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Writing
My Interview at Coffee Cups and Camisoles
I’m being interviewed over at Coffee Cups and Camisoles today. There’s a giveaway too! Stop by and say “hello”
A Cold Winter Night by novelist Ada Brownell
A guest post by Ada Brownell
The frosty ice on the canal crunched as my skates rhythmically slid in rhythm in the darkness.
The rest of my Sunday school class still wobbled on their blades on the frozen irrigation water near the bonfire, trying to get a feel for the sport. I flew around one canal curve, then another, enjoying the cold breeze I created.
Moonlight glistened off the ice, lighting my way. I twirled, whirled and skated backward before turning ahead to go around another curve.
I grew up in a small Colorado town that made an ice rink for the kids, flooded it every day when temperatures neared zero, and kept a warm fire burning in a barrel. Then irrigation canals striped and criss-crossed our valley, and they were a great place to skate, too
Old Man Winter prepared a glassy smooth surface on the canal for this night.
Practice, not lessons, shot me out ahead of my friends who struggled behind me. Well, I admit a brother helped me figure out how to manage curves and backward skating. But my dad started my adventure on ice. He bought a box of junk at the auction, and my skates were tucked in there.
Suddenly I heard heavy rhythmic movement.
“Hi.”
L.C. Brownell, one of four brothers named to be called by their initials, zipped beside me. The moon revealed twinkles in his eyes and a smile on his handsome face.
“Hi,” I answered, wondering at the friendliness of a youth about five years older than I.
Up and down the canal we went together. He’d taken lessons in Minneapolis while he was in telegraph school. We skated and talked. Everyone else stayed close to the fire.
When chili-eating time came, he asked, “Could I take you home?”
I agreed, and that started a relationship that caught me by surprise. I was barely age 15. Already 20 and working for the railroad, a whole tribe of young women tried to catch his attention.
On our first date when he stopped his car in my parents’ driveway, he pointed at my window and scooted my way. “Look! A falling star.”
I didn’t look. I held up my hands to bar him from coming closer, quickly opened the door and went inside.
The second date I sat closer and he gently kissed me—once.
I fell in love at that moment, but I didn’t want to love him. I had things to do; places to go; goals to achieve. When he declared his love for me, I didn’t take it seriously. He talked of marriage and I thought he couldn’t be serious. Erma, my vivacious older sister, had been engaged five times.
L.C., however, needed a cook, a housekeeper, a devoted wife, and for some reason he chose this kid—me. Furthermore, he thought he could tell me what to do. That didn’t go far with this freckled-faced redhead. Friction often caused sparks between us instead of love. He’d chosen the wrong “woman-to-be” to boss around.
He slipped a diamond on my finger after he discovered my parents weren’t running him off. One week we were engaged; the next, not even speaking. The whole year we dated our relationship soared, crashed, then went back to the heights and hit bottom again.
Finally, I broke up with him, refused to date him, and told him to go after other girls who adored him. I knew I loved him. I just thought I’d get over it.
Well, I didn’t. After months of hoping for a miraculous recovery from my encounter with Cupid, I gave up. Three months later, I wore one of the most beautiful white satin wedding gowns I’ve seen, even until this day. My sister-in-law, Mildred, a wonderful seamstress, made it.
I’d be lying if I told you everything went as smooth as the ice on which we skated on our first flirt with romance. I’m still a spit fire and he still likes to tell me what to do.
Yet, the fires of love burn after 61 years in a relationship that began on a cold winter night. I finished high school, graduated from college, have a wonderful career and outstanding children and grandchildren.
Despite stressful times and sorrow, the journey has been an exciting adventure beyond my wildest dreams–even more special because Jesus and L.C. walk beside me.
About Ada
Ada Brownell is the author of five books, about 300 stories and articles in Christian publications, and she spent a large chunk of her life as a reporter, mostly for The Pueblo Chieftain in Colorado. She and her husband L.C., have five children, one of them in heaven, eight wonderful grandchildren.and two great-grandchildren.
