|
Why Book Covers Are So Important
Unless
you don't have eyes, people are visual. If there's a handsome guy
sitting across from me during my daily commute on the train, I'm going
to look. If I'm away on vacation, I'm going to appreciate the beautiful
sights around me, because I know that I'm there to relax. If my mom
bakes one of her yummy peach cobblers, I'm going to feast on it with my
eyes first, and then I'm going to devour it. In the world of books, book
covers work in the same way. There are probably millions of them out
there, but most readers are only looking for one title. Just think, your
book cover is going to be the very first thing that a buyer will see.
If you're suddenly feeling the pressure of of just how important a book
cover really might be, then continue to read on.
“I've
penned a stellar novel. People are going to love me once they read what
I've written.” Plenty of authors are probably thinking the exact same
thing. But how are you going to let people know about this stellar body
of work that you've just created? I'll tell you how. You're going to
have a fabulous book cover that will make your book stand out from the
rest. And don’t worry, I get it. Writers aren't book designers, but
here's where you bring in someone to help with bringing your vision to
life. Outsourcing can be your new best friend.
How to Find a Book Cover Designer That Fits Your Needs
I'm pretty infatuated with the book cover for my debut novel, The Truth About Emily,
but it wasn't a one step process of knowing what I wanted straight
away. It started with me doing research. Think about your storyline or
nonfiction topic. Jot down some ideas so that you have a place of
reference to pull from. Do you have a title already? Great. If you do,
then keep that in mind too, because it's another source. Now go online
and begin looking at other people's book covers. Are they popular
authors? Ask yourself what it is, if anything, that's drawing your eyes
to it. How do you feel about the colors, the images, the font style, and
the font size? Also, check out some of the books that you've previously
purchased; specifically on the strength of its book cover. What caused
you to click on buying it? Next up, what you want to do, is take all of
that information and keep it somewhere safe. We'll come back to it.
Now
you'll need to find yourself a competent book cover designer. Fiverr
(an online company that will do almost any task for you for $5.00) has
loads of people on there who can assist you for a bargain, but just
remember that most of those people specialize in quantity over quality.
By this, I mean that you might end up with a book cover identical to
someone else or it may have an appearance that looks manufactured. This
isn’t to say that there aren’t some gems on there, but you'll have to
diligently seek them out. As for myself, I chose to go with a
freelancer. I was drawn to the element of selection in having access to a
host of talented designers with exceptional portfolios and being able
to make a choice based on a price that I’ve set. My final winning pick
was Gavin Pledger, Creative Soutions King).
By
now ,you’ve found yourself a book cover designer (as far as the work
contract is concerned, make sure that you add in how many times they’re
willing to revise. Negotiate a flat fee). The first thing that they’ll
want to know is what creative direction you’d like them to go in. This
is when you whip out the notes that you’ve been compiling for your
project. It’s your starting point. Don't be afraid to let them know what
works for you, and what doesn’t. A really good book cover designer will
be as excited as you are in getting right!
"If you LOVE New York, if you’re a
name-dropping, fashion fiend careerist; fed up with serial dating,
plagued with a thirst for sex, then you’ll totally stalk me for what
I've penned.” - Author, Madi Brown
Description
29-year-old
Emily Greene looks the part, but she’s still working on becoming a
modern-day woman. Not that she’s one to back down from a challenge, but
living as an eternal work-in-progress wasn't exactly the goal that she
had in mind. It’s a harsh but true realization---the idea that that time
isn't on her side, and the notion that wanting to have it all, doesn't
mean getting it. The verdict is in; with zero prospects for a
relationship and a stalled blogging career, Emily has every reason to
believe that she’s been living a life too humdrum for her own good.
Making
the change won’t be easy. She’ll have to do whatever it takes; start
dating like a man, become more selective about which RSVP's she accepts,
and work even harder at getting her dream job.The payoff’s huge; a
modern twist on a storybook ending, but gains don’t often come without
risks. In the here and now Emily just may be forced to choose...It’s got
to be one or the other----the profession that she’s always wanted, or
the love that she’s never had.
