Over the years, I have written blogs on the process of writing. Some posts felt uncertain, others untrue, and now years into this, I now write a new post that feels right for this moment. I have come to respect Creativity. Because that is what writing fiction is for me. I respect it. I understand that we are walking down the same road together. Wherever that road takes both of us, intentional or not, I love and respect every minute of it.
Writing is not a fast thing, there is no magic wand that will make it come at you faster. It’s a process, it takes and gives. Demands of your emotions, hard work, your thoughts, your very self. I’m not the same writer I was when I first started. Those days I wanted it all out fast, wanted it to make an impact, and suffered when it didn’t. Now, I find myself being more deliberate in my writing. I’m not looking for fast ends, but an exploration of the journey. It’s easier to write now because I’m not seeking approval, simply writing what feels right. And for that, I’m much happier with what I do.
Most important, I have learned to respect my creative side, in the same way I value my closest relationships. Without that respect, I don’t think I would like myself very much.
Of course, there are days when I struggle. Yes, I struggle, you struggle, we all struggle. When I do, I seek out thoughts that inspire me. Thoughts like this one:
We feel guilty for all that is authentic in ourselves – our salary, our opinions, our experiences, our hidden desires, the way we speak – we even feel guilty for our parents and our brothers. And what is the result? Paralysis. We grow ashamed of doing anything different from what the others are expecting. We do not expose our ideas, we don’t ask for help.…. And how can that be changed? Have faith. Believe that it is possible, and all the reality around you will begin to change.
Feeling guilty – I loved reading this post because at the time of not writing, or being without that charge or spark, it’s often because I’m dealing with external pressures. Dealing with external pressures/forces means I haven’t given myself a chance to sit and dedicate the time allotted to my work. My desire, my needs. So, I have to take a step back and survey what’s causing that feeling, and is it very important that I stop myself from doing what I really want to do.
If it is, find a solution to make it work around my writing. If it is not important, then how do I stop caring so much, and return to my writing. One thing that’s always true, I have deep faith in my creativity. The muse is never gone, she’s always there, waiting for me to solve my external bullshit, so that I can get back to work.
So, I watch videos like this:
In this short amazing conversation on creativity, this sentence alone stood out so much, that I think it’s my year’s new mantra.
If it’s not making you happy, don’t do it! If it’s not bringing you joy, stop. The best philosophy for everything in life, most importantly, I get pleasure from writing. When something is pulling me away from that happy place, I make a conscious effort to get it out of my life. The same way I will deal with anything negatively impacting my relationships with Hubby or my friends. It’s the only way to grow, and discover where your creativity will take you.
Don’t demand from it more than it promises, instead, enjoy the ride it gives you. This is why I loved listening to the conversation between Elizabeth Gilbert and Marie Forleo. So much of what they say is true, and it felt good to hear it aloud. It brought me to a great head space.
I’m on a journey, that feels like a love affair with my creativity. Ups and downs, astonishing moments, and truly wrenching ones. I’ve come to embrace them all, and look forward to more.
If you haven’t already, download The Assassin and explore a different love affair with Daven and Kian.
This 2019, I’m walking on the same path with my best friend, my partner in crime, my no.1 supporter. My Everything. I #gothitched in 2018 and now I’ve taken on a new last name. L says it’s important to gush and brag about these things, so here I am. I’ve spent a chunk of my life on a lone path. Some days were hard, others too easy. The best part about this new path together is that I’m no longer alone. It feels great to know that there is someone walking along with me. On good days, and on those very hard days. I can’t wait to see what this year brings for both of us.
On Writing:
The Morgan Lore – I’ve caught a werewolf bug these last few months. Rory Morgan has captured my interest and imagination, growing into this entity that I can’t put down. #TheMorganLore is primarily posted on GA Stories. If you love you some werewolves, are into adventure and mystery, then check it out at this link. I promise I’m doing my best to get to the end of this one.
Seiryu spirit –(WIP) My dear Koji and Andre are still ongoing. If you caught a bit of their story on this site, or over at GA, then don’t worry. I’m still working on their story. My writing process is diversifying and I’m finding that I don’t want to post content until I have a large chunk of it available. Seems to be working out for The Morgan Lore. Once I’m confident enough for Seiryu Spirit, more will come up.