Among her books: The Lady Fugitive, an historical romance released July 18, 2014, Imagine the Future You, a youth Bible study (November 2013). Joe the Dreamer: The Castle and the Catapult, (Jan. 15, 2013); Swallowed by Life: Mysteries of Death, Resurrection and the Eternal, (Dec. 6, 2011); and Confessions of a Pentecostal, out of print but released in 2012 for Kindle; All the books are available in paper or for Kindle. Imagine the Future You audiobook is available at www.Audible.com Free book with new Audible membership.
Amazon Ada Brownell author page: https://www.amazon.com/author/adabrownell
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/#!/AdaBrownellWritingMinistries
Twitter: @AdaBrownell
Blog: http://inkfromanearthenvessel.blogspot.com
About The Lady Fugitive
How does a respected elocutionist become a face on a wanted poster?
Jenny Louise Parks escapes from the coal bin, and her abusive uncle offers a handsome reward for her return. Because he is a judge, he will find her or he won’t inherit her parents’ ranch.
Determination to remain free grips Jenny, especially after she meets William and there’s a hint of romance. But while peddling household goods and showing a Passion of the Christ moving picture, he discovers his father’s brutal murder.
Will Jenny avoid the bounty hunters? Can she forgive the person who turns her in? Will she find peace, joy and love?
Real Romance by novelist Karin Beery
A guest post by Karin Beery
November 26 – one of the most romantic days of the year. Well, for me anyway. Nine years ago today I married a tall, handsome, hairy man. A chance meeting at a coffee shop eight months earlier led us down the aisle on a blizzardy Thanksgiving weekend. I didn’t plan a fairytale wedding, nor had I dreamed of the occasion since childhood. Thanks to books and movies, however, I did have some preconceived ideas about marriage and the happily-ever-after. Boy, were they wrong.
Did you know that boys and girls define “clean” differently? I don’t think my husband has ever looked at his pile of clothes by the front door and thought, “Maybe I should put those in the hamper.” Then again, I’ve never cared much what my windows look like. Thanks to him my windows are washed regularly.
You know those husbands that spend the weekend watching football (or baseball or hockey)? Well, I don’t. My husband is more interested in mold spores than football scores. His favorite football game is the Super Bowl because when it’s over he doesn’t have to watch any more games for six months. For me? It’s the start of the countdown until next season.
And then there are the compromises. I love food, and there are millions of recipes I still need to try. The hubs would eat tacos, spaghetti, and chili every week. Boring. I can agree to one of those a week, though (even after nine years).
And this whole anniversary thing. Technically it’s November 26. That’s when we were married. Technically, however, we were also married the Saturday after Thanksgiving. That’s easier for my husband to remember. As long as he remembers to say something nice on that day, we’re good.
Married life is nothing like the movies and novels suggested, and I couldn’t be happier. My honey sees dirt in places that I don’t notice, so he cleans the areas that matter to him and I clean the places that matter to me. He lets me have the remote control during all of the live sporting events because he knows he can watch his shows as reruns. Menu planning is easy because I know what he likes (and he’s actually willing to try anything). There’s never any stress about celebrating our anniversary since we can pick from two days each year.
Fictional relationship are just that – fictional – but that doesn’t mean the real thing is bad. I don’t have a generic, Hollywood romance. My husband and I love each other in ways that minister to our specific desires and personalities. I’ll take that over flowers and chocolates any day.
About Karin
A freelance writer/editor/coach, wife, care-giver, and homemaker, Karin Beery has had more than 450 articles published in various periodicals, in addition to writing her novels. She is an active member of the American Christian Fiction Writers Association, Evangelical Press Association, and Christian Proofreaders and Editors Network. Karin is represented by Steven Hutson of Word Wise Media. You can connect with her on Facebook, Twitter, or at her website, www.karinbeery.com.