˃˃˃ Praise for Madi Brown &
her debut novel, The Truth About Emily
"The
added depth of character promises complexity but wraps everything in
the saucy cloak of Emily's evolving personality and newfound beliefs
about life, love, and the real nature of happiness. And this is where
The Truth About Emily outshines many competitors, making it a
recommended read for those seeking more than a standard romance novel." - D. Donovan, eBook Reviewer, Midwest Book Reviews
"This
book has just about anything a girl would love to read about. If
there's anything Emily Greene has is ISH and lots of it, oh the
ending... This book is a total keeper, just anything about fashion to
relationships to friends and family." - Y. Sanchez, Goodreads
Genre – Contemporary Women's Fiction
Rating – PG18
Pegasus by Marilyn Holdsworth
SATURDAY WAS A WARM, sunny day, just as Win had predicted,
and the drive out of Los Angeles was a welcome change from the heavy
work schedule Hannah had been demanding of herself for the last few
days. Sitting next to Win, wearing a plaid shirt and jeans with her hair
pulled back and fastened with a barrette at the nape of her neck,
Hannah looked young and vulnerable. The miles sped by, and they chatted
easily together, but Win made no further mention of what was so
important for her to see at the ranch.
“I’m looking forward to riding today. I haven’t been on a horse for ages. Hope I haven’t forgotten how,” she worried.
“Like riding a bicycle,” he laughed. “Once you learn, you never forget. You’ll do fine.”
Win
turned the sleek, midnight-blue Jaguar into a long, narrow drive
flanked by split-rail fencing. On either side, rolling green pastures
spread as far as she could see. An arched gateway marked the entrance to
the ranch. Mounted at the top of the crescent was an imposing round
emblem emblazoned with a large metal sculpture of Pegasus at its center.
“Pegasus, the winged horse,” she exclaimed. “What a wonderful name for a horse ranch. Do all your horses fly?”
He
smiled. “I’m sure when my dad was so into racing, he wished they could.
But it was my grandfather who founded the ranch and named it Pegasus.
He named it after the Greek mythological horse in hopes of pleasing my
grandmother. She was a very scholarly lady of Greek heritage, very
interested in the arts, especially the Greek classics. Grandfather spent
his entire lifetime trying to please her, but I’m afraid to no avail.
I’m told she detested the West and the ranch, preferring Eastern city
life and its more sophisticated offerings. They separated shortly after
my father was born. She kept her Eastern townhouse, attending operas and
grand parties while he built his empire out here.”
“Sad she
couldn’t have enjoyed it with him,” Hannah said. “It’s so wonderfully
tranquil here, a truly rare and beautiful setting with the mountains in
the background and the rolling green hillsides. Didn’t she ever see the
horses race? Not even when the ranch’s prize winners were entered in all
the country’s grandest races?”
“No, she never did. And
it was a great sorrow to my grandfather. But, oddly enough, he never
divorced her. He always hoped she’d change her mind, come back to him,
and learn to love the land as he did. My father was raised by Mary
Little Deer’s mother here at the ranch. He was an only child, of course,
and the lifestyle Grandmother lived in the East was not meant for a
boisterous little boy. So he grew up at Pegasus and loved the ranch
until his dying day. Now it’s mine, and I must say, I share his deep
love for the place.”
They had pulled up to a sprawling
Spanish hacienda with a red tiled roof and thick adobe-brick walls.
Built around a central courtyard, the house had the look of an early
California mission.
“It’s really the picture of the Old West, Win. I can see why you love it here,” she said as he helped her out of the car.
