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With Roots in the Alps: A Memoir of an Unusual Childhood [Annelou Perrenoud] on leondumoulin.nl *FREE* shipping on qualifying offers. The fortuitous nature of.
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I cannot find peace. The Players Club. The past three days have been smoky grey, sunless, and speckled with a rain so light that it seems almost an illusion, Suddenly there are puddles in the street and a wet film everywhere. And I have been watching in wonder street trees definitively turning to gold, some of them rich with a deep coppery gold like resounding bass notes in this orchestra of beauty.

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Others seem sprayed with captured bits of sun, light luminous gold scattered between gleaming wet branches. Leaves that have stayed a dusky green are thick, and seem ready to stay where they are, no matter what the weather has in store, but with each day a thin golden carpet has been steadily filling in across the damp grey streets, turning the streets of Manhattan to gold despite the insult of machinery, the crush and hurtle of cars and bicycles, the steady tread of people on the pavements. It was a wonderful moment, people gathering and listening as I read from my first novel, and then letting me know how much they liked the sound of it and coming over to the sales table to buy the book.

May the word-of-mouth begin!

I was leg-wobbling nervous and could hear my voice wobbling along with my legs, demonstrating at least to me how nervous I was to stand on a stage and present. But the microphone was perfectly placed, the podium the right height, and the audience so receptive that I soon lost my panic and began to enjoy myself, and the comments that followed lit a glow in my heart that echoed the gold-dappled fall landscape that thrilled me on the ride home.

Please post your review on Amazon or Goodreads. I need patience. I have none. Thoughts flitter in and out of my mind like fireflies against the window panes of the country house in June.

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Yes, I know. Why haven't they spawned more and more of themselves? Folks tell me they have bought the book. Some say they have read it, and having read it, they love it. They will post a review. They will suggest it to their book club. Be patient! But I am almost 82 years old. I am living the opening chords of the dream I had for myself when I was nine years old.

I knew in my heart that I would carve stories from nothing, I knew with such certainty that I would find the words to dazzle the world, that I would be a writer when I grew up. I grew up and was blessed to live my life among writers, amplifying their work to the best of my ability. I loved their books. I loved my work. But now they fly on their own, and it is my turn. I am a writer, now. I am a novelist, but the fans and their laudatory words swirl about and vanish.

Will you write another, they ask?

I say I am waiting to see this first child of my mind reaching an amplified readership, being recognized by my peers. I may not have time for a second book. Mind or body may fail me. I am almost 82 years old and filled with an anxious energy to see my dream fulfilled. No time for patience. I need it NOW. My first novel, Footprints On The Heart , has flown out of my reach, winging its way out into the world on wings of the internet to reach out and touch strangers in ways I cannot imagine.

It's a little like sending a child off to school for the first time. Will others see the wonder and appeal of this brainchild of mine?

Will they read past the first few words and have heated opinions about the characters and the way they behave? Will my readers want to read to the end?

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Will they laugh and cry where I intended that they should? Will they tell friends to read it and recommend it to their bookclubs, will they feel that the characters will always be present in their hearts, or will they shelve the novel with a sigh and never look at it again. So many questions and no answers. Just a pulsating silence around my novel's publication. When I was nine years old I decided that I would become a writer one day. I was a big fan of Enid Blyton. I was a voracious reader who galloped eagerly through any novel that came my way.

Jean's Blog (Check out links to Guest Blogs in lefthand Column)

Taking the bull by the horns, I actually wrote to Enid Blyton and sent her a story for her magazine, Sunny Stories. She wrote back to say that Sunny Stories had ceased to be, but that I should keep writing. I took this to be a message from the gods, and I promised myself that I would keep writing. I could not imagine a life without the stories that glowed in my imagination and filled my dreams. When I grew up and became a responsible adult, I realized that a paying job was next on the agenda.

I was fortunate enough to be able to make books my life-work, books I loved, books written by others I admired, books I was able to help out into the world. And those books filled my dreams and my imagination. And I still knew deep down that one day I would become a writer. Time passed, and I became a grandmother. I felt impelled to start writing about my unusual childhood growing up in Egypt, to reach out to my grandchildren and give them a piece of their past that they would never be able to imagine if I didn't write about it for them.

I wrote in the corners of my life, stealing time, until, with time, I actually had a book, and my memoir, Sipping From the Nile, My Exodus from Egypt, was born. To my surprise, I had become a writer. But my first love had always been fiction. I wanted to share a story with the world. So I am at last who I was always meant to be. At 81 years old, I have published my first novel.

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I am sharing thoughts and words that matter to me through the lives of characters as real to me as the living people in my life. I know their innermost hearts. I know who they are. Their story is out in the world. And there is another story waiting in the wings, if I am given time to write it. The characters are already knocking at the door, asking to be released. How wonderful that you are releasing the to the world, Jean.

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It's a pleasure to hear from you and I will surely get myself a copy and enjoy reading it! Hi just wanted to leave an appreciation comment, as I was looking for some cool honyemoon ideas and stuff to read. Really enjoyed reading this genre of your blog.