I worked on a new chapter this morning for my novel, or novella, not sure which it’s going to turn out to be. After two and a half years of writing Flourish I thought it was complete this past summer, but here I am doing re-writes, editing and expanding. I actually have an agent reading the first fifty pages. Yes, it’s exciting and scary. Actually, I don’t expect much from it, but it’s a start. Writing and getting published is tough. I’m sure I’ll get loads of rejections before, hopefully, someone accepts the manuscript for publication. When that happens, see I wrote “when”, not “if” – I am determined – well, whenever that happens, I’ll certainly post it here. In the meantime, here’s a synopsis.
Liz Bergen’s husband had walked out, leaving her with a vineyard full of grapes ready to be picked, and she didn’t have a clue how to get the job done. She came up with an idea, sent her kids off to school and set off on a trek that would change her life forever. With the help of local stay-at-home moms, who had no knowledge of winemaking, she traveled the road from single mom to award winning vintner. The women faced many problems over the years. Liz almost lost an arm pressing grapes, women’s lingerie was used in place of oak barrels, red wine refused to turn red, there was another failed marriage and several unfulfilled relationships. Plus, there was the constant issue of Liz having to pay her ex alimony. As grapes grow from tender vines into mature wines, Liz and the women grew and thirty-five years later the cycle continues with the next generation.
The story is based on the real life of the first woman vintner and sole proprietor of the first commercial winery in
. This may sound familiar to my high school friends. Yes, Elaine P. and her vineyard are the inspiration for my novel, or novella, Flourish. Pennsylvania
I do have happy news on the subject of publishing. In January, a short piece I wrote, Musings, will be published in the magazine 201 Family. It’s about a grandmother’s thoughts as she holds her newborn grandson. Here’s an excerpt taken from the middle of the piece.
Glancing around the room she sees diapers and baby wipes, changing pads and burp cloths, baby lotion, soft terry towels with hoods, and foresees jock straps and dirty socks, smelly sneakers, sweaty T shirts and baseball caps casually strewn across the carpeting. She hugs and snuggles him closer, breathing in the pure soapy scent of fragile innocence, and again kisses his warm little head.