The
house’s thick walls and Mexican tile flooring made it cool and
inviting. He ushered her through wide carved doors adorned by large
bronze knockers shaped like horse heads. As they stood together in the
dimly lit hall, Hannah blinked to adjust her eyes. From a stained-glass
window at the end, a prism of light slanted across the floor,
illuminating a majestic bronze sculpture of Pegasus standing like a
sentinel in the massive entry. She stared at the beautiful sculpture.
“It looks like it would take flight at any moment, leave its marble
pedestal for the heavens.”
“My grandfather had it made in Europe,” Win explained as she continued to study the art piece.
“Another
futile attempt to win back Athena’s heart, I suppose. The artist who
did the piece has become quite famous. Perhaps you know of him—P. J.
Mene. He did some smaller renditions of the same subject for him. One is
in the garden, but I’m not sure where the others are now.”
Hannah
walked closer to the exquisitely detailed bronze statue, gently
touching its flowing mane and extended wings. “He certainly captured the
spirit of the horse.”
“I thought you might like it.”
“And is this what you wanted so much for me to see?”
“No,
it isn’t,” he said, smiling mysteriously. “You’ll have to wait for
that,” he teased. “Now let’s see if Mary Little Deer left us a snack in
the library.” He led her through wide double-oak doors into a large
high-ceilinged room with open carved beams. At the far end was a massive
stone fireplace surrounded by walls lined with bookshelves.
“What a lovely room, and such a collection of fine books,” Hannah said, scanning the leather-bound volumes.
“Another
of Grandfather’s attempts to please Athena. All the classics are there,
with a very special collection of Greek literature and ancient
mythology. I’m afraid the architecture he chose when he built the ranch
and its name do seem a bit incongruous, but when you know the history of
the place, it fits together after all. I’m rattling on about the past
too much,” Win said, suddenly glancing across the room. “Sure hope
you’re hungry, Mary Little Deer’s done her usual I see. Light snack just
isn’t in her vocabulary. Unless she hears the legs groan the table
isn’t set, “ he laughed. A tray of assorted sandwiches , a large fruit
bowl and a plate of freshly baked cookies with a pot of coffee stood
waiting on a long, low knotty-pine table in front of a deep saddle-brown
leather sofa.
“It all looks delicious, “ Hannah said. “And actually I’m starved.”
When
lunch was finished and cleared away by the silently efficient Mary
Little Deer, they went in search of the stables. Once again, Winston
Caughfield III was right; it was like riding a bicycle. Hannah settled
easily into the saddle on a bay mare. Riding next to her, astride his
favorite horse, Alabaster, Win guided them around the barns, past the
corrals and the training track, and toward the gently rolling hills.
They rode for more than an hour, enjoying the sunny afternoon and clear,
fresh air. The bay mare responded eagerly when Hannah nudged her into a
canter. Although spirited, the horse was smooth-gaited and perfectly
trained, and Alabaster pranced, tossing his head to show off for them
both. Win rode with the grace and skill of an accomplished rider. It was
obvious how much he loved the horse as he reached over to pat his
arched neck when they pulled up after galloping across an open meadow.
He
called to Hannah as she reined in beside him. “Over there,” he said,
pointing to the ridge. “Just over that crest is where we’re going.” He
urged Alabaster into a trot, beckoning for her to follow. At the top of
the rise, they pulled the horses up, and Hannah gazed down into a small
valley. Several corrals dotted the landscape, each with its own
enclosure and hay bin. A feed storage shed stood close by, and a barn
was under construction at the far end.
Hannah looked
questioningly at Win, but he said nothing, just guided his horse down
the slope; she fell in behind him. Hannah’s mare picked her way down the
hillside and came up next to Alabaster at the base of the hill. “Well,
this is it,” he said, spreading his arm wide to indicate the corrals and
structures.
Hannah looked at him blankly. The corrals were empty, and there seemed to be no one around.
“Come
on,” Win said. “I want to show you something.” They dismounted, tied
the horses, and walked toward the newly erected barn. He swung the door
wide for her to enter.
