From the soul backed to the precipice of a life never changing,
Through the crest of an almond shape and cascading over an apple fullness,
Fall the tiny tributes of hopelessness;
Until she is offered
Tulips for her tears.
Jan 15, 2018
Jan 15, 2018 at 2:53 AM UTC
From the soul backed to the precipice of a life never changing,
Through the crest of an almond shape and cascading over an apple fullness,
Fall the tiny tributes of hopelessness;
Until she is offered
Tulips for her tears.
I have been working on a romance novel, which was going to be heavily focussed on a location, as was Casablanca or Streetcar name Desire. I decided to focuss the romance more on the characters. In delving into the creative process I discovered that a passion for love does not make them weak or sappy. It makes them human.
I am considering the above brief poem as a blurb for the back cover.
My business model is to have five novel length pieces off work before publication or agent submission.
Typically, I write suspense or horror. What could be more suspensful or terrifying than waiting for love or fear of living without it, or how to live once it has found you at long last.
