A word from the author: I’ve had a few people read various parts of the book overtime. These are some of the responses it’s gotten. One of the most common instances that I started to notice was that people had their favorite poetic point.
“Ali is like Dali for words…” Oscar Henriquez
“I actually feel like these words were written for me, like I’m actually being spoken too.” Shar Martinez
“This is my life.” Kate Hodal
“Love. Hurts, stings, is a many splendid thing…” Tawny Ellis
“Chemistry never dies.” Caitlin Moreland
“Wow…” Sloan Sellars
“Meaningful…” Melissa Pennel
“Intense, and deeply thought up…” Nim Wanderlust
“#10 is my favorite” Van Kassabian
“I feel like the character is me.” Jade Alexis
“I like this style a lot. It almost sounds like it’s a narration for characters…” Dan Matson
“As always, the writing is beautiful” Jackie kecskes
“Deep and dark, but very good” John Yoo
“I hope to fall in love again.” Stone Prum
“I will come back to this.” Landon Case
“I think this is the best writing I’ve ever read from Ali.” Marija Malinovska
To Love, or Not to Love, That is Art, chronicles painter Kaela Elizabeth Cedar’s inspiration, the love in her life, and how one influences the other. As she debates her engagement to an uninspiring man, she is met with one that inspires her, incredibly. In the following confusion she recalls her father’s last breaths, her mother’s hysterical shrieks, and her grandfather’s comforting advice, while the empty canvas awaits her brush strokes eagerly.
Those words say it all. I will donate 15% of all profit from the sales of this book to the UNICEF education fund, because I think we must be the difference we want to see in the world.
The Official Release date for To Love, or Not to Love, That is Art is
Pre Sale here
Writing a novel is always a challenge. I started writing my first novel when I was fourteen. The half written manuscript was lost on my journey through Indonesia. Not long after I departed on my journey to write my first officially completed novel, ‘To Love, or Not to Love, That is Art.’
My inspiration for this novel was an artist that I had known and had worked with a few times. There was something about her that made me begin this novel. However I had characteristics that didn’t make sense to me. It was as if the character had become real. I eventually stopped writing the novel. Months passed. It wasn’t until I met a girl who was the living breathing Kaela that I knew that I had to get the book out to the masses. It was too much of a coincidence to run into the girl I had been writing about. It was one of those rare magical moments in a writers life. It has been a long and pleasurable journey.
When I began to write the piece I knew well that I wanted to portray the inner conflict of an artist and that meant that the story would have emotional shifts. I felt that a traditional narrative could talk about such an inner conflict but never accurately display it. With the numbered thoughts I developed a system of thoughts and feelings that exuded the emotional shift onto the audience. When Kaela is sad you can feel her sadness, when she’s nostalgic you are right there with her. So as I wrote piece after piece of this narrative I realized that I was building Kaela one brick at a time. Now that I see the wall standing in front of me, I feel proud to have known her.
- He convulsed and popped two more pills in his mouth as he wrote his last testament in which he left his beloved 1964 Mustang, he called it his bat mobile, to his only true love, his daughter.
- You should have lived forever only so you would bore yourself to death in days.
She met her first love in a darkened alley before the incident. He was a businessman, controlled and calm in his approach towards everything except his personal life and mother became a part of that personal life within days. She learned to scream louder in those days.
- Your father lost all his hair when he was in his thirties, but wasn’t he beautiful when he stood on the ledge in triumph. He conquered all his fears and every few seconds he looked back at you with tears in his eyes. He was amazing, and you knew it.
- You saw the bikes ride where your father had taken you as a child and you wished you were the tail of the parade, but your thoughts were interrupted by the thought of running mascara.
- The EMT’s wondered why batman would overdose
- You raced him in the parking lot, round and round and round in your red cape and they didn’t call you red riding hood, they called you Robin. If only you had found him earlier, maybe you wouldn’t have lived in disparity.
- In an instant you went across the ocean, swimming back was a bit harder.
- You didn’t know how your heart beat, even though you had heard it a million miles a second.
- Walk the night alone and when you reach the shore turn around and search for the Atlantic on the other edge, and when you find that maybe the Pacific will call you once more.
She ran to the cliff and cried in pain to the ears that seemed deaf to her. Her words were silent but her tears screamed into the midnight air, regardless there was not a single creek. Even the ocean went silent for those minutes. She was broken. She was defeated and through this she arose a fury that would be her life from the day forward. She ran back home with a single thought in her head.
- You were told to nurture the artist that breathes within you but she was never in there and you had been faking it for too long to stop.
- Be an artist or be a lover. Sometimes it’s the only choice. Father knew that much too well.
- There are millions of fish caught every day, but the desired catch always finds a way to bury its hook deep within the sailor’s heart. He may live his entire life in peace but when the hook is tugged, he feels an unequaled agony.
- Five empty trashcans littered with advertisements, lined the golden sands barely visible under the moon’s glow. About ten feet apart from one another, close enough that people may find them when need be.
- There was a dog on a leash, the man followed behind.
- The wind blew icy cold, until your nerves were frozen. You tried to breathe but the air hurt your lungs, and when you breathed out, you created clouds.
- You thought about her even though you told yourself you wouldn’t.
- Wasn’t that the reason you came for? Didn’t you want to think about her? Then why didn’t you let yourself?
- She walked, ran, jogged, and walked again. Something must have raised her curiosity otherwise she would have run through and through.
- There are circles drawn in sand. Wasn’t it Plato who said that the circle was the closest to perfection? Would it still be if it were drawn in sand?
- She was a comfort to you at times.
- White roses decorated the dissipating waves quite well, but they lost their purpose in doing so.
- Why were you walking so fast? Why didn’t you stop to talk? Your brain was muddled with the thousands of voices that you tried so hard to shut out. They wouldn’t stop talking, you asked them to but they had a lot to say.
- She sat on the ledge deep in meditation and you couldn’t help but watch her from far away. You sat behind her, and peered into her soul. Perhaps she would give you a reason to keep coming back, but she didn’t see you and the night was quiet.
- There use to be two out of three chances that you’d find your answer walking the first mile.
- You asked her the question; she didn’t speak.
- The sand gave way under the weight of your foot.
The temperature fell rapidly as the flakes of snow colored the ground blank. The wind picked up, and the earth started to shiver. The wind rocked the dead leaves into the gutters that received them ungraciously. There they sat graced by the flakes that slowly but surely took over, until the leaves choked under pressure, not realizing that they had claimed their own demise. Suffocating against the on pour, now they lay still in their icy graves.
- There were screams echoing the concrete corridors that night, they made it into the open air but the waves overpowered them. They turned into silent hushes that the seagulls mistook for human voices.
- A ledge was built to keep the water at bay. It was high and mighty, but it would have taken a days work to bring it down and the sea does not wait that long.
- The lifeguard was nowhere in sight, who was going to save us?