Packed'um up, Moved'um out!

Sat, 16 Apr 2011 05:14:00 +0000

If you're wondering where I've been and why the lack of updates, the answer is I've moved! I have a new website and a new blog. Come, catch up and join the fun at http://elliwrites.wordpress.com :) Hope to see you there!

Rescue is Coming

Tue, 11 Jan 2011 17:58:00 +0000

“Elli? Elli, open the door!” Oliver pounded fiercely against the door of the young journalist’s second story apartment. For two weeks she had ignored his calls, and for once he had done nothing to deserve it. If there was one thing Oliver knew best, it was people, and in his heart he knew something was terribly wrong. “Damnit, El…” he muttered. He tested the handle, his heart pounding more when he realized the door was open. Oliver no longer waited for an invitation. He walked right in, green eyes darting for any sign of life in the sparsely furnished apartment.

There, snuggled in the corner of her couch was Elli, nose tucked against curled palms. She looked perfectly at ease, yet Oliver couldn’t shake the feeling that she needed him. He studied the apartment, looking for some sort of clue as to why he felt such panic inside his heart. Then he saw the open journal on the coffee table.

Picking up the leather bound book, he took a seat next to his sleeping friend, and began to read an entry that broke his heart more than he had ever felt before.

“My spirit has fled. To where, I don’t know. Every day seems more trying than the next, and I fight to find reason to keep moving forward. This isn’t me. What happened to the fervent and tenacious Elli Campo? I don’t know what’s become of her.

Death tries to wheedle its way closer to me. I can feel his embrace as he whispers in my ear. ‘I can take away your pain,’ he says, and my heart begins to panic when I realize how tempting those words have become.

Where is the hope I once believed so strongly in? Where are the tenacity and the endurance that got me through much harder times? It seems they have fled too. I feel like a fraud, filled with empty words I no longer believe in.

I am alone, in spite of people’s efforts. Distant friends offer me lines of optimism, but each promise of hope only seems to pull me farther down. I don’t believe them anymore. There is no one here but me. Words over the phone mean nothing when there’s no one by your side.

I made a mistake, and that mistake has left me stranded in a place where life and ambition are absent. No progress is made here. No one amounts to anything in a small town not even worthy of a map. My escape is fruitless.

Death longs to take me, but in my heart I feel it already has. I no longer carry a will to live. I merely exist. Days blend into weeks which fade into months. Tears rock me to sleep each night as I realize I’ve already admitted defeat.

I am defeated, and all I have to blame is me.”

Oliver took a deep, deep breath as he finished reading and wiped several stray tears from his cheeks. Setting the journal down, he wrapped Elli in a blanket and drew her into his arms, stroking her hair softly.

“With everything that’s within me, little lass, I will make it known you’re not alone,” he whispered softly. “There’s so much life still left for you to live. You’ll see… This is not the end. Not yet.”

The Royal Rogue Morphs Into a Trilogy

Thu, 18 Nov 2010 14:54:00 +0000

After The Royal Rogue came to a screeching halt, all I offered was the assurance that the story has not ended. It’s been months with hardly a hint of what’s been going on, and for that, my dear readers, I am truly sorry. But now I think it’s safe to start revealing bits and pieces of what The Royal Rogue has been blossoming into.

This story began nearly ten years ago, starting with a young and spoiled prince named Jaycent and his trusty companion, Diego, as they found within themselves the courage to be heroes. It held a following for a good while, but I never expected it to pick up again. It all happened rather suddenly. A year ago my inbox started receiving notifications saying that my long since dormant story was being added as a ‘favorite’ by online readers.

I was shocked.

That book (originally named Jaycent’s Secret) was written when I was still very much a child, and I hadn’t really touched it since. So I went back and read it to see what all the fuss was about. Instead, all I saw was the creative ramblings of a kid. The story was cute (I guess), but inside I was embarrassed. I knew it could be better.

