My Debut in the Published World: Island Whispers

Here is a link to a website from the publishing company: http://www.ingramelliott.com/islandwhispers.html

So soon, so close, a couple of days and it hits the market. My baby has finally grown enough to stand on its own feet. I'm so excited! It's hard to convey in words, but a while back, I wrote this poem so hopefully it expresses my emotions.

I'm giddy with feelings,

happiness that bounces and joy that blooms,

my emotions can fill up this room.

There are things racing wildly and I can see it all now.

The world is before me and the world says, "Wow."

There is support for this baby I have, 

and there are friends that encourage it.

I have fed it. 

I have changed it. 

I have patiently rearranged it.

You see, my baby is special, I gave it its birth.

The characters, my plot, the things that give it worth.

I have nurtured this baby and it has begun to grow,

and although it may take time or seem a little slow

I'll give it all the love it deserves because this is my baby, my child, 

my innocent little thing

and all things we care for are worth our time and love

So when we give them the tools that they need, 

they will finally grow up and spread their own wings.

I also got my copy! It came last Friday and it looks beautiful. I have it sitting on my bookshelf now. It's so strange to flip through the pages and just see all these words that I've only seen on the computer until now. It's printed and physical. I can flip through the pages!

Island Whispers has reached the time of send off. It is my first contribution to the world in the form of a story. I hope that it will find a home with many readers and that they will enjoy it and share it.

Thank you

Guided by a Beaming Light

A lighthouse is a guide to ships, signaling the coast and providing light for them to see by. The rough waters of the ocean and the sandbars can be dangerous. They're important and they can also function as symbolism for a story. I'm wracking my brains for my second short story and I think something with a lighthouse might be good. I still haven't worked out the specifics, but luckily I took some pictures a while back that can give my mind images to play with.

This is Morris Island Light, we strolled along the dog beach to get to this point where wood blocked the tide and the lighthouse was a figure in the distance. I like this picture for the water. It looks like a painting at least in my mind. Pictures are so strange, how they capture a moment in time. They literally freeze time in the photo and preserve it. 

It might not look like much, but I was captivated by the rush of water and how it poured through the cracks between the wood. There's something hypnotic about the back and forth movement.

This is the first time I've posted a video so hopefully it works!

Walking in a Wintry Wave of White

A post for the weather:
I wrote a poem for every season and although I guess we have been in winter here for a while, it only seems to hit me now. I suppose it's the snow.
The flying, floating snow that falls on us all and the way that it landed and latched onto the hood of my coat. It created a crown of sorts, a band that froze along the edge, its iciness and the way each flake clung to my coat made another layer between me and the elements.

Snow Day! A winter wonderland which is cold and sharp

I think I wrote the poem because there was this archetypal list that explained what each concept generally meant and winter had a more negative connotation, something about sadness I think. Although, this is not necessarily what it has to be in writing or in life for I quite enjoy the winter months.
Poems can be written in the best of times or the worst, perhaps if you walk through the world with your eyes open, you might find inspiration from all of life.

Winter

Let the first flakes of this time,

fall out of the sky,

when feelings are sour limes,

and inevitably die.

The cold hard truth,

that makes hot tears fall fast,

people bold and uncouth,

making sure bonds never last.

That first they were your friend,

then your one true love,

that the relationship came to an end,

and out flew the dove.

That they were the shoulder you went to,

when you needed to cry,

and now because of them you’re feeling quite blue,

and need another shoulder on which to lie.

Now is the time when the earth goes to sleep,

and everything burrows in deep,

because the heaviness of the sky,

weighs on them so

and the weight of it makes them feel low

Slogging through Short Stories

Short stories are generally estimated around 1,000 words to 30,000 words. They're not particularly long, but they are difficult to write. The difficulty lies with their deceptive length. People assume that if a story is shorter it must be easier to write, because there is less to write. However, it is more difficult because every detail, every sentence counts so much more.

No detail can be spared scrutiny. You must analyze and see it from an outsider's perspective. What will they see? How will it sound to them? What kind of inferences may they make?

I'm taking an intermediate course for fiction writing and we are supposed to write three short stories over the course of the semester. I prefer novel length because I like the details and descriptions that you can add in. Also, I find it harder to come up with an idea for a short story because they are often left "unfinished" with an ambiguous ending.