“Almost finished. Some work inside and some paint outside left to do,” he said with satisfaction.
“This week will do it, and then we’ll be ready for occupancy. Don’t you think?” He turned to a very puzzled Hannah.
“Yes,
it does seem to be almost finished,” she responded. “Are you planning
on moving some of your horses here from outlying pastures or the main
barn?”
“No,” he said. “I’m not. This is where I thought we could put your adoptees.” His eyes were twinkling with delight now.
“My adoptees?”
“I
read those articles you gave me last month,” he said soberly. “And I
know how you feel about what’s happening to the American wild horses,
the mustangs. You told me yourself about wanting to do a series of
stories on the Adopt-a-Horse Program sponsored by the Bureau of Land
Management and all the problems plaguing the plan. I thought if you had
some space to save a few yourself, it might ease the pain I know you
feel for those animals. And we do have room here at the ranch to take in
a few.” He looked at her hopefully, wanting so much to please her and
let her know he understood how seriously she took this cause.
“Win,
I can’t let you do this for me,” she said. “Even if I wanted to, it’s
not right. And besides, I could never afford it. At best, I might scrape
up the money for the initial adoption fees.”
“Who says
it isn’t right?” he broke in quickly. “We can make it strictly a
business deal. You can rent the space at a price you can afford, and
I’ll give you the feed to start you off. Simple as that. Now it’s
settled. How soon do you want to see about the adoption? I’ll even throw
in a little assistance in the training program if you’ll settle for one
old trainer, me. We’ll turn them into trail mounts and find homes for
them. When you begin to turn a profit, you can start buying the feed,
stock, and all that. I know there must be good homes to be found for
well-schooled riding horses.”
She hugged him. “Oh, Win, it’s perfect.”
“One
stipulation,” he cautioned her sternly. “You do your articles on saving
the horses, but leave all the corruption, especially Vincent Rossi, out
of it. He’s major trouble.”
Her brow furrowed, “Well, if he’s involved in any way, that will be hard to do. But I’ll try. I give you my word on that.”
“Good.
Then let’s get down to business. As I understand it, all you need is a
$125.00 adoption fee and a horse trailer to haul the animal. Do you have
any idea where to go to get these horses? Are they rounded up out in
Montana, Wyoming, or where?”
“I’ve gotten some information, Win, but I’ll get more next week. I think a lot are in Nevada. I’ll find out.”
“Good.
I’ll wait to hear from you about it in a few days,” he said. “Now we
better get back to the ranch and to the city. I have an early-morning
deposition to prepare for if I’m going to continue to have any law
practice.”
All the way back to the ranch house, she
chattered excitedly about the mustangs, the Adopt-a-Horse Program, and
their plans. Win smiled happily at her, knowing the project was sure to
bring her closer to him. The idea had come to him almost immediately
after she had shown him the tiny newspaper clipping about the BLM’s
horse adoption program. Her passion and love for her work involving the
humane treatment of animals really did impress him. She was dedicated
and tireless in her efforts to expose animal abuse and exploitation. He
was really looking forward to helping her, but mostly, he had to admit,
he just wanted to be important in her life. He’d known that much after
their first date.
They had met so unexpectedly. She was seated
with friends in the box next to his on the opening day of the Penbrook
Park Races. Quite by accident, they were introduced by his friend Neil
Jacobs, whose thoroughbreds were running that day. She immediately
impressed him with her quiet, unassuming manner. Neil had spoken of her
articles and told him she was sure to be a candidate for the Pulitzer
Prize one day.
