A Vote of Confidence

I've read many books by Robin Lee Hatcher, but her historical romances are my favorites. This book came out in April and I read it, defying all my other deadlines and reading that I needed to do! My mother-in-law (Imy) was born in 1918 and there is something about those times that intrigue me. I look at the photos of Imy's parents and wonder about what they thought of the changing times.

What's fun about this story for me is that one of Imy's sisters was named Cleo. I always know that Robin's stories will capture authentic details, and human passions. Be sure to check out her blog and she gives you all a free gift below--a first chapter, as well as a little about how she came up with the idea.

Enjoy!


A VOTE OF CONFIDENCE
by Robin Lee Hatcher

Who says a woman can’t do a man’s job?

Put up or shut up! Complaining about Bethlehem Springs' dissolute mayoral candidate, Gwen Arlington is challenged to take on the role herself. For seven years, she’s carved out an independent life in the bustling mountain town of Bethlehem Springs, Idaho, teaching piano and writing for the local newspaper. But now she’s a single woman running for mayor — and in 1915 this decision is bound to stir up trouble.

Morgan McKinley is fed up with the delays that hinder the construction of New Hope Health Spa, a place where both rich and poor can come for rest and healing. New to the area, he has determined that serving as mayor would help him push through his agenda for progress.

Gwen and Morgan each want to prove they are the most qualified candidate, not only to voters but to each other, and so sparks fly as the two campaign. Although Morgan has learned to guard his heart as fiercely as Gwen guards her independence, could they learn to be allies instead of adversaries?

This first book in the Sisters of Bethlehem Springs Series provides intriguing insights into how women challenged convention and shaped America in the early twentieth century.


Buy from Christianbook.com
Buy from Amazon.com

A NOTE FROM ROBIN:

Ideas come to writers in lots of different ways. The idea for The Sisters of Bethlehem Springs series came to me back in 2003-2004 and had its genesis in a couple of other books. From Catching Katie had come a fascination with the decade leading up to the passing of the 19th Amendment that gave American women the right to vote. From a secondary character in Speak to Me of Love came a fondness for a woman in an unusual occupation. While those two things were rolling around in my head, up popped the final ingredient. A question: Who says a woman can't do a man's job? And the next thing I knew, I'd met Gwen and Cleo Arlington, the heroines of the first two books in the series. I had to wait to meet my third heroine until the hero of A Vote of Confidence walked into my imagination. Guess what, Morgan McKinley had a younger sister, Daphne. Each of these women have jobs that weren't considered a woman's domain in their time (1915-1918). I hope readers will become as fond of Gwen, Cleo, and Daphne -- and the men with whom they fall in love -- as I am.

Excerpt of chapter one:
A Vote Of Confidence

Zondervan (April 2009)

Chapter 1


Idaho, May 1915

The Torpedo Runabout cut the corner from Shenandoah Street onto Wallula Street, driving over two of the boarding house’s rose bushes in the process. The automobile then weaved dangerously close to Guinevere Arlington’s white picket fence.

With a gasp, Gwen jumped up from the porch swing.

In the nick of time, the Model T Ford veered away from her fence, avoiding disaster.

“Hello, ladies.” The driver tipped his hat to Gwen and her sister as if nothing was amiss.

“And there goes our next mayor.” Cleo shook her head and cast a look of despair at Gwen. “Ten o’clock in the morning and drunk as a skunk. Can you imagine him holding the reins of government?”

“No, I can’t.” Gwen sank onto the porch swing again. “Hiram Tattersall is a fool, not to mention his penchant for strong spirits.”

Cleo crossed one booted foot over another as she leaned against the porch railing. “Why don’t you run for office, Gwennie? Not a reason in the world you couldn’t do it.”

“Me?” Gwen looked at her twin in disbelief.

“Of course you. There’s nothing in the law that says a woman can’t be the mayor of our fair town. You’re a nicer person than Mayor Hopkins, the old coot?”

“Cleo. Don’t be unkind.”

“I’m sorry. I know he’s sick or we wouldn’t be having this special election. But he hasn’t done a single, solitary thing of worth while he’s been mayor, and everybody knows Tattersall will be an even worse mayor than Hopkins.”

“I have no qualifications for political office.”

“And Tattersall does? You’d do a better job than Hopkins and Tattersall put together. Folks like you.” Cleo winked. “Especially the men, pretty as you are.”

Gwen wasn’t amused. “If I were to run, I wouldn’t want to be elected for my appearance.”

“So don’t let that be why. You got that fancy education burning to be put to use. Why not let folks see you’re as full of information as a mail-order catalog?”

It was a ridiculous idea. Gwen had no intention of running for mayor. She was content giving piano lessons to the children of Bethlehem Springs and writing her columns for the local newspaper.

Cleo drank the last of her iced tea, set the glass on the porch floor, and pushed off from the railing. “I’d best get back to the ranch. I’ve got a load of chores still to be done.” She slapped her floppy-brimmed hat onto her head, covering her mop of short, strawberry-blonde curls. “You’d be doing this town a favor if you were its mayor. We could use a little forward thinking, if you ask me.”

Gwen smiled as she rose from the swing. “Darling Cleo, I could never be as forward thinking as you.”

“Ha!”

Gwen followed her sister off the porch and around to the back of the house where Cleo’s pinto was tethered to a post. Cleo stopped long enough to give Gwen a hug and a kiss on the cheek, then untied her horse, grasped the saddle horn, and swung into the seat. “You think about it, Gwennie. I’m telling you. It’s the right thing to do. You pray and see if the Lord doesn’t agree with me.” With a tug on the brim of her hat, she twirled her horse away and cantered down the street.

Gwen shook her head. Cleo could come up with the most outlandish ideas. Imagine: Gwen Arlington, mayor of Bethlehem Springs. It was preposterous. Not that she didn’t believe women should serve in public office. She did, and she was glad she lived in a state where women had the right to vote. But she had no political ambitions.

With a sigh, she returned to the front porch and settled onto the cushioned seat of the swing, giving a little push with her feet to start it in motion.

The air smelled of fresh-turned earth, green grass, and flowers in bloom. The mountains of southern Idaho were enjoying warm weather, although snow could be seen on the highest peaks to the north and east of Bethlehem Springs.

Gwen loved this small town. She loved her neighbors, the children who came for lessons, the women in her church sewing circle. She loved the long, narrow valley, the river that flowed through it, and the tree-covered mountains that overlooked it all. She loved the sense of the old West and the new century that surrounded her, horses and automobiles, outhouses and indoor plumbing, wood-burning stoves and electric lights.

Her mother, Elizabeth Arlington, hadn’t felt the same about Idaho. She despised everything about it, so much so that after four years of marriage, she’d left her husband and returned to her parents’ home in Hoboken, New Jersey, taking two-year-old Gwen with her.

“Be thankful, Guinevere,” her mother said on many an occasion over the years, “that your father allowed you to come with me. We’re alike, you and I. We need society and fine culture. Think of the advantages you’ve had that poor Cleopatra has gone without. The opera and the theater. Fine schooling. You would never be suited to live in that backwater town where your father chose to settle.”

But her mother was wrong. Bethlehem Springs did suit Gwen — a truth she discovered soon after her arrival in Idaho seven years before. At the age of twenty-one, and with the reluctant blessing of her mother, she had come to Idaho to meet the father and sister she couldn’t remember. She hadn’t intended to stay, but in a few short weeks she’d fallen in love with the area. Her heart felt at home here as it never had in New Jersey.

A frown puckered her forehead. What would happen to Bethlehem Springs if Hiram Tattersall became its mayor? He wouldn’t try to better their schools or improve roads or help those who had lost jobs due to mine closings. And if the governor of the state succeeded in passing prohibition in Idaho, as many thought he would, Tattersall wouldn’t enforce it in Bethlehem Springs. She was convinced of that.

I would do a better job than he would.

But of course she had no intention of running for mayor.

No intention whatsoever.

***

Morgan McKinley wanted nothing more than to punch that artificial smile off Harrison Carter’s face.

“You’ll have to wait until after the election, Mr. McKinley. I’m sorry. The new mayor and the county commissioners must be in agreement on these matters.”

Before Morgan did something he would regret—something that would get him tossed into the jail one floor below — he bid a hasty farewell and left the commissioner’s chambers. When he exited the municipal building, he paused on the sidewalk long enough to draw a calming breath.

Harrison Carter had delayed this decision for personal reasons, not for anything to do with an election. Several times over the past year, the commissioner had offered to buy the land where New Hope was being built. If he thought these delays would change Morgan’s mind about selling, he was in for a big disappointment.

With a grunt of frustration, he turned and headed for his automobile, parked on the west side of the sandstone building. Fagan Doyle, Morgan’s business manager and good friend, leaned against the back of the car, his pipe clenched between his teeth.

“Well?” Fagan cocked an eyebrow.

Morgan shook his head.

“Then I’ll be asking what it is you mean to do about it?”

“I don’t know yet.”

Morgan got behind the wheel of the Model T while Fagan moved to the crank. Once the engine started, Fagan slid into the passenger seat and closed the door. Morgan turned the automobile around and followed Main Street out to the main road, thankful his friend didn’t ask more questions. He needed to think.

Occasional complications and delays were expected when a man undertook a large building project, but this felt different. Morgan had half expected Harrison to ask for money under the table, but that hadn’t happened. Just as well since Morgan wasn’t the sort who bribed public officials. Nor allowed himself to be blackmailed by them. Not under any circumstance.

Twenty minutes later, the Touring Car arrived on the grounds of what would one day be a unique resort—the New Hope Health Spa. The main lodge had taken shape at the upper end of the compound. Morgan no longer needed to study the architectural renderings to imagine what it would look like when finished.

He wished his mother had lived to see it. This spa had been her dream before it became his.