A Forgiving Heart -(WIP)Rafa and Hyu are also on the list. Be patient with me with these two. Writing Rafa is always a fight. He’s very stubborn and I’ve found a huge trail of story that’s deviating from the original plan. I need to reconcile it first before I share it.
To Compile – The Crown Prince Yoshi – 2018 was huge as I finished this story, which had lasted for years in the WIP list. I’m particularly proud of CPY because it was the first that didn’t follow the same pattern as all my other work. It’s given me the confidence to explore different formats. Moon promised a cover, hopefully, I’ll get one soon and we can compile it into a book for download soon.
The Assassin – If you haven’t already, this ebook is already available for download. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it.
That’s my start of the year. Let’s go together and see what this year brings us all.
Kian Raja grew up in a cold world where the only rule is to survive and be the strongest. He has learned to live with his choices, and keep it real no matter the situation he meets. Then he meets Daven Noland who makes him wish for a future.
Dr. Daven Noland has lived a life saving souls in the harshest of places. On a quest to prosecute a vicious man who endangers the lives of an entire village, Daven gains the attention of a murderous organization. They send an Assassin after him, and he must now convince this assassin to help him fulfill his quest. Can he manage? Will they get to the end of this journey intact, or will he lose his life trying?
I finally got this compiled and ready for download . If you haven’t read it yet, enjoy it! Share it! Please support it! ^_^
This is a new story in development. I’m excited about it, hope you are too.
Chapter 1 –Milan Takeda Moves to the Town of Portento
Milan Takeda sat in the passenger seat as his brother drove the rental car from the airport to their new home. His family seemed unable to settle in one city. Moving was harder this time. The Takeda family had managed to stay in Turin, Italy for the last three years. Milan had loved every day of those three years. Had loved becoming part of a community and getting friends. The parents managed to lull Milan into thinking he could belong somewhere.
Until one rainy afternoon, two weeks ago, when his father came home with the big family announcement. The Takedas were moving to Portento, a small town in Colorado, USA. Milan reclined his seat and folded his arms over his chest.
Portento, the name sounded Italian. The town’s founding fathers were Italian. Choosing a name like Portento, they must have thought the town represented miracles.
Their father, Kiyo Takeda, worked hard to excite his children into the move. Kiyo was a research scientist working at Biosense, a company that developed drugs for various diseases. Their mother was the Italian in the family. Her name was Ilaria. She was beautiful, full of energy and loved to laugh. She was the reason this move happened without a fight.
“Think of it as an adventure, Milan,” Ilaria told him when he started to protest the move. “Your father is close to unlocking the key behind his research. If he does, then you will be free too, my bambino. Free to enjoy the world, as you want. Meanwhile, your father is all about i miracoli della scienza.”
“The wonders of science,” Milan murmured, tagging his jacket closed. He shivered, drawing his brother’s gaze.
“You’re cold.”
It was a statement. Ayu fiddled with the heat controls, and in seconds, Milan felt warmth start to sip into his body. Ayu pulled over to the curb, slowing down to a stop. Milan started to ask what he was doing, only to have Ayu reach in the backseat for a blanket. He covered Milan with the heavy cashmere tucking the ends around Milan’s shoulders.
“We’ll be home soon. This place is cold in December. I told Papa we should have waited to move in the summer.”
Milan held Ayu’s dark gaze, and forced a smile.
“It’s alright. I’m fine, Ayu.”
“No, you’re not,” Ayu said, pressing his palm on Milan’s forehead. “You’re feverish, and you trying to hide it, doesn’t make it better, Milan.”
Ayu shifted away, pressing a button to unlock the trunk, he opened his door and Milan closed his eyes as a wave of cold swept in. He gritted his teeth, not wanting to shiver, but he couldn’t help it. Ayu got out, closing the door fast, and hurried to the back of the car.
He was back in minutes with a bottle of water, and a brown envelope of medicine. Turning on the light above them, Ayu got two pills from the envelope and helped Milan take them. Once Milan swallowed the antibiotics, Ayu placed the envelope in the console between them, and studied him.
“I know moving is hard and you didn’t want to leave Turin,” Ayu said.
Milan folded his arms under the blanket, his gaze holding Ayu’s dark one.
