BIO:
Born in the intercity of Chicago, Michael found himself pulled in two different directions after completing high school. His dreams of becoming a basketball player was overwhelmed by the peer presure from the neighborhoods, young men who were famous for being street lords....Becoming a young parent, Michael chose the thug lifestyle, fast money, and cars to provide for his family. After a drastic incident that led Michael to a five year prison sentence, he recollected on past memories and began writing his debut novel "The Holy City".
1.) First things first, tell us a little about yourself and how you got your start in writing?
I’m a native of Chicago Illinois . I grew up with dreams and aspirations of being a basketball player but that was short lived due to certain circumstances. I am a father, an aspiring screenwriter, entrepreneur and a published author of an amazing three part series "The Holy City "under Delphine Publication.The idea of writing came to me during darkest time of my life.Everyday while being incarcerated my creative imagination would play on my mind so much to the point I had to start jotting down ideas.The ideas soon blossomed into a developing novel.
2.) According to Redeyechicago.com homicides were up 38 percent from a year ago (2012) could you tell us about life growing up in, “The Windy City” somewhere I’ve always dreamed of visiting myself.
Overall Chicago is a GREAT city to visit.We have one of the best sky lines that I have ever seen!I been in Chicago all my life and still haven’t gotten used to the blistering cold winters, but you have to love the snow around the Christmas season! (LOL)On the other hand,growing up in the inner city does have its challenges.By the city being plagued with street organizations since the beginning of time, it was tough to live peacefully in certain neighborhoods.Witnessing drug dealing, violence, and other illegal activities on a everyday basis, in different communities, kind of forced me to grow up and become more streetwise before my time.
3.) How did you come up with the concept of your enticing and action filled novel, “The Holy City?”
I always had a movie playing inside my head from past memories and significant events that happened in the community that surrounded me.When the time came for me to sit down and ponder on certain thoughts, the writing came to me naturally.I guess it’s safe to say God revealed a hidden talent in me that I never once thought to explore.
4.) What do you want reader’s to gain from reading your novel?
I basically depict the mindsets of most troubled youths that don't see a better future outsideof their high crime enviroments. As you mentioned, In Chicago alone we had over five hundred murders last year. The senseless violence has everyone in the city putting forth an effort in finding a resolution to the ongoing problem. In my novel, I paint a vivid picture on where the root of the problem usually stem's from.
5.) I heard that, “The Holy City” is actually a series. Could you tell us readers what to expect in the next addition to the book?
Expect the unexpected for sure!I definitely answer all the questions from my readers in the second installment…I know I kept them on edge with numerous situations in the first one!
6.) When you were contacted back by your publisher and they said they wanted you, how did you feel and why?
Initially it felt like an accomplishment.Before being contacted I was reaching out to several agents and other publishers only to get kindly rejected every single time! After the short lived excitement, it was time to handle the business aspect of being an author under a traditional publication opposed to being a self-published author.
7.) Since you are from a city that has a very high crime rate, what do you think about the laws that Obama is trying to get passed on gun control?
I’m happy that the crime in my city is gaining national attention.I do believe that it needs to be some type of resolution that will keep illegal guns off the streets.All the guns that are flowing in the streets are being purchased illegally by kids with all the wrong intentions.
8.) When you are not writing, what do you enjoy doing?
Spending quality time with my family, searching around for other lucrative investments, and watching sports.Now that I’ve gotten older I chose to live a more simple lifestyle sort of say! (lol)
9.) What are your plans for the future and how would you like to be portrayed as an author?
I plan to remain loyal to myself, the streets, and my fans through my writings. I hope to leave a sense of hard work, dedication, and an outlet for youths in the inner cities all around the country, letting them know that there is a way out of their troubled environment.
10.) What is an inspiring quote to leave with readers something that describes you.
Allow your spirit to guide you into finding your niche in life and run with it
11.) I always love to eat anyone's food from Chicago because you all can cook. Do you also have that talent where you can cook up a masterpiece in the kitchen? Everyone from Chi-town can cook.(lol)
LOL!!!Good question….YES, I can cook.I make the best homemade Chicago style deep dish pizza from scratch that you will ever taste!I can cook a bunch of other things but after tasting my pizza you will certainly call that my masterpiece! LBVS!!!