Before the automobile rolled to a stop, the site foreman, Christopher Vance, ran toward them. “Morgan, we’ve got a problem”

Another one? “What is it?”

“The dam on Crow’s Creek. It’s leaking. I’m not sure it’ll hold. I’ve got a crew up there now working on it.”

Morgan’s gaze shifted toward the narrow road at the east end of the compound. About a mile up they’d built the dam that would provide and control the cold water used in conjunction with the natural hot water from the springs.

“I’d better see it for myself. Hop in,” he said to the two men, “and we’ll drive up there.”

If that dam broke, a good portion of the resort compound could end up covered in several inches of water. Not the end of the world, but it would stop construction until things dried out. Another delay.

“Somebody did this, Morgan,” Christopher added. “It’s no accident.”

He frowned at his foreman. “Are you sure?”

“Sure enough.”

Why would anyone want to sabotage the dam? It was deep into his property, and he hadn’t diverted water that was needed by anyone else. No farmers or ranchers were dependent upon the flow of Crow’s Creek. He’d made sure of that.

Could Harrison Carter be behind it?

On her way to the Daily Herald with her latest article, Gwen stopped by the mercantile to inquire about Helen Humphrey. The poor woman had suffered with severe back pain for more than two months, and nothing she’d tried had relieved it.

“The doctors say rest is the only thing that’ll help,” Bert Humphrey told Gwen. “And even then they’re not sure she’ll ever be without pain. Maybe the health spa that fellow’s building will do her some good. Nothing else has. Not that we could afford it. Something that fancy’s bound to cost more than we could come up with.”

“I’m so sorry to hear you don’t have better news, Mr. Humphrey.
But, no matter what it costs, do you really believe taking the
waters would help her? I’m afraid I’m somewhat skeptical.”

“I don’t know. I’d try just about anything at this point.”

Gwen offered a sympathetic smile. “Please tell Helen I’ll make
some of my chicken and dumplings and bring it over.”

He swept a hand over his balding head. “She hasn’t had much
appetite, but I know we’ll be glad for it, all the same.”

“I’ll keep her in my prayers.”

“We’d appreciate it.”

Gwen bid the proprietor a good day, then left the store. As
she walked along Wallula Street toward the newspaper office, her
thoughts remained on the resort. There were varying feelings in
Bethlehem Springs about the construction of the spa ten miles to
the north. Many people thought it would be good for the town;
quite a few local men were already employed as carpenters and
general laborers. Other townsfolk thought the resort would change
Bethlehem Springs for the worse, bringing in too many outsiders.
Of course, there were a few in town who thought the spa would
fail, so what did it matter?

Gwen didn’t know what to believe. She’d never frequented a spa, although she had gone with Cleo a few times to sit in one of the
natural hot springs on their father’s ranch. Enjoyable, to be sure,
but was it a cure for physical ailments? For all she knew, McKinley
was a snake oil salesman of the worst kind, offering a cure to the
hopeless — a cure that didn’t exist.

There was also the matter of McKinley being a newcomer to
the area. No local had heard of him until he arrived in the area a
year ago. And although the wealthy Easterner had purchased the
old Hampstead home on Skyview Street, it sat empty. Folks said
the new owner was at the resort site every day of the week, coming
into town only long enough to send a telegram, pick up his mail,
and purchase supplies. Not once had he spent the night in town.

“The time I met him, he was genial enough,” Nathan Patterson,
owner and editor of the Daily Herald, had said once. “A
newspaper friend of mine from Boston says the McKinley family
is among the wealthiest in America. Doesn’t it seem odd that he
would end up here, of all places?”

“Thinks himself too good for the likes of us, I gather.” That
had been Edna Updike’s opinion — something Gwen’s neighbor
never hesitated to share. “He doesn’t even go to church. A heathen, no doubt.”

“Not much mail ever,” Dedrik Finster, the postmaster, had said
in Gwen’s presence just a week ago. “He is mystery, ja?”

Arriving at the newspaper office, Gwen shook off thoughts of
the resort and the mysterious Morgan McKinley. “Hello, Mr. Patterson,” she said as she stepped through the doorway.

“Ah, there you are, Miss Arlington. I was wondering when
you would have your column for me. What’s your story about this
time?”

“The expansion of educational opportunities for women in the
past fifty years and the importance of women taking advantage of them. Did you know, Mr. Patterson, that there were only five women lawyers or notaries in 1870 but almost fifteen thousand by 1910?”

Nathan shook his head. “Not sure I think women should be
lawyers.”

“Why not? A woman doesn’t have an inferior mind. She is as
able to grasp the written law as any man. Deborah was a judge in
Israel, if you’ll recall. And if a woman is widowed, isn’t it better
that she have an education and a profession that will allow her to
support herself and her children rather than to be dependent upon
the generosity of relatives or her church?”

“Well, of course. But — ”

“But not in a man’s profession?” She offered a smile, taking the bite out of her question.

“You have me there, Miss Arlington.” He chuckled. “There is certainly nothing inferior about your mind.”

“Thank you.” She held out the carefully penned pages.

Nathan took them. As he glanced down at some other papers
on his desk, he muttered, “Wish I could say the same for our one
and only candidate for mayor. Tattersall.” He growled in disgust.
“I can’t figure why no one else has stepped forward to run against
him. The election will be here before we know it.”

Cleo’s words echoed in Gwen’s thoughts: “Why don’t you run
for office, Gwennie?” She ignored the shiver of excitement that raced up her spine and posed her sister’s question to the newspaperman. “Why don’t you run for office, Mr. Patterson?”

“Politics wouldn’t suit me. I’m better reporting the news than
making it.”

“Not a reason in the world you couldn’t do it,” Cleo’s voice whispered in her head.

Gwen glanced at the pages in the editor’s hands. She’d written the article to encourage women to step forward, to better themselves, to make a difference in the society in which they lived. Was it possible God had been speaking to her even as she wrote those words to other women?

Softly, she said, “My sister thinks I should run.”

Nathan stared at her.

“It’s a silly notion, of course.” Her heart hammered and her
pulse raced. “I told Cleo it was.”

Wordlessly, he leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin with
his right hand. “Silly?” A long pause, then, “I’m not so sure it is.”

“You’re not?” Her throat felt parched.

“Isn’t a woman mayor a little like a woman judge?” He shot
up from his chair, knuckles resting on the top of the desk. “Do it,
Miss Arlington. Run for mayor. The newspaper will put its support
behind your candidacy.”

“But Mr. Patterson, I’ve never held public office before. Why would you support me?”

“My gut tells me you would do what needs to be done. You’re articulate and well educated. You obviously aren’t afraid to speak out when you see a problem the community needs to address. You’ve done so often enough in your columns.”

She wished she hadn’t spoken. She wished she’d kept her thoughts to herself.

“Do it, Miss Arlington. The town will be grateful. And I must
admit it would give me plenty of interesting things to write about in the coming weeks. Never been a woman mayor that I know of.” He jotted a note on a slip of paper. “I’ll have to look that up. Wouldn’t it be something if we were the first?”

“I haven’t said I’ll do it yet.”

“Think about what it’ll be like here if Tattersall’s elected.”

Gwen took a step back from his desk. “I . . . I’ll want to pray
about it and . . . and talk to my father.”

“Of course. Of course. You do that. But I’m telling you, Miss
Arlington, you should do this.”
***


Fortunately, Christopher Vance’s worst fears weren’t realized. The
damage appeared less serious than first perceived. By late afternoon, the crew of men had stabilized the dam on Crow’s Creek. More permanent repairs would be undertaken in the morning.

Later that evening, after the camp cook had served dinner and
the men were settling in for the night, Morgan walked up the draw
at the north end of the compound and sat on a log where he was
afforded a view of the resort site. Behind him and across from him,
ponderosa and lodgepole pines blanketed the steep mountainsides. Wondrous. Awesome. God’s handiwork revealed for all to see. Morgan had traveled many places around the world, seen many beautiful things, but few had come close to stirring his heart the
way this place did.

His gaze was drawn to the lodge. Four stories tall, the exterior
was made of logs, giving it a rugged, western look. But the interior
would be anything but austere. The plans called for fine wall coverings, elegant carpets, original artwork to satisfy the senses, and large, comfortable guest rooms. The kitchen would have all the latest innovations, a place where the resort’s chef would create meals for lodgers that were both healthy and delicious.

On the opposite side of the clearing from the lodge, work had
begun on the bathhouse and the two pools that would be fed by
the natural hot springs on the property. The bathhouse was fashioned after some of the European spas Morgan had visited with his mother — private bathing rooms with large, porcelain tubs and two steam rooms, one for men and one for women. But there would be one major difference between New Hope and those European resorts. Morgan’s spa would be a place for prayer as well as for relaxation, a place for both spiritual and physical healing. In fact, he was sitting near where the resort’s Danielle McKinley Prayer Chapel would stand.

“What good is physical health,” his mother had often said to him, “if one’s soul is sick?”

iGod, I believe You gave the vision for this place to my mother. Help me make it become all that You desire.

On the heels of his prayer, he thought of Harrison Carter. Why was the man set against him, against this resort? Was it all because Morgan had refused to sell the land? Surely Carter saw how the resort would benefit Bethlehem Springs. The railroad. Telephone lines and electrical power. All of which would benefit the people
who lived here. Morgan knew he’d find a way to get what he needed, but it would be difficult if the town and county tied up the lands where the railroad needed to come through.

“If I had a hand in making the laws, things would be easier for honest businessmen.”

If I had a hand in making the laws . . .

He stiffened.

If I had a hand in making the laws.

No, that couldn’t be the answer.

And yet . . .

If I had a hand in making the laws.

