tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33716588587723038402024-03-19T01:57:45.178-07:00The Life of an Almost WriterEliza M. Yeagerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01869798459225522242noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3371658858772303840.post-61760189613250412882011-07-19T22:17:00.000-07:002011-07-19T22:17:23.693-07:00Not An Entertaining Update...UnfortunatelyI've been slacking lately. I can't even remember the last time I really sat down and wrote anything. I'm not sure what's going on with me. Maybe it's my lack of energy or my fear of failing.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgahR-sWIXw5cqAmfk_B-fUDN7bEA3FmCH4tw8Reb2MXuTqubANp51zKj0KO8qWq3ntbRzs3BSzYINQx2B1Wu_sdrYe6hx3Kl14vgctDr-oznUxyodbsRZgBXZaUg46ko9-pqnW-WbqoDca/s1600/springmill5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgahR-sWIXw5cqAmfk_B-fUDN7bEA3FmCH4tw8Reb2MXuTqubANp51zKj0KO8qWq3ntbRzs3BSzYINQx2B1Wu_sdrYe6hx3Kl14vgctDr-oznUxyodbsRZgBXZaUg46ko9-pqnW-WbqoDca/s200/springmill5.jpg" width="150" /></a>I've sent out my book out to a few other literary agents and have received nothing back. I'm not sure if that's a good thing, but I like to think it is.<br />
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Since the last post, not too much has happened. My days are filled with my daughter, reading, an occasional hour of writing, and playing sims. Sometimes I fell like I'm a forty year old woman with no friends who sits around with nothing to do. Most of that is correct besides my age of course.<br />
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I'm so far away from my friends and family that it starts to feel like I don't have any.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfyWry_zCfxecE7_oqaaG3Dv92v9xBfO-zqWzj0GWOTZiqsDW4Py9qnRHEwo05D8_0Fu4oEeYCtyte_P3kGgayoRS5Vs7MFFa1K2MoLFDDHqDgF9GQadbFW1NpIsVT0ILFRP75h6Z_xCyo/s1600/springmill4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfyWry_zCfxecE7_oqaaG3Dv92v9xBfO-zqWzj0GWOTZiqsDW4Py9qnRHEwo05D8_0Fu4oEeYCtyte_P3kGgayoRS5Vs7MFFa1K2MoLFDDHqDgF9GQadbFW1NpIsVT0ILFRP75h6Z_xCyo/s200/springmill4.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>My best friend Aly did come visit me a month ago. It was great seeing her. We went to the Spring Mill State Park near my town and it was wonderful. It was nice being able to talk to her and not just a crazy two year old.<br />
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She spend two days with us and it reminded me that I need to get closer friends. When she drove off I almost ran after her car. Her leaving on let reality sit in. My life as an almost writer is far from eventful.<br />
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A few weeks later, John, Savannah, and I took a trip to visit our family in friends in northern Indiana. I got to see my Momma Rhoe whom I absolutely adore. Our personalities are so similar that it's hard to believe we aren't actually related.<br />
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It was good seeing my actually family too. My mom had no idea I was coming and was surprised to see me. We ended up stay two days longer because I begged John. Sometimes I feel like I'm not really part of their family. So I was shocked when I actually got there and didn't want to leave.<br />
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In writing news, I have started a new book called <a href="http://figment.com/books/100136-Barely-">Barely</a>.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeAjaOlc162t_BvVdCgecEfNsKCQr3n2OCMDNT6i_H4yPlcTnbb0dVdCNc7-fGzRDCDS-jrtwT6Nabk2D-l3Taei3Gq8PY2yo5WrqJMGVguW6hDS5YD87HZ_Xu3oZtCcks57oGJxn0BF9O/s1600/barely.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeAjaOlc162t_BvVdCgecEfNsKCQr3n2OCMDNT6i_H4yPlcTnbb0dVdCNc7-fGzRDCDS-jrtwT6Nabk2D-l3Taei3Gq8PY2yo5WrqJMGVguW6hDS5YD87HZ_Xu3oZtCcks57oGJxn0BF9O/s1600/barely.jpg" /></a><br />
It's about a girl named Emma Tate who is from Tennessee but moves to New York City after her high school graduation because she can't stand her mom. She was ready to stretch her legs and have her own life. Before she knows it, it's seven years later. When her baby sister is dying of a brain tumor, she heads back to her hometown to spend the last months with her sister. It's still a work in process, but I enjoy writing it.<br />
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I'm not sure why I write about loss and depression all the time. I guess people say write what you know.<br />
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I will try my hardest to keep my blog up to date.<br />
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Eliza<br />
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Random Fact #4<br />