Long ago, after losing his first wife to
cancer, Win had resigned himself to a solitary life. But looking at
Hannah’s young, eager face today, he felt how much he wanted her near
him. At forty-five, Winston Caughfield III was a handsome, distinguished
man, and he was very aware that he was fifteen years her senior. But
when they were together, the age difference seemed of no importance to
either of them. In many ways, she seemed mature far beyond her years,
perhaps because of her total commitment to her work and the tragedy of
her young husband’s death. She seldom spoke of her loss; only once had
she mentioned that ill-fated Chicago flight. She was very courageous. He
looked over at her now, long stands of hair loosened from the barrette
streaming in the wind as she rode. He never would have suspected that
there was such strength in that delicate figure riding beside him, but
more than once he had seen her face her adversaries with determination.
Some secret source of energy seemed to well up and spill out of her.
He’d known when she started her investigation into this horse thing that
she would be relentless. He looked forward to sharing in it, but at the
same time he felt a foreboding sense of fear for her. Above all, he
wanted to protect her and keep her near him.
As a novelist, I draw on many real life experiences to provide
background for my books. After completing studies in Literature and
History at Occidental College, I became a staff writer on a travel
magazine, and throughout my career I have traveled extensively all over
the world. Because
I love horses, I owned and trained them. I support horse rescue and
wild mustang preservation. Based on my experience with horses and my
research on abuse issues, I wrote Pegasus.
As
a descendant of James Monroe, I did extensive research at the James
Monroe Museum in Virginia about him and his wife Elizabeth Kortright
Monroe. I also visited their home, Ashlawn/Highland in Albemarle County.
This resulted in my novel, The Beautiful American. Making Wishes, was based partly on my experiences as creator, owner and operator of a greeting card company.
Elloree
Prince is an attractive, creative young woman who marries a wealthy
businessman, Tom Randall. After courting his bride with unrelenting
determination, Tom moves her into old-moneyed Oak View, where
generations of Randalls have lived for years. Outwardly, Elloree appears
to settle into raising their two sons within Oak View’s stifling social
structure, but inwardly, she yearns for her artistic work. An
unexpected phone call from Mark Williams, her former employer, offers
her the career opportunity of a lifetime, and she must make a choice.
She is torn between her devotion to her sons and her love for her work.
Her decision to return to Wishes, Inc. brings dramatic life changes to
her and the people she loves.
Genre - Women’s fiction
Rating – PG-13
“Abby
Long is thrilled when she offers the winning bid for an antique desk at
an auction. With its intricately inlaid woods and elegant style, the
desk is perfect for Abby; it is the gift she promised herself to finally
celebrate her thriving antique business. She has no idea that the
antique desk holds a secret that will lead her on a fascinating,
life-changing journey back in time.
When Abby discovers a hidden diary
stuffed inside a secret compartment in the desk, she can hardly wait to
read the spidery, faded script. As she carefully turns the tattered
pages, she reads the captivating story of two remarkable women from
opposite backgrounds who somehow manage to form an unforgettable bond
against the backdrop of a fledgling America struggling to find its place
in the world. Elizabeth Kortright Monroe, the wife of James Monroe, and
Jasmine, a young slave girl, develop an extraordinary relationship as
they are united by pivotal historic events, political intrigues, and
personal tragedies.
From
a bucolic Virginia plantation to the bloodied, starving streets of
post-revolutionary Paris, this powerful tale follows the lives of two
courageous women from the past as they quietly influence—and inspire—a
woman of today’s world.”
Genre - Historical fiction
Rating – G
Widowed
at thirty, Hannah Bradley is a successful journalist focusing on animal
abuse issues. An accidental meeting introduces her to lawyer, Winston
Caughfield III. Drawn to Hannah’s gentle beauty and fierce commitment to
her work, Win joins her in a fight to save wild mustangs from
slaughter. Together they rescue a badly injured horse with a mysterious
background.
Hannah’s search to discover the animal’s true identity leads
them into a web of black marketeering and international intrigue.
Action packed with crisp colorful dialogue the story propels the reader
to a race against time conclusion. Marilyn Holdsworth delivers a
gripping tale of mystery, adventure and romance guaranteed to hold the
interest and capture the heart. She brings true-life characters together
with real-life issues to create a fast-paced irresistible story.
