blurb, finally.


I really wish I knew where inspiration comes from. Honestly, what drives us? Sometimes, I can I sit down and bang out five different blogs in two days; or a few chapters in my book, or do some thick editing to The Anchor. Other times, as much as I hate to admit it, I can go weeks, months even, without touching my work. I really haven’t put too much in to my first novel lately, except a mental list of all the things I’m going to change, “in the new year.” But why not now? What’s the catch? What stops us from going on? And what gives us just the right push to start-up again?

I go through these sorts of cycles all the time. Changes in my yoga practice, changes in my writing habits and I get it; our busy, daily lives are hard to manage, especially when it comes to things we really want to do. But I would loooooooooooove to know what it means when out of nowhere, in  drop-of-the-hat fashion, we can be struck with inspiration and start it again? Though I am currently plagued with the, “why,” of it all, I am pleased to announce that I have started on the second installment of Walter and Bridget’s story; a project I am currently calling The Bridge. I’m not sure if this title is going to stick but I’m trying it on; see if it fits as well as its sister novel. I am already beaming with excitement and pride over this portion of their story. I’m allowing myself to use Bridget’s voice in this book and I am thrilled. Writing The Anchor from Walter’s perspective was fun and obviously interesting considering I am in no way, shape or form a guy. Being able to tell this love story through the eyes of his beloved Bridget is going to be a privilege. I feel like Bridget and I are extremely different, though we share several similarities; so writing and using her voice is going to be fun (and hopefully quite funny.)

I was doing some lazy-girl Sunday reading and it suddenly hit me. I could see the book unfolding right before my eyes and I had to start writing. Now it’s a frenzy, just as before, of endless notes and researching. And jazz music. Walter and Bridget’s love story for some odd reason HAS to have a crooning, jazzy backdrop. I’m obsessed with the story already and I’m only twenty pages in. I can’t wait to see what these characters do.

I seriously adore the world I get to live in when I’m writing; sometimes I don’t even feel like me, and it’s awesome. Writing can take you to some seriously amazing, wild places.

I know I’ve mentioned it here before, but I have found it quite difficult to write an appropriate blurb for the first book. I hate having to answer, “what is your book about?” because my answer is extremely lackluster. “It’s a love story, told in male perspective.” Like…no-one wants to read that. I know. I’ve thought about it so many times in the shower, while doing my makeup, blow-drying my hair, in the car on the way to work, at work – okay, I think about it all the time. “What am I going to say to make people want to read this story?” (Notice I did not say sell this book, because let’s be honest, if it isn’t a story people won’t care about it’s not going to sell anyway.) Here’s what I’ve come up with; it’s about the most honest combination of words I’ve been able to contrive without giving everything away.

Walter and Bridget have always been more than best friends but less than lovers. She left him in their perfect Southern town of Beulah, South Caroline after he broke her heart. Bridget’s sudden absence shocked him to his core and forever changed him. Four years later and she’s back, and everything has changed – and will continue to do so as long as Walter and Bridget coexist; they are anchored to each other. Their story unfolds in Audrey J. Parks’ debut novel, so aptly named, The Anchor

(Yes, I will use a pen name.)

I feel like this is a sorry excuse for a blurb but it’s better than what I’d been telling people. Hell, anything was better than that. I’m just so afraid I’ll ruin it by describing it. – does that make sense? The story has turned out so wonderful and more special to me than I could have imagined in my wildest dreams and, ironically, I don’t want to tarnish it with incorrect words. Le sigh. What a lovely problem to have.


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