In 2015, I completed my first fiction novel. It was a journey like no other. I have always written non-fiction – first as a columnist, next as freelance writer for Hearing Health Magazine, as a reporter, and a few other venues. It came as a surprise how much fun it was to write fiction. Developing the story and characters, editing and editing some more, reading and re-reading never seemed like work. A friend in Tennessee helped with early editing and I had a friend and my daughter read the book for believe-ability.
After two rejections and two letters with encouraging suggestions, early in 2017, I began a major rewrite. I’m letting the story and characters take me on a twisty path until the story ends.
Watch for updates.
Here is a sneak peek of my book The Music of Life:
BLURB: Ella Rose Story dreamed of being a singer and songwriter. When a connection between family, old friends and the music studio where Ella works intersect, at 18 her first recording with a renowned Gospel band becomes reality.
When her daughter becomes deafened due to illness at age two, Ella’s music becomes silenced as well. Friends and family eventually pull her back into the world of music, with surprising outcomes.
A few years later, she realizes when she’s not using sign language, conversations are difficult – words are muddled. She leans on music memory, written music, and feeling the beat of music. Inspiration for new songs has ceased. Being proficient in sign language won’t help her perform or compose music.
What would she do without music in her life? As her faith is tested, and friends and family surround her, she begins to see life taking a new turn.
© Liz Thompson
Nashville. A musician’s land of dreams.
Holding my husband’s arm, I looked upward at the huge chandelier as we entered the elegant lobby. As I brought my gaze down, a bright flash startled me. I shielded my eyes looking for the source.
Flashbulbs from cameras. That’s when I saw the throng of people. Some wearing stylish gowns and men in fancy western wear actually posing for the photographers.
Probably famous musicians, I concluded. I didn’t see any photographers rushing to my side.
I glanced down at my dress and ran my hand over the soft material that draped over my expanding midsection effortlessly. The rich green complemented my red hair that flowed in curly tendrils to my waist.
Alan, in his rented tuxedo, was the epitome of handsome. He held Abbie. Her pink dress looked precious and frilly. She twirled around and around when she put it on. Her black patent leather shoes – or ‘clickies,’ as she called them because they made a clicking sound on the floor – finished her outfit.
Abbie had her head on her Daddy’s shoulder and reached out a hand for me to grasp. I did, and gave it a kiss. She smiled and continued to look around at the activity.
We may not look like we stepped out of a fashion magazine, but right then I didn’t care. I’d rather be wearing jeans and a cotton blouse and be walking through our meadow. I knew Alan loved our small city farm as much as I did.
Suddenly a microphone was put in front of me. In rapid fire, a reporter started asking me questions.
“You’re Ella Rose Story, right?”
I nodded and felt Alan hold my arm tighter.
“I’m with WBDX Nashville. How do you feel about the nomination to be the New Female Artist of 1976?”
My smile came easily but words stayed hidden. The microphone was in front of my mouth as I glanced at Alan. His smile encouraged me.
“I owe my start to Mike and Ann Ray. They gave me a chance while I was still in high school to record with them. I’m honored to be nominated for this award.”