"Eternity is not Enough" (aka EINE) is my dream come true.
I always wanted to write a book and although it is currently unpublished, EINE represents a personal accomplishment I certainly never thought possible with a full time job, two kids and the myriad of other responsibilities chasing me through the day.Though this is embarassing to admit, I stopped reading fiction years ago primarily because I lacked the time. However, I was also envious of the writers whose witty prose was intellectually stimulating, the authors who were able to create a believable world of fantasy, and those whose published works should've been stored in the circular file instead of wasting shelf space. So, I've spent the past decade hiding behind non-fiction. I occasionally crawled out of the history and new age literature hole to read a few books which reminded me of the mysterious, paranormal, and suspenseful young adult novels and authors of my youth--Agatha Christie, Edgar Allan Poe, Carolyn Keene, R.L. Stine, Christopher Pike, et al.
Last September, a dear friend of mine insisted I read the "Twilight" series by Stephenie Meyer. Considering it was both popular and fictional, it had two strikes against it. Very reluctantly, I pried open the book's hardcover, sighing at the futile promise I made to my friend. How was I going to get through the torture about to take place? I suffered through the first chapter and then somewhere in the middle of chapter two I fell in love with Edward Cullen.
The formula of Meyer's flawed protagonists, who happen to be star-crossed lovers set against the world of vampires and werewolves, exploded successfully. I devoured all four books of the series and her unfinished fifth manuscript in five days. I barely slept. I barely ate. I HAD to know what happened to my fictional love, Edward.
And then, as I read the last line of "Midnight Sun," anger percolated in my veins. I craved more. I wanted to know more about Bella and Edward's worlds. The anger quickly turned into an all too familiar and overwhelming emotion.
Jealousy. I wasn't envious of Meyer's success. I envied her ability to capture an idea and just write it down.
I'd been dying to write a vampire novel since high school. I had started and stopped so many stories over the years that I just dismissed my writing ambition as yet another passion I'd want for a day and then abandon because it was overwhelming.
But what if this time I actually wrote something? The thought floated in my mind for a couple of hours as I wondered where to start. Amidst the playful screams of my rowdy kids, an old, nagging nightmare popped into my consciousness. This fearsome childhood dream became the story's cornerstone.
By the time my husband got home from work, I had gone from working mom and housewife to aspiring novelist. He listend to my plan patiently, nodding in all the right places, questioning the logistics of time and family commitments. By the end of my sales pitch, he was hooked.
Three months later, EINE was complete. The proverbial blood, sweat, and tears poured from its pages. I did it!
As I began my hunt for agents and publishers, I discovered that at about 227,000 words, my baby was about 130,000 words too long for a first-time novel. I trimmed about 57,000 words, but it's still over the industry's standards. Needless to say, this hurdle alone makes it nearly unpublishable.
Where does this leave EINE? Paranormal plots have always had a strong following, and I do believe my novel is commercially viable. So I'm continuing my search for a publisher.
As much as I want to publish the work (and I won't give up until I figure out a way), I'm just happy I set my mind to something and made it happen. Finally.
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