Showing posts with label Eileen O'Finlan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Eileen O'Finlan. Show all posts

Thursday, March 7, 2024

Creating a Home Library - A Labor of Love, Part 2 by Eileen O'Finlan

 



In my February 7th post I wrote about how I was turning an unused room in my house into a long-desired home library. Good news - it's finished!

It was indeed a labor of love in more ways than one. I mentioned last month, how much I love being surrounded by my books. The other "love" part of this labor is that the room in question used to be my mom's bedroom. We lived together since shortly before my dad passed away in 1996. About three and a half years ago my mom had to move to a nursing home because of rapidly increasing dementia. She died on December 16, 2024. During the time she was in the nursing home I didn't do much with her room. Mostly, I just kept the door shut because I couldn't bear to look at her empty bedroom. 

Before Mom went to the nursing home, when she was still enough in her right mind, she and I talked about what would become of her room after she passed away. She was open like that. Talking about her own passing didn't bother her. Mostly, she wanted to know that the people she left behind would be alright. During one of those conversations, I broached the idea of turning her bedroom into a home library. At first she didn't say anything and I was worried that she didn't like the idea which was a surprise to me since she loved books and reading almost as much as I do. When I asked if she objected, she said, "No. I think it's a wonderful idea. I was just thinking that I wish I would be here to see it."

So, Mom, this library is in your honor! I truly believe that as I was creating it she was watching over my shoulder and nodding approvingly. If her gentle spirit is a presence in my new library, it will be a blessed place.



                 
    Table for doing research for novels                            Reading nook


   


Mom's shelf with her diploma in elementary education from the University of Vermont, 
her graduation program, and her name plate














Friday, April 7, 2023

Shelf Life by Eileen O'Finlan

 


One way to know if you are a genuine bibliophile (aka bookworm) is by how much you love your bookshelves. This is more important than how many bookshelves you have. That could simply be determined by the amount of space available in your home. Therefore, it may not accurately project the depth of your love for books. It is more about how you feel when you look at the shelves you have. I have been known to spend time gazing lovingly at my shelves of books, taking them in as the things of wonder that they are. A warm, cozy feeling wells up in me as I contemplate my book collections. It's no surprise that I nearly swoon upon entering a library or bookstore. But the bookshelves I can view in the comfort of my own home are the best simply because they are mine. 

I have always dreamt of having a library in my house. Given the number of books I own, I suppose I do have one, but I mean one specific room dedicated to books. As yet, that is not a reality for me. Nonetheless, I take great pleasure in turning my entire house into a library. With the exception of the hallway, there is not a single room in my house that does not contain books. There are even a few shelves on the walls in the kitchen holding stacks of cookbooks. 

Despite the four bookcases in my living room...

     
                            (An antique from my grandmother's home holds non-fiction history books)

(A bargain at a second-hand store holds non-fiction and poetry)

                                                         (An online purchase hold fiction) 

(A rotating bookcase handmade for me by a very dear friend holds biographies)

... the shelves in the front entryway...

      This set of shelves holds a mix of fiction and non-fiction history books)

... the bookcase in my den...

(This one holds the books in use for research on the topic of whatever historical novel I'm writing at any give time.)


... the bookcase on the sunporch, and the five bookcases in my half-finished basement, I still have trouble finding places for all the books I collect so I've had to get creative.

The eight shelves lining either side of the fireplace once held a tea set, framed photos, and an assortment of knick-knacks. Four of those shelves have given up their accoutrement to make way for books.

(Mostly fiction on the shelves; Art & Photography books on one side of the mantel and Irish history on the other)

                                 

I have recently been thinking that I may have to find another spot for the tea set even if it means packing it away. There are too many books waiting for a good home. Many are currently piled in artful stacks around the house.

You may rightly ask if I've read all these books. Alas, I collect them much faster than I can read them. I also donate large amounts of books to the local library once I have finished reading them unless they are likely to assist me in research for a future writing project. This allows others to love them, too, and frees up space for more books. But no matter how full my bookshelves are, I find there's always room for more and even one small space on a shelf calls out to me for a book. This and the swelling of my heart that occurs when I take them all in, tells me that I am, without a doubt, a true bibliophile and proud of it!