“I wasn’t protesting for me. I was worried about you.” Milan dropped his gaze to his lap. “I know you didn’t want to leave Christina.”
“Milan.”
“You love her. I saw you two in the alcove before we had to leave. She was crying and so were you, Ayu. I don’t want to be the reason you left the girl you like.”
“You’re important to me, too. You are my little brother, Milan. Moving here alone would be hard for you. I’m taking a gap year, and will head to university as soon as you’re better.”
“What if I don’t get better?” Milan asked, looking up to meet Ayu’s gaze. “Mom and I, we talked to the doctor about my condition…this CVID immunodeficiency thing, I might have to manage it all my life. You can’t stop doing what you want because you worry about me. It’s not fair.”
“Milan.”
“Don’t take the gap year,” Milan insisted. “Go back and enter Turin University with Christina. Do it for me, Ayu.”
Ayu shook his head. “I can’t—”
“Yes you can.”
“But—
“I’ll be upset if you don’t go. You’ll be unhappy, and that will make me unhappy. It will make me sick, and it will be because you didn’t listen to me.”
“Your guilt tripping won’t work.”
Ayu turned off the light overhead, and engaged the car into drive.
“This move is not easy for any of us, Milan. I need to be at home with you. Dad’s always in his lab and Mom will be working now in the town’s hospital. We can’t leave you in the care of the housekeeper and nurses.”
“Why not?”
“You’re sixteen—”
“Turning seventeen in a month.”
“Yeah, well endure my presence by your side until you’re eighteen,” Ayu teased. “I don’t regret leaving Christina, Milan. I love her yes, but she’s not the one.”
Milan frowned.
“As if you know what the one looks like.”
“Do you know what the one looks like?” Ayu asked him, adjusting his seat belt, as he buckled in for their long drive home.
“I’m sure I will know when he comes along,” Milan sighed. “That is if I can live long enough.”
“Milan, don’t say that.”
Milan turned to stare out the window. It was dark outside. Their flight landed at seven in the evening. The navigation system said the drive to Portento would take an hour and a half to two hours. Milan sighed.
“I’m sorry, Ayu.”
“I’ll help you search,” Ayu said, after a while. “When we find him, whoever your one is, they’ll love you, Milan, just as you are.”
Milan closed his eyes and smiled. He didn’t know about the one, but he did know that no one had a brother like Ayu, or a father like Kiyo and a mother like Ilaria. He was content enough with their love. Their unconditional dedication was enough for him, he decided as he drifted off to sleep.
***
Their new home looked buried deep in a forest. Milan had never seen so many trees in his life. The town was at least thirty minutes away. He had hoped they would be closer to it, this way he could walk in some days and explore. Had Kiyo known his thoughts?
Milan held the edges of the blanket over his shoulders, and stared up at the three-story house. It was more modern than their home in Italy. He instantly missed the warmness of Turin, and the ancient walls that had seen millennia of history. This place was too modern, too new, too cold. Light from the tall glass windows on the top floor poured down to the front yard. Milan walked up the steps to the front door, pausing when the door opened and a short dark haired woman came running out.
Milan chuckled when she pulled him into a tight hug, bubbling in Italian.
“Cucciolo, I’ve been so worried about you. I kept wondering why I didn’t just wait before flying here. I should have been the one to come with you. I should have stayed and flown here with you. Are you okay?”
Ilaria stepped back, pressing her warm hands to his forehead. It was impossible to stop this tirade, especially when she referred to him as a little puppy. The only way to end the worry in her tone was to agree to all her suggestions.
“You are too warm for my liking. Come inside, it’s a warm shower, and off to bed with you. Ayu, polpetto, come here, let Mamma hug you.”
Milan laughed at Ayu, when he had to lean down to hug their short mother. Catching Ayu’s gaze, he mimed a meatball, and got a scowl for his efforts. Ilaria’s meatball let go of her and opened the door, stepping into the house.
“Cucciolo, you look pale. Tomorrow, I will stay home with you,” Ilaria said, wrapping an arm around Milan’s shoulders. “I’m worried the traveling will get you sick. It’s almost the holidays. I don’t want you to be sick then.”
Milan wanted to tell her not to worry, but his chest felt congested. He knew a bad cold was coming.