Bethlehem Springs was gearing up for a mayoral election. From what little he’d heard, there was only one candidate — and not one people were happy about. Morgan was a citizen of the town. He must be eligible to declare for office.

“The new mayor and the county commissioners must be in agreement on these matters.”

What better way to make certain the new mayor supported Morgan’s plans than for Morgan to be the mayor. Still, that was a bit drastic. There had to be a better way. Besides, he had no desire to run for office. God had brought him to Idaho for a different purpose. He didn’t have time to devote to the day-to-day administration of a town like Bethlehem Springs. Governmental bodies were a necessary evil, but not one he need be part of.

And yet . . .

He cast a glance toward the sky. “Father, is this what You’re telling me to do?”

Choices

"A King may move a man, a father may claim a son, but remember that even when those who move you be Kings, or men of power, your soul is in your keeping alone. When you stand before God, you cannot say, 'But I was told by others to do thus.' Or that, 'Virtue was not convenient at the time.' This will not suffice. Remember that. –King Baldwin IV, Kingdom of Heaven (2005)

This week I was a part of something bigger than myself, where I had to state whether I believed a man is responsible for his own behavior, even if he had a "bad childhood." I do believe that it is hard to go against those who would threaten you with death without compliance, or that sometimes the lure of easy money and pleasure woos strongly. Our ancestors, "Adam and Eve," failed when temptation became so great they would not resist. Note that I said would not.

We still have a choice. Eat the double chocolate raspberry chambord cake, or stick to your eating/health plan. Sneak out into the night against your parents' wishes or stay home to do homework. Speed instead of following the law.Covet your neighbor's wife or car when you already have a wife (or car!) Follow God or divert from His path for you and give in to the ways of man and the world.

It's really a series of little choices, but then one day you come to the big choice. In this case the man in question made a long series of choices which led to his downfall, but his pattern of living is what became his downfall. Evidence was overwhelming and he left many witnesses to a continued series of bad choices. In the end his choices hurt us all and some much more than others.

But I was really proud of the many I observed during this week who chose wisely and bravely. Theirs were not easy choices. One even took 13 bullets to his body (two still are in his body) for making his choice to be on the right side of the law, but I got the feeling he would've made those same choices again, even knowing what the outcome would be. Just because you do the right thing does not mean that your life suddenly becomes easy--sometimes it becomes worse.He has many trials ahead of him, as it is not over.


At the end of the day I had some choices to make of my own, but I went home (under protected circumstances) feeling I had made the right choices that day. I could rest easy. (Though I'm ever wiser and keenly alert to my surroundings.)

Choose this day whom you will serve. Avoiding the choice will not get you out of it. No choice is a choice, too.

How Did You Get Started Writing?

I just got through speaking at Eastbrook High School to a class of creative writing students. They were very polite and listened, but I'm sure what I told them was overwhelming. It usually is when you first start thinking about writing for publication. Sometimes you have to hear the same things several times before it becomes a part of you.

I wish that every writer who wanted to be published could be published. That is not reality. You start with an idea--maybe something from your past, maybe something that happened, or maybe just something that intrigues you. Sometimes it takes years for a story to get published, but one thing is certain--you have to serve an apprenticeship and learn. And whether you are someone who has 75 books published, or are just publishing your first book, or are still trying to find that place to write--all writers have to learn and start somewhere and must continue to learn.

The students at Eastbrook asked some great questions. In doing so, I hope that they learned a little about themselves. The first question was "How did you get started?" Ask this question of authors and writers, and some answers will be the same, and some different.

I started off my writing journey in my freshman year of high school. I published a poem and seeing my own byline was a rush.Then, I got on the newspaper staff as sports editor and art editor in my senior year. Those articles were sent in to Ball State University and I won a journalism scholarship.

"Almost all good writing begins with terrible first efforts. You need to start somewhere," so says Anne Lamott in Bird by Bird, as she describes what her father tells her brother whom has a rough start when trying to get going on a school project about birds. "Just take it bird by bird," her father, also a writer, told him. "Do one bird, then do the next." Writing is like that.

I stuttered along in the years following college doing newsletters for organizations, curriculum material in my teaching, had four boys of my own, and taking a course here and there in writing. Then, when I was 40 years old, I took a professional writing class at Taylor University. That is really where I got my start. Dr. Dennis E. Hensley pushed us to publish. Early on in the class, when I barely knew him, we were on a break in the hall and he walked right into my "personal" space.

"I hate you," he said. I think he scowled.

"Really?" I didn't know what to make of this, but I'd heard he was a Vietnam War vet and it crossed my mind that this could get ugly.

"Why," and I laughed for effect, "do you hate me, Dr. Hensley?" I made a point to not move away from him.

And then he passionately proceeded to tell me what I had done to him, the reader of my story, to evoke such an extreme distaste for what I'd written. In that moment I knew he cared about what I had written and wanted it to be better. It WAS personal. It was personal to him, the reader. It was personal to me, the writer. And between us we needed to come to an understanding. That is what writing is--a communication between the author and the reader. It is just the two of you in that space--that very personal space.

If you write, tell me how YOU got started.I'll be sharing with you the questions the students had for me and a little of what I shared with them, too.

Wachareadin'?

It's true that back in the day (my day) we spent a lot more time outside. In the summer months I spent some of that outdoor time sitting on blanket under a tree reading. It was too hot in the house back in the day before air conditioning. I read everything I could get my hands on. I didn't like everything I read, but reading did something--it took me away from the life I was living at that moment. I imagined my life substituted into the POV and became the proverbial "fly on the wall."

I've been doing some introspection on just what is it I do. I was a teacher, even when I was in elementary school. My teachers always put me in charge of other kids, either reading to them or having me listen to them read. When I was just a kid in elementary school I went to a two-room church school and we had eight grades in those rooms. Instead of doing my school work in the class, I'd sit there listening to all the other classes and then take all of my classwork home. I was in second grade before the teacher finally figured out what I was doing.

We prayed for missionaries and world leaders, other kids, our families and other items the teacher laid out for us, and one person we always included were the "colporters." All I knew about these colporters were that they were some sort of book missionary. They took books to people who might not know these books existed, and they introduced reading and books in faraway lands, too. I thought that would be the best job of all! One of the main reasons I became an elementary teacher was to work with students in reading. I taught children who had difficulty reading, children who were learning English as a second language and also worked with high school students who had difficulties with reading. I could think of no better mission in life.

I am still influencing readers. I also read manuscripts for various reasons, but mainly to bring that manuscript to book form. (I hope.) And I still love books and bringing those books to readers who would like them.

When I was teaching sixth grade, every day after lunch I'd have the kids relax while I read a chapter from a book I'd choose from the library. When we'd finish a book, I'd take them to the library and return the book I'd read. The librarian asked me one day, "What are you doing in that classroom? Kids are requesting the book you check out in droves! I can't keep up with them." Influencing readers is a great joy for me.

The irony in all of this? My dad, who died back in 1999, was a functional illiterate. I did try helping him (he asked me to) and he was reading through the Bible (The Living Bible) when he died. My mom, an avid reader, had covered for him plenty, and he was so smart, he did what many people do when they have trouble reading--he compensated.

This blog really isn't changing much. It still will encompass my passions. I'm a book scout, and whether the topic of conversation involves reading favorites, pointing out books, how to write books, or just what is IN the books, reading is fundamental to everything included here.

Hope you will come back to share what you're reading, what you are writing, or simply to consider what is included here.

So--wachareadin'?

Pelicans and Jesus

I've always been a bird watcher, due to my mother's influence. We had tons of bird identification books and since I also loved to sketch, I drew tons of bird pictures. I can't keep descriptions or tie-ins with birds out of my fiction. It's as much a part of me as anything else. Plus, it keeps me tied to my mother, who died in 1997.

So, I have been doing some more reading about birds and came across an obscure tidbit that Dante referred to Christ Jesus as "our pelican." That's weird! Have you ever seen a pelican? It is not exactly the kind of bird you depict Christ with. Ok, so then I came across more referrals to pelicans being the symbol of Jesus's resurrection.

Certainly the Bible refers to birds often. The birds we most often think of are eagles and sparrows. But pelicans are often depicted on ecclesiastical coats of arms and in religious paintings. If you are an art lover, you will find them, so now you can notice them. And then there's the Mighty Dante talking about "Christ BEING our pelican." Why would he say that?

Here's the story: the name "pelican" comes from a Greek word for "axe." Because the pelican had a very large beak and uses it to fish, as well as in diving for fish,(using it like a net) their behavior was quite a picture for an observer. The pelican ejects the water and swallows the fish for its own nourishment .The pouch doesn't keep the fish for long, but during nesting season, it also becomes a "school" and place to feed the chicks. This next part is gross, but no one says that the story of the cross is pleasant, either. Pelicans also use that pouch to hold regurgitated fish soup to feed their chicks. The chicks have to DIVE into that pouch (their first lessons in survival) which is against the chest of the pelican. This is where the legends were born in observing this behavior.It must have been alarming to those who first witnessed this practice. Since the pelican will pluck the feathers from its own chest for the nest, it has a bloody chest during this time. In medieval religious folklore the pelican fed her young with her own blood, by plucking those feathers from her breast, and "reviving" the chicks after they drowned in the pelican's beak.It seems that those chicks were believed to drink the blood of the self-inflicted wound on the pelican's breast.

It is certainly a painful process. In this story the chicks die (in the mouth/tomb of the parent) but are brought back to life (3-days later) by that self-inflicted wound on the chest, by allowing them to drink the parent pelican's blood. That correlation is how the pelican got into all those religious paintings, on family crests for Christian piety and into works by Dante. The pelican became a lesson, a symbol, for Christ's resurrection from the dead.

