Winter Tales

    

For weeks, for months, for years and decades,

through winter dark and summer bright,

through rain and drought, death and rebirth

its soul, one with its master,

the tiger slept.

Trees in Winter

Like trees shed their leaves and, vulnerable in the winter cold,

expose their branches, naked, to the world,

so writers, word by word

in their stories, reveal their souls.

Fire and Ice

“Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice.

From what I’ve tasted of desire,
I hold with those who favor fire.

But if it had to perish twice
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.”

― Robert Frost

Winter Red

A drop of blood,

a seed of hope

trapped in the snow,

awaits the thaw.

Winter Blues

Silent trees in the winter cold,

roots in the snow,

search the sky with naked arms, and dream

of distant summers

to come.

Peace Valley

Winter

It was freezing cold in Lake Galena today.

And empty.

Only me,

   and the geese,                                                                             and the ducks.

And the broken tree.

Bleeding.

Like my heart.

Writers Need Editors

 

by Carmen Ferreiro-Esteban

 

 

 

Writers need editors. No exceptions.

Even if, like me, you are both a writer and an editor, you need to hire an editor for your own writing.

A new pair of eyes and a fresh mind will pick up obvious mistakes, inconsistencies, even spelling errors you haven’t noticed.

I was reminded of this last night after I wrote a post for the DVTA (the local chapter of the American Translation Association). The post was about the translation conference I’ve just attended, which, by the way, is one of the reasons I have been absent from this blog lately.

Feeling overconfident, I wrote it and sent it the same day, instead of waiting overnight and reread it as I always do when working on a translation or writing project. But this was just a short piece, it was perfect as it was, I was sure.

I was wrong. Luckily my colleague found the mistakes and edited them saving me from public (if not private) embarrassment.

Still not convinced that hiring an editor is a must?

I’ll show you some examples that support my claim.

Just this morning I read on the second paragraph of a book I was considering buying on Amazon: “My mother died in childbed.” I didn’t buy the book. In fact, I didn’t read past the first page, because this was not the only mistake.

But authors are not the only ones who need help, journalists could use an editor too apparently, for, a little later, I found the following sentences in The Philadelphia Inquirer.

Spelling mistake: “The two Columbia University alums.”

Really awful grammar: “He’s a guy, he likes it – and isn’t that who we wear perfume for?” I think she meant to say: “… isn’t to please men the reason we wear perfume after all?”

Maybe I’m picky, maybe it’s because, being a writer, I can’t turn off the editor on me while I’m reading that these mistakes bother me. But I think not. I think if you’re serious about your writing, you should hire a professional editor before publishing your book, both to revise and to edit your manuscript. And, if you want the book to be perfect, I’d recommend you hire a proofreader as well.

We all make mistakes, but your reader doesn’t have to know that.

If you want to learn more about the different types of editing services available click here.

Plot Twists and Inspiration

Welcome to my mind.

First the muse strikes . . .

. . . then the plot twists as it unfolds.

And the muse watches.

Did You Guess?

Here are two examples of the famous logo still in use today.

Monforte, Lugo. Spain                                                                                     Airport, Madrid. Spain

As for who designed it, click here to see the answer.

Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer: Memoir

My aunt’s house, like most houses in Sevilla at the time, was built around a patio, its walls washed white, an orange tree on a corner and in the middle a running fountain to help fight the unbearable heat that came with summer. And it was sitting on the low ridge of the stone basin I saw Lucrezia for the first time.

Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer in Immortal Love

La casa, como la mayoría de las casas de Sevilla en aquel año de mil ochocientos cuarenta y siete, estaba construida alrededor de un patio de muros blancos. Recuerdo todavía el naranjo que crecía al fondo y la fuente que ocupaba su centro, cuyas aguas siempre frescas ayudaban a combatir el calor agobiante del verano andaluz.

Y fue allí, sentada al borde de la taza de piedra que rodeaba la fuente, donde vi a Lucrecia por primera vez.

Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer en Bécquer eterno.