His bedroom was fully furnished, and on the third floor, with the tall windows showing off the trees in the backyard. The bathroom connected his room to Ayu’s bedroom. Their mother had worked hard to make sure they were comfortable.
Milan wanted to explore but he was too tired. Traveling always left him so tired. The cold was unwelcome, and he was insanely uncomfortable. The discomfort eased after a hot shower, and he wore the warm pajamas his mother insisted he wear. The potato soup she brought in with a slice of bread was delicious; it warmed him deep to the bones. Sliding into bed, Milan sat, his back leaning on the headboard watching her arrange the things from his book bag on his reading desk by the windows.
“I’ve been looking at schools,” Ilaria said. “Ayu!”
“Yes, Mamma,” Ayu called back from his bedroom.
“Come in here, polpetto. I have news.”
Milan played with the covers, still watching his mother. Ayu entered the bedroom a minute later, and came to join him on the bed, sitting on top of the covers, right next to Milan.
“Are you serious about not going to university?” Ilaria asked him.
“Yes.”
“I don’t agree with this.” Ilaria arranged a stack of Mario Llosa books on the shelf above Milan’s desk, and then turned to face them. “No son of mine will live without higher education. Yes, Ayu, there is a university close here. I got your records from Turin, and they accepted them. You only need to choose the courses you want, classes start in January.”
“What about Milan?”
“Milan has decision to make too,” Ilaria said. “Two choices, we can get a tutore, continue your studies as before, but you seemed to like school in Turin. I will do what you want.”
“How far is the high school from here?” Ayu asked.
“There is the public school. It’s not far, though we would have to drop Milan off. They offered a school bus, but I don’t think standing outside is good for your health. You need a ride into school, and someone to pick you up. I can drop you off in the morning.”
“Then I will arrange my classes so that I’m able to pick him up,” Ayu said.
“Marie is also with us,” Ilaria said, smiling when both boys grinned. “She agreed to move here, with us.”
“Oh, that’s awesome. At least there is one person we know,” Milan said.
“Cucciolo, you still have not told me if you will go to school.”
“Is it very different from the one in Italy?” Milan shuddered. “I’ve read stories, the bullying and the clicks—”
“You can choose the international school. This way everyone you find there will be different like you. You’ve been to one in Turin.”
“The international school will cost you,” Milan noted. “You have to pay for Ayu’s university now—”
“Your education is important, to your Papa, to me, Milan. You don’t worry about cost. It is our job.”
“Yeah well,” Milan sighed. “I didn’t like the international school and ended up moving to public school in Turin. It was the only way to learn the language, and get to know the community.”
Milan stared at his fingers. Life was about experience. The tutor would mean he would be safe indoors. Not have to face people he didn’t want to. The international school was a strain on his parent’s budget. They had to worry about his health, and Ayu’s university…plus, the students tended to stick to their own little communities.
“I’ll go to the public high school,” Milan said.
“Are you sure?” Ayu asked beside him.
“It will be a new experience,” Milan insisted. “A new adventure.”
“Si, it is,” Ilaria nodded. “Well, that is good news. I will drop by there end of this week. If you’re feeling well, you can visit with me if you want.”
Milan nodded, a wave of excitement and anxiety racing through him.
“Where is Papa?” Milan asked.
“Papa is busy working,” Ilaria said. “His lab is now just beyond the trees. This new investor is very keen on finishing Papa’s research. So, Papa will be home when he decides to take a break.”
Ilaria sighed.
“He is working too much again. I hope he can make it to breakfast tomorrow. It will be nice to have us all at the table.”
Milan yawned, feeling tired. His yawn triggered Ayu and Ilaria into motion. In minutes, he was horizontal on the bed tucked in tight like a hot pocket, and the lights turned down.
Ayu kissed his forehead and left, leaving Ilaria sitting on the side of the bed. She rubbed his chest, and reached out to push his dark curly hair out of his eyes.
“You’re going to be okay,” Ilaria murmured, though her tone sounded as though she was convincing herself. “Papa is close, and at least here we can find the best hospitals to take care of you if things get worse. My cucciolo, mamma loves you very much, you know that, yes?”
Milan nodded.
“I love you too.”
