Where to start? Was it Recovery, or was it All Eyez On Me? May be The Infamous, or the Life after Death.
A scrawny little kid, with an attitude like that of el diablo himself, which made the streets give him the name ‘Hell King’, is what I am back in the day. But, a scientific el diablo. Science was like all day, every day stuff. Then I was introduced to rap music by my dumb brother. He made me listen to ‘Smack That’ by Akon. While I was listening to that Em part, my brother said, “He is a white dude”. I was like “En serio?”. That is when I started to explore rap music, and that is what is which influenced me to put that pen to the paper. Words, just words. As Em said, words are mother*uckers, and they can be great. While listening to Em I felt his situation as he did not wish to grow up in that Salem’s-lot. While listening to Pac, I understood that he had a reason to wish for a change, and Biggie, he expressed his every day struggle. Cube was indeed a ni**a with attitude, while Eazy was ruthless, and Ren was a villain. Marshall Mathers LP, Straight Outta Compton, Death Certificate, Illmatic, Doggy Style, Ready to Die, Chronic, Get Rich or Die Tryin’, Reasonable Doubt, Blue Print, Still Matic, Paid in Full, Rising Tied, Design in Malice, some works of Tech N9ne, Yelawolf, Slaughter House, I can go on and on. Everything affiliated to real hip hop has been an influence. And, yes indeed I wanted to be a rapper, and have also written an album of my own, which is now scrapped. But, the rap to writer transition took place as wanted to write a song, and I could not perfect it. Even to this day, I did not. So, I thought ‘how about I write a book about it’, and started writing. That, is my first book, Els Orfés pt.1.
I was never a damn reader, and I actually hated readers. The only books I ever read, maybe are all science affiliated like books on psychology, ichthyology, and relativistic effects in time dependant quantum fluctuations and stuff. And, non-scientific books which I have read are only two: Mein Kampf by Adolf Hitler, and Das Kapital by Karl Marx. With the only knowledge to write raps, and maintain a kind of word play, I wrote my first book. I finished it, and roamed on various streets and surfed various websites to cop a deal. I got one. Now, for a person of my attitude, I only get content when I sabotage my rivals. I get disappointed even if I win, but not sabotage. And to me, it occurred to deal with an ‘average’ performance. My first book is an ‘average talk’ receiver. That vexation, that frustration has pent up, and I wrote this second book, Vida. While writing my first book, I kinda tried to put stuff which the readers would expect and want, and such. But the second book was written with only one agenda: I don’t give a f*ck. I write like this. To read or not to read is your sh*t. Not mine.
Surprisingly, people are liking it. After Vida was done, I did not deal with any sort of rejections. Because it is crafted that perfectly and people would love perfection. No misplaced dialogue, or no stupid stuff in the book. Every publisher loved it. And most of them offered me a deal. But it was on me to contemplate and choose the best out of all, and I decided to work with the Olympians.
The whole publishing is a gamble with time. You gotta stay patient and I am healthy person. I hope you got that word play. My patience is thinner than an anorexic teenager. I was tested and I detested it. But, in the end it is all good. Because, once you understand how the things work and the schedules and stuff like that, it is all fine. You will be patient. Things finna happen, but they happen in accordance with the schedules and stuff of these firms. And if I learned anything from the whole publishing process, it is patience. El diablo has become San’ Pacienzito.
Then, after all those lengthy amendments, cover designing, and blah blah, the book is out. And a few weeks later, I received this box with my books in it. The first thought is “Who should I give these to?” Because, all the people I know are dumb. Nah, I’m just playing. But, most of the people I know are not readers, so……. I had to think. I did not feel any sort of like ‘aw’ or ‘mind-boggling’ or introspective rhetorical questions expressing amusement like ‘Am I an author now?’. Because I invested my time in it, and it is the product of my efforts. So, it is all good. You get what you put time in. Whether it is a book, or money, or knowledge, or a chronic liver disorder.
For any folk out there, who finna write or do anything in your life, check this out. There are two things: To dream and to work for your dream. You did not take birth to be a b*tch all your life and just dream. Cup your balls and start working instead of whining and blaming the society or someone else. Yes, the world will not let you win, and there will be hurdles. But are you not strong enough to tackle them? If not, die. Period. But if you are strong enough, punch the world in its f**king face and win. Whether you dig to be a writer or a musician or a scientist or whatever. Give your 300%. 100% will not work. To quit is rather easy, and to be a quitter is rather blissful. This is not 14th century to win easily. This is 21st century and you have to deal with all the a**holes who sh**. So, if you are up for the challenge, put a stamp on this planet before you leave. Or else, live like a dead robotic zombified monotonic sh*t-head you always have been since your birth and stop whining and blaming.
You got 24 hours in a day, just like every other species in this planet. You gotta use them wisely to be the best. Vale? Cazzo mafankulos!
