Elisabeth Barrett's Blog, page 13

The Road to Star Harbor

I'm guest-blogging today over at Romance @ Random  today to talk about my road to publication. 

As some of you may know, I sold the first two books in my Star Harbor series a few months ago.   Like many debut authors, I was unsure of when I should let people know the good news.  When the offer came in?  When the contract was in negotiations?  When the deal was announced in Publisher's Marketplace?  When I signed the contract?  When the publishing house executed the final copy of the contract?  It was dizzying (and to be honest, I'm still not clear on when the "tell" is supposed to happen).

I settled for telling folks when the deal was announced.  After all, at that point it was public, right?  Well, I just received the executed copy of the contract yesterday afternoon, and ladies and gentlemen, it is, as they say, "a done deal," so I can shout it from the rafters!  I sold!

The first book, Deep Autumn Heat, is due out in July 2012, and is the story of devilishly sexy Sebastian Grayson, a worldly master chef who finds himself back in his hometown of Star Harbor, Massachusetts, and in a battle of wits and words with one luscious diner owner, Lexie Meyers.  Spunky Lexie is not about to fall for this bad boy's charms, especially when she has a new catering business to get up and running.  Sparks fly in more than just the kitchen when these two come together!  

The second book, Blaze of Winter, will be published in September 2012.  Roguish mastermind Theodore Grayson (Seb's twin), best-selling author of swashbuckling naval tales, has returned to Star Harbor to get inspiration for his latest project.  He finds it in the form of Avery Newbridge, a gentle, caring, and damaged woman, who is biding her time in the little town, taking care of her aunt and figuring out whether she wants to return to her social work practice.  Avery initially wants nothing to do with Theo, but the man is simply impossible to resist.  

Although the love stories take center stage in my books, Star Harbor itself is a strong supporting player.  Anyone who's ever lived in (or even visited) a small New England town knows how tightly-knit the community is, and Star Harbor is no exception.  The next two books in the Star Harbor series are in the works, so stay tuned for news about them soon!

I'd love it if you joined me over at Romance @ Random to celebrate my first guest-blogging post!

Preserves, dried fruit and candied orange peel

I've been struggling lately, trying to reconcile my absolute love of all things fruity with the tremendous amount of sugar contained in most of what I crave.  Sometimes I want a perfectly ripe peach, juice dripping down my chin as I eat it over the kitchen sink.  Or a crisp, tart apple, fresh from the orchard and tangy on my tongue.  When I was pregnant with my second son, I craved oranges.  I was so obsessed with them, I'd have vivid dreams about them at night, and spent most of my waking hours trying to figure out how I could (a) get more of them and (b) how many I could eat before I made myself sick.  You can imagine how my orange-dreams cut into my productivity. 

But unfortunately, my desire for fresh fruit is never as strong as my absolute lust for the adulterated stuff.  Jams, preserves, jellies, sauces, dried fruits, candied fruits, and any kind of paste - especially quince - just does it for me.  I'm one of those people who goes to fairs and farmer's markets and seeks out the homemade preserves.  I'll order a cheese plate just to get the fig loaf or the membrillo that accompanies the cheese.  One of the best wedding take-aways I've ever received was two jars of freshly-canned fruit preserves made by the bride's mom (thanks, mom of http://mbsartofcooking.blogspot.com!).  Stunning blueberry-raspberry stuff.  I felt guilty hoarding it instead of sharing it with my kids.

A friend who knows of my proclivities recently gave me a chocolate bar with candied orange peel in it, and when she inquired as to whether I specifically liked candied orange peel, I replied: "What's not to like?  It's bitter and sweet all at once – like the best parts of the orange in one little bite."  She laughed and told me I'd hit the nail on the head. 

So what is it about the stuff that I adore?  I think it's the concentrated essence of what makes the fruit taste like the fruit.   And I can't discount the zing of utter sweetness – like a fruity punch in the gut.   In my mind, a fresh apricot tastes like an apricot.  But a spoonful of good apricot jam tastes like a hundred apricots all at once. 

So of course, when I go apple picking next weekend, I can guarantee I'll be making many batches of apple sauce with the bounty I bring home.  And some cakes, pies, and muffins for good measure, too. 

What do you say?  Fresh fruit or not?

Bedtime – First Write Campaign Challenge

The Challenge:

Write a short story/flash fiction story in 200 words or less, excluding the title. It can be in any format, including a poem. Begin the story with the words, "The door swung open" These four words will be included in the word count.

If you want to give yourself an added challenge (optional), use the same beginning words and end with the words: "the door swung shut." (also included in the word count)

For those who want an even greater challenge, make your story 200 words EXACTLY!

Notes:

My entry for the First Campaigner Challenge is below.  I decided to go all-out, and follow the directions to a tee.  I included both the four opening words ("the door swung open") and the four closing words suggested ("the door swung shut"), and my entry is exactly 200 words.  I thought seriously about writing in the first person, simply because I never do when I'm writing fiction, but decided to keep it in third.  I also decided not to name the person in whose point of view the story is written, preferring to think of her as "Mother."  I chose this topic because my stories are all romances, and although I write frequently about family, despite being a mother of three, I have not (to date) written about children in my books.  Enjoy!

My entry:

Bedtime

The door swung open and she stepped through.  It was eight o'clock – long past her bedtime – but Emma was awake, sitting up in bed.  Even in the dim light, her perfect features were evident.   A beautiful little rosebud mouth and a tiny nose, a miniature of her father's – God rest his soul – topped with huge dark eyes.  Emma gave her a calm, even look. 

