A book, which turned out to be A FICKLE WIND, has been floating around in my head for years. I started to share my time with a partner who lived on Vancouver Island. Life was so much less hectic there than in my San Francisco home city that it seemed like an ideal place to pursue my dream to become an author. I was quite amazed at how quickly I was able to move through the integration of personal experiences with those shared with me by my cousins and some intimate women friends. I made few notes and no drafts. I changed names and, to keep things straight, did have to record what I had named whom.
I worked vigorously for about four months, but not daily and not to the exclusion of everything else in our lives, and produced fourteen chapters. I had reached this point when we had houseguests and I took a two-week break. My woman friend asked to read what I had written, was most encouraging, and said she couldn’t wait to read the rest. Two days after they left, my partner became ill which resulted in my not working on the book for about eighteen months. Not because he continued to be sick but because we returned to San Francisco and other activities took precedence. I was constantly urged by my friend to continue to write but had definitely started to wonder if I would be able to finish the book with the same enthusiasm as before. When I finally returned to it I was quite relieved to find that I still had the same flow, and completed it in about another four months.
But then, for me, the difficult part began. What I experienced with the first printing company I engaged almost had me cancel the whole project. The draft book I was sent contained six errors. There were a few half lines, a few uneven pages — nothing much. Notes were made and emailed to my contact. Then started the rounds of pdf files. I had expected the errors would be corrected and we would be good to go. No!! At least ten new errors appeared. These were corrected. This was a process that continued, seemingly, ad infinitum — many more new errors and corrections by me — until, at round twelve, I called a halt, cancelled my contract, and lost most of my money.
I dreaded starting all over with another printer but I was fortunate enough to find an excellent company in 1106 Design, in Arizona. Almost the first thing I was told was that my cover, which I had commission a friend to paint, would not be suitable. They directed me to Shutterstock to select photographs that appealed to me as most covers are designed in this way. They worked with me until I was happy with the new cover, which I absolutely love, and lived up to their word that they would produce a book for me of which I would be proud. And I couldn’t be happier! Moral of this story: Be very careful whom you entrust to turn your manuscript into your treasured book. My first attempt was a nightmare. My second, a pleasure.
About the Author:
Elizabeth Bourne left England as a young woman and now divides her time between California and Canada. Travel is still an important priority but she also enjoys participating in family life with her two daughters and her grandchildren. The seed to write was planted many years ago but it was not until recently, when Bourne had the uninterrupted time to devote to it, that she decided to fulfill her long-time ambition to be a writer. A Fickle Wind is her debut novel.