                                                   
                       Click here for purchase information








Friday, October 7, 2022

Autumnal Thoughts by Eileen O'Finlan

 

Click here for purchase information

Click here for Eileen O'Finlan's website 

There's something about autumn. It's gorgeous, mysterious, spooky, and magical all at once. It conjures up thoughts of trees ablaze in red, gold, yellow, and orange, of Halloween ghosts and goblins, harvests of apples, pumpkins, and winter squash, of simmering soups and hearty stews, the swish of leaves underfoot, and crisp, tangy air. Yet it has a tinge of sadness as well. The year is dying. That lovely, slightly fruity scent in the air is created by the decay of leaves and vegetation.  For many of us in New England, autumn is bittersweet. It is stunningly beautiful, but also the harbinger of the long, cold winter that's surely on its way.

Getty Images

Autumn is a special time of year for me. Each of its months brings a different emotion. In September, I mourn the loss of summer's warmth and freedom. By October, I've usually made my peace with summer's departure, and I'm ready to embrace autumn in all its beauty and bounty. And in November, I'm consumed with the coming holidays.

The high point in my current work-in-progress takes place in a Vermont October. Working all of that month's enchantments into the story is both challenging and rewarding. Since I am close to that point in the writing now, at least I won't have far to look for inspiration. A glimpse outside my window will do.

Getty Images

Friday, January 7, 2022

Happy New Year! by Eileen O'Finlan

 


I'm sometimes asked why there is no mention of Christmas in either Kelegeen or Erin's Children. The answer is simple. In Kelegeen the characters are too busy trying not to starve to death during Ireland's Great Hunger to celebrate Christmas and in Erin's Children which is set in Massachusetts, the holiday wasn't much celebrated. While the time period for Erin's Children, the 1850s, saw the establishment of Christmas as a holiday in Massachusetts (in 1856) it would still be a while before it got much real attention. Thanksgiving was the really big holiday at the time (you'll find three of them in Erin's Children!) along with George Washington's birthday and the 4th of July. New Year's was also celebrated though not with the same fanfare we associate with the holiday today.

Before 1752 New Years was celebrated on March 25th, the date when the new year started according to the Julian calendar. In colonial times young ladies prepared bowls of wassail and went "wassailing." The word comes from Middle English and means "health to you." The drink consisted of mulled ale or cider and sugar, ginger, cinnamon, and other spices and little bits of toast floating on top. It was also customary to give small gifts on New Years. In the 18th century these gifts were usually oranges decorated with ribbon and spiked with cloves. By the 19th century people began exchanging other gifts, though they were still just small tokens. 

In my current work-in-progress, sixteen year old Jerusha Kendall is given a diary for New Years in 1838. What she writes in it throughout the year piques the interest of Charlotte Lajoie, a folklorist and one of Jerusha's descendants, who uses it to uncover a long-hidden family secret. Thank goodness for New Years presents.

                                     

Sunday, November 7, 2021

Addressing Book Clubs by Eileen O'Finlan

 


Recently, a friend told me that her book club was reading Erin's Children and asked if I would address the group. I told her I would be delighted. So a few weeks ago, I spent a lovely evening with seven women engaged in discussion about the book's themes and characters and the writing and publishing processes. The wine and snacks were an added bonus especially the pumpkin roll and homemade apple crisp. Since I set Erin's Children in Worcester, Massachusetts, a city with which this group was very familiar, all living in or near it, the setting too became a topic of conversation. One of Worcester's historic sections, known as Crown Hill, is featured in the novel as the location where the main characters live and work. One of the book club ladies mentioned that she drove through the Crown Hill area to get a feel for it before coming to the meeting that evening. Another woman brought with her a picture of her grandmother and two aunts who had come to the United States from Ireland much in the way that Meg and Kathleen do in Erin's Children. The way these readers shared their connection with the book was truly touching.