"Mama," Emma said.  It was the sweetest word she'd ever heard.  The sweetest, and the saddest.  She'd never say "Dada."  She'd never know him.   

"Shh, baby," she said, crossing the room to sit at the edge of the bed.  With work-roughened hands she gently stroked her daughter's downy hair.  Though she'd surely have lush, thick hair when she grew older, for now, the soft, wispy strands seemed to suit Emma's angelic face.  Pulling her daughter close, she let her nestle her face in her chest.  They'd had a long, happy day together, playing in the park and picking pansies in the garden.

"Mama's bed."  The little girl voice was muffled and soft, but firm.  Her heart swelled and she carefully picked up her little daughter.  As she left the room, the door swung shut.

Autumn on the Wind, Change in the Air

I've been feeling unsettled as of late, and I think it has something to do with autumn being on the horizon.  Usually, I'm pretty grounded in the present.  I know exactly what I have to accomplish week-to-week and day-to-day.  I am the master scheduler for our family of five – no small challenge in itself, and more often than not, I have things well under control. 

But in the past week or so, I haven't been focused on the present.  I've been focused on the future.  Part of that is because I love the upcoming season – autumn.  Apple picking.  Fall festivals.  Hayrides.  Pumpkin carving.  And I just can't wait to get started.  The weather isn't helping, either.  Crisp and cool, it's just begun to feel like fall in Northern California.  I love it, but it's making me antsy for what's coming ahead. 

As August comes to a close and September begins, I've been thinking about how much I miss New England.  It's no surprise – my first series is set on Cape Cod (where I used to live and work), and I'm just finishing up my second book under contract.  It's fulfilling, exciting writing, and believe me, I'm enjoying every minute of it.  So why am I so eager to move on?

I think the key for me is the change.  I'm restless.  I want to do something.  Make something.  Create something.  Every day is a fresh opportunity for me to do that and I'm trying to make the most of it.  So as one project is coming to an end, I'm about to begin a new one – finishing up the first book in my second series, also set in New England.  It's an exciting time of year.  The best time of year.

What's your favorite season?  Why do you love it so much?

A Campaign!

Confession:  This isn't my first blog. 

For a year or so I kept a food blog (which my darling husband made me keep completely anonymous in case of recrimination from some angry restaurant owner).  I really enjoyed it, but it was just for me.  Honestly, I didn't care if people read it or not.  My reviews and musings read more like a love letter to food than a blog.  It wasn't written to anyone except the food, and as we all know, food can't respond.

Now that I've written several novels slated to be published (!) in 2012, I realize that much of what I write from now on might be of interest to other people.  Not everyone will be interested in my writing, of course, but someone's got to care about my life/work/family ramblings, right?  And now that I'm writing for others, instead of just for myself, I realize that I have no idea how to go about doing this.  My novels - small-town romances set in New England – at first, were just for me, too.  But now that they're going out into the world where (hopefully) lots of people will read them, they're for others.

Writing confessional-type blogs isn't my thing.  Nor is oversharing or ranting.  And I don't want to write about writing.  In a way, that seems too meta, and it's not something I really think about all the time.  When I'm not writing, I'm teaching or spending time with my family or baking or doing something other than thinking about craft.  So I thought why not figure out what and how other bloggers are writing about and why.

In order to do this, I'm going to join up with Rachael Harrie's Writers' Platform-Building Campaign.  I've never tried anything like this before, but I hope to accomplish a few things:

(1) Get connected with people in the writing community

(2) Figure out what kind of tone I want to set for my own, personal blog

The Campaign only runs from August 22 through October 31st, so I figure it's a good chunk of time in which I can get a good feel for what's out there.  If this sounds interesting to you, I encourage you to join up as well.  It sounds like a fascinating way to meet similarly-minded folks.

Remembrance of Things Past

Late summer in Northern California.  The cool, misty mornings.  The unbearably bright, hot sunny days.  The break in the heat in early evenings.  And then, dusk, edging slowly, slowly into night, growing ever cooler until the last glimmers of light are gone and the moon rises high in the sky.

Today was such a day. 

Such a gorgeous, glorious day.  I spent it outside with my family, basking in the sunshine.  Then, later, I used the zucchinis from my friend's garden to make zucchini bread.  Moist, cinnamony and delightfully chewy, it filled the house with an incredible aroma.  I had a Proustian moment.  Flash back twenty years:  me pulling up zucchini from our backyard garden as long as my forearm and twice as thick – monsters that had been allowed to grow unchecked.  The look of surprise on my mom's face when I brought them into the house that quickly morphed into one of happiness, as she realized the extent of the bounty.  The loaves and loaves of bread she baked, and the delicious smell – summer's almost over.  Fall is on the wind.

I can almost taste it.

A New Blog, Full of Promise

As a writer, nothing excites me more than a blank page.  There is so much potential to shape a view, a world, a life.  It can be hugely rewarding, yet hugely frustrating when the words don't come out the way I want.  But that's the beauty of language – it can be twisted and molded until I have written exactly what I mean.  Language is a puzzle, just waiting for me to put the pieces into place.

As a reader, I want love, action, longing, romance and soul-searching wrapped up in beautifully crafted prose.  Nothing gives me greater pleasure than getting lost in a world, a story or a relationship.

Welcome to my world.  I can't wait to share my journey with you.