I love to read books before seeing the movies.Eliza M. Yeagerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01869798459225522242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3371658858772303840.post-40851142980364708812011-06-18T14:10:00.000-07:002011-06-18T14:14:10.450-07:00Playing the Waiting Game<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My life is obviously boring.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's been almost a week since my last post for one reason only. I'm not sure what to talk about. I browse the website and read other blogs mesmerized. Not only do they have reason's for writing, but they have amazing entries.</span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkwXKaydYTmFXUV31KQi9F4F7RdX5FEBT-4_M088nOZ0ZQCT6DTRxzOfZ9BMX1NwTTDG6g298z6JojUn-arRbtEp8ugran1jFMq9GIMM3czmjf4wiUy0UKTyAK-u1TsF9OAKu2XISRPWfW/s1600/bookswaiting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkwXKaydYTmFXUV31KQi9F4F7RdX5FEBT-4_M088nOZ0ZQCT6DTRxzOfZ9BMX1NwTTDG6g298z6JojUn-arRbtEp8ugran1jFMq9GIMM3czmjf4wiUy0UKTyAK-u1TsF9OAKu2XISRPWfW/s320/bookswaiting.jpg" width="320" /></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I guess the life of an almost writer isn't very eventful. When you are trying to get published you must learn patience. It's a waiting game.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So far, I've sent my book to four different literary agents. I've gotten two no's and nothing back from the others. For some reason, when I started writing, I had in my mind that this would be a piece of cake. However, it's not that easy and far from sweet.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm planning on doing this for the rest of my life. Writing that is. If I can make it into a career, then my life would be complete. If not, my love for it will never cease.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Writing comes so easily to me. Some people can pick up a guitar for the first time and be amazing. Other's can hold a paintbrush and create a masterpiece. I, can change a diaper in less than 10 seconds, bathe my daughter in under 3 minutes, and handle her fits and screaming effortlessly. I just happen to be a writer as well.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On a happier note, back in April I won a contest on <a href="http://www.figment.com/">Figment</a>. Part of the prize for winning was being a part of their blog. They emailed me some amazingly entertaining questions which I had an awesome time answering me. Sitting there and answering them, made me realize how much I love what it is I do. Even if it was just for a writing contest for a website, it made me feel so...important. Who doesn't like to feel important?</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To read the blog, <a href="http://blog.figment.com/2011/06/16/interview-with-figmenter-eliza-m-yeager-dreams-nooks-and-rpattz/">Click here</a></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Random Fact #3 - I have to listen to music when I write.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/AJ4ISfI6A-0?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>Eliza M. Yeagerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01869798459225522242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3371658858772303840.post-18113022690984405382011-06-13T16:47:00.000-07:002011-06-13T16:53:14.669-07:00The Suicide Letter<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">If you were to ask me a year ago if I would even write a book, I would tell you no. I was so involved with being a mother, that I never thought I would have the time to do much of anything. Now that my daughter is almost three and she is doing nearly everything on her own, I had to give writing a try.</span><br />
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">My number one book priority right now is finishing my book, The Suicide Letter. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">About six years ago, after listening to the 30 Seconds To Mars album, I had a dream of this story. In my dream, a boy was contemplating suicide after losing the love of his life. The dream was so vivid, I could see every detail of his small apartment. I could even smell the rotting of old food. The boy was sitting at a kitchen table and scribbling words down on a piece of paper. I never saw the paper in my dream, but I know it was a suicide letter. I felt everything he felt. The dream was extremely intense.</span></span><br />
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I tried numerous times to write this story. Most of the time is was as a script. Since the dream was so dynamic, I thought making it a film would be best. Unfortunately, I could never get it quite right. I never forgot about the dream.</span></span><br />
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">About six months ago, my sister Allie told me about the website </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><a href="http://figment.com/" style="color: #3366cc; font-weight: bold;">Figment</a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">. I was hesitant, but she talked me into joining. After posting the first chapter, I became addicted. I loved that people could heart the story and tell me what they liked or even what the disliked about the story. </span></span><br />
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">The Suicide Letter isn't finished yet, nor is it perfect. However, I do have a few chapters up. Since I want so badly to be published, I have decided no longer to post the new chapters. So far, I have been getting great comments. People seem to love the story. I just hope that a literary agent feels the same.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Random Fact #2: My most prized possession is my nook which I named sNOOKi</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">The cover for The Suicide Letter was made by CriWrites from Inkpop.com</span><br />