I have given several talks at public venues, all of which I have enjoyed, but I must say that book clubs have a certain charm all their own. For one thing, it is much easier on the author not to have to prepare a long presentation only engaging with the audience during Q&A at the end. Also, book club meetings are often held in someone's home, making the setting much cozier. Settling into a living room chair, making conversation with a group of interested readers is very much like attending an intimate gathering at the home of a friend. It's so much more relaxed than standing at a podium or sitting behind a table while giving a talk to a group seated auditorium style and wondering if their expressions relate to your words or the hard chairs.

Until recently, I thought that my options for addressing book clubs would be few since they would usually have to be local. But the recent COVID-created dependence on Zoom has made me realize that I can address book clubs anywhere. It may not be quite the same as being there in person, but it's not that far off and is a godsend for reaching people at a distance. To that end, I have included a page on my website for book clubs with a link to contact me. I have also created a set of questions for book clubs in pdf form for Kelegeen and Erin's Children. I'm looking forward to more book club gatherings far and wide.

Tuesday, September 7, 2021

Brand New Website by Eileen O'Finlan

 

 

I knew the time to renew my contract with the company that built and maintains my website was coming up and I was dreading it. The annula fee was exhorbitant. Besides that, I wanted a new look, something that felt more me. Don Lutz, the husband of my friend and fellow writer, Jane Willan, had built a beautiful author website for Jane so I asked him how much he would charge to build one for me. His answer - ice cream. That was a fee I could afford.

Don and I met to discuss what I was looking for, what feel I wanted, how I envisioned presenting my author brand. I gave him a quart of chocolate ice cream. He built a basic site. We met again for a training session in which he taught me how to design the pages, create links, upload pictures, and whatever else I thought I might do on the site. He also linked the sign up box for my newsletter to my email marketing platform creating a smooth transition and worked with my previous site host to get my domain name transfered to me. I gave him another quart of chocolate and a quart of black raspberry.

I now have a website I love, one that I feel reflects me and my brand perfectly. I have one more meeting with Don coming up so he can help figure out how to design the rest of the pages I want to add. I will bring more ice cream. 

This, by the way, isn't just any ice cream. For years I have purchased my milk from a local dairy farm. They make other dairy products as well. Their ice cream is beyond belief. Hancock Dairy Farm uses primarily Ayershire cows which give the creamiest milk so everything they make from it is utterly (udderly??) delicious! Don's reaction to his first taste of their chocolate ice cream was, "Now this is what ice cream is supposed to taste like!" Once a week during the season, I stop on my way home from work at the farmer's market to pick up my milk which allows me to avoid the delivery charge I pay during the rest of the year. At the same time, I pick up Don's ice cream (and maybe some for myself). Hmmm...if they have it, perhaps I'll pick up some of their amazing chocolate cheese for Don to go with his ice cream. Maybe some for me, too.

Check out my new website here!

The ice cream-making cows at Hancock Dairy Farm 
in Barre, Massachusetts



Sunday, March 7, 2021

Spring and Saint Patrick's Day!

 


Winters in New England are cold, snowy, and long. So when spring shows signs of arriving some of us New Englanders get positively giddy. I am one such New Englander. While the Vernal Equinox isn't until March 20th, meteorologica spring started on March 1st and that's good enough for me. On March 1st anything in my house that has the feel of winter has been put away and the spring decor appears.

Because New England likes to start winter early and hang on to it as long as it can, I was rather confused as a child about certain holidays. My family went to my maternal grandparents' home in Bennington, Vermont for Thanksgiving. It was cold and there was usually snow on the ground. According to the calendar it was still autumn, but it sure looked and felt like winter. We went to my paternal grandparents' home in Vergennes, Vermont every Easter. It was spring, but it was cold and there was snow on the ground. Yup, to this little kid, both of those holidays occured in the winter.