Ilaria leaned down, filling his nostrils with the scent of fresh citrus, his favorite scent. She pressed a soft kiss on his forehead, and then stood.
“Okay, goodnight. Sweet dreams, my love.”
“Goodnight, Mamma.”
Milan drifted to sleep in this new strange place, feeling on the edge of a new dawn.
***
That’s the start. Working on the rest, will let you know where to find this new story. Enjoy, Sui.
The Morgan Lore has been complete for a while and is available as an ebook. Check out the links below:
Rory Morgan, just coming of age at eighteen, eagerly anticipates embracing his inherited birthright. He yearns to immerse himself in the responsibilities that accompany his family’s legacy, unaware that a chance encounter is about to unravel the world he thought he knew.
When Rory crosses paths with Milan Takeda, an extraordinary connection blossoms between them. As their lives intertwine, both young men confront hidden secrets and discover the transformative power of unexpected connections.
May is swinging by to the end and I am delighted to discuss one of Sui’s e-books. The Assassin is now available as an e-book. I’ve had the privilege of reading this story, so here is a list of my favorites about The Assassin.
I’m in love with Kian Raja – He is dangerous, handsome, and makes my heart ache as he does not believe he deserves anything good that happens to him. He loves strawberry milkshake, coffee and a certain man with locks. He is breathtaking.
Daven Noland is a doctor who has gone to the darkest depths in strange corners of the world and come back braver. One of Kian’s friends calls him a man with a bleeding heart. I love how he loves, without any reservations and that’s the best thing you can hope for in life.
The Assassin sweeps you across the globe, city to incredible city. Daven and Kian’s time in Amsterdam remains my most favorite as it is both beautiful and heartbreaking, which is all I look for in a story.
The Action! Kian is badass. If I was in trouble, and needed a rescue, he would be the guy I would seek out. Of course, you have to make him care about you first to get him to move a finger, but once you do, he will take a bullet for you.
Diversity – Sui does an incredible job of mixing cultures in her stories, but with The Assassin, she’s gone ahead and created such a great cast of characters. I love multi-culture stories, and the great melting pot they create. It paints a world that is fundamentally about accepting who people love, and not where people are from, or what they are. The Assassin does that without much thought.
Daven cleaned Kian’s wound, concentrating on removing dirt from the raw skin to prevent infection. He used warm cotton balls, at times forced to scrub at stubborn bits. Kian made no sound through the process: no groan, no wince, and no sense of discomfort. Daven stared at the pile of dirty cotton balls on the napkin on the sink. By now, any patient would have cursed him out, or cried out for him to end the torture.
That level of control should have disturbed him. Instead, it reminded him of Musimbi. The young man he met in Dadaab. Musimbi was fearless, immune to pain, his heart hardened by a lifetime of hardship and political wars. Daven first met Musimbi on a field trip on the outskirts of the camp. The first vehicle in the security convoy went up in a bomb explosion and despite protests from the security officers in his vehicle, Daven jumped out and rushed to help any survivors.
Musimbi appeared out of nowhere, clutching a young woman with blood trailing down her face. ‘Help her’, Musimbi told him, his voice bereft of emotion. Daven remembered wondering who the woman was to Musimbi. He should have seen through Musimbi in that moment. Seen the cruelty behind those eyes, instead, Daven only saw the wounded woman.
Daven sighed and applied ointment on Kian’s bruised skin. Placing clean pads over the wound, he taped them into place with care.
“We’ll need to keep checking on it,” Daven said. “Taking a shower will sting, but you don’t have to worry about that for the next few hours.”
Daven smoothed his palm over Kian’s shoulder.
“Thank you,” Kian said, bending to pick up his t-shirt. He wore it in one swift shrug and remained seated on the toilet seat.
Daven washed his hands and disposed off the dirty cotton balls, wrapping them with napkins and throwing them in the trash. He closed the first aid box, and stared at Kian’s bent head. Kian’s silky straight black hair called to his fingers.
Daven frowned.
“I want to trust you,” Daven stated.
Kian remained silent.
“You confuse me,” Daven continued, leaning on the little sink. “One minute you’re pointing guns at me, pulling the trigger, the next you save me. You get hurt in the name of protecting my profession. I can’t read you, Kian.”
