Snowflake Method Software for Writing your Novel – Limited time!

I recently found the Snowflake method of writing when I was struggling with how to start my first novel. I couldn’t believe how logical and easy it was to apply. This software now takes it to the next step and literally walks you through the entire process step by step. It even includes a layout for a book proposal to present when you’re ready for a publisher contract.

I get absolutely NOTHING for promoting the following deal. I just purchased it myself, and I am so excited I had to share it. The offer ends Friday night, November 20, 2009 at midnight sharp,PST. Right now the software is $20 USD. After Friday night it will be $100.

If you are serious about writing The Novel, you can’t go wrong with this method. I have a published author friend, Alison Strobel, who uses this system and if it works for her, I feel confident it will work for me. As I use it, I will post reviews on the process. In the meantime, check out the link for the Snowflake Pro (Source: Randy Ingermanson).

A Gabriola Autumn

When is the last time I took time to enjoy the present? I find myself constantly lingering in the past, thinking about hurts and ways I’ve been wronged. Since I moved to Gabriola I have been forced to lift my head and look around. I’m surrounded by so much beauty that it sometimes causes a joyful pain inside. It pulled the following out of me this morning… I don’t claim to be a poet, but I do love my island.

A Gabriola Autumn
by April Gibson

Watching through my window, deer wander nonchalantly along an ancient trail,
Then take a running leap over the human boundary to the pond.
Bright colours of fall leaves whip the air, strung along by a feisty rainstorm.
Heron legs gently caress the pond surface, swoop up, and land gracefully in a pine.
Robins procrastinate their southern journey, picking through a pile of musty mulch,
Pulling juicy worms with a jubilant air.
Box of aromatic garlic cloves at hand, moist garden beds stripped of summer fare,
bare hands dipped into good earth, spring’s harvest laid to rest.
Dark ocean calling, umbrellas marching in tune to crashing waves,
Gulls swooping, fish called from the depths, a moody mist among shore rocks.
Laughter echoes, the feel of smooth gourds and fragrant bunches of leeks,
A garden oasis of organic friends and vegetables, a last red pepper snatched eagerly.
Early darkness falls, woodsmoke billowing silently invisibly into the night air.
Halloween pumpkins lit, leering, lining a tree corridor under a full moon.

Writing my Novel

Putting Words on Paper

Ever since I learned to read at the age of 5, I’ve devoured books like they are a good dinner, and I’ve been spinning my own tales in my head, in preparation for the day I write The Novel. Yet I never wrote anything on paper. The ideas? Lost for all time. Sure, I’ve written the odd short story or article, and of course this blog is testament to my love of writing, but The Novel alluded me.

Recently I had tea with a couple friends, and we were talking about the fears that hold people back from pursuing their passions. My passion is writing, but my fear of failure and my equally large fear of success, hold me back from just starting.

So I started writing. I sat down and wrote a short synopsis of the story I’m aching to tell. My story. My experiences. The things that make me feel.

Visit my About page to read the synopsis, and keep coming back to read updates on how The Novel is progressing.

Leaving the fair behind…

It’s days like today that make me really and truly loathe myself.

I started it off with an extra large steeped tea, 3 sugar, 3 cream, accompanied by a toasted buttered sesame bagel with egg and bacon, all from Tim Hortons.

For lunch I had an organic whole wheat tortilla bean and cheese burrito, slathered in organic sour cream and organic salsa… YUM! Next was Tostito brand tortilla chips with that awful plastic fake cheese dip… ick… I ate only a little of that before it completely grossed me out… Of course I had a coke and a bag of malted easter eggs I found on sale… I felt literally ill from all the sugar by the time I left work…

Dinner was organic crackers (ritz type) with organic creamcheese (about a Tablespoon) and half a chocolate easter bunny. I just didn’t feel like cooking, and nothing appealed to me, so I didn’t make a proper dinner.

It’s 10 PM. I have a headache and am off to bed.

I’m covered in hormone induced hives. Oh yippee.

Why the heck is my life controlled by FOOD?! Why does it even matter what I eat?! Honestly… Does it matter? Isn’t the fact that I interacted with my son today of greater importance? What about the people I made laugh at work? What about the time I spent talking to my fiance? Isn’t that what really defines LIFE for me? Food is NOT life. Food is sustenance. Period.

What am I so scared of? Why does the thought of losing weight for good terrify me?

Is it the idea of change?

Is it the fear of failure? That maybe I’m not ABLE to lose weight?

Is it the fear of success? That once I lose the weight I’ll still loathe myself and it will have all been a sad sad commentary on my pathetic lack of self worth?

What exactly holds me back from achieving everything I want for myself?

I say it’s because I am numbing the pain… Or numbing the fear… Or drowning out the self criticism that screams in my mind day after day…

It’s a pointless exercise, buying healthy organic foods, and then bingeing on garbage. What’s the freakin’ point? What a waste!!!

Leaving the Fair Behind
by April Gibson

I’m sick and tired of this roller coaster life.
One minute I’m high on life,
The next I’m plunging to my death.
Then I’m climbing out of the abyss,
Then plunging down again.
Now I’m upside down,
Then I’m right side up.

Time to just put my hand up,
Ask the ride conductor to let me off.
Walk past the popcorn.
Walk past the cotton candy.
Walk past the hotdog stand.
Walk until I come to a meadow.

Birds singing. Blue skies.
Bright sun. Cool grass beneath my feet.
Trees on the hills in the distance.
The jangle of the country fair music of my life,
Just a faint memory.
Breath in the fresh air.
Breath in, breath out.
Breath in, breath out.

Let the cleansing wind blow through my hair.
Close my eyes and let the smells wash over me.
Fresh mowed grass, clean air, mountain breezes.
Listen to the sounds. Stand still.
Birds chirping. Wind blowing. Grass ruffling.
Open my eyes and drink in the sights.
Blue skies, squinted eyes in the bright sun.
Lush green grass shifting and bowing in the breeze.
Deep breath in, deep breath out.
Put my hands out and feel the wind.
Close my eyes and believe I’m flying.

Free from the hectic rush and press of life, in this meadow.
The roller coaster is still and I have walked away.
I look behind me, but it is dark and I see nothing but stars.