However, in between came something even more confusing - Saint Patrick's Day. We didn't go anywhere, but my half-Irish mother, who decorated the house for every holiday (and I mean EVERY holiday), was sure to have plenty of images of the green fields of Ireland, lads and lasses in traditional dress dancing jigs, and shamrocks all over the house. It may not have looked like spring outside, but it certainly looked like it inside.

To this day, I think of Saint Patrick's Day as being in the spring. According to the calendar it's at the very end of the winter, but I'm going with meteoroligical spring. All that green can't be winter!

If you're in the mood for something Irish check out my books: Kelegeen is set in Ireland in the 1840s during the Great Hunger (aka Irish Potato Famine). The sequel, Erin's Children, set in the 1850s follows the lives of Irish immigrants who settled in Worcester, Massachusetts.

         Erin Go Bragh and happy Saint Patrick's Day! 






Saturday, February 6, 2021

Valentines of the Past by Eileen O'Finlan

 


Have you ever wondered how Valentine's Day got started? First of all, the full name of the holiday is Saint Valentine's Day, but unlike Patrick, the 'Saint' part is usually dropped, possibly due to the fact that it doesn't have much to do with the real Saint Valentine, a late third century Christian martyr. He was beheaded on February 14th and that is his feast day according to the Church calendar. There are several legends about Saint Valentine which purport to explain his attachment to the holiday that bears his name, but they are most likely apochryphal. Nonetheless, they are probably the reason the holiday is named for him.

Valentine's Day seems to have been first mentioned in the Middle Ages in the writings of Chaucer, possibly the first 'love poet', particularly in his poem, The Parliment of Fowls, where he indicates that Saint Valentine's Day is an annual occurrence as a day for birds to choose their mates. Some scholars believe that Chaucer was the originator of Valentine's Day being a day of romance. By referring to Valentine's Day in poems suggestive of courtly love and associating it with nature, romance, and lovebirds, Chaucer helped to create the notion of Valentine's Day as a day set aside to celebrate romantic love.

Not long after publication of The Parliment of Fowls, other poets began referencing Valentine's Day in their work. John Lydgate, a monk and poet who was a contemporary of Chaucer and friend of his son, was likely the first person to use the word 'valentine' to designate a type of poem. The variety of uses for the word 'valentine' continues today in that a valentine can be a card (I received a valentine), a poem (I wrote a valentine), or a person (Be my valentine).

Frenchman, Charles d'Orleans (Charles , Duke of Orleans) is reputed to have been the first to send a love poem or letter to someone in observation of Valentine's Day in 1416, calling his wife, Bonne d'Armagnac "my very gentle valentine." He was imprisoned after having been captured by the British in the Hundred Years War at the time. His captor was married to Chaucer's granddaughter and he was known to have read Chaucer during his captivity.

Women sent valentine's in the Middle Ages, too. The first known English language valentine was written in 1477 by Margery Brews to John Paston of Norfolk England. In it she addressed John as "my right well-beloved Valentine." Not long after, the couple were married.

Because Chaucer and others connected Saint Valentine's feast day with the mating of birds and romance among people, many tried to find connections between the saint and romantic love, hence the legends such as Saint Valentine performing secret Christian weddings during a time of persecutions throughout the Roman Empire. However, these legends are most likely false.

As time went on the popularity of Valentine's Day waxed and waned. During times of popularity over the following centuries, it became a day for gift giving, banquets, and parties among the aristocracy and rituals involving matchmaking and divination of future mates among other classes. But no matter what other traditions grew up around it, the act of exchanging written sentiments of love and affection remained central, evolving from hand-written verses to homemade cards to commercially made cards. The giving of flowers and candy soon followed.

In America, the popularity of Valentine's Day soared in the 1840s. Previously, it was generally known as a European custom not much recognized in the States. The holiday's new-found popularity stemmed from the commercially produced Valentine's Day cards made in England beginning in the 1820s. Over the next few decades Valentine's Day cards would become a craze in England and by the 1840s that craze had migrated to America with 15,000 cards exchanged in New York in 1843, rising to as many as 30,000 by 1847. Esther Howland of Worcester, Massachusetts, aka The Mother of the American Valentine, produced some of the first elaborate valentines in 1848 and founded the New England Valentine Company. 