“You’re not meant to. I’m well trained, that’s all you should care about. Keeping you functional is a plus for me. Any minute wasted worrying about your health, be they your hands or other injuries, delays us. It makes handling you difficult.”
“Handling me?” Daven frowned at the sting growing in his heart. “I’m not a sack of potatoes—
“You are a target, one I need to keep moving.”
Kian got up from the toilet seat.
The space between them disappeared, and Daven met startling brown eyes.
“Trust is not easy,” Kian said. “Still, I only tell you the truth. There is nothing to read with me, Daven. It will benefit you to think of me as walking armor to get you to your destination.”
Kian opened the bathroom door.
“Try and sleep,” Kian advised. “Who knows what we’ll meet in Europe.”
Daven stared at the open door. Kian’s little tirade stinging more than he dared confess. Here he was, trying to connect.
Today is Sunday, and as always, most of Sunday mornings, you’ll find me at my desk. So, today, I’m deep in the mind of Koji from Seiryu Spirit, and sudden inspiration strikes in the form of a book cover.
I get excited every time my favorite person designs a cover and it matches the story. So, I have this story we call Hitokiri (The Assassin). I finished it sometime last year, and I’ve just been sitting on it, not really editing it. Though I love those characters dearly. L, who makes most of my covers attacked this morning with the cover for Hitokiri, and now, I feel I need to edit it, turn it into an eBook and that’s just a lot more work, but okay. I’m for it.
Hahaha…
I’ve decided to attack you too with Hitokiri’s cover and hopefully the next little e-book I make. Okay, it’s a definite, I’ve been asked to stop saying hopefully and be definite, so here is the definite next e-book coming your way.
It’s good to celebrate small milestones! This year, I’m determined to give my writing the attention it deserves, no matter what! And so far, I’ve managed to upload three short stories onto smashwords I’ve managed to upload these shorts in an anthology on Amazon. The anthology is called “The Arrival of Spring: An Anthology of Four Heart-Stirring MMRomance Stories“. They are oldies, (meaning, they were written before) but they never had e-books before. I couldn’t seem to find the time before to upload them. Now, I’m glad that this is done.
This last short – Always You, Only You, is a story that came to be because of a close friend. I struggled with the ending, yep, this happens at times. There are those endings that just won’t come easily. However, no matter how much I read through it, these two characters, Miki and Shin, just won’t have it any other way. Oh well, enjoy this little departure from my usual endings.
February comes with new goals. I hope to write a new story for valentine’s day this year. I’m in the mood for romance, and I hope you are too!
On a side note, here is a pride of lions to make you smile. Family runs strong here. Hehehe, went on a safari adventure and ran into these guys! Whoa! Exciting and exhilarating! They truly bring life into perspective.
Celebrate the season of renewal and love with The Arrival of Spring, a captivating anthology that weaves together four unique stories of connection, courage, and new beginnings. Every chapter is a promise of renewal—a reminder that sometimes, the most unexpected connections can transform our lives.
Mid-January! The year is fifteen days old. I hope you have done at least one exciting thing. You just need the one to get started, then the second one comes easier.
From my desk, here is another short story to read called The Unexpected Gift of Love. The are two short stories available on gayauthors.org. The Unexpected Gift of Love came to be because of a prompt response from Gayauthors.org. I post some of my work-in-progress stories on this site and it has become an invaluable writing resource over the years.
Back to the story, Ren Hill faces a personal betrayal that breaks his family in half. He must find a way to move ahead and protect his teenage twins from heartbreak. Ryan, who has always liked Ren, has the hard job of convincing Ren to give him a chance.
The Unexpected Gift of Love was a look at divorce and the impact it can have. I think that commitment is such an important aspect in relationships, it requires effort, and sometimes that effort just fails. What a disappointment that turns into! Do check out this little story.
You’ll find a shorter bonus story called Monday Evenings, Thursday Dinner and Sunday Afternoon. The cutest, funnest story, I love it. It makes me smile, I hope it does you. Do you ever have days when, after you fight with your friend, your boyfriend, your partner…family, you spend your time thinking the worst of the situation? You walk around continuing the fight in your head, it escalates to great levels and when you meet the person you were fighting with later, your anger sort of dissipates. And you wonder, why was I so pissed? Well, this story is about that kind of situation. Reed and Kristos have a fight and….go read it!