Genre – Contemporary fiction
Rating – PG
Since You’ve Been Gone
Stay with me.
Don’t fall asleep too soon.
The angels can wait for a moment.
—Westlife, “Written in the Stars”
You
promised you would never leave me. Thirty-five years ago, I looked you
directly in the eye and heard, “I will never leave you,” as we stood
next to the ocean. And now, like a thief in the night, you go. No last
words, no promises, no tears.
As
I look back at that moment, I can still feel your hand intertwined with
mine, each finger between mine, like an oyster shut tight against the
sea, protecting the treasure it carries inside. But the treasure was in
my belly, full of love and expectations.
We
walked like tourists along Pier 59, a place we came to think of as
home. Wind in our faces and a carefree spirit in our hearts. Gently you
stopped and pulled my hand so I would follow suit as you turned; I could
see your eyes full of love and complete devotion. I felt I could stay
in that moment forever. It was this feeling, this sublime happiness,
that I did not want changed or challenged. That’s when I turned to you
and looked into those blue eyes as I said aloud, “I don’t want this to
change.”
Your
face distorted into a concerned expression as you tried to reassure me.
“It will be different when the baby arrives; it will be even better.”
“It’s not that. I’m excited about meeting the baby and having it with us.”
So you poked at the subject with concern on your face, as you asked, “Then what is it? What don’t you want to change?”
“Us,”
I answered blithely, taking in a large whiff of air through my nose as a
source of strength for what I was about to request of you. As I looked
out to the sea right in front of us, I said, “I don’t want to forget
this feeling. I want to always feel this love and peace between us.”
You gave me that dimply smile. “We will always have it. And when we don’t, we will have the direction in which we want to go.”
As
a sea gull passed close to us, landing in the water with a tiny splash,
I looked at you and finally said what had been on my mind, the deep
seed of this conversation. “I don’t want to lose you.” Once again, your
easy laugh, followed by an enveloping hug, while you gave me the grin
I’d come to realize meant, You’re hormonal. “I’m serious. Just promise me…”
Can anything good follow the best thing that ever happened to you?
Amelia
Weiss loved her husband of thirty-five years very much, but now he’s
left her a widow. Without him, she is unable to work in her sculpture
studio without crying. She no longer has a bridge to her estranged
daughter. And she can’t seem to keep her mind in the present.
But
when her daughter reaches out asking for her help and her agent
threatens a lawsuit if Amelia doesn’t deliver for an upcoming exhibit,
she’s forced to make a choice. Will she reengage with her life and the
people in it—allowing room for things to be different than they were
before? Or, will she remain stuck in the past, choosing her memories
over real-life relationships?
Thrust fully into the present, Amelia stumbles into a surprising journey of self-discovery.
Genre – Contemporary Fiction, Literary Fiction, Women’s Fiction
Rating – PG-13
I write love stories. I don’t exactly know how this came about after a career of writing more than a dozen nonfiction books. All I can say is that one day a love story swam up from the depths of my heart and demanded to be written. I couldn’t have been more surprised. Then another one showed up. Then another. It’s a little like being taken over by aliens.
While my novels are certainly romantic, my previous publisher, Random House, didn’t want them called “Romance Novels.” They preferred “Literary Fiction,” which is fine…except it completely ignores my core readership, which is women who describe themselves as readers of romantic novels. Partly for that reason, Random House is no longer my publisher. They did not recognize the truth even when it was staring them in the face.
On the other hand, if you’re looking for a book cover with a scantily-clad woman wilting into the arms of some heavily muscled, bare chested hunk, you’ll be disappointed. Sorry about that. That’s not what my novels are like, though you’ll find plenty of drama and sex. I like to say my novels are “love stories for grownups.” By that I mean they’re for and about people who’ve put some years behind them and, as a result, bear some emotional scars. Maybe they’ve suffered losses from which they’re still trying to recover: the death of a spouse or partner, or divorce, or abuse. Few are those of us who reach middle age without scars like these. And yet…and yet…we still hope for the magic. So if you’re looking for a story with the ring of truth, a story you can believe in and relate to, then you’ve come to the right place.