While the giving of Valentine's Day cards is central to the holiday and still observed today, it was done a bit differently in mid-19th century America. For one thing, a reply was expected. If a gentleman sent a card asking a lady to be his valentine, she was obliged to respond yes or no. As the transmission of valentines could take days, this ritual extended for over a week. Besides cards, printers sold pamphlets, first in England and later in America, called "Valentine Writers." These pamphlets offered various poems suitable for use by those not gifted in crafting poetry. Some pamphlets offered possible responses, as well. 

The recipient of a 19th century valentine did not always know from whom it came. Often they were sent anonymously. For many, it was exciting to know they had a secret admirer. However, not every valentine held sentiments of affection. Some were funny, satirical, or downright rude in their texts and/or illustrations. A few were even sexually suggestive.




The mid-19th century was the start of the movement for women's rights. Many who were opposed, took Valentine's Day as an opportunity to reprove women who sought equal rights with men. Often these discourteous cards ended with lines such as "You will never be my Valentine." One could imagine the recipient's response being something like, "Thank goodness for that!"

When the Valentine card craze was hitting America, stationers and printers took advantage of it by advertising heavily in newspapers, creating elaborate window displays, and even sponsoring Valentine-themed activities within their shops. The appeal took off and moved from being a ritual between lovers or would-be lovers to include family and friends, especially children. Thus was born the commercialization of Valentine's Day. In fact, the success of printed, commercially made Valentine's Day cards gave rise to the greeting card business as a whole, with Christmas cards following next then cards for all other occassions. By the 1920s greeting cards of all types were common.

As we know, giving cards, flowers, candy, and other gifts on Valentine's Day is alive and well today. Like nearly every holiday, the rituals associated with it have evolved over time and will probably continue to. But however you celebrate it, I wish you all a happy Valentine's Day!





Information for this post was gleaned from America's Favorite Holidays: Candid Stories by Bruce David Forbes









Wednesday, January 6, 2021

Sleigh Ride! by Eileen O'Finlan

 


I can't believe I've lived in New England all my life and I've never been on a sleigh ride. Well, it will have to go on my bucket list. Especially after the fun my characters, Meg, Kathleen, and Nuala had when they indulged in a sleigh ride. Meg, Kathleen, and Nuala are domestic servants in Worcester, Massachusetts in the 1850s. Irish immigrants, they all came from the horrible starvation of An Gorta Mor, the Great Hunger. They were lucky to survive. But now they have new lives in America. It's not all fun. They work hard sun-up to sun-down and then some. But unlike their lives in Ireland, they are able to earn good enough livings to send money back to their families, save for their futures, and partake of an occasional indulgence. Usually it involves clothing that mimics that of their employers. But on a day in February they decide to find out why the children of their employers are so fond of sleigh rides and pool their money to hire a sleigh and driver for themselves. Here's a peek at what happens:

Blankets and foot warmers in hand, the three bounded out the door. Two large chestnut horses trotted up the street, stopping in front of the house. The sleigh driver was the same Irishman who had taken the Claprood girls and their cousins for a ride.

“Where to?” he asked, jumping down to assist them into the sleigh.

“Anywhere you like,” Nuala told him. “We're out for enjoyment. It doesn't matter where we go.”

A flicker of recognition showed on his face as Nuala spoke, her brogue giving her away. “You lasses are the helps?”

“Aye,” said Nuala, “but today we're your passengers.”

Looking at Meg, he furrowed his brow. “Didn't I see you at the Claproods'?”

“You did. I work for them.”

A broad grin spread across his face. “This is a grand thing indeed!”

“What do you mean?” Kathleen asked.

“'Tis the first time I've driven Irish lasses. It's always Yanks that hire me. We're every bit as good as they are even if they don't know it, aye? One day we'll be as successful as them. Then you'll ride in sleighs and carriages anytime you want.”

They all giggled at the thought. Meg wondered if it could really be possible.

