My fellow author, Langston Hughes, once asked:
“What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore—
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over—
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?”
This is the state that I find myself in as the site undergoes its latest incarnation. I’d like to thank my webmaster Raymon for crafting this latest identity in face of my having difficulty in providing it substance. Stephanie Guerilus Online has just been here for the past few months while the woman who bears the name turns blank pages, trying to fill it all.
I’m a writer whose pen could be mightier than the sword. But in the past few months, I haven’t been called to action. I’ve been on the sidelines. I’ve started. I’ve stopped. I haven’t been able to finish.
I want to do more than just find my place in history. I want to craft it. That’s my dream. It feels like I’ve been asleep for so long, but I’m awake now. I feel as though I’ve awaken from a long slumber, finding my way out of the fog and attempting to actualize my dream’s potential.
My dream is to be an accomplished, recognized and respected New York Times Best Selling Author with humanitarian aspirations. I want to build a literary empire, found habitat for sexually abused children and become an Ambassador to Haiti. Not to mention become a multi billionaires all at the same time. Some day that’s the impossible dream. Statistically, my chances of success are even lower, but I’m more than just a standard number. I’ve got the iron will to circumvent the odds. I’ve got discipline, which is the difference between a dream’s deferment and demise.
Progress on my latest novels stalled because real life kicked my ass. I don’t have any powerful prose or meaningful words than to put it s bluntly. I am in the infancy of my professional career as a journalist. I’m getting my feet wet, blending of writing with a more streamlined approach that does not takes flights of fantasy or hyperbole. I’m slowly but surely carving a niche for myself, but my first love is raw, free style and uninhibited writing.
You’ll read my bio and discover that I’ve been writing all my life. It’s like Forest Gump. One day, he just started running and couldn’t stop. One day, I started writing and couldn’t stop. It’s almost like an addiction. Writing is my one of my great loves. Unfortunately, my passion was tempered in the past few months. It wasn’t so easy to craft an escape route from life’s realities into a world of fiction; a world I had control.
I made my first bid to critical acclaim with the publication of my debut novel, By Any Means Necessary. To make a long story short, I learned a hard lesson. Everyone and My Mommy can love the book, but the publishing world is just like any other business. It’s about connections. All I came to the dance with was talent and it was back at square one.
It’s back to the blood, sweat, tears, sacrifice and frustration. A lot of well meaning people have told me to stop dreaming and just wake up. Rejection letter after rejection letter seems to confirm that pontification but I just might be a glutton for punishment. Or I know something that all the don’t.
My tale is as old as time. How interesting would the story be if the heroine got her happily ever after in the first chapter? My story has only just begun.
A lot has been written. It will come to pass. Until then, feel free to browse through my various samples of text.
Albeit late, welcome to the revamp of Stephanie Guerilus Online. Allow yourself to dream a little dream with me.
— Stephanie Guerilus