That's some legend! And some picture. But it's not unusual for humans to use birds to teach us lessons about life. The pelican story illustrates one of the most awesome stories in human history. It takes faith for those chicks to dive into the mouth of a mother pelican for sustenance. It takes faith for one of us to believe that Jesus deliberately took the wounds inflicted to die on a despicable cross just to pay for our sins and revive us from eternal death. That was too much to ask, wasn't it? But not if you wanted survival of a species more than anything--and that pull was way stronger than Jesus wanting to save himself. Three days later Jesus would rise up from the dead and that was it! We were nourished for eternity.

If you haven't embraced Jesus and his story, then think about how God gives lessons in the nature all around us. Remember the pelican today on Good Friday. And remember that God has lessons for you all around.

Soaring with the Eagle

The Bald Eagle was chosen for our national seal because of his power in flight, his longevity, and because the Bible mentions the eagle numerous times, including John who preached about its rebirth and power. It took from 1776 to 1782 to design the seal, and the founding fathers put a conciliatory olive branch in its right talon.



This is a music video featuring a special free-flying Bald Eagle named 'Challenger' (in honor of the lost space shuttle crew) cared for by the non-profit American Eagle Foundation (AEF).


He's a 'human socialized' bird raised by the people who rescued him when he was blown from a wild Louisiana nest in a storm as a baby in the late 1980s.

Declared 'non-releasable' by federal and state wildlife authorities, he was trained by the AEF to perform educational free-flight demonstrations at high profile public events.

He's the first Bald Eagle in U.S.history that learned to free-fly into stadiums, arenas and ballrooms during the singing of the Star Spangled Banner. The celebrity eagle has appeared at numerous major sporting events,like the World Series, Pro-Bowl, All-Star game, BCS National Championship, Fiesta Bowl and Men's Final Four, etc. Challenger has also flown before 4 U.S.Presidents. His life's story is told in a children's storybook titled Challenger, America's Eagle.

But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar like eagles...Isaiah 40:31 (NIV)

Just When You Think It's Over...

In the past couple months I have had "growing pains" where I knew I needed to be doing something, but not sure which direction I should go. Praying about it, but not seeing clearly what to do. I have been writing, but it's been flat. I went so far as to think that what I was doing wasn't worth anything. And I wondered if maybe God was through using me and whatever gifts I had used in the past. O ye of little faith! I have often wondered if I was a bit like Peter--I'd jump out of the boat and then panic and sink! (Reach up and keep your eyes on Jesus. Oh. Simple. ha)

I saw this quote as I perused through some old quotes and put it up on my Facebook page and Twitter:

"The person born with a talent they are meant to use will find their greatest happiness in using it." - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

It goes along with my own Christian faith on spiritual gifts--that God gives us gifts and we will feel joy as a Christian in using those gifts. So, it caused me to pray in more specific ways.

And within 24 hours, I had opportunities AND a deep yearning to revive my own writing with new purpose. When you wrestle with the Lord (a reference here to Jacob,) then you must mark the ground as a place that is holy in your life.

What is the most delightful (and there are several other things that came in) is I get to reconnect with those people who were part of my childhood and my own spiritual development. Maybe I'll get to talk about that.

Anyway, I wanted you all to know that I so appreciated your warm comments and your prayers for me. It encouraged me. I hope that I can continue to encourage all of you, too.

Markers

Do you know how it is when you've got lots and lots of people and things going on around you, but you feel desperately like you're out of place?

I've been feeling that a lot lately. Like I shouldn't be here and maybe it was a big mistake to just keep hanging in there. And so sad that I am missing out on lives and things going on. And that I ache all the time for...something...not sure what!

Ok, so I opened a vein here and while I don't know what the road is ahead of me, I took a snapshot of this one moment to remember. It's like a marker.

The above photo is of my grandparents, Roy and Pauline, and my brother and me. We went to one of those photo booths because they wanted photos of us and my parents wanted photos of them and they didn't have a camera. So they jammed into the booth and you can see the sadness on my grandparents' faces. Soon they would leaving to go back to Tennessee and we would be far away from them in Indiana. My grandparents had me for several years as their own, but then my mother got well and took me back--I don't think they ever thought that she would survive. It was a moment I would've forgotten if not for this photo that I have. Well, maybe I would have forgotten it. Maybe not.

This is why I haven't posted lately. I really have been feeling out of place and like I have no purpose. I'm restless and anxious to get going.

Just marking this place so I won't forget.

Robert Liparulo Contest

Robert Liparulo has written several thrillers and now there is a contest to enter. Below is the instructions on how to enter from the web site The Christian Manifesto.



Beginning March 23rd The Christian Manifesto will be hosting “Robert Liparulo Week.” In addition to our standard daily content, we will be posting excerpts from Liparulo’s recent Dreamhouse Kings young adult series and his upcoming sequel to Deadfall, the heart-stopping Deadlock, exclusive written and audio interviews, reviews of his past titles, a review of Deadlock, and an expansive contest. This is where YOU come in:

Starting TODAY, in a partnership with Robert Liparulo and his publisher, Thomas Nelson Publishers, The Christian Manifesto is running a HUGE giveaway (did we mention HUGE?):

25 random winners will receive an autographed copy of Deadlock and an autographed copy House of Dark Shadows
Everyone (yes we said EVERYONE) who enters will have the opportunity to be a part of the Robert Liparulo Street Team
Thomas Nelson will send each person a package with 10 copies of Comes a Horseman and a letter from Robert Liparulo.
Street Team members will give out those books asking that each friend will read and post a review on a major retail site (Amazon, Barnes and Noble, etc.)
Street Team members will encourage anyone who enjoys Comes a Horseman to show their support by going out and purchasing Deadlock.

To enter send an email to tcmcontest@gmail.com and provide us with the following info:
“Robert Liparulo Contest” as title of email
Your name
Your mailing address
If applicable- The name of a friend who told you about the contest (each person who enters will receive an extra entry for every friend that enters based on their recommendation)
Let us know if you want to be a part of the Robert Liparulo Street Team.
Let us know how you found out about this contest.
Winners will be notified by email and announced on our site every day of Robert Liparulo Week (March 23rd - March 27th)

CONTEST OFFICIALLY ENDS ON MARCH 22, 2009 AT 11:59PM EST. ANY ENTRIES RECEIVED AFTER THIS POINT WILL BE DISCARDED.

Nine Letter Word Riddle

What nine-letter word in the English language remains an English word as you remove one letter at a time?

Answer here:

Three Things...

3 Things...

Three Names I go by
1. Crystal
2. Momma
3. Mrs. "Mill"

Three Jobs I have had in my life
1. Teacher, P.E. and Elementary classroom
2. Coach, track and basketball
3. Freelance editor/book doc/reader/columnist


Three Places I have lived
1. Wayne County, Tennessee
2.Fairmount, Indiana
3. Indianapolis, Indiana

Three TV Shows that I watch
1. The First 48 Hours
2. Cops
3. House

Three places I have been
1. to college
2. to the hospital in an ambulance
3. to an international trapshooting competition to compete

3 People that e-mail me regularly
1. Sharon
2. Jan
3. LeAnne

Three of my favorite foods
1. chicken salad (Ivanhoe's is best! with fruit)
2. Cara's scones
3. Fage Greek yogurt

Three things I would like to do
1. Finish and submit my fiction manuscript
2. live all year round in my own cabin in the woods
3. Write a memoir-style book using many people's stories, recipes and childhood photos

Three friends I think will respond
1. Probably
2. No
3. One!

3 Things I am looking forward to
1. trip to Brown County
2. Boys getting jobs they love, living great lives
3. Sitting on the porch of that cabin and drinking coffee

Three things I hate
1. Cancer
2. Migraines
3. Someone biting and spitting their fingernails

Three favorite sounds
1. Jordan singing his songs (that he wrote)
2. my friends and family playing music
3. birds singing









Three favorite movies
1. Groundhog Day
2. Forest Gump
3. Second-hand Lions

Three places I would never go (again)
1.The Mill, a restaurant
2. New Orleans
3. to live in Indianapolis

Three favorite animals
1. Westie dogs
2. birds
3. moose

Three things I will never be
1. a champion trapshooter (sad sigh)
2. able to see well without glasses of some sort
3. young again

Three things I like to do
1. stay in a log cabin in a secluded woods, but close enough to go to good restaurants
2. have dinner with the boys and Chris because they're so funny and make me laugh
3. read a really good novel...staying up all night and then sleeping off my word-fest stupor in the morning

Can you tell me 3 of your things?

What Kind of Car Are You?

I love cars. I can tell stories about the ones I have been acquainted with. I even won a writing contest one time writing about the car my dad helped me to pick out. 

So, I fell for taking this test. This is the kind of car I am, evidently. What do you think??!

I'm a Lamborghini Murcielago!

You're not subtle, but you don't want to be. Fast, loud, and dramatic, you want people to notice you, and then get out of the way. In a world full of sheep, you're a raging bull.

Take the Which Sports Car Are You? quiz.

You Like Cats? I'm Mad About Cats...

This is a funny site online. I posted it for my friend, Nancy, today. She has a gorgeous cat named Katerina. Check out Nancy's blog and her art books that she makes on her Etsy site, too.



more animals

Salt Water Taffie by Janice Hanna and desserts!

I almost picked lemon meringue because I love lemon and lime desserts, but honestly, creme brulee is first, and strawberry shortcake is second. I like cherry things, too.

Now, are you ready to hear your diagnosis?

Remember, this is all in good fun(we need some of that, don't we?) and to take it with a grain of salt! (But there may be a bit of ginger peachy truth tucked into each...)

1. ANGEL FOOD CAKE -- Sweet, loving, cuddly You love all warm and fuzzy items. A little nutty at times. Sometimes you need an ice cream cone at the end of the day. Others perceive you as being childlike and immature at times.