“What's your name?” Nuala asked.

“Seamus O'Herilhy, at your service, m'ladies,” he said, with a sweeping bow that from most people would have seemed mocking, but from their countryman held an air of genuine respect.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Seamus O'Herilhy,” Nuala responded. “I'm Nuala O'Flaherty, and these are my friends, Meg and Kathleen O'Connor.”

“A pleasure it is,” he said with a smile before climbing onto the driver's box. With a snap of the whip, the horses were in motion.

For the next two hours they traversed the hills and valleys of Worcester. It was obvious that Seamus knew the city well. They headed northwest to the Tatnuck section. Filled with meadows, pastures, and farmland, Tatnuck appeared like a fairyland. Last night's snowfall covered the landscape like a pristine white cape with a million glistening diamonds. Only where farmers had gone about their chores was the seamless white garment rent by plodding footprints.

Wind whipped their faces as the sleigh sped along, the horses picking up speed in the open fields. Meg gazed wide-eyed at the world of white domed by a clear blue sky. The easy glide of the runners with their accompanying whoosh made her grin so hard it hurt. She'd never before felt such exhilaration.
Nuala nudged her. “Aye, but this is exciting!” she exclaimed.

Meg nodded, the bracing air stealing her breath. She glanced at Kathleen. She, too, was grinning as she peered first one direction then another. The big draft horses kicked up sprays of snow as they ad-vanced, their bells resounding in the brisk air. The sleigh slowed as they crested a hill, then sped up again as it raced down the other side. The friends screamed with delight, falling into a fit of laughter upon reaching the bottom.

Public Domain picture


Sunday, December 6, 2020

Erin's Children Now Available!

 


I am very excited to announce that my new novel, Erin's Children, the sequel to Kelegeen was released by BWL Publishing, Inc. on December 1, 2020! 

Erin's Children picks up three years after the end of Kelegeen. Meg has arrived in America, found employment as a domestic servant in Worcester, Massachusetts, regularly sends life-saving money back to her family in Ireland, and saved enough to buy passage for her sister, Kathleen.

Sounds like everything is going just fine, doesn't it? Not quite.

Meg and Rory married just before she sailed for America. They had planned to wed anyway and thought it safer for Meg to arrive in a strange country as a married woman. Wrong! It turns out that a domestic servant, the best job for a female Irish immigrant, must live in with the family she serves. There's no room for a husband and the children who will undoubtedly soon follow. 'No Irish Need Apply' signs among the help wanted ads abound making it difficult for Irish men to find work. When they do, it pays little forcing them and their families to live in squalid housing tenements, if they're lucky. Meeting the rent is hard enough, but they still have to eat.

Meg loves and misses Rory. She came to America with the plan that he would join her and they would make a life together. Used to a one-room, nearly bare cottage, and a diet almost soley made up of potatoes (before the blight left them with nothing), Meg shouldn't mind making the best of living in a tenement. That's what she believed upon her arrival.

But that was before she moved in with the Claproods in their Grecian style home in the up-and-coming neighborhood of Crown Hill. A beautiful house, a room to herself, three good meals a day, money enough to send home with extra to save and a little more to buy clothes as nice as those of her employers - it's all become the norm now. How can she give it up? But how can she give up Rory?

While Meg struggles with her internal conflict, her sister, Kathleen, faces the daily invective of the Pratts, particularly Mrs. Pratt and her eldest son, Lemuel. Mrs. Pratt is suspicious, bigoted, and impossible to please. Lemuel seems downright dangerous. The only bright spot is Clara Pratt, the sole daughter of the family. A bright, friendly, but lonely girl, she befriends Kathleen much to her mother's dismay. Eventually Clara is all that holds Kathleen to the Pratts until she is finally forced from the home. Where she goes from there is the start of an adventure she could never have imagined.

Surrounding everyone is the tumult caused by the fight over slavery, the rise of the nativist, anti-immigrant, anti-Catholic Know Nothing political party, and the ever-present specter of a looming civil war.