I let that thought brew in my mind as my email kept receiving ‘favorite' notifications. It didn’t make sense to me. I thought, if people like this silly old story, what could it become if I rewrote it now, as an adult? So began the rewrite of Jaycent’s Secret, aka The Royal Rogue.

I began the revamp last year, but time and time again I found myself in a pickle. When I wrote as a child, I could relate to my characters. But as an adult, they seemed flat, naïve and somewhat foolish. I desired them to be more real, more concrete. And so as I began to write, I let go of trying to stick with the original story and slowly began to reform each character…

Jaycent’s no longer just a spoiled and sheltered prince. I wanted him to be someone readers could be able to understand, perhaps even relate to, so I let him develop a more human element. Now the book begins to reveal the inner workings of a troubled prince. Ill-prepared for the role he was forced to assume and skeptical of his serpent-tongued advisors, he trusts few and confides in no one, leaving him feeling lonely and bitter. His parent’s death still affects him and he longs for his father’s guidance, but he fears to show any sign of vulnerability that could be used against him.

Milo also received a makeover of sorts, though not as drastic as the prince. He still holds the same charm and sense of humor he was notorious for, but I wanted readers to know him as more than just a jealous suitor. I wanted them to see his southern spirit and the contrast between Nevahardans and Sarrokians that caused so much conflict. Jaycent and Milos quarrels spawn from more than just a woman and the color of their skin. They’re cultural and social opposites.

This went on with nearly every character in the book. It was an awkward process that involved a lot of backtracking, rewrites and dead end trails as I attempted to reintroduce myself to each character and their newly developed dispositions.

But as I went through this meticulous and sometimes frustrating process, the story evolved into something more real, more relatable and more alive than ever before.

Right now the story is broken down into three books:

The Gypsy’s Riddle

The Royal Rogue

The Golden One

(All working titles)

Each one will be copywrited and published as a hardcopy as they’re completed. My goal is to have the first book (The Gypsy’s Riddle) published and released by next Christmas. But right now the focus is simply on completing the manuscript.

To keep readers updated on the progress, I’m adding aprogress chart to the Gypsy’s Corner section of www.onelittlelove.net so you can keep up with how things are coming along and how far I am to completing the books. Also, I will post sketches and illustrations from the story throughout the coming months that’ll give you a fun little peak inside some of the chapters.

Thanks again to all who have been incredibly patient with this whole project. Whether you were just a reader or someone who actively commented and gave feedback on the chapters and story, I thank you. You all are truly wonderful. It still amazes me that people read my stories, and actually like them. But it brings me more joy than even I can find the words for. :)

-Liz

Jesus, Jesus by Noah Gunderson

Sun, 07 Nov 2010 15:33:00 +0000

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0H-S82Joaa0

I'm not going to dive into religion, or talk about my views on the whole thing. I just love this song. My friend Gavin first introduced me to it, and I haven't been able to stop playing it ever since. There's something incredibly pure and sincere about his words and the way he sings them. I think we need more room for honesty like this. For conversations like this. And to feel okay to ask these questions.

They're Still Walking

Sun, 07 Nov 2010 15:27:00 +0000

Found this on my desktop this morning. I wrote it over the summer after a conversation I had with a homeless man in a park one evening:

“Save people? You can’t save people. Take a walk around,girl. You listen to some of the stories around here and you’ll want to kill yourself too. You’ll be in the pits, just like the rest of us.”

“With all due respect, sir, I’ve heard them,” she said quietly. “I hear these stories every day. But I choose to believe that maybe, just maybe, by meeting these people where they are I can show them that hope is real. That we can be hope for people when all of theirs seem spent.”

The homeless man looked around at the handful of aching souls scattered on benches throughout the park. “And what about these folk?” he asked. “What hope do you have to offer them?”

“The belief that that better days can still exist.”

“Pah!” the old man snorted. “That’s preposterous. They’ve hit rock bottom. Most of them are addicts or drunkards or criminals. Or all of the above. You truly think they can just get up and start over? They’ve hit the end of their road, woman.”

“But they’re still walking.” The young girl smiled ever so slightly. “Their story’s not over yet.”