Late Night/Early Morning Breakfast Burritos

Got hungry, so I decided to make my ladyfriend and myself some breakfast burritos.

Had everything but some cheese. Chili powder on the hash browns, hot sauce on the scrambled eggs and New Mexican green chile.


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Book Pick: “Cloud Atlas” by David Mitchell


This month, I’ve been reading Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell. It’s really a fantastic book. Mitchell is a master at giving his characters distinct voices. If you don’t know, the book consists of 6 nested stories. Each story ends halfway through, and the next one, set in a later date, starts. Each story revolves around a singular character and is conveyed as a different form of storytelling, by one way or another.
Halfway through the book itself, the sixth story, set in a post-apocalyptic future, is the only story told all the way through. Then each story is finished  working backwards.

That might seem like a disjointed way of writing a book, keep this in mind: according to the author, one character in each story is the same person reincarnated. When you think about that and look at the piece as a whole, you realize it becomes about the human condition: our struggles and  triumphs and flaws and defining qualities. You’ll find something to connect to in at least one of the characters, if not a few.

Yes, I started reading it because of the much anticipated movie coming out at the end of the month, but I was quickly taken in. When the center story ends, the book’s inertia is at its peak and the whole thing moves like a falling rollercoaster as each story is resolved.

Though it may seem daunting, having it broken up into six stories makes the book easier to read than expected. I highly recommend it and before the movie, if you can.

By the way, the movie does not share the books format. Instead, it’s told by jumping around to and from similar scenes from each story line. Honestly, knowing that kind of turns me off. Though, I know I’ll still go see it.

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My New Writing Headquarters

My new Writing specific site is up! Check it out here:

Until I get my stuff more organized, this is where my writing will live. All the writing I’ve posted here or on will be moved there. The works that are already here will stay here, but I will post no new pieces on this blog.

I will, however, cross-post my NanoWrimo progress on both here and my writing blog, just to keep up my followers.

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Watch me Write (and I’m moving my Writing to a separate Blog)

In light of NanoWrimo, I need some practice. So for the next few weeks, I will be live typing my current story in Google Drive.
Also, at the end of the year, I will be moving my writing content to its own separate blog. I have yet to find a good CMS, when I do, I will direct my domain to it.

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Email Newsletters: Convenient or Antiquated?

I have a question: do email newsletters work? To ask another to the same point: does anyone like them?
Most of my favorite blogs offer them. They spin them as convenient things. Oddly enough, I find that antithetical especially to the ones that go on about clearing in box clutter.
Frankly, the less email I get, the better. I use this awesome service called Unroll.Me which has kept my “bulk” label empty for months.
Most of the blogs I care about, I follow in Google Reader (via Feedly) and Twitter (via Flipboard). Both are forms of RSS and I read, at least skim, what really interests me within the respective app. If I really like something, I pocket it, or save it to Evernote.
My inbox is for work communication, personal and family updates, and notification from my online courses. Not news.
What I want to know is if there are people who do read news via email.

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“One of Those Days”

Off the cuff, free-writing, (one-sided) dialogue practice. The opening lines came from an interesting discussion I was having with a stranger. Don’t ask. The person talking is inspired by a friend who has her clueless moments.

Tell me what you think.


It is one of those days, isn’t it?
One where you just can’t help yourself.
You know you shouldn’t, but there’s no one around to stop you.
In 15 minutes, all the wine and peanut butter are gone.
You’re horny as all get out.
There’s something in the wind, there is.
Something in the wind.

Well I can’t be the only one.
The only one who thinks adorable little otters would make great pets.
Who wonders how they would react to peanut butter.
Wine? No thank you.
The house isn’t so much as lonely as it is, vast.
Vast and full of possibilities.
Possibilities and pillows.
Not as mutually exclusive as you’d think.

Well don’t look so…
I can’t say at the moment.
It may be because my toes feel like they’ve been dipped in ice cold water.
Oh, you feel it too?
Must be the wine.
Or the otter.

Did you feel that?
Well I did. In my bones, I felt it.
One of those days, a Thursday.
This must be Thursday
I never could get the hang of Thursdays.
Now where have I heard that before?
Where did you go?
Was it something I said?

Like/Comment/Share. I love feedback. Bonus points if you can spot the quote and name the source.

Creative Commons License
“One of Those Days″ by Ravel Lopez are licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License.

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“All I Have” – Short Story

Less of a story, really, more of an idea. I was inspired by a very beautiful song.

This was written a few years ago, when I first started playing with the idea of writing. I plan on revisiting this and expanding it into something. I’m not sure what, yet.


All I Have

The water drops on the rooftops with a constant, light beating. Yet, the setting sun manages to break through the gray blanket of clouds giving everything an amber glow.

But the rain still persists, drowning and breaking off the delicate blossoms below my window. My gardenias remain untouched under the awning. Smiling to myself, From just inside my apartment, I admire their demure beauty. Perfect.

A whiff of smoke catches my attention. I turn away from the balcony and in the darkness, I see the small orange glow of the cigarette hanging out of an invisible mouth. As my eyes adjust, I make out his tall figure, standing in the door way. Soft, but piercing eyes materialize out of the black and turn me to stone. Our gaze remains locked as he flicks the cigarette and brushes my hair back, my behind my ear. His hand, now behind my (at this point I feel that I should soften my narration voice a little, not sure how though) head, gently guides my lips to his. His kiss, ooh his sweet, long kiss. It is all so intoxicating: the smell of his skin, the smoke, the rain and flowers, combined with his sweet lips. He pulls our bodies closer as the rain falls outside. The orange sun sets long before our embrace ends. Perfect.

I wake up, alone.

A cold, steely darkness surrounds me. I see the moon outside, peeking through clouds. She is alone too, ashamed to show her beautiful face. Her blue light illuminates nothing. I walk to the balcony where empty pots lay, broken.

“Why are you so lonely, so sad?”

No answer, but I know. I know. Her partner is gone. It has been cloudy and dreary for over a year. A year since the war started. A year without happiness, joy, dancing. A year without gardenias. A year without love.

A tear lands on shards of clay.

Please like/comment/share. The more people who read and like my stuff, the better.

Creative Commons License
“All I Have″ by Ravel Lopez is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License.

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