Meg, Kathleen, and the other Irish immigrants must navigate all these obstacles in a land very different from their own while trying to keep their personal lives together even as their new country seems about to be torn to pieces. They will need all of their resiliance, faith, and mutual support to make it.

To celebrate the release of Erin's Children, I invite you all to join me for my blog tour beginning today. Click here for a list of blog sites where Erin's Children will be featured over the next ten days with spotlights, interviews, reviews, and guest blog posts as well as a chance to win free copies of Erin's Children!




Thursday, August 6, 2020

Clearly Working by Eileen O'Finlan



My friend and fellow author, Jane Willan, has been renting office space at a place called Clearly Coworking to get away from all distractions so she could finish her lastest cozy mystery. Clearly Coworking offers multiple shared desk space as well as private offices and conference rooms. Mostly rented by people who would otherwise work from home, but who want to get away from distractions, it's a perfect space for professionals who need an office away from home. As it turns out, it's also a great place for writers to find a place of their own.

Jane became so enamored of the place that she got me a day pass, so I spent one Friday with her. It's only a few minutes from my house so I loved the convenience of it. When she told me the address, I also realized that it was formerly a funeral home so, of course I had to ask if it was haunted. Apparently, not. Oh well.


Interior of Clearly Coworking in Worcester, Massachusetts


We had the place mostly to ourselves as Covid has returned most of the renters to their homes. In fact, so many have pulled out that the owner has had to sell. It closed for good as Clearly Coworking on July 31st. Because it was closing, the owner generously allowed Jane to invite me to come write with her every day of the final week of July for free. It was fantastic! We spent the first part of the day writing, then around 2:00 we'd email what we'd written to each other. After reading, we'd go into one of the small conference rooms and critique each other's work. Lunch was another fun part of the day as we spent it chatting about various aspects of writing, marketing, and publishing. We also helped each other work out unruly plot lines or come up with that one missing piece that would make the story work.

I was there just long enough to fall in love with the place as well as the concept. With a full-time job, renting office space is neither affordable nor sensible for me since I wouldn't get much time to use it. However, I did come to find out a couple of very important facts:
 
1.) I could easily spend eight hours a day, every day writing and be quite happy. I am more convinced than ever that writing is my calling and that working towards becoming a full-time writer is my main goal.

2.) Having another writer as critique partner and brainstorming mate is immensely helpful.


I had already sensed both of those things to be true, but this experience cemented them for me.

Now that Clearly Coworking has closed, what will we do? Well, Jane has found another place in downtown Worcester called Idealab. She's already secured her spot. As for me, I decided to make my den/guest room into a home office/writing room. It took nearly two full days to get it set up to my liking, but now that it's done, I am enjoying the heck out of it. I used to write where ever I found a spot to set up my laptop. Now that I have a dedicated space, I've got that "room of one's own" feel and I am loving it.




As for mutual critiquing and brainstorming, Jane and I continuing to email our work to each other and meet on Zoom. Once the pandemic is finally a memory, we'll get together in person often for the same purposes. Best of all, we'll be able to reschedule the half vacation - half writing retreat trip to Vermont we were planning for this summer. Only the end of COVID-19 will dictate when that will happen, but when it does, I'll be sure to chronicle it in this blog.

Tuesday, July 7, 2020

First Draft Completed! by Eileen O'Finlan


After more than a year of research and writing, I've finally completed a first draft of Erin's Children! I am so happy with how this story came out and can't wait to share it with readers. 
Of course, a first draft is just that – a FIRST draft. Now I'm on to editing and revising, painstakingly looking for all the grammatical and typographical errors, making sure the story line never went astray, and that characters I was just getting to know when I first began didn't suddenly act out of character in later chapters. Flow and continuity, word choice, story and character arcs – all these things must be running smoothly throughout the entire story. The purpose of the editing and revision phase of novel writing is to make sure they do.
Still, having an entire first draft completed is a huge relief despite all the work yet to come. Two of the most gratifying words an author can type are “The End.” The only better two words, at least in this author's opinion, are “Chapter One.”

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