I have no time!

So sad, but I haven't been able to do anything with my book. It has been so busy, and I want to spend time on the synopsis, but I can hardly find time to breathe. My April so far has been spent planting and caring for baby chickens, and of course working and working. I've done spring cleaning, helped start a garden and plant many flowers. I hope to come back soon with news that I've completed the synopsis, but I don't believe I'm going to find the time for a while.

The April Fool

It smells so wonderful outside! Spring is in the air and blossoms float downward in the breeze from the bradford pear trees. It's a lovely day out, bright and sunny, and here I am inside at work. Work has taken a lot of my time, but I must be honest and say a fair amount has gone to spring cleaning. Perhaps a bit early, but better now than farther into spring when the weddings will take every weekend up. I feel like writing about flowers and dancing children, a gentle breeze and the smell of rain; moist cool grass and colored blossoms and the sound of birds up in the trees. What a wonderful day, but I'm an April fool.

Reflection

It is nice to be able to sit back and reflect on how far I've come with my book. It's had so many ups and downs, and by far the biggest hurtle has been cutting it in half, but I have moved on and my now 460 double spaced courier 12 point manuscript is finished. Am I anywhere near to the end of the publishing process? No. I have a few people who will read it now that it's "chopped" so to speak, one of which has never read it before. I had to edit so many things out and so much went into the second book, but I am pleased with what I have. It has been such a challenge just getting it to this point. From barely beginning, to a virus on my computer, from work and school interuptions, to editing and word count issues, it has been a lot to do. I'd have it no other way though. I hope with a solid hook, a good query, intriguing synopsis, and engaging story I will be able to get this thing published!

Snowy Day

It is a snowy day today, beautiful and cloudy with a blanket of about 8 inches of snow on the ground. I am enjoying the day off from work. Sadly, I have not touched my book since I chopped it in half, but I will return to it. I needed to take a step back after such a drastic thing. As I watch the gently falling snowflakes I recall why winter is such a beautiful season.

Elizabeth Azpurua

A New Look

I've changed things a bit around here - new font colors and a banner at the top. I got a little bored and tried to get a layout - but alas, I couldn't figure out how to make it work even with the instructions. It takes me a bit. So, the same layout, new colors and banner. I'm a really creative person. Really.

Check out the blog for the company I work for: http://smokymountainweddings.blogspot.com
I add posts on there as well as here - so, if you're interested in the ups and downs of the wedding business you can check it out!

For the most part I've been juggling work, but I will get around to my final (I hope) edit soon! I'll keep you posted.

Yes, I made it happen

In the time from my last post I have triumphed. My book is half the size it was - now, whether I'm happy with it, well, I haven't decided. It's in need of one more edit to make sure everything flows after I chopped, and chopped, and chopped. Anyway, it's 115,000 words. I did it. Now why do I feel sick? Hmmm...

The Dreaded Word Count

Here I am, ready to send my story - or so I thought. Yes, you can call me naive, new, or nitwit, but I am 100,000 words over where I need to be for the market. I must condense a 210,000 word novel to about 115,000 or 125,000. So, I have begun the painful process of seeing what I can and can't get rid of. It's really like cutting off your fingers. Or an arm. Both legs. Painful.

I know that sending it now will only send it straight to the rejection pile, so in order to give my writing a fighting chance I will edit. Again.

You see, a double spaced manuscript in courier 12 point is around 250 words per paper. I had around 840 pages...I need 440-500... That's half my book!!! Then you multiply the page number by 250 and get your word count - it's only an estimation really. Mine is the size of two books. And no, that doesn't mean I can cut it in half and be done with it. I just have to step back and really look at what I need in my first book. Some things could always wait for the second. Right?

I tell myself it will be worth it.

I really want it to be.

But the book is my child and the pages are limbs and - you get the idea.

Anyway, I have the agents picked, the query letter ready....the word count will be fixed. Soon. That's all that's holding me back. Really. *sigh*

An Update

Check out the blogs I've added to the side.