12.) Tell the readers how to keep up with you.
Find me on face book: Michael F. Blake
"Like" my face book company page: Michael Blake " The Holy City"
Follow me on twitter @MFBlakeinc
Go to my website http://www.michaelfblake.com/
E-mail me at michealblake75@yahoo.com
Thanks for having me, I really enjoyed the questionnaire!
CHECK OUT AN EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT OF THE HOLY CITY:
Prologue
“Marcus . . . Marcus! You don’t hear Momma back there callin’ you,”
said Chris, his younger brother, as they both sat on the steps of their
front porch enjoying a nice summer morning in June.
“Huuuhhh!”Marcus responded to his mother’s calling as he snapped
out of a trance
“Boa, you didn’t hear me back here callin’ you?” Sylvia yelled as she
stood at the back door in her famous all-black satin nightgown. “Get in
here and take out this garbage. You know it’s too damn hot to be letting
this trash pile up like that!”
“A’ight, here I come!” Marcus replied, still not making a move
toward the door. “Mannnnn, dat nigga gettin’ money,” Marcus said
in a hushed tone while staring at Smitty glide down their street in his
drop-top cocaine-white ‘79 El Dorado Cadillac with maroon leather
interior, bangin’ Al Green’s “Love and Happiness” on his sound system
that was so loud that you could actually hear him coming from three
blocks away.
Honk! Honk! was the sound of Smitty’s horn as he acknowledged the
two brothers by throwing up the deuce.
“Yeah, dat nigga kno’ who I am,” Marcus muttered out with
confidence as he threw up the deuce while staring at Smitty slowly drive
down their block.
“What make you think he kno’ you, you ain’t nobody,” Chris
sarcastically blurted out.
“What! You seened how dat nigga looked ova’ here. He know wassup
wit’ me.”
“The only reason he looked this way ‘cause he know Daddy stay
here,” Chris said as he began to ease off the porch onto the sidewalk.
16 Michael F. Blake
“Remember, dats yo’ punk-ass daddy, not mine,” Marcus replied
offensively.
“Ahhh! You mad‘cause don’t nobody know you, nigga!” Chris
taunted in a teasingly fashion while heading in the direction of one of
his friends’house two doors down.
“A’ight, we gon’ see ‘who know who’ when I start gettin’ ‘dis
money.”
“Don’t worry, dat ain’t gon’ happen no time soon,” said Chris as he
continued to pick at his older brother.
“Marcus!”Sylvia yelled harshly from out the house.
“Okay, here I come!” Marcus quickly responded with a slight attitude
as he reached out for the door while looking back at Chris.
On his dreadful walk into the house, Marcus was mumbling some
pretty unpleasant words under his breath until his mother interrupted
his train of thought.
“How many times do I have to call yo’ name for you to get in here
and do what the hell I told you to do!” Sylvia snapped as she stood in the
kitchen with her hands resting on her hips.
Even though Sylvia only stood about four foot ten, she demanded
her respect from anyone that associated themselves with her, especially
men. Sylvia was determined not to allow her kids to disrespect her, but at
times, she would show a little leniency toward their smart remarks.
“You should’ve asked dat nigga to do it,” Marcus mumbled under his
breath while grabbing the bag out the trash can.
“What’chú say?”Sylvia asked vigorously after seeing movement come
from his lips.
“Nuttin’.”
“I told you‘bout that smart-ass mouth of yours. You gon’ make me
slap the taste out it! Keep on getting smart!” Sylvia threatened while
mean mugging Marcus as he was leaving out the back door with the
trash.
“Man, I can’t stand her ass. Soon’s I get me some bread I’m gettin’
the fuck out her house!” Marcus said in an aggressive whisper while
carrying the trash bag over his shoulder on the way to the alley.
As Marcus continued to walk and talk to himself, he didn’t notice
someone creep up behind him.
“Give dat shit up, nigga . . . ,” was a disguised voice coming directly
from behind Marcus. “You didn’t hear what the fuck I said, give dat shit
up, nigga!”
