#WhyIWrite: Book 2 & 3 by Author Denise N. Fyffe

I just watched a video by renowned author J.K. Rowling, and I believe that she gets what many authors like myself are going through.

Her Harvard Commencement speech was about failure and I could tell that she lived exactly what I am now going through. To have that  similarity is a great motivator. As such, it has inspired me to share 30 posts about the 30 books, which I have published.

I say published, because I have written nearly twice as many, and they are sitting on my hard drive gathering virtual dust.

*****

You got to understand, poetry was my niche. After writing over 500 poems, my mind was trained on that type of writing. So naturally, my second book was a poetry book. And the third and the fourth and the fifth… Ok, ok you get the drift.

But I had to tone it down. People were looking at me funny, like they couldn’t believe i wrote those naughty poems.

Yes i poured every aggravated unrequited love seed into them poems. It didn’t hurt that i had an imagination of a thespian. If only i could paint.

But that second book, Jamaican Pebbles, it was a way for me to showcase my versatility while talking about my island home and other topics.

It was for this book that I started to make a concerted effort to tackle bookcover design. I was broke, had a diploma in IT and the will to learn. The two new skills acquired; book production and book cover design.

I also did the book using backgrounds in Powerpoint. As I said, I was learning and decided to be a little adventurous. So Jamaican Pebbles, had full graphics and Jamaican Pebbles: The Pocketbook did not. This allowed for people to access a cheaper version of the book.

I don’t think I was a master, but I was willing to learn and grow, not only as an author, but as a self publisher.

Poetic words that express a range of experiences; including general life events, love, the spiritual and social issues. Jamaican Pebbles also contributes snippets or gems of wisdom that are true to guiding anyone through life.

Enjoy this excerpt from the book:

The White Fairy

Howling currents from hell
Ravage her thin frame
As she soldiers on through the arctic snow;

She retreats deeper within herself,
Behind the mental barricades,
That would protect her
From this torturous prison;

Though she doubts…

The savage beasts keeps plummeting her back,

Like a slave under the lashes of cat-o-nine tails;
She sees the white fairy surface to meet her face and suddenly she is thick in it;
Struggling back to her weary knees,
She tracks on;

Like a fissure in the Mississippi dam,
She surrenders to the tormenting thoughts of despair creeping in her brain
Like localized parasitic protoplasmic Amoeba;

Sobbing uncontrollably now,
She looks up and glimpses a blue light on the horizon;
She starts running
As if the hyenas of Hades were on her heels
Racing to hope;

She blinks,
Her vision blurry
Seeing unfamiliar faces;
“Emme, you’re awake….”
Shouts echo down the hall,
Sounding in her head,
Like a church bell on speed.

A shadowy shape in a glowing crisp garb enters and speaks,
“Finally young lady, you’ve awaken from your coma.”
Emme blinks.

Jamaican Pebbles by Denise N. Fyffe

My books can be found at a number of online websites, including:

Bookworld.com.auSmashwords.comBarnes and Noble, Rakuten.co.jpLulu.comAmazon.com – United States, Amazon.co.uk – UK, Amazon.ca – Canada, Amazon.co.jp – Japan, Amazon.it – Italy, Amazon.es – Spain, Amazon.fr – France, Amazon.at – Austria, Amazon.de – Germany, Scribd , Bookworld , Easons , Kobo, The Hive Network iBooks, Nook, IBookstore, Baker & Taylor, Copia, Gardners, eSentral, PagePusher and Bookophilia bookstore in Kingston, Jamaica.

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One comment

  1. Reblogged this on THE ISLAND JOURNAL and commented:

    You got to understand, poetry was my niche. After writing over 500 poems, my mind was trained on that type of writing. So naturally, my second book was a poetry book. And the third and the fourth and the fifth… Ok, ok you get the drift.

    But I had to tone it down. People were looking at me funny, like they couldn’t believe i wrote those naughty poems.

    Yes i poured every aggravated unrequited love seed into them poems. It didn’t hurt that i had an imagination of a thespian. If only i could paint.

    Like

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