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</span></span>Eliza M. Yeagerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01869798459225522242noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3371658858772303840.post-31177477117878600052011-06-13T12:41:00.000-07:002011-06-13T21:46:57.491-07:00Me<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">I have been debating whether or not to write a blog. I came up with various different reasons why I shouldn't. The main reasoning was because I don't think people care about what a 22 year old aspiring writer does everyday. And then there is "Will anyone even read this?" But here I am, posting my first blog for the world to see.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">John is the most amazing man I have ever met. Actually, the way we met was awkward. We met four years ago at a coffee shop in Huntington, Indiana. I didn't notice him until he ran up to me, touched my hair, and said, "You hair is big and poofy." I am not exaggerating on this quote. That's exactly what he said. I responded by telling he was weird and get away from me.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">That's John though; completely random and extremely funny. I took me about a month to agree to go out with him. It was the end of my senior year, and I didn't want to date anyone. However, even after four years, it's hard to say no to him. </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIjS_l0FrtZgXn6QaHYBrZcknt8qPTP8OMLw7bQfsRHjrQvGNdhbGiu9MoMetBPrtkmSBCRGudkiGhQekQLaTTTeXZPa_aAf9N-3Osuer_fZI15x_gDDAS53c8tUmLlKM8L-Tlg-xLhSqC/s1600/006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIjS_l0FrtZgXn6QaHYBrZcknt8qPTP8OMLw7bQfsRHjrQvGNdhbGiu9MoMetBPrtkmSBCRGudkiGhQekQLaTTTeXZPa_aAf9N-3Osuer_fZI15x_gDDAS53c8tUmLlKM8L-Tlg-xLhSqC/s1600/006.jpg" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;">John and I have been through some rough times. Most of it because we had a kid so young. We had to give up being kids and that was hard on both of us. For awhile, it was touch and go. I broke up with him more times than I can count. I always came back. Being without him was harder than I thought it would be, and I didn't want to live that way. We both realized how much we loved each other and how much we wanted to make this work. Not just for us, but for Savannah too.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;">Now, we are engaged. <3</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;">Spending my days as a stay at home mom can be stressful but also rewarding. I've spent everyday with my daughter since she was born nearly three years ago. I've been lucky that I have not missed a milestone, something I was terrified about. I was there when she first laughed, her first word, the first steps, and I plan on being there for all of her firsts...well, almost all of them.</span></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3G1yugAFMDkuz8HDgj6EqbYFia6pwtMGQgi3sEVbXVTn15u_dB2JK5mMXClNC4UwATj7m80B9dvpiieZ0BJyqnmkAzFsVPW8g9lUHIE9VcX6uZQh2Y2Or0kSC7G5nr7IBl1fCZZhZ6ZI8/s1600/004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3G1yugAFMDkuz8HDgj6EqbYFia6pwtMGQgi3sEVbXVTn15u_dB2JK5mMXClNC4UwATj7m80B9dvpiieZ0BJyqnmkAzFsVPW8g9lUHIE9VcX6uZQh2Y2Or0kSC7G5nr7IBl1fCZZhZ6ZI8/s320/004.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">I may be a stay at home mom now, but I do plan on making something of myself. Like millions of others, I'm an inspiring writer. I've always loved writing. In high school I was on the newspaper and spent most of the class goofing off. I didn't realized how much I truly loved it until afterwards.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;">I have been rejected twice already by literary agents. Being told no is hard for me. It could be because I'm stubborn or maybe it's normal. Who likes being told no? Especially when it's about something you want so badly. I've considered framing the rejection letters and hanging them up. They could be my inspiration. I don't think I will ever give up.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;">Besides writing, I love to hang out with my friend. Unfortunately, since September my best friend Aly has been studying abroad in England. Sure, I'm excited that she got to experience something so amazing. And yes, I'm so proud of her. That doesn't mean that I haven't been counting down the days for her arrival back home. Which happens to be today :D</span></span><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjsZ1iLPKe7mjyC-1bXP2LLwb6LefjKnQqay_TZ1O7utaaF6OtAWdzQVvyMFz87BZOux6KoA5jT892nzZIgDy_exF5Tq3zmi5Gd-AoAYnhoGWFWQllKU4Ea-W6Kuc_EG2uSKI87QjzziQE/s1600/meandaly.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjsZ1iLPKe7mjyC-1bXP2LLwb6LefjKnQqay_TZ1O7utaaF6OtAWdzQVvyMFz87BZOux6KoA5jT892nzZIgDy_exF5Tq3zmi5Gd-AoAYnhoGWFWQllKU4Ea-W6Kuc_EG2uSKI87QjzziQE/s320/meandaly.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;">Aly and I have been best friends for over five years now. Besides my other best friend Gabe, she is the only friendship that's lasted after high school graduation. I'm okay with that fact. Alyson is the nicest and most generous person in the world. She has been so amazing when I was going through some of the toughest times. She has always been honest with me and tells me what I don't want to hear. I could count on her for anything.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">I hope you enjoy my future blogs. And if not, it will be nice to write them. Expressing myself is hard for me, but I think it could help me be a better writer and maybe even a better person. </span><br />
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</span></span>Eliza M. Yeagerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01869798459225522242noreply@blogger.com0