I met guest author Jason O. Silva at this year's Duarte Festival of Authors. What stopped me at his booth were his beautiful book covers. What kept me there was his warmth.
The first book in his "Edgar Trunk" series for children was a Gold winner at the 2011 Moonbeam Children's Book Awards.
The second book is a brand new release. Please welcome guest author, Jason O. Silva.
For me, writing a guest blog entry is a little like dining at La Luna Negra. The decor, the atmosphere, the culture (just like this blog) are so colorful. The Flamenco show starts; you're enjoying it as a spectator. How do those dancers achieve such intensity? The experience is full. You are transported. The evening is a splendid, joyous memory in the making.
But then there is the moment. It happens every single time at La Luna Negra on a weekend night. The dancers disperse from the stage and enter the restaurant seeking an unsuspecting partner to fumble clumsily through a few moves with them as patrons jeer and applaud.
There are those who live for the spontaneous spotlight. They are a flame seeking a wick, ready to burn even brighter. I on the other hand abhor public showiness. I wear a t-shirt in the pool. I sit in corners. I keep my cell phone volume down on the lowest setting. So when a beautiful Flamenco dancer swishes through the tables to draw one of us out of the crowd, I pray on my life that she will not pick me. Because if she does, I will sit there like a slug and grunt, "No." I will refuse, even as she tugs my arm. I will act like that arm is asleep, like the limb isn't even mine. Pull all you want.
Afterward, the latent misgiving surfaces. I'm left wondering if I just spoiled the party. Did I knowingly walk into a charming and wonderful scene and then wreck it like an unruly child in a porcelain shop? These are the situations I avoid. Really, my hesitation stems from the fear that my performance cannot do the honor justice. I prefer to be a fan, to watch and enjoy, like with the Pasadena Daily Photo, to peruse, participate in a passive and carefree way, with none of the pressure of having to live up to the expectation of craft, sensibility, and wit contained within the wonderful posts.
But what are we without our foibles? Without our quirks and insecurities? These become for us the fodder for great characters, great moments, and that ring of authenticity that makes stories REAL. The truth is, if you never get out of the chair, you're never going to dance (in life, in writing, at La Luna Negra). There comes a time when we must face our fears, so here you go. Look out, Flamenco Lady!