Writing these novels has been a sort of journey of discovery for me. What I discovered by writing The Long Walk Home and Water, Stone, Heart, as well as my latest, Seasons’ End, is that I believe in second chances at love. And third. Deep down, don’t we all? I’m not particularly religious, but when I look at the Book of Genesis, it strikes me as significant that God did not just create Adam and say, “Off you go then, my boy, you’re on your own.” No, He also created Eve (And in so doing I’ve always thought it obvious that “Man” was clearly only God’s first draft: he did a way better job the second time around!).
What I’m saying is that I think human beings are meant to be partnered. Who they partner with is of no concern to me if they achieve connection and happiness. I also have immense respect for those who choose a solitary life. But I wasn’t made that way. I suspect few people are. At bottom, I think we long to be known by another. Deeply, intimately known. I think we seek those who will know and accept us. Who will, to put it simply, love us. Because isn’t that what love is really about: finding someone who knows and accepts us as we are?
In my books, that’s what happens: damaged people find the courage to begin again with someone who believes in them.
Every summer for generations, three families intertwined by history, marriage, and career have spent “the season” at their beach cottage compounds on an island in Puget Sound. Today, Martha “Pete” Petersen, married to Tyler Strong, is the lynchpin of the “summer people.” In childhood, she was the tomboy every girl wanted to emulate and is now the mother everyone admires.
Colin Ryan, family friend and the island’s veterinarian, met Pete first in London, years earlier, when she visited his roommate, Tyler. He’s loved her, privately, ever since. Born in Manhattan’s Hell’s Kitchen, son of a bar owner, he’s always been dazzled by what he sees of the sun-kissed lives of the summer people.
But this summer, currents strong as the tides roil: jealousies grow, tempers flare, passions clash. Then, on the last day of the season, a series of betrayals alters the combined histories of these families forever.
As in previous novels, The Long Walk Home and Water, Stone, Heart, with Seasons’ End, Will North weaves vivid settings and memorable characters into a compelling tale of romance and suspense.
Genre – Women’s Contemporary Fiction
Rating – PG-13
1.- I studied Finance and Economics.
2.- Our family dog is named “Joy” that is mix between Pekinese and Poodle so we say she is a Poodlenese.
3.- English is my second language.
4.- At some point in my life I read every Danielle Steel novel I could find.
5.- While writing my first novel “Borrowing my mother’s saints” only a few people knew, because I was shy about writing.
6.- I link playlist or songs to the book and constantly hear them while writing. Yes, I even loop them some time.
7.- I always carry pen and paper in my handbag, inspiration hits sometimes in the most unexpected places.
8.- One of the scenes of “Borrowing my mother’s saints” was actually written first on a napkin.
9.- I cried sometimes while writing “Twelve Houses”
10.- After I finish writing a novel I get very sensitive and kind of blue, letting go of the characters I’ve loved for months.
Can anything good follow the best thing that ever happened to you?
Amelia Weiss loved her husband of thirty-five years very much, but now he’s left her a widow. Without him, she is unable to work in her sculpture studio without crying. She no longer has a bridge to her estranged daughter. And she can’t seem to keep her mind in the present.
But when her daughter reaches out asking for her help and her agent threatens a lawsuit if Amelia doesn’t deliver for an upcoming exhibit, she’s forced to make a choice. Will she reengage with her life and the people in it—allowing room for things to be different than they were before? Or, will she remain stuck in the past, choosing her memories over real-life relationships?
Thrust fully into the present, Amelia stumbles into a surprising journey of self-discovery.
Genre – Contemporary Fiction, Literary Fiction, Women's Fiction
Rating – PG-13
|
|
|
|
Posts