“Damn, man, I ain’t got shit but some trash, homey,” Marcus nervously
pleaded.
The Holy City 17
"Ahhh! Nigga you was shook like a muthafucka!” Pee Wee said while
tucking his pistol back into his waistline. Pee Wee was one of Marcus’s
main buddies.
“What da fuck you ‘round here playin’ like dat fa’! Dat playin’ shit
gon’ get cho’ass fucked up!” Marcus said while looking Pee Wee square
in the eyes.
“Damn, nigga, I was jus’ messin’ wit’chú, you a’ight?” Pee Wee asked
with a smirk.
“I’m straight,”Marcus said while attempting to calm his nerves. “My
momma jus’blowin’ da shit out me early this morning.”
Marcus began to stroll back toward the house with a slight frown on
his face from the thought of facing his mother again once making it in
the house.
“What time you coming back out?” Pee Wee asked as he strolled
behind.
“In’a minute,”he responded without looking back.
“Yea right, nigga. You know damn well Steve ain’t gon’ let cho ass
back outside,”Pee Wee jokingly commented, knowing that his statement
would aggravate Marcus.
Marcus simply shook his head at what was said as he dreaded going
back in the house. Once making it inside, Marcus instantly went to his
room that he shared with Chris. He then grabbed his underclothes and
headed toward the bathroom to take a shower, only to see that it was
being occupied by Steve.
“Shhhhit!”Marcus sighed angrily. Any small thing that Steve did
irritated the hell out of Marcus. “Maaa!” Marcus yelled out for his mother
in a sympathetic tone of voice as he began marching toward her room.
“What?”
“Could you gimme a couple dolla’s, please?” he asked, trying to sound
sincere as possible.
“For what?”Sylvia countered irritably.
“When I get dressed, me, Marlin, and JR goin’ up to the arcade room
on Sixteenth.”Marcus knew which ones of his friends’ names to mention.
If he would’ve said anything about Pee Wee or Lil G, she might’ve
rejected the whole idea, quick! Sylvia attended high school with JR’s and
Marlin’s mothers, so they kept tabs on each other’s kid. Lil G and Pee
Wee had only been around the neighborhood for a couple of years, and
they already had long rap sheets. Sylvia knew about their troubles, so she
never knowingly allowed Marcus to hang out with them.
“I don’t have it. You know the first of the month jus’ passed and I had
to catch up on my bills. Knock on the door and ask Steve for a
18 Michael F. Blake
few dollars. I’m sure he’ll give it to you.” She said all of this while looking
in the mirror, combing her long wavy sandy brown hair.
Marcus left the room sucking air between his teeth from his mother’s
request. Out of all people, Steve was the last person on earth that he
wanted to ask for something from, even though there was a possibility
that Steve would give it to him. There was something about Steve that
Marcus wasn’t feeling.
What the hell. All he can say is no, Marcus thought to himself.
“Hey, Steve, you think I could—”
“I ain’t got no money, homey,” Steve cut him off from making
his statement as he walked toward their mother’s room with just a little
towel wrapped around his waist.
Marcus walked back to his room, cursing Steve out under his breath,
“I knew I shouldn’t of asked dat nigga fa’ shit. I don’t even fuck wit’
him like dat.”Marcus muttered out in a low-pitched voice.
Marcus didn’t let his mother nor Steve spoil his plans to go outside.
After jumping out the shower and making it to his room, he impatiently
brushed through his dresser drawers, looking for something fresh to
wear outside. Everything he pulled out, he threw back into the drawer
because either he had worn a certain outfit too many times or it simply
wasn’t intriguing enough to him.
“Damn, man, I ain’t got shit to put on!” Marcus said aggressively
while picking out his cleanest pair of shorts and shirt that matched. “I
don’t even wanna wear this shit!” he continued to complain to himself,
obviously feeling frustrated from how his day had already begun.
Once Marcus put on his clothes, he proceeded to go outside. He
managed to get over being denied money because it wasn’t the first time
he had been turned down when he asked for something. You could
tell from Marcus’s reactions lately that he was growing tired of being
rejected.