The Giver of All Good Things by Dawn Crandall
A Guest Blog by Dawn Crandall
When I was sixteen, I read Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier. And then I discovered the movie Gone With The Wind… and then the book by Margaret Mitchell. I didn’t know I liked to read until then, but even more than that—I didn’t realize what an amazing thing it could be to write a book. So I told myself I would do just that. I would write a book. Someday.
Life went on, but I didn’t end up writing. I attended Taylor University, graduated, worked at Barnes & Noble, met my husband at the church we attended, got married and moved to a new city.
My husband soon found out about my desire to write a book and encouraged me from that very day to write it. Could someone with ADD focus enough to write a book? I’m seriously one of those people who have a very difficult time finishing any kind of hobby project. Most things just don’t mean enough to me to keep my attention long enough to complete. But I found that this book writing thing was much different. I found that because writing was my absolute favorite thing to do, I could sit at my laptop all day long and write up the scenes which were so vividly racing through my mind. Having ADD is basically boils down to having a stream of ideas and hypothetical situations running through my mind at all times. My imagination is often on hyper-drive. Music and photographs often help me as prompts, and sometimes all I need is a word, and a whole scene comes together in my mind. It doesn’t really make sense to me how I’m able to capture 90K words into a Word document and take a reader on a complex emotional journey through the eyes of my heroine. It’s fun! And it’s complicated…. and I love it.
I was sixteen, and not even a Christian yet, when the desire to write a book struck my heart. I was thirty-two when I actually began writing The Hesitant Heiress in 2010. I don’t know why it had to take me so long to get around to it. I don’t understand God’s will for my life sometimes, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t good. He was in control, and He was building everything up for a few big surprises.
In 2011, I joined ACFW and my husband sent me to the national conference. I had two agent appointments and a paid critique meeting. I was about to cancel my agent appointments when I went to my paid critique. I thought my book was dumb, that I was dumb for going to conference… I was completely out of my league… why was I there? I hadn’t even finished my manuscript. I was jumping the gun and had spent way too much money for no reason. But that wasn’t what author Andrea Boeshaar told me in my appointment with her. She told me my first chapter was amazing, that the writing was better than a lot of books that were published…. and she told me to definitely go to my agent appointments.
God knew I needed that! Who wouldn’t love to hear such things? So I went to my appointments, I received two requests for partial proposals. I didn’t even know what a proposal was, but I found out and I am made one, even explaining that I was still revising the end of my book. I did include a chapter outline though, and I think that helped… because within the week I had a contract for representation from both agents in my email box within the week of sending out my proposals. I chose Joyce Hart as my agent and went about finishing my novel. All of 2012 went by with my only book on submission to a handful of publishers, and the second manuscript {The Bound Heart, November 2014} for my series became a semi-finalist in the 2012 Genesis Contest. And then half of 2013 went by as well…. and I wanted to quit. I had a really hard time writing book three {The Captive Imposter, February 2015} because my confidence was going down the drain. It must have been a fluke that two incredibly sought after agents had wanted to represent me upon first sight of my first three chapters. It must have been a fluke about the Genesis contest… and then again when book one became a semi-finalist and book three became a finalist in the 2013 Genesis Contest. How much more “half-way there” could I take?
Well…. about a month later, God taught me a great big lesson. And it didn’t have anything to do with a book, writing, or seeing my name in print. It had to do with another dream I’d always had but had given up on. I’d given up on getting pregnant and having a family, having traded it in for the dream of becoming a published author. I found out I was pregnant in August 2013, and suddenly I didn’t care so much about getting my long-sought-after book contract. I still wanted it, of course! It just wasn’t the only thing I had to think about anymore.
When I signed my book contract with Whitaker House in December 2013, I was six months pregnant, and they quickly told me they planned to release the books all three months apart. (Yeah, you don’t have to tell me that’s craziness… I know!)
I was once convinced that having my “book-babies” published was what I wanted more than anything. But was I wrong. There really is nothing compared to holding my baby boy in my arms and seeing him laugh and smile. Even if this isn’t the timeframe I would have chosen for myself, I trust God knows what He’s doing. He’s blessed me this year… yes, with what seems like a little too much to do… but I’ll take it!