I've started writing the first short story, but it is slow-going and although I like the concept, I don't feel as if it is my type of writing. The story is a conversation about desire and what that means. It also takes place in February, which we are only a few weeks away from. February and a conversation on desire fit together, as well as the fact that it takes place in a chocolate shop. Perhaps, I'll share it here once it's finished. That is, if the well meaning comments of my classmates fail to send it to the chopping block.

Have you ever seen an alpaca? Well now you've seen two. They're hardy creatures. We found about six of them outside this store in New Hampshire, or was it Vermont? Since those states are so tiny, it's hard to remember which border we crossed and where we were when we saw them. Either way alpacas are fluffy and more friendly than llamas. Llamas spit, or so I've heard, I haven't actually met a llama. So perhaps someone else can clarify for me.

Hogs in the snow. I'm not sure how they stand it, because when I'm outside in the cold, it feels as if ice water is running down my legs. When I'm writing, I like to have images to refer to, sometimes I include animals as integral players and it helps to observe an animal to see what it does.

A Writer's Wind

Oh a sweet wind is a blowing, and the ideas just keep flowing...

The wind put up a fight when we climbed the snow-covered hill to the Flavor Graveyard in Vermont. Ben & Jerry's factory seemed to have created a slip & slide with ice covering their sidewalks and pavement. It was as if they'd put the ice cream outside as we marched through the cold and the wind. However, we didn't let that stop us. We hiked onward. Here is a shot of multiple gravestones. We took pictures next to our favorites and I highly recommend visiting because it is fun and life is meant to be full of fun moments.

I wish I constantly knew what I wanted to write, but often it just appears randomly. Even if I am working on something, I might have a clear direction and end up stumbling on the fringes of a greater idea.

It helps to get something written thats for sure. I think it was Jodi Picoult who said something about a blank page can't be edited at all.

Sometimes you can catch the writer's wind (I nicknamed it for the "second wind" you get after you're exhausted), basically everything is in reach and you write like fifty pages at once. Writer's winds are rare though and (in my experience) they don't last long, so you can't write a full story depending on it.

Have you ever had those blissful moments of energized work? (It doesn't have to be about writing)

First Lines or First Impressions - You've got to make them count

Ready to bring in the new year?

May your 2018 be full of joy, laughter, love and friendship.

What makes you pick up a book?

Quite possibly the cover draws you in first, perhaps you do read the summary to see what it's all about, but we don't buy books for their covers or their summaries. We buy them for the stories between the flimsy front and back, the pages that are so neat and typed, so black and white.
We want the stories.
My process is to read a little, a chapter, the whole first half (depending on how much time I have in the bookstore), to get a feel for the novel that I might want to buy.
But, a third thing that will draw you in is the very first sentence you read in the novel.

Cute dedications help too, but most people don't read those until after they own the book and have sat down to read it on their own time.

A first line will make you stop and reevaluate what you picked up. It might convince you to buy it; it might convince you to put it back on the shelf. No matter your reaction there are so many elements of a novel that are important.

So, what makes a great first line?

Consider some famous examples:
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. —Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice(1813)

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair. —Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities (1859)

Courtesy of: http://americanbookreview.org/100bestlines.asp

Of course, it's not just classic books and long dead authors that have truly memorable lines.
Here are some more recent additions:

“First the colors.
Then the humans. 
That’s usually how I see things.
Or at least, how I try.”
The Book Thief by Markus Zusak

“A thief is a lot like a wizard. I have quick hands. And I can make things disappear. But then I stole the magician’s locus magicalicus and almost disappeared myself forever.”
The Magic Thief by Sarah Prineas 

“How does one describe Artemis Fowl? Various psychiatrists have tried and failed.”
Artemis Fowl by Eoin Colfer

Courtesy of: https://www.huffingtonpost.com/mary-jane-hathaway/38-best-first-lines-in-no_b_8836484.html


Finally, I give you a sneak peek at a few of my first lines:

"The first time I saw her she was skipping along the Roman Bridge of Córdoba, wearing a lemon yellow skirt and a vibrant shade of violet sweater."

"I was ten years old when my parents were gutted and hung up so that their boots barely scraped the deck."

"The Princes were all accounted for, twenty-four of the highest class from around the land."

"Presently, I shook off my coat."