2. BROWNIES -- You are adventurous, love new ideas, and are a champion of underdogs and a slayer of dragons. When tempers flare up you whip out your saber. You are always the oddball with a unique sense of humor and direction. You tend to be very loyal.

3. LEMON MERINGUE -- Smooth, sexy, &articulate with your hands, you are an excellent after-dinner speaker and a good teacher. But don't try to walk and chew gum at the same time. A bit of a diva at times, but you have many friends.

4. VANILLA CAKE WITH CHOCOLATE ICING -- Fun-loving, sassy, humorous, not very grounded in life; very indecisive and lack motivation. Everyone enjoys being around you, but you are a practical joker. Others should be cautious in making you mad. However, you are a friend for life.

5. STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE -- Romantic, warm, loving. You care about other people, can be counted on in a pinch and expect the same in return. Intuitively keen. Can be very emotional.

6. CHOCOLATE ON CHOCOLATE -- Sexy; always ready to give and receive. Very creative, adventurous, ambitious, and passionate. You can appear to have a cold exterior but are warm on the inside. Not afraid to take chances. Will not settle for anything average in life. Love to laugh.

7. ICE CREAM -- You like sports, whether it be baseball, football, basketball, or soccer. If you could, you would like to participate, but you enjoy watchingsports. You don't like to give up the remote control. You tend to be self-centered and high maintenance.

8. CARROT CAKE -- You are a very fun loving person, who likes to laugh. You are fun to be with. People like to hang out with you. You are a very warm hearted person and a little quirky at times. You have many loyal friends.


The winner of Janice Hanna (Thompson's) new Heartsong Presents book, Salt Water Taffie is my fellow strawberry shortcake lover, Cathy S.! No doubt Cathy has tasted Ivanhoe's strawberry shortcake, unless she is just a titan in self-control. I like mine with the soft serve ice cream they have.

Thanks to everyone who commented!

What Dessert Are YOU?

If all of the desserts listed below were sitting in front of you, which would you choose (sorry, you can only pick one!)

Now don't cheat on this one, go with the first dessert you choose!!! (pretty sad when grown people cheat.)




Supposedly this is very accurate. Pick your dessert, and then tune in tomorrow to see what psychiatrists think about you.(Do I really wanna do that??)

After taking this dessert personality test,post your choice in the comments below.

Here are your choices:


1. Angel Food Cake
2. Brownies
3. Lemon Meringue Pie
4. Vanilla Cake With Chocolate Icing
5. Strawberry Short Cake
6. Chocolate on Chocolate
7 Ice Cream
8. Carrot Cake

No!!! You can't change your mind.

OK - Now that you've made your choice this is what the research says about you...


TOMORROW!

And you are in a drawing for Janice Hanna's Salt Water Taffie (Barbour) if you leave a comment and your contact email (nameATispdotcom) This is a brand new book by someone who you may have known in the past as Janice A. Thompson. Because her father died of bone marrow cancer recently, Janice decided to write under her maiden name--Hanna--in memory of him.

I'll tell you my choice tomorrow, too. Yum!

I ran over my science teacher in an elevator because my family thinks I'm stupid, anyway.

Writers sometimes need prompts. Here are some for you. Is this formula writing??


Type out the sentence you end up with in the TITLE of your blog or in the comments below.



Pick the month you were born:
January-------I kicked
February------I loved
March--------I karate chopped
April----------I licked
May----------I jumped on
June----------I smelled
July-----------I did the Macarena With
August--------I had lunch with
September----I danced with
October-------I sang to
November-----I yelled at
December-----I ran over

Pick the day (number) you were born on:
1-------a birdbath
2-------a monster
3-------a phone
4-------a fork
5-------a snowman
6-------a gangster
7-------my mobile phone
8-------my dog
9-------my best friends' boyfriend
10-------my neighbour
11-------my science teacher
12-------a banana
13-------a fireman
14-------a stuffed animal
15-------a goat
16-------a pickle
17-------your mom
18-------a spoon
19------ - a smurf
20-------a baseball bat
21-------a ninja
22-------Chuck Norris
23-------a noodle
24-------a squirrel
25-------a football player
26-------my sister
27-------my brother
28-------an iPod
29-------a surfer
30-------a homeless guy
31-------a llama

What is the last number of the year you were born:
1--------- In my car
2 --------- On your car
3 ----------- In a hole
4 ----------- Under your bed
5 ----------- Riding a Motorcycle
6 --------- sliding down a hill
7 --------- in an elevator
8---------- at the dinner table
9 -------- In line at the bank
0 -------- in your bathroom

Pick the color of shirt you are wearing:
White---------because I'm cool like that
Black---------because that's how I roll.
Pink-----------because I'm NOT crazy.
Red-----------because the voices told me to.
Blue-----------because I'm sexy and I do what I want
Green---------because I think I need some serious help.
Purple---------because I'm AWESOME!
Gray----------because Big Bird said to and he's my leader.
Yellow--------because someone offered me 1,000,000 dollars
Orange--------because my family thinks I'm stupid anyway.
Brown---------because I can.
Other----------because I'm a Ninja!
None----------because I can't control myself!

Now type out the sentence you made.

I can't wait to see what you get stuck with!

Age Before Beauty by Virginia Smith

One of the favorite aspects of my job is to get books to read. Someone once said that since they'd learned to write fiction that it ruined reading for them--they always wanted to edit or fix the books they now read. Not true with me. Unless I'm reading a book for review or judging, I really can let myself be lost in the story, just for fun.

My friend, Ginny Smith, writes such books that allow me to kick back and just read for the fun of it. Her books are fun and about real life. Her latest book in her Sister-to-Sister series just came out, Age before Beauty (by Virginia Smith, Revell.)

About the book:
Age before Beauty (Book 2 in the Sister-to-Sister Series)

Desperate to stay home with her baby, Allie Harrod launches a new career. Sure, she dropped out of Girl Scouts because she was lousy at cookie sales, but makeup is different, right? She'll do anything to make enough money to cover her share of the household bills, but how can she focus on her business when her list of problems is growing? None of her pre-baby clothes fit, her checking account is dwindling, and her mother-in-law has decided to move in! To top it off, her husband's attractive coworker suddenly needs his help every weekend. Middle sister Joan insists that God has the answers to all her problems, but Allie isn't so sure. Can she really trust him?

Age before Beauty
By Virginia Smith
www.VirginiaSmith.org
Publisher: Revell
Paperback: 320 pages
ISBN: 978-800732332
Cover Price: $13.99


Ginny answered these questions about Age before Beauty to give you an idea of the way she goes about writing her novels, and this one in particular. If you are working on your own fiction, there are some things to learn about that process that she shares:

What was the inspiration behind Age before Beauty?

Allie is a typical older sister, used to controlling everyone and everything. Okay, I admit it – I’m the oldest of three sisters, so a lot of Allie’s struggles came straight from my own life. Also, my middle sister gave birth to a baby right before I started writing Age before Beauty,so of course some of her thoughts and feelings had to show up in the story as well. I had a lot of fun blending characteristics and experiences from both of us.


Do you often put yourself into your stories?

There’s a piece of me in every character I’ve ever written. If I’m going to write a believable character, one that resonates with a reader, I have to be able to get inside her head, and in order to do that I have to find some common ground with her. But often it’s just a minor element of commonality, and pretty soon the character’s personality begins to grow and take on unique qualities. Allie, for instance, is the ultimate problem solver, and that comes directly from me. But some of her conflicts—like with her mother-in-law, for instance—are all her own.


When a ‘rash’ appears on Joanie’s face, Allie panics. Have you ever
overreacted to a situation involving your child?

Yes, that’s one of the things I pulled from my own life. My ‘baby’ is twenty-six years old, so I had to dig into some pretty old memories. But I still remember how embarrassing it was to sit in the doctor’s office after an emergency phone call and have him tell me my infant was not dying of a terrible disease, but just had a case of gas.


Eric and Allie were raised in vastly different environments, and that
affects their marriage. Do you think that happens in real life?

Definitely. Children build expectations about their own romantic relationships based on what they saw growing up. So when our parents’ marriage fails, as Allie’s did, that’s bound to affect how we approach marriage. In Allie’s case, she sees similarities between Eric and her father, and she leaps to the conclusion that that Eric will one day leave her, as her father did. I had the same fears in the early years of my marriage. It took me several years of counseling and prayer, but I know
I serve a God who overcomes obstacles. Today my husband and I have a strong, thriving marriage.




Allie jumps head-first into a home sales business, selling makeup and
cleaning products. Any basis in reality from that situation?

Not personally. That element of the story came from the accumulated experiences of several young moms I know. One is my sister, of course, who yearned to stay home with her new baby. And one is a friend of my daughter’s who did quit her job and launched a makeup sales business in order to stay home with her infant. I’ll be honest about something–when I first got the idea for this story, I intended to poke a bit of fun at the ‘pyramid scheme’ type businesses. But a funny thing happened. This young mom loves her business, and she’s become wildly successful at it. She credits her business for changing her life in many ways. I interviewed several others who told me the same thing. My perception of that type of sales job totally changed. So the story became less about poking fun at that industry, and more about the extremes an obsessive personality will go to in order to accomplish her goals. I think the story is much better this way.


Is there an overall message in Age before Beauty?

Well, I didn’t set out to write a book with a message. I wanted to write an entertaining story with realistic characters that people can identify with. But I’m a Christian, and I write from a Christian worldview, so the hope I have in the Lord comes through in all my books. In Age before Beauty, I hope readers walk away with a renewed sense of assurance that God is in control, and that no problem is too tough for Him to handle.


Age before Beauty is the second book in the Sister-to-Sister Series,
following Stuck in the Middle, which was about the middle
Sanderson sister. But there are three sisters. Will there be another
book?

