I am not sure I have cultivated the attributes needed to stay sane as a writer. I put a lot of pressure on myself in life and it often bubbles over into other areas, especially writing. Most of the time, I enjoy writing, and rather than making me insane, it helps me to cope with other stress. I love to draft and create. On the other hand, revision and editing can send me over the edge and lead to procrastination.
Even after submitting Apocalipstick to Eternal Press, the revision process had really just begun. I never considered how it would be AFTER the book was accepted for publication that I would revise in such depth. I am glad I did, and, at times, still wish I had the chance to do more. After an editor had looked at the copy, my once fluent prose seemed choppy, my witty sentences contrived, my vocabulary stunted. I was flummoxed. I spent such a long time getting the manuscript ready for submission that to see the need for additional changes was hard. It drove me over the edge. My problem then and now is I want find the perfect word for the perfect sentence, and my writing is never perfect. Even though I know revision is a critical part of completing a novel and creating the best possible story, I dread it.
Author: Lisa Acerbo
Published: August 1, 2013
Publisher: Eternal Press
Word Count: 67,000
Genre: Horror Paranormal Romance
Content Warning: Contains non-graphic zombie gore
Recommended Age: 15+
Synopsis: Jenna should be having the time of her life at college. Instead, her only desire is survival. She lives in a world gone insane after a virus kills most of the population. Being alive after the apocalypse is bad, but when the undead return, hungry for humans, times turn darker. For Jenna and a small group of survivors, the goal is to reach the High Point Inn. At the inn, Jenna develops feelings for Caleb, who, while exotic and intoxicating, is not quite human. Will this new utopia last?
Excerpt from Apocaliptick by Lisa Acerbo:
“By the pricking of my thumbs, Something wicked this way comes…” ran through Jenna’s mind, another remnant of her former life. Now the graveyard was the safest place. Evil openly roamed the streets and it was coming for her.
Jenna blinked the sweat out of her eyes and took a deep breath. She swayed with exhaustion. Angels, symbols of all things God and good, adornments of the dead, swam in and out of Jenna’s clouded vision. She placed a scarred hand on the peaceful, cold stone markers, embellished with the names of forgotten loved ones. Nowadays, loved ones wanted to come back from the grave and claw your face off, devour your insides.
Jenna wanted to lie down and give up. She was tired and had lost everyone she knew. Hair lank and greasy, mud splattered clothing, old and mismatched. Instead of admitting defeat, she forced herself to stay alert, pushing matted, raven hair out of her eyes with a dirty hand. Jenna could not remember a time in her recent history where she felt clean or had a moment in which she was not fighting to stay alive. Looking around the darkened landscape, she wanted to live. She shoved to her feet once again.
About the Author:
Born and raised in Greenwich, Connecticut, Lisa Acerbo has lived in Trumbull, Connecticut
Lisa always loved to write and worked as an intern for the Connecticut Post when completing her degree at Southern Connecticut State University. In addition to the Connecticut Post, her articles appeared in the Trumbull Patch and Hollywood Scriptwriter. She occasionally dabbles in poetry and her poetry won first place in the Trumbull Arts Festival Literary Competition.
Lisa lives with her husband, Frank, two daughters, Dominique and Jessica, plus three cats and two horses.
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