I
hope you enjoy his guest post. And don’t forget to comment for a chance to win
the giveaway. Justin will be giving away a $50 Amazon GC to one randomly drawn
commenter on the tour. Follow the tour and comment;
the more you comment, the better your chances of winning.
Welcome to Novel Moments, Justin. We look forward to hearing what
you have to say concerning the topic of music, and writing comfort. How does your writing space look like?
I
have no “set” space for writing.
There’s
no special desk, no special lamp, I’m not surrounded by my favorite books, by
some of my meager life accomplishments, pictures of loved ones, there isn’t
inspiring art on the walls, nor is there a side table for empty glasses and
bowls. I’ve never established such a place since, as a writer, I’m a nomad.
Sometimes I write sitting up in my bed, on the couch, at the dinner table, I’ve
written on a bus, in an airplane, at a red light in a car (though, I discourage
you from doing so), at restaurants, during work telephone conferences, and just
about any life situation where my immediate attention wasn’t an expectation. It
doesn’t matter if I’m by myself, or surrounded by one thousand people, it
doesn’t matter if the place is quiet, or if it is loud. And maybe the only
thing that might slow me down is if a running television, but usually after a
few minutes, even that doesn’t bother me.
Not to imply
that this serene description describes the rest of my life.
None
of these things are required for me to write because, for me, one thing turns
every space into a writing space.
Music.
I
write with ear buds in my ears. What type of music I listen to varies.
Sometimes I can deal with people singing, they’re words don’t mess with my
words and I don’t get confused. In those times, I like rock n’ roll, or soul,
sometimes R&B, and strangely, very light-fluffy pop-music. When I’m in a
place where I need my thoughts to be exclusive, I start pulling out classical
music, or movie scores, instrumentals from some of my favorite bands, things of
that nature. I’ve a habit of listening to the same things endlessly. I’ve
written listening to one playing on loop five or six hundred times. There’re some
songs I’ve listened to so frequently, I can mentally locate, then isolate, the
tracks that were mixed together for the final product. It takes a long time for
me to get restless with songs, then I put them away for a while, and after that
while, they come back as strong as they ever were.
The
key is that I don’t listen to the music. My writing is almost an out of body
experience. You know, in the movies, when the character’s face looks fine but
their eyes seem distant and empty? That’s what I look like when I’m writing. I
listen to the same songs again and again because, somewhere in the third of
fourth run through, I drop into a strange trance where I’m only half-conscious.
It’s not that I don’t see the people around me, that they’re conversations cannot
be heard faintly when the song hits a quieter phase, I’ve just dislocated
myself from them. I’m in the space between that abstract world where my art
lives, and the physical world where I share it with those around me, I become
some type of bridge for the transference. This trance shuts down my brain, as
well. I don’t think about what other things I have to do, trouble that needs to
be resolved, it’s hard to keep track of time (though, I’ve learned it usually
passes slower than I feel it is), and while English is what comes out of my
fingers, I kind of stop thinking in it. I say “kind of” because it’s not 100%
true, I do sometimes think in English, then type it exactly like I thought it.
There’re other times, though, when it’s almost like being in a coma. Your heart
beats so faintly you hovering on arrest, your breaths are shallow, you’re as
relaxed as you’d be when you’re asleep, and you’re not thinking in English,
you’re not thinking at all, the words are simply finding their way onto the
page, and they’re doing so in spite of yourself, not because of it.
“I’m a good
writer. I’m a good writer. I’m a good writer.”
(SPOILER: It
never works, lol).
In
my life thus far, I’ve been unable to duplicate this experience without music.
It is the single biggest influencer in my writing life, and its absence in my
creative process would be devastating.
BOOK BLURB
Sykosa
By
Justin Ordoñez
Sykosa
(that's "sy"-as-in-"my" ko-sa) is a sixteen-year-old girl
trying to reclaim her identity after an act of violence shatters her life and
the life of her friends. This process is complicated by her best friend, Niko,
a hyper-ambitious, type-A personality who has started to war with other girls
for social supremacy of their school, a prestigious preparatory academy in the
Pacific Northwest of the United States. To compensate, Sykosa has decided to
fall in love with her new boyfriend, Tom, who was involved in the act of
violence. Propelled by survivor guilt, an anxiety disorder, and her hunger for
Tom and his charms, Sykosa attends a weekend-long, unchaperoned party at Niko's
posh vacation cottage, where she will finally confront Niko on their
friendship, her indecision about her friends and their involvement in the act
of violence, and she will make the biggest decision of her life—whether or not
she wants to lose her virginity to Tom. YA fiction for the 18+ crowd.
EXCERPT
Outside, the sun shines. Inside, there’s only darkness.
The blackness is hard to describe, as it’s more than symptoms. It’s a nothing
that becomes everything there is. And what one sees is only a fraction of the
trauma inflicted. It can get so bad she literally goes black, and she wakes up
seconds, minutes, hours—who knows—later, to the silence, and the shame, and
the… The blackness is really a panic-attack. She thinks that’s its medical
definition. She’s never consulted anyone about it, but she heard a daytime TV
personality talking about it once and all the hairs stood on up on her neck and
she thought, That’s me. The TV
personality said trauma plays a significant role. That made her feel broken, so
she decided not to listen anymore and to pretend like nothing was wrong. That’s
why no one knows about the blackness—her pretending won’t let them.
REVIEW SOUND
BYTES
"… gritty, intense
and definitely not a book I'll forget anytime soon! It was so differently written.
I wouldn't have expected to fall in love with the writing style but I did. It
practically made me get under Sykosa's skin despite getting a dose of the
perspectives of the other characters and there were parts that were so lyrical."
~ On Books
"Justin
Ordonez’s debut novel, Sykosa Part 1: Junior Year, disproves the old
saw that youth is wasted on the young. He adroitly delves into the minds and
social lives of his titular sixteen-year-old protagonist and her peers, showing
that young people wrestle with tough decisions just like adults do."
~Clarion ForeWord Reviews
"Sykosa makes for some
compelling reading. Older teens and adults alike will enjoy Ordoñez's tale for
its humor, realism and relatable protagonist."
~ Kirkus Indie Review
AUTHOR
INFORMATION
Justin
Ordoñez was born in Spain, raised in the mid-west, and currently lives in
Seattle. He's nearly thirty years old, almost graduated from the University of
Washington, and prefers to wait until TV shows come out on DVD so he can watch
them in one-shot while playing iPad games. For fifteen years, he has written as
a freelance writer, occasionally doing pieces as interesting as an editorial,
but frequently helping to craft professional documents or assisting in the
writing of recommendation letters for people who have great praise for friends
or colleagues and struggle to phrase it. Sykosa is his debut novel.You can find out more about Justin at his blog, http://sykosa.wordpress.com. You can also find Sykosa, the novel on Amazon. http://www.amazon.com/dp/B007N709IG/
*Please
don't forget to follow the tour and comment for a chance to win the $50. The tour dates can be found here: http://goddessfishpromotions.blogspot.com/2012/05/vbt-sykosa-by-justin-ordonez.html.