Absolutely! In fact, I just finished writing the first draft of Last but Not Least, which will hit bookstores in February of 2010. The central character is Tori, the youngest Sanderson sister, whose life is completely different than the other two. She’s a professional girl, a real ‘chick’ with a fetish for designer clothes. There are some really funny escapades in that book, and of course more of the heartwarming family relationships that I loved in the first two. Last but Not Least will wrap up the Sister-to-Sister Series, and I’ve thrown in a couple of surprises that I think readers will enjoy.




Virginia Smith left her job as a corporate director to become a full time writer and speaker with the release of her first novel Just As I Am. Since then she has contracted ten novels and published numerous articles and short stories. She writes contemporary humorous novels for the Christian market, including Murder by Mushroom, Stuck in the Middle, and her newest releases, A Taste of Murder and Age before Beauty.

In March of 2008 she was named "Writer of the Year" at Mount Hermon Christian Writers Conference. An energetic speaker, Virginia loves to exemplify God's truth by comparing real-life situations to well-known works of fiction, such as her popular talk, "Biblical Truths in Star Trek." Visit Ginny online at www.virginiasmith.org.

Entering a fiction writing contest? Be Strong and Courageous

This time of year many people are entering contests for their writing to be judged. The contestants enter for a myriad of reasons, but mostly they want to see how they're measuring up in the publishing world. Sometimes that is like hitting a moving target! But if you follow a few guidelines, you can get the most of the experience and walk about not too battered.

Having judged a few contests (as well as having judged manuscripts for agents and editors) I thought I would post a checklist to go over before sending out a fiction entry. You want to make the strongest showing that you can, but also realize that no matter what the final tally, you can take away comments from judges who can help you along on that journey to publication. I know plenty of writers who entered a writing contest, scored low, but kept writing and processing, and were published not long after the prizes were distributed. It happens. And plenty of high scored pieces have yet to make it to publication. No matter. You just turn in the best piece of writing that you can produce and see what flies.

1. What's the audience? Whatever the contest caters to (Christian, romance, mainstream, sci fi....) be aware that the judge is a part of that audience and will judge within the parameters of that market.

2. Does my entry fit the genre that I'm entering? If you are not sure, see if you can write a short synopsis or "back of the book" copy and decide if it'd fit on the shelf with that genre.

3. What is my theme? It should be a natural part of the piece. Find it, highlight it. The judge will find it, whether you know what it is or not. Theme will out. Theme should ask a question (and your piece answers it.) Even short pieces should have theme.

4. How's my pacing? Read it out loud. Listen to the cadence and the beats. You often catch things you wouldn't by reading it aloud.Make every word count.

5. Are my characters convincing? Even if your setting is totally out there in Siberia or on the Titania-Starship, you must suspend any disbelief and draw people into your world. Characters convince us it's real.

6. Show or Tell? Don't tell the judge--show him.

7. If you have a Christian entry, it should contain a spiritual thread that isn't tacked on. (Don't just stick some verse in.) It's probably best to find a theme or Christian worldview that weaves into the very fiber of your characters or setting.Worldview is a part of this and every fiction book is written from someone's worldview.

8. Go back and read aloud now, this time looking for missing words, punctuation, misspellings, grammar, context clues--all that stuff that will make your copy as clean as possible. A couple flicks of a red pen will not doom your entry, but a clean copy is a happy copy.

9. Make sure you have details about character occupations/dress/living, setting, or genre correct. This becomes particularly important in historical settings. Know the language of your characters and their vocabulary. If you need to, for your own sake, make a vocabulary list for your story.

10. Let your entry go and work on something else or keep working on this piece to get ready for the market. Don't sit waiting for it. Read a writing craft book. Read books in the genre you entered. Make notes of the publishers of those books/authors in this genre. Keep a 3-ring notebook for this piece for development and put your judges' comments in with this.

AND AFTER YOU GET YOUR CONTEST PIECE BACK...

It's not the end of the world, and you don't need to trash the judges, if they didn't "get" your writing. Keep your reactions and hurt among your writing friends, not spit into the judges' faces. You may never know who the judges were of the first round. The world is a small place with big ears. The judge you "trash" may very well have your manuscript in front of her when you DO send it out to that agent or editor (as a first reader or assistant or just because the editor wanted an opinion.) How YOU react to criticism is noted.

Listen, I've heard some pretty harsh comments in the past from contestants (from Christians, too) who entered contests. Because they got low scores or tough comments(thus eliminating them from the final round,) suddenly they feel the need to vent about the process or the judges. Contestants went so far as to question the motives of those judges, their character, their experience or their affiliations. Don't do this. If you disagree with the judge, fine--disagree(among your friends, not on a forum.) When you send that manuscript to an editor, just remember that the publishing world is very, very small and the contest is only a small part on the road to becoming a published author.

A note about judges: Most judges get paid NOTHING to judge, and just want to give back and help those who enter the contests. They put in tons of thought, time, and expertise, only to be told they know nothing about what they're doing. Leaves a bad taste in the mouths of those who took time and concern to make comments to those hoping to land a publishing contract.

It's true that not every comment is written in stone. Publishing is a fluid business. What flies one day, crashes into the Hudson the next. Judges have precise instructions and try their best to follow the guidelines laid out by the contest. If you truly have a beef about what a judge said, probably this would best be directed to those who set up the guidelines/contest, so it can be addressed from within context. It could be that it was a guideline that the judge was following needs adjustment, or it could be you don't understand the criteria. This is all a part of understanding what each publishing house wants. Isn't that the goal?

Read your criticisms with an open heart, not a wounded one. The contest may or may not get your writing in front of an editor with whom you really want to work. Write thank you notes to everyone (judges, organizers) and appreciate that this is just one more step. Your name, once revealed, should not bring pain to the judges.

And if you do well, thank your judges! They are proud of you, too.

Times they be a'changin'

Kelly McGillis, an actress in movies, Top Gun and Witness, went from this back then, to....






...this now. If you're not frozen in time in a movie or maybe a staute, then somehow time marches on.












With all that in mind I want you to think about responding to my poll over to the right. I've been making so many changes in my life the past couple months that I haven't written many posts on this blog or my When I Was Just a Kid blog.

When I started this blog awhile back, I took an entire year before putting up my first post on this blog. I didn't know quite what to do with it. And I was trying to rediscover my own "voice" in writing fiction, so I practiced here. I talked about anything that interested me.(Trying to rediscover my passions.) I got the idea here first to do nostalgic interviews and that's when the other blog was born.

Now that I have a direction of what I am writing in fiction, I am still getting requests and questions about writing fiction from the years of evaluating it. You see, in my day job over the years I have been a first reader for agents and editors, have book doctored and coached some authors through the agent-connections, seen a few of these authors be published, been a judge and book reviewer for published books, judged in writing contests for the unpublished, and written a few articles or been interviewed about fiction writing. I have gathered some insight over the course of these roles.

I may never see my own fiction published. Who knows what they want? But if I can help someone else get to that position, well, that brings me joy, too.

Take the poll to the right and leave comments on what you would like to know and see. Maybe I can even get a few people in the publishing industry to answer some questions. The URL of this blog is christianbookscout.blogspot.com so I would like to get the focus of this particular blog back to that.

In the meantime this week I will be finishing up a free evaluation that I gave away on Seekerville on my guest blog.(Dare Your Reader) I am also wondering if there is a market for this type of evaluation. I still evaluate both published books and manuscripts (for publishing companies and an agent.) If you would be interested in something like that, leave a comment about that, too.

Go ahead and vote in the poll on the right (and you can vote for more than one item.)And look for a new look on the Chat 'n' Chew soon. It's all about me and my interests...and all about you, too.

Random Friday

We have drifting roads, closed schools and things piling up to do inside, but I worked a little on my Facebook page last night and this post comes from that. I still am learning about it. I also recently started Twitter (see to the right) and like everyone else, I'm learning, and wondering, is it worth my time? There is so much I want to do.

I have 5 books I'm reading for review for Church Libraries magazine, and I'm working on creating my own fiction--at last. It is a daunting proposition. Contemporary? Suspense? Comedy? Historical? Romance? Ok, now you know what I like to read. But I've helped several people go on to be published, so this is one of those lofty goals I dreamed about as a teen for myself. Time is a'tickin'. I actually wrote in the school newspaper that I wanted to write The Great American Novel. LOL. Now that is being idealistic and dreamy. But a gal's gotta try.

So on Facebook I was tagged a few times to write Random Things about myself. Here it is from that page:

I have on my blog 100 Things About Crystal
but I'll just do 25 here:

Once you've been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 25 people to be tagged. You have to tag the person who tagged you. If I tagged you, it's because I want to know more about you, or you may have tagged me.

If you have Facebook, do this:
(To do this, go to "notes" under tabs on your profile page, paste these instructions in the body of the note, type your 25 random things, tag 25 people [in the right hand corner of the app] then click publish.)

My 25
1. I am of Swedish, Norwegian, English, Irish, Scotch and Cherokee descent.I hope to use this in my own fiction, though I'm not sure I want to write my own historical fiction, but it's of my favorites to read.

2. I am a second generation American on my mother's side, who was Swedish and Norwegian and from Minnesota. My dad was from Tennessee and from a family who had lived in this country for generations, some on the same land that is still in our family with a graveyard of family dating back to the 1700s. They met in Indiana. I love stories of my family.

3. I won third place in an art contest in 6th grade where my teacher argued with his artist sister(the other judge) that my drawing was "too real" to be art. He didn't want to give me a prize at all; she wanted to give me first place. My prize was a compromise and he told me about it. It was a drawing of a man walking to his cabin with an ax over his shoulder, next to a lake with pine trees. I can still see it in my mind's eye. The picture is long gone. I still would like a cabin by a lake.