The Hesitant Heiress, Book 1 of The Everstone Chronicles
After being unjustly expelled from the Boston Conservatory of Music, Amaryllis Brigham sees her dreams of founding a music academy disappearing before her very eyes. Now the only way to achieve her goal comes with high stakes for someone set on avoiding men as much as possible: marry within the year to inherit her grandmother’s fortune. Amaryllis reluctantly takes part in her aunt’s society, intent on getting to the west coast on her own… and without a husband.
Despite her own misgivings, she soon finds herself falling in love with the most unlikely of men, Nathan Everstone, whose father not only had a part in her expulsion, but whose ominous presence has haunted her dreams for a decade since her mother’s tragic death. Nathan turns out to be much more than he seems and everything she never knew she wanted. But just as everything Amaryllis has recently hoped for comes to fruition, it all falls apart when she finds that the real culprit who has been managing her life isn’t who she thought at all.
The Bound Heart, Book 2 of The Everstone Chronicles
One accidental kiss. That was all it took to throw Meredyth Summercourt’s world upside-down. Determined to marry the ever-elusive Vance Everstone, she simply doesn’t have the time or the desire to fall for her friend Lawry Hampton. However, with Vance out of the country and Lawry constantly at her side, Meredyth can’t help but wonder if what’s holding her to Vance is nothing more than a desire to redeem herself from their unfortunate past.
When Vance comes home to stake his claim on Meredyth, will she be strong enough to break free from the tangled web she’s convinced she deserves? Or will she find the strength to accept that God’s plan for her life could include redemption… and quite possibly the love of her best-friend?
About Dawn Crandall
A graduate of Taylor University with a degree in Christian Education, and a former bookseller at Barnes & Noble, Dawn Crandall didn’t begin writing until 2010 when her husband found out about her long-buried dream of writing a book. Without a doubt about someday becoming traditionally published, he encouraged her to quit working in order to focus on writing The Hesitant Heiress. It didn’t take her long to realize that writing books was what she was made to do. Dawn is represented by Joyce Hart of Hartline Literary.
Apart from writing books, Dawn is also a first-time mom to a precious little boy (born March 2014) and also serves with her husband in a pre-marriage mentor program at their local church in Fort Wayne, Indiana.
Dawn is a member of the American Christian Fiction Writers, secretary for the Indiana ACFW Chapter (Hoosier Ink), and associate member of the Great Lakes ACFW Chapter.
CONNECT WITH DAWN
Blog: www.dawncrandall.blogspot.com
Facebook: facebook.com/DawnCrandallWritesFirst
Book Review Blog: APassionforPages.blogspot.com
GoodReads: www.goodreads.com/dawn_crandall
Pinterest: www.pinterest.com/dawnwritesfirst
Email: dawncrandallwritesfirst@gmail.com
Twitter: @dawnwritesfirst
Amazon: www.amazon.com/Dawn-Crandall
Interview with inspirational romance author, Carol Moncado
I’m happy to have inspirational romance author, Carol Moncado, here today! She’s talking about her debut novel, Finding Mr. Write, which released this week!
Where did the inspiration for Finding Mr. Write come from?
The inspiration came from a conversation I had with Casey Herringshaw in the comments on Seekerville one day in mid-2011. We were planning for our first ACFW conference and debated whether or not we should stalk Julie Lessman while there. It turns out we didn’t need to, but the idea had taken root. The original concept had a much more Lucy-Ethel tone to it, but I love the way it turned out.
So why Mya Elizabeth Linscott? Mya… well, the reason is implied in the book so I won’t spoil it here. I don’t remember the inspiration for Elizabeth, but likely just looking for something with an “E” to make it MEL. Linscott comes from my favorite Mary Connealy hero, Tom Linscott in Sharpshooter in Petticoats.
Where did the inspiration for Dorrie come from? What about the skin cancer on Dorrie’s nose?