When Marcus stepped foot out the front door, he looked around to
see that the block was filled with everyone who lived on Hamlin. Marcus
began strolling down the street going toward Cermak Road , heading in
the direction of the Twenty-first Strip, which was five blocks down from
Cermak and Hamlin. Before he could make it to Cermak, Marcus saw
his little brother sitting on one of his friends’ porch, eating some snacks
from the store.
“Where you get some money from?” Marcus asked while rudely
snatching a bag of chips out of Chris’s hands.
“From my daddy, why?” Chris asked with a frown.
“When he give it to you?”
“Just a few minutes ago befo’ he jumped in the car wit’ Big C.”
The Holy City 19
“How much he hit chú wit’?” Marcus asked curiously.
“Twenty dolla’s,” Chris replied mockingly
“Let me borrow a fin?” (five dollars)
“A’ight . . . ,” Chris said as he reached into his pocket. “You betta’
pay me my money back too!” Chris demanded as if he was the older of
the two.
“I got chú,”Marcus responded as he was accepting the money from
his younger brother. Of course Marcus had no intentions of paying Chris
back anytime soon.
Just when Marcus cooled down, his frustration built up again when
he had to borrow money from his little brother.
“Ain’t this some shit, here I am the big brotha’ gettin’ money from
my lil brotha’.Man dis some straight bullsh—”
“Aey, Marcus!”a loud voice from afar yelled, breaking Marcus from
his train of thoughts.
Marcus squinched his eyes to see who was calling him. “Awe, dat’s Lil
G . . . ,”Marcus said to himself. “Wudd up!” he hollered down the street
with his arms raised in the air.
As they continued to walk, they met up with each other halfway down
Cermak on the corner of Lawndale .
“Wassup, Jo,”Marcus greeted Lil G by performing the IVL
handshake.
“Shhit . . . Tired than a muthafucka. Been on tha’ block hustlin’ all
night,” said Lil G as he stretched and yawned. Lil G was a couple of years
older than Marcus, and he was full-fledged in the streets.
“Where you was on yo’ way to?” Lil G asked.
“I was fenna’walk ova’ on Twenty-first to fuck wit’ y’all.”
“Everybody up at the arcade room. You know that’s where all the
hoes at right now,” Lil G said, shaking his head up and down with a
smile.
“A’ight then . . . I’a jus’ catch up wit’ y’all niggaz later on,” Marcus
said in an upsetting tone as he began walking off.
“What’chú mean?” Lil G asked while looking puzzled. “You ain’t
coming up there?”
“I’m fucked up, Jo. I ain’t got no bread.”
“Maaannn . . . come ‘ere, lord!” Lil G called Marcus back as he
continued to walk.
“Wassup.”Marcus turned around and slowly walked back.
“Nigga, you know as long as I got it, you straight,” Lil G claimed as
he entered both of his front pockets, pulling out a thick stack of cash
from each pocket. Lil G looked through both stacks of money while
whispering to himself as if he was sorting out which stack was for what.
20 Michael F. Blake
“Okay,” Lil G mumbled to himself as he put one stack back in his pocket.
“Here you go, my nigga.” He peeled off six twenty-dollar bills to give
Marcus.
“Nah, I can’t‘cept yo’ hard earned money, Jo.” He reacted by shaking
his head.
“Listen, man . . . If you ain’t gon’ accept my money and we homies,
then you need to get out here and get it yo’ self. Even though we young,
I still hate to see a real nigga like you out here strugglin’ when I kno’
you got this street shit in you. Shhiiit, you prob’le stronger than all us
put together.”Lil G laughed, forcing a smirk upon Marcus’s face as he
stuffed the money into his hand.
Marcus stood there in a daze for a minute as he thought about the
promise he made to himself after his father was murdered. He promised
himself that he would never get caught up in the street life. He was now
contemplating on whether or not the early choice he made in life was
the best fit for his well-being.
“Marcus, Marcus,” Lil G repeated, attempting to get Marcus out of a
deep thought.“Ya a’ight?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m straight,” he said with a confused expression upon
his face as he stuffed the money into his pocket.
“Come’on, Jo, let’s go get us some weed and get up on these hoes
down here at the arcade.”
“Yeah I’m wit it, let’s ride,” Marcus said while still looking confused.
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