3. I competed in trapshooting tournaments around the country. I own my own Perazzi competition grade shotgun. It has a single barrel and double barrels that I can interchange to shoot either single clay targets or double clay targets thrown in the air from a traphouse.

4. I have owned 4 different competition grade shotguns: Ljutic, Kreighoff and 2 Perazzis.

5. I love the Italian Perazzi gunmakers who come to America every summer for the Grand American. I just look at them, look at their guns and smell the great food they are cooking in their building. I have talked to them a couple times about my gun that their family business made.

6. I once talked to a master German gunmaker on the phone about my shotgun, which was misfiring. He fixed it. He was very nice and actually listened to me.

7. I was trained by one of the top champions in trapshooting in the world, Kay Ohye. He believed in me as a shooter. Competition trapshooting takes a lot of time and money. I've competed in Arizona, Georgia, Michigan, Ohio, Tennessee and with the top competitors in the world, including my husband's family members. Two of my trapshooting buddies have died. One died this week. Ken is now "breaking 'em all!"

8. I learned to play the guitar when I was 12. My teacher, who later went to Nashville to try and be a songwriter, made me write my own songs and sing while playing my guitar.

9. I learned a lot of Neil Diamond songs because my guitar teacher loved Neil Diamond. His dog, a very large St. Bernard, loved ME and would slobber on my arm. My guitar teacher's wife would bring me a towel.

10. I took guitar back up when I was 45 but haven't played lately. I sometimes play bass in our band.

11. I've played and sang with a band. Our band has been paid money to play.

12. I'm not that good, but my family are all good at music and singing. My sons have their own bands, too.

13. My Tennessee family did not like my name Crystal and I really wasn't called Crystal until I married Chris over 25 years ago. They called me Crissy or Cris. I spelled my name "Chris" when I went to public school because I thought it was cool and my chance to be myself.

14. I love Southern food.

15. I also love Italian food.

16. I love to eat avocados,tomatoes, almonds, Herdez salsa, anything lime-flavored and Lay's Potato Chips. My favorite flavor is lime--anything with lime. I prefer salty and sour over sweet, but I love creme brulee dessert. I like coffee black, and did not drink it until I was 28 years old. I love Real Coca-Cola and will drink a Coke anytime! I might drink a diet Lime Coke, but hate Diet anything. I also love raspberry iced tea. Love to eat at all kinds of restaurants and talk to the chefs. My favorite thing to do is go out to eat with my husband, and our friends, Gary and Sue. I also love going with our boys, who make me laugh.

17. I once considered being a vegetarian like my mother's family, but I loved ham, bacon, sausage and hamburgers too much. But I sometimes will eat vegetarian for periods of time because it seems to make me lose weight!I think my body is suited for a vegetarian diet.

18. My favorite books as an elementary student were these childhood biographical historical fiction books and I have never seen them again as an adult. They were about historical people as children. My second favorite books were Little House on the Prairie books. However, my favorite stories, hands-down, were stories my mother told while I sat eating or drawing at the kitchen table. I've collected some of those stories from other family members, too, and found a whole line of our Irish family clear back to County Cavan in Ireland.

19. I sketched pictures all the time as a child. It was my favorite thing to do. I still sometimes sketch in my margins while taking notes. My HS art teacher wanted me to be an art major. I have a son who is now an art major in drawing. I have paintings from family who were artists, including my son and a former student named Erin.

20. My sixth grade teacher read to us Edgar Allan Poe stories and I was totally won over. I don't remember any other stories my teacher read, although he read to us every day after lunch recess.

21. The first book I bought through Scholastic Book Club in 6th grade (the year I went to public school, I was in a Christian school my first 5 years of school) was My Life and Hard Times by James Thurber. I still have that book. I thought he was hysterically funny. No one else got it--either the book or his humor.

22. I also loved anything written by Mark Twain. I did dozens of reports on him, including a paper in college. I still have a notebook I did on him.

23. I was in college when I first heard of C.S. Lewis. My cousin, Darrol, gave me a set of his outer space trilogy. I didn't know that I loved fantasy and science fiction until then. I have worked as a judge, book doctor and editor in the category of Christian speculative/ sci fi/ fantasy fiction.

24. I worked in the high school library for three years and read almost everything in there. I particularly remember East of Eden by John Steinbeck. James Dean, who was from our hometown, became famous in the movie based on that book. I read the book before I saw the movie.

25. I've published over 800 book reviews in magazines, wrote a book review column and parenting column, as well as many articles. I work as a freelance Christian fiction reader/editor/book doctor on assignment.

Here's a photo of me as a student teacher at Park Elementary. That was a lonnnnnnnnnnnnng time ago once upon a time. School pictures--gotta love 'em.



I'm supposed to tag people, but here's the deal--if you want to do this, go ahead and then mention where you got it. I'll come comment on yours!

Jumpstart Your Dreams

Many people ask me how they can get published, and sometimes I even have worked with fiction authors in various capacities to progress to this goal. I also list books for them to read to move them along to that goal--to be published.

Now my friend, W. Terry Whalin, has a book out that will help you to reach your goal of being published. For many years he's given advice and tips on his blog The Writing Life. Check this video trailer out and get this book to Jumpstart Your Publishing Dreams!

Premio-Dardas

My blog has been awarded the "Premio-Dardas" Award today by LeAnne of Beauty and the Beholder. If you have ever seen LeAnne's blogs, you've already seen what comprises very beautifully written and artistically-laid out blogs. I am so honored and not even in the same category.

Here is what is said about the Premio-Dardas:
"This award 'acknowledges the values that every Blogger displays in their effort to transmit cultural, ethical, literary, and personal values with each message they write.'

Awards like this have been created with the intention of promoting community among Bloggers. It's a way to show appreciation and gratitude for work that adds value to the Web.

I understand this award comes with a couple of rules, and they are:

1. Accept the award, post it on your blog together with the name of the person who granted it to you, along with his/her blog link.

CM: Ok, accepted!

2. Pass the award to (15) other blogs that you feel are worthy of this recognition. Remember to contact each of them to let them know they have been chosen as recipients.

*Please note: when copying the award picture, please download it to your own computer first and upload from there to your own blog site.

Like LeAnne, I find my time limited today more than usual as I'm on a deadline, but I have a list handy (also check my blog list to the right!) I'm passing the award along to these bloggers and even if they don't have time to accept and pass it along, these are blogs to check out:

1. Camy Tang at Camy's Loft

2. Sabrina Fox at Hijinks in the Heartland

3. Cara Putman at Cara's Musings

4. Lee Warren at Little Nuances

5. Robin Lee Hatcher's Write Thinking

6. Rachel Hauck at Rachel Hauck

7. Richard Mabry, M.D. at Random Jottings

8. Jamie Carie at The Preacher's Daughter

9. Sharon Lavy at I Dream of Writing for God

10. Jude Urbanski at Hey, Jude!

11. Susan J. Reinhardt at Christian Reader/Writer Connection

12. Christine Lindsay at Christine Lindsay

13. Gina Conroy at Portrait of a Writer...Interrupted

14. D.C. (Dave) Weiss at Amokarts (A.M.O.K. Arts)

15. Rachelle at Seek His Kingdom

Thanks, LeAnne, for passing the "Premio Dardas" to me. Now to go around to let these folks know!

Drawing for a Free Evaluation of Your Fiction Proposal

For a chance to win an evaluation of your proposal by professional freelance reader,ME, visit Seekerville Monday, January 12.

All you have to do to enter the drawing is read my guest post, "Dare Your Reader to Risk Reading Your Book" that's chock full of tips on getting past a publisher's or agent's reader and then leave a comment on that post (the one by me.)

The drawing will take place on Wednesday, January 14. Janet Dean will draw one winner for an evaluation of the first three chapters and synopsis of your manuscript. And if you don't need an evaluation of your fiction proposal, then just come by to say hi or add a comment.

Seekers always has some great advice and posts on writing (last week was fabulous!) so it's one of my favorites listed over at the right. I'm honored that they asked me to guest blog.

4 X 4

I swiped this meme off another blog, my good friend Nancy at Anchors, Signposts & Wanderings. You're supposed to post the 4th photo in your 4th file and then share the story about it.

So this is the fourth file, fourth photo:



This is my mother as a toddler. It's one of the very few photos my mother had of herself as a young person. She was the youngest daughter in a family of 10 kids. Her mother was the second wife of Aaron Pierson. His first wife died of TB and left 5 small children.

My great-grandparents (Ane and Bernt) and their daughter(my grandmother, Anna) went to Aaron's church and helped him out with his five young children after his wife's death, and so, Aaron married my grandmother. Then, they had five children, making 10 kids! My mother was the fourth child born to Anna and Aaron(they had one more, a son,) so Anna asked the older kids what they wanted to name my mother. They picked their sister's name--Lillian Arlene--a child who was the sixth child in the first family who died as an infant. My mother said it was strange to see her own name on a tombstone in the family plots!

My mother didn't have her mother very long. Her mom, not long after having another child (the son mentioned above) had TB and died when my mother was almost 6. Her older sisters, who had gone through this experience, too, you think would've been more compassionate to this small girl who was only 5 when losing her mother, but they often were cruel and harsh to her. On the morning of her 6th birthday she came down the stairs, sat at the table, expecting the same birthday delights that my grandmother always did for all the children--fixed them whatever they wanted for breakfast and making them Queen or King of the day. No. The older girls (teens and young 20s) snapped, "You're a big girl now. Get your own breakfast. You don't have your mother anymore." Harsh reality.

They continued their harsh treatment of my mother even after I came along--I got to witness it and feel the brunt of their disdain, as well. Certainly when my mother also got TB you would have thought they would take care of me--but no, and thank God that my dad's parents took me and loved me as their own child.

