was visiting her in New Orleans? I might have stealthily posted THIS picture back in October:



Well guess what? SURPRISE! We were given the amazing opportunity to team up with my favorite writing site Book Country to film us answering questions in regards to writing, posting our work online, friendship, how writing feedback is an amazing tool to help grow as an author, and how Book Country has lead the way!

Watch the video, and don't forget to leave a comment on you tube!! <3

Read the Book Country Blog Post:
http://blog.bookcountry.com/video-boo...

Click to watch the video:





From what I hear, you might be seeing more video's of us in the future talking about all things writing, publishing, and everything in between. Subscribe to the Book Country channel to get access to all their video goodness.

Thank you Book Country for the amazing opportunity. It was SO much fun!

P.S. how awesome do our books look together? haha