Alright, I hope your January is going well, that it’s fantastic, and only good things are coming to you.
Look out for the last of this Shorts by Sui Last week of January.
I hope the year has started with good vibes for you. I’m also sending you good vibes, right now. 2018 is here, 2 years to the Tokyo 2020 Olympics. Strange thing to remember, but I’m actually looking forward to that.
January should be celebrated. There are so many fresh new starts. You can do anything in January. For me, I’m greeting you with a Short Story, neatly compiled into an e-book for your enjoyment. I hope you enjoy it!
The title of this short story is ‘Do You Know?’. This is a story about Saki Masashi, a Tokyo University art student, in his final year. His powerful older brother suddenly pulls him out of Tokyo Uni., and sends him to the U.S. to enroll into Alexander University. Saki has had to deal with his older brother treating him this way all his life. In response to his brother’s cold shoulder attitude, Saki decides to fill his life with warm, memorable moments.
I loved writing this story because it was about seeking out those moments in life that make you happy. Smiles can come from things, (nothing feels right unless I have coffee from my favorite chipped mug) activities, (I garden to find my smiles when they disappear), and people. I’m sure there are those people who fill you up with warmth, just by them calling you or sending you a message to ask about soy sauce. (Hehehe)
Do You Know? is part of an mmromance anthology called ‘The Arrival of Spring’.
I bet you have no idea who we are, but when Sui first started writing….four years ago?…No, I think it has been five years now, since 2012. Hold on while I lose my marbles. Five Years! Stupendous! We are Sui’s peanut gallery, and would push her into writing and posting because she was so shy and unsure of her work. I still remember reading, That Dog, Young Jae, and smiling because I thought she had a lot more to give, and it would be amazing. Well, the We is Scot and Moon. Sui’s original fans.
We lived with her then for over a year or two…after she started writing and publishing it
Some Idiot made a joke the other day. Said our names are short for SMS – Short Messaging Services….I was stunned! Stunned! – Moon
out. Around 2014, we all had a displacement. Our jobs are not easy to deal with, we’re constantly on the move, or setting out on adventures across different parts of this strange planet. We separated, and Sui sort of moved from here to there, and here to there….okay, she moved a lot. Now, we’re having an incredibly time as we’ve all managed to circle back to living in one house together. Yass!
We’re older, stranger…definitely not wiser, just hurt and learned to hide it better, deal better. Sui, my dear friend, has written so much, we’re amazed and stunned and awed, and of course teasing her silly for her dedication. Hence, the Peanut Gallery has decided to join Sui’s blog, and basically, jump and down here and there, spilling on adventures, activities, and insane things Sui is always up to in between all the writing. Hoping our time together takes us longer than two years this time.
Scot: Should we talk about falling in love? All our mothers are worried about us still being single?
Moon: I’m worried about still being single…
Scot: laughing. (Moon input: he laughs like a mad man) I at least have a willing candidate. Though dating is seriously the new-already-married.
Moon: Rubbing your happiness on us, you’re evil you know. Sui’s mother is the most frightening. She thinks Sui is going to petrify from being single.
Scot: (Immitating Sui’s softy voice) Yah! You crazy bastards, I’m a happy single woman, stop backstabbing me behind my back.
Moon: More like a crazed woman who is married to her keyboard and the billions of characters swimming in her brain. We still love her though. And you, who is reading this.
This strange band will keep you posted on the new stories on Sui’s desk, and the fun activities we might get into living in our new spiffy home in Nairobi. An uber green place, a quiet place, but seriously…I miss the beach in Diani, so we might visit there often. And share pictures. Nothing is more healing than the sun rising over the sparkling blue ocean. So,…Okay, we’re done with this introduction. In case you see strange posts on Sui’s blog and wonder who has hacked this space, don’t worry, it’s just one of us (Scot or Moon), or both of us.
Now, after this raging intro – We’re off to celebrate Chuseok! Happy Korean Thanksgiving! Lots of food and tasting Sui’s songpyeon. Will tell you if we got sick eating Sui’s cooking. Its a 50/50 with this one. Meanwhile, we take three days off and pretend we don’t have jobs, and simply laze around. Sui-noona you’re not allowed to edit this part out!
Sui Writes 