I chose someone special... I met her a long time ago...Well, time is relevant, isn't it? I can't give you an exact date, but I think we met when I had about 40 followers...I liked her name...So I clicked on it, went to her profile, went to her blog, found a beautiful "voice" and a friendship was born. :)
Buffy is an Assistant Managing Editor of Features and Niche Publications,York Daily Record/Sunday News and writes fiction for kids and teens. She also is an active member of the writing community. She is one of the founders of The inkwell. It's a great growing welcoming community for both new and established writers and artists. It's full of resources and support that will help you be successful. (Did I mention it's free?) On a more personal note, Buffy loves running is learning to play golf and is a very active community member.
Buffy has shown me so much support. I can't tell you how many emails we have exchanged (and no we've never met). She's offered me advice, critiqued pieces for me without me asking for anything in return...She's something special...I am so glad that I've always liked the name Buffy and my first cousin in NY has the same last name as Buffy...
BTW...her voice...Let me give you a sample of some of her lovely words...
Ella's Dance (ya novel)
Logline: A young girl learns to live again when her grandma, who dies, leaves her 365 notes, one for every day of the coming year.
Opening: Ella stared at the alabaster urn the funeral director had given her. It was hard to believe that Grandma had become nothing more than a pile of white ashes. She longed to feel her grandma’s thick arms around her and to smell her sweet perfume that hung in the air like an August fog. How does a cream-puff-of-a-lady become a bag of brittle bones? she wondered.
Cancer. That evil C word. The word she had lived with for almost a year. The evil thing that had devoured Grandma like a vulture devours a dead carcass, gorging itself until its crop bulges and leaving nothing but splintered bones behind.
It was so unfair, Ella thought. Grandma Dorothy was all she had. And now her beloved Dorothy was gone, off to an Emerald City from which she would never return. And Ella was left with nothing but the damn alabaster urn Grandma had picked out before she died. Picked out like everything else.
The hymns that would be sung.
The biblical passages that would be read.
Even the flowers that would sit beside the urn on the pedestal table.
Picked out everything like it was some damn picnic…
*****Here's a link to some other samples...
*****I'd like to share a few of Buffy's Tweets...I think they tell a lot about her...
*Writing is that thing that gives us peace.
*Writing allows me to be someone I'm not.
*Revising reminds us that our writing can always be better. Strive for the best.
*Writing is like opening an unexpected gift. It surprises us and makes us smile. I love unexpected gifts.
I hope you'll hop over and meet Buffy...You won't regret it...
She's got great voice, Baby!!!