You know, things may be looking up for me.
I have a scanner now.
All I need is to get a decent sketch together and then scan it into the computer and do some magic to make it into a better cover.
To tell the truth, the cover I have now for Snow Sands, Book 1 is the problem.
I am proud of it, there's no doubt of that, but it's not right. Being unique is cool and all but the cover needs to tell what to expect, at least a bit. There's a reason to do something similar to what others do. It helps people who might like your stuff to locate it since it looks similar to other stuff they liked. So, I'm going to do that sketch and I'm going to use The Enchanted Forest Chronicles, by Patricia C, Wrede as a model because I like the books and they fit somewhat with what I did.
I leave you with a, sorta, poem that I wrote free hand a little earlier when I was feeling a bit blue.
Does success mean much if success doesn't mean much? Does it matter to try and feel if you can't even get feeling from a bloody stubbed toe?
Is there a point when your resolve has dulled?
At what time do things just begin to matter?
When does the world sparkle, the sky glow, the air fill with music and the ground begin to shake?
What do you do to live, to sing, to write, to paint?
At what point do the fates just say, "okay," and let the milk of inspiration flow?
Why do they just say "no?"
Or, is it just me? Is that it all it takes? I must say yes, despite all the grey, despite the dull pain, despite a tired brain?
Is that it?