But this little girl was obviously happy, and her mother, though managing as a farm wife with nine-soon-to-be-ten children of various ages, delighted in birthdays and her carrier pigeons pets and a husband who was older but funny, despite having a hard life of his own. I think my mother looks happy and cared for, don't you? She has no idea of what is to come, but I do think she adopted her own mother's attitudes, despite being so young when she lost her.

So, do you want to play? If you have a blog, you might try this--find the fourth file and fourth picture and tell about it. Leave your link if you do.

Bittersweet Joys

It's a little hard to see, but the photo in this picture is of my mother. My grandmother and Aunt Linda (who was only 13 at the time) dressed me up in this pretty dress my grandmother made, and put me in front of the tree with my mama's picture to send to my mother, who was in an Indiana TB hospital. I was living with my grandparents in Tennessee. My dad was working as a truck driver, and staying close to my mother and his job.

I don't remember much about this. I do remember how much I was just crazy in love with my Granddaddy Warren. I look at the letters my mother saved from my grandmother and my scribbles all over the bottom of them--because I loved to "write." I wrote all over my Aunt Linda's high school yearbook. She wasn't too happy with me. I'm sure it was hard having this baby who not only invaded her life, slept with her in her bed, kept her up at night with this problem and that, but also sort of ruined her social life. You would think that she would have ill feelings toward me even now. But no, my Aunt Linda is probably my closest and dearest friend/relative. She still lives in Tennessee, has a wonderful family and hosts a Christmas breakfast each year. I am missing her this Christmas and marveling at the thought of how she tolerated me.

I also look at this photo and think of my poor mom--gravely ill, separated from her husband and baby daughter. She had five miscarriages and then got me. Then not even a year later she gave me to her inlaws and made my grandmother promise to give me back when she got well. What a sacrifice my grandmother made! She once told me that the hardest thing in her life was to give me back to my mother, but I'm so glad she did. While I loved my grandparents just as if they were my parents, my mother was a rare gift to the world and I feel so privileged to have been raised by her.

Of course, this causes me to think of Mary. When she found out she was having the son of God, the Savior of the world, it had to be bittersweet to think that someday he would have to return to His Father! What amazing courage she had. It makes me weep to think about the pain, but what an amazing love and sacrifice--and a bittersweet joy.

Bittersweet joys are all around us. Don't miss out on joys just because you are afraid of the coming pains.

Happy Thoughts Day

(I don't have a picture of my parents around their wedding day. This was taken many years later, after I had been born.)

When I was growing up, there were some tough times around Christmas. I tend to block out those thoughts and still fight feeling melancholy around Christmas, even though my situation is much better!

But I always have happy thoughts when I think of December 22. That was the day my parents married in 1951 in Corinth, Mississippi. Both my parents are now dead, but they celebrated 45 years of marriage before my mother died.

This is why I feel happy on December 22nd. My dad was a long haul truck driver and often was still on the road on December 22nd before coming home for Christmas. But here is what he would do--no matter where he was in the Midwest, he would stop somewhere, find a phone and call my mother at 12 noon on December 22.Twelve noon straight up is when they got married and he made special effort, long before cell phones, to connect with my mother on that day, but also at the TIME he married her. My dad may have had many issues, but one thing came through loud and clear with this effort--he was crazy about my mother and had a great desire to let her know their connection.

So every December 22nd, I sit and reflect on the fact that we have an imperfect life, but there are threads of delight and hope tucked into each one. Situations aren't so wonderful for almost all of us at one time or another, but if we can stop and thank God for one blessing, then life can go on, hold together. We can choose happiness. When I start to spiral down in December...December 22nd comes. And I find myself smiling and thinking that there are threads of hope woven into every life, especially my own.

Happy thoughts, blessings and prayers for many threads of hope woven into your fabric of life today. Happy December 22nd. (And yes, I should've posted this at 12 noon!)

In the Shadow of the Sun King by Golden Keyes Parsons

Normally, I don't do reviews of books on this blog. I promote authors and books, but don't do a review. I have published over 800 reviews, so it's not like I don't do them--I do. Usually it has been as part of my job with a magazine. Anyway, I agreed to do this, a real review and it hasn't been easy. I want to just promote the author and let you decide if it's a book you want to read--not tell you what I thought of it! Ok, so here you go. Let them eat cake.


In the Shadow of the Sun King by Golden Keyes Parsons
(Thomas Nelson)


Based on the author's own family history, the seventeenth century Clavell family's struggle to hold together their family in the face of religious persecution on order of the "Sun King" Louis XIV proves nearly fatal.

Huguenots, or French Protestants who followed teachings by John Calvin, are pillaged, their books burned, and homesteads destroyed, while the children are sent to Catholic schools to be re-educated if they did not convert to the country's religion, Catholicism. It was a time of great peril for families like the Clavells, but Madeleine, lady and wife of Francois, travels to Versailles in order to convince King Louis, her former love as teens, to desist in the pressure to conform to the country's religious practices.

Courage and strong convictions are two traits that the Clavells possess that transcend time and cultures to show that some things are worth dying for, worth risking it all for. The more the Clavells try to hang together, the more it appears that the family will be ripped apart at the seams.

Parsons shows a strong command of French history and culture in the King's court, as well as storytelling skills that help us to understand the power of prejudice vs. convictions. She demands attention to the emotions tied to our very souls, our heart’s convictions and core beliefs. In similar times would your faith stand? This is one question that Parsons attempts to answer with her own family history. My favorite parts involved the boys who were whisked away to keep them from being "re-educated" and the scenes where action was involved.


While it is difficult in this day to imagine Protestants pitted against Catholics, it is not difficult to imagine one group demanding obeisance and exhibiting power plays for reasons other than what God would want of us. May her message be one of choosing tolerance among our society today. Reading group guide and map included, as well as a glossary of French terms. Beautiful read, one of little known religious history and many details of the French court.

Here are the questions raised: When those who have power and disagree with you tread into your church, will you have to go underground? Will you sorrow over the books burned? Will you stand strong in your beliefs, even as your children are threatened to be re-educated in another belief, or you are threatened with conformity or death? A few years ago I would not have thought this was something that I would be confronted with in my own country—but these days I am seeing rumblings and so, this may be the book you should read to open your eyes to what persecution could be. Thought provoking and worth a look, and especially if you love French history. I found it to drag in places, and my own emotions weren't always pulled into the story as much as I would have liked, even though I normally love historical fiction like this.

However, if you love anything French, language and history, and the affairs of kings and court, you will like this, I assure you.

Purchase at http://www.amazon.com

To All Suffering in Grief This Christmas

Trish Berg shares on her blog the story behind "I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day" and it hits my mood. I wonder if this is the message all suffering this Christmas should read. It's a thought. If you know someone suffering instead of rejoicing, or you are suffering this Christmas, this song is for you.


Here is the Casting Crowns version:



I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along the unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

Till ringing, singing on its way
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime, a chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

And in despair I bowed my head,
"There is no peace on earth," I said,
"For hate is strong and mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good will to men."

Then peeled the bells more loud and deep:
"God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The wrong shall fail; the right prevail
With peace on earth, good will to men."



To My Friend, Erin, in memory of her wonderful father, Marc A. McDugle:

Which Jane Austin Character Are You?

My results:

Take the Quiz here!

You are Elizabeth Bennet of Pride & Prejudice! You are intelligent, witty, and tremendously attractive. You have a good head on your shoulders, and oftentimes find yourself the lone beacon of reason in a sea of ridiculousness. You take great pleasure in many things. You are proficient in nearly all of them, though you will never own it. Lest you seem too perfect, you have a tendency toward prejudgement that serves you very ill indeed.

Is Change a Good Thing, Martha?

So much has changed for me since the photo above was taken. If I started listing all the changes, there would not be enough room in this blog and I'd blow your mind! But for one thing I now have front teeth. I have five candles on that cake--I now have, um, many more. I am so happy in that photo, and I still carry that joy in me. No matter what has happened in my life, I still have that outlook that you see on my face in this photo.

I see myself just as I am in that photo. No matter what. I'm always surprised that bad things happen to me, but I have this Scarlett O'Hara attitude--"After all, tomorrow's another day!" or "Why cotton will go sky high!" or "Fiddle-dee-dee, pick yourself up and have another turnip!" or "As God as my witness, I'll never go hungry again!" (Well, I had some tiramisu today.)

I have been exploring a new path for me. In the mean time I haven't posted here because I'm trying to decide just what I'm supposed to be doing in my own writing, with this blog. I am having a hard time trying to think of what to write. I am rereading Anne Lamott's Bird by Bird.

This time of year has me 1. melancholy, missing my mother 2. missing my extended family 3. reflective 4. Still thankful and joyful about my life and family. I have two good friends who told me to just take December off from reading, from blogging, from building my own writing, and I am as much as I can. I do know that I need to change a few things.

I am all out of When I Was Just a Kid interviews, too, by the way, so I may start moving some of the ones I have on Chat 'n' Chew that I did before I opened the Kid blog. Start looking for that in the coming days. However, if you know someone who'd like to do an interview, please send them my way! Would love that!

Happy birthday Little Crissy! (No one called me by my real name, Crystal, until I married a Chris--and my mother was delighted, I think!) Happy, happy, joy, joy!

Space: The Final Frontier of My Mind

I'm not getting any younger. Still, I've lived pretty fully up until now. As I finish up some responsibilities this month, I'm thinking more and more about "what next?"

I think somehow in the last few years I landed on the wrong planet and I've got to chart a new course. I want to explore the space in my mind.

What lurks on the darkside of my mind--that unexplored space? Who would I have been if I'd gone in that part of my brain instead of this side of my brain?

I'm going to find out. It could get pretty hairy. But that has never stopped me before.

Houston, we have lift off.