Work as in plural form.
Scattered thoughts jotted in stolen moments or demanded minutes result in binders, notebooks and scribbles on pieces of paper gathered and stored for later.
I know I have to be more determined to finish what I begin but between the many and I do mean the very many interruptions of life, I find myself always back at the beginning.
I opened the Writer’s Compass that I purchased at the Writers of Kern Workshop, and my eyes were drawn to a timeline type of drawing somewhere among the pages and after a quick read, I was inspired, which happens often. I began writing on sheets of white printer paper that I won at the writer’s workshop, to create character sketches of the characters of a novel I began over three years ago or is it more like four now? Four it is. I have needed this bit of inspiration as a jump off point in the already decided goal to be published.
Now speaking of being published, here is my guilty admission in this post. I have always been secretly a book snob of sorts. There I said it and believe me I am not proud of it. In particular if I saw (please don’t hate me) a woman reading a particular book by a certain publisher I would judge very quickly the state of her life and mind. That is harsh, can you guess of which books I refer to? But God does have a sense of humor and a way of humbling me so no one else has to be ready to give me a what for in the future. Because I am redrafting and altering three stories/novels I started a long, long time ago, when I was a bit of a book snob (which I had no right to be; considering my unabashed admiration for Stephen King), for submission to Love Inspired Suspense/ Harlequin Publishing. I think I have a stomach ache from divulging my secret.
That brings me to a much debated (in my own mind anyway), the need verse desire to use a pen name. I realize the obscurity of my name and the difficulty it presents to someone who is hearing it for the first time. You can imagine how fun it was growing up in a small farming community (Shafter Ca), to have a name as unique as Iola. Even the teacher’s stammered over it, like it must have been a misprint. So again I am thinking and of course over thinking the idea of using a pen name. Here is the one that I keep coming back to.
(Howard is my Great Grandfather’s last name. He is also the person who encouraged me to read with the statement that I should get a good education, cause no man would ever want to marry me, I was just too sickly. Faye is my middle name and also my Grandmother’s who I am named after, add the th and we now have Fayeth (faith) which has been my saving grace.
So what do you readers think? To pen or not to pen that is the question.
Here is a smattering of a poem that I wrote while sitting in my husbands hospital room after he had his second surgery on his right hip and femur where they inserted a titanium rod. It was late and he was in so much pain that I was writing by the light of my lap top so that I wouldn’t wake him from his drug induced sleep.
I’ve Been Here Again~
River bends twists and turns,
From snowy mounds,
Life pours down,
On without a breath,
Leaving empty lives,
Abandoned on the banks of time,
Down the hill,
Grasping life that is rushing fast,
Knowing nothing lasts.