A Year of Blogging

A year of blogging and I'm a lot farther behind in my book's progress than I wanted to be. Well, on a positive note I found time during winter break for writing and I was able to edit a few more things on my first book. I enjoyed family time and relaxation and even snow! Although, right now you'd never know that a few days ago we had snow. It's sixty-four degrees, windy, with the promise of rain. Very odd January weather. I look forward to the slow time the rest of the month - it's been so nice for a change. I should have a lot of free time until March or April. As long as I stay motivated I should be able to accomplish a lot. Wish me luck!

Remember...

The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,
I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.

Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
Transforming the yard to a winter delight.
The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,
Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.

My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.
In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,
So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.

The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,
But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.
Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know,
Then the sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.

My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
And I crept to the door just to see who was near.
Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.

A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.

'What are you doing?' I asked without fear,
'Come in this moment, it's freezing out here!
Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!'

For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts
To the window that danced with a warm fire's light
Then he sighed and he said 'Its really all right,

I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night.'
'It's my duty to stand at the front of the line,
That separates you from the darkest of times.
No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
My Gramps died at ' Pearl on a day in December,
'Then he sighed, 'That's a Christmas 'Gram always remembers.

'My dad stood his watch in the jungles of 'Nam',
And now it is my turn and so, here I am.
I've not seen my own son in more than a while,
But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her smile.'

Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
The red, white, and blue... An American flag.
'I can live through the cold and the being alone,
Away from my family, my house and my home.
I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,
I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.
I can carry the weight of killing another,
Or lay down my life with my sister and brother
Who stand at the front against any and all,
To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall.'

'So go back inside,' he said, 'harbor no fright,
Your family is waiting and I'll be all right.'
'But isn't there something I can do, at the least,
'Give you money,' I asked, 'or prepare you a feast?

It seems all too little for all that you've done,
For being away from your wife and your son.'
Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
'Just tell us you love us, and never forget.

To fight for our rights back at home while we're gone,
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.
For when we come home, either standing or dead,
To know you remember we fought and we bled
Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
That we mattered to you as you mattered to us.'

I didn't write this - I'm unsure who did, but it's very touching. Remember our soliders everyone in your prayers. God Bless them All!! Merry Christmas ~Elizabeth

Sleep is Important

Yes, the lack of a post for November means that nothing has slowed down. In my defense I tried to find extra time, but, well, I didn't. I'm remodeling my house. It is a summer project that turned into a hurry-up-and-finish-before-Christmas project. We're almost done!! I need a few extra hours in the day. I'd take it out of my sleep, but I only get maybe six, sometimes less, so I'm already exausted. No, sleep is important. So is lunch and breakfast and dinner...

I hope that winter break will give me some quiet time. I hope. I really wanted more progress this autumn, and now it's winter and I'm still behind. I'll find the time somewhere.

Style of Writing

A friend got me thinking - what is my style as a self taught writer?

I love to write sentences that ebb and flow and take the reader on a visual merry-go-round into worlds full of new wonders where the mind can take time to contemplate our existence and the existence of the imaginary. I love to be quick, to the point, in your face. Sometimes, well, not always, but on an occasion, yes, I will purposely slow you down, well, because I want you to pause for a moment to take in what is coming next.

I wasn't taught how to write. I wrote. I grew. My writing grew with me. I think you have to be honest with yourself and be able to throw whatever comes into your mind onto the paper. It takes guts. I think there is something called "over editing". Not all sentences should be perfect. Some aren't right. So there. Deal with it. If I wanted every little thing in my writing to be perfect I would lose what makes my writing a piece of my soul. A portion, if you will.

Where do characters come from? How do they form? If you have an answer, I'd like it. Where do ideas come from? I say God, what say you?

Elizabeth sat down at her computer after a long morning of ringing phones and wedding pictures. Her desk still contains the remnants of post-it notes and telephone numbers. It's easy for her to talk to people on myspace. She can answer their messages in-between phone calls. Today felt more like a Monday to her, maybe it's just the weather, or her lack of sleep. Only a few rain showers, even though she wanted it to pour all day. Elizabeth dreaded the thought of having to waste water on washing her car. She keeps a thin coating of dust all over the exterior.

I can tune everything out in order to write. It's a gift. I just ignore the world and keep going, word after word, page after page. As long as I'm inspired. Lately, I've had writer's block. It's a horrible disease. Good thing it's not contagious.

~Elizabeth