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Expectations of the Homo Sapien has a new cover!

Recently, I was introduced to Canva.com by the Facebook page Books Go Social, and discovered that I could make my own ebook covers either for free, if I didn’t use any images, or at a small fee ($10) if I used an image and wanted it for multiple uses. So, after much deliberation (well, not too much, because I knew it needed to be done) I made a new cover for my novelette, Expectations of the Homo Sapien, a story about a young professor attempting to teach the working classes evolution in Victorian England – a task which doesn’t go too well.

I knew my old cover didn’t really give any hints about what genre the story was in, and though I liked it for its simplicity, it didn’t have any intrigue to it at all:512ckcMx6aL

So I decided to make one with an image and font that gave a sense of the time period. Here’s what I ended up with:

A Novelette

The setting of the image is similar to one detailed in the story, and I like how the model appears to be waiting, or indeed, expecting, something, which I thought worked well with my title. I also love how dark the room is, because even though the story isn’t really dark, it does have its moments.

Anyway, I’m quite pleased with the results and find the new cover much more appealing. The Kindle version is live on Amazon now (though for some reason, when posting links on Facebook, the old cover still shows up in the page preview), and the paperback version should be live in a few days.

Poetry

A painting of Venus

Opening up like a cracked

walnut shell

yearning to peek at the world,

you see a flash of blue satin

dance across the sky.

Tides rise high

and crash

with soft flecks

against your cheek,

staining your skin

with rainbows.

Under your feet

the earth shifts

to accommodate your scent.

It has known you

always,

but now

you have changed.

It must know you again.

Poetry

Wear it on your heart

My hands fit right around your waist. I can pull you in tight, or let you go. We are sewn together, attached by a loose red string. You can wind it; so can I. Together, then. Hand over hand, gaze to gaze, we gather each other up into a tiny pin-badge pressed forever to our hearts.

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Vanity vs Self

Inkyeverafter Press

Inkyeverafter PressBy Zoe Sadler

So why did we set up Inkyeverafter Press?

For years I have been trying to get my work traditionally published, and yes, like you have probably heard over and over again, it is a long hard road and not always easy. However; books, reading and illustration have always been my biggest passions in life. Have I considered giving up my publishing dreams? Yes! Frankly I have, more than once, but I always come right back around to my love of books.

When I left University after an illustration degree I couldn’t find any work. I was too inexperienced, the market was too saturated. I submitted my portfolio to publisher after publisher and received rejection after rejection. It was soul destroying! I tried to find an agent but I didn’t really have any luck there either, not with anyone truly reputable that could help me on my way…

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Before You Start a Blog, Ask Yourself One Question

A Writer's Path

If you’re reading this, you’re probably considering a new blog. Whether you’re already a blogger or you want to start for the first time, deciding whether or not you should begin comes with a lot of doubt and uncertainty.

You probably have a lot of questions. There’s one that I believe is more important than all the rest.

Before you start a blog, I want you to ask yourself this one question:

Are you doing this to benefit someone else?

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Poetry

Loud voices

Overhead, the tannoy begins

its daily screech

calling on the broken people

to give up their reach.

Pulling the clouds back

across the brightening sky

and drumming in orders

mimicking the buzzing of a fly.

“Bring out the ear plugs,

let’s deaden the sound!”

Someone shouts

circling the round.

At first, the response is dull,

little more than a whisper,

then the idea pops open

in their minds like a blister.

The movement surges,

a road is paved;

a future awaits where

they might all be saved.

Poetry

Naked reflection

In the mirror, I don’t see myself. I see my plain face, worn eyes and body frame (Summer: tabloids bleating ‘beach body, beach body’. Pressure. Desperation. Hunger. Winter: recipe ideas that feed twelve guests. Temptation. Indulgence. Guilt.) But that’s not actually me. That self doesn’t exist in the mirror. In fact, I’m not even sure it exists at all anymore. I’ve been swallowed by a giant beast and squashed by everything else it consumes. I’m so far down that I can no longer see the light from its mouth. But perhaps there’s still a chance that something in here can help me. I should start searching.