Dorrie embodies pretty much every author I know, myself included. The insecurities. The fears. The rejection. But with all of that comes friendships that transcend writing. Camaraderie. Growth. And I do know of at least one couple that met at a conference and married later. Her journey mirrors mine in many ways [though not the contest final/win – or the random conference wedding ;)].
As for the skin cancer… as I was working on a round of edits for this book, I was diagnosed with exactly what she was. Her experience there also very much mirrors my own – from the nickel-sized crater to the second surgery and the lasering. And yes – my eyelids were numb at one point ;).
Where did the inspiration for Jeremiah come from?
My husband isn’t a writer, but he’s a lot like Jeremiah in a lot of ways. He’s incredibly supportive and I couldn’t do this writer thing without him. I don’t know where the whole “Prince Caspian” thing came from, but came it did. And I loved it!
Where exactly is Serenity Landing?
Serenity Landing is a fictionalized version of Republic, Missouri – about 12 miles southwest of Springfield. I’ve lived in this area for over 20 years now and wouldn’t trade it for anything! Look for a Serenity Landing website, coming soon! Most [all?] of the books I have planned are connected to this town in one way or another, so you’ll learn a lot more about it as they go on :).
What book(s) is(are) coming out next?
This is the beginning of my “grand opening” as an author! Six books are releasing this year and I’m working to finish them up right now.
* Finally Mr. Write: CANDID Romance book 2; November 24, 2014
* Falling for Mr. Write: CANDID Romance book 3; December 2014
*Good Enough for a Princess: The Montevaro Monarchy book 1; November 17, 2014
*Along Came a Prince: The Montevaro Monarchy book 2; December 2014
*More Than a Princess: The Montevaro Monarchy book 3; December 2014
Spring 2014 will see the release of the next series – The Brides of Bellas Montagnes. When I have the time, I’m working on book 3 in that series, Prince from her Past. The first two are mostly done – Hand-me-down Princess and Queen of His Heart [working title].
Simple Ways Parents Can Nurture Their Creativity
Nurturing your creativity takes time and attention, but as I’ve found out, it doesn’t take as much time as I had originally figured.
Thirty minutes a day can do wonders for a creative person. It can create a proverbial garden of inspiration.
In thirty minutes, you can:
Write a full page of your book (that’s about 250 words)
Edit a half a page.
Knit three rows of your latest project.
Sketch a part of a drawing.
Practice a couple of songs.
Go for a walk. (Daily walks are the best for clearing your brain and getting those creative juices flowing.)
Draft a blog post.
I used to thing I needed long, uninterrupted stretches of time to nurture my creativity. Well, my lifestyle doesn’t always allow me such luxuries. In fact, that last time I have a long, uninterrupted time to do anything was when I had an unexpected 11 hour layover at the Atlanta airport. (After getting over the grumpies about my layover, I didn’t think twice about getting to work on my latest project!)
Times When Busy Parents Can Nurture their Creativity
Before the children get up
While the children are eating.
When the children are busy playing.
NAP TIME!!!
Right before you go to bed.
This tiny snatches of time add up, but when we are in the midst of our days it can often seem like the exact opposite.
Time for you: Do you long to pursue a passion? Have you learned to snatch up minutes to nurture your creative life?
The Fantastic, The Strange and The Ridiculous, a guest blog by Dorothy Adamek
You’re crazy.
Allow me to tell you, if you don’t already know.
Writers are a confirmed bunch of crazy people. It’s true. I’ve been told, so it must be.
I don’t mean the first dictionary definition.
- deranged of mind.I prefer the next one down.
- fantastic, strange and ridiculous.
Known to dive into crazy situations, we whisper crazy thoughts and hunt down crazy stuff. We sniff out the crazy in others and revel in their stories, mentally storing details to savor later in our scribbles.
It’s all part of the job description and none of us would be game to deny it.
We hear a delicious phrase and tuck it away for our good pleasure. Ponder the title of a book from a list of thoroughbreds about to race. Lose ourselves smelling fruit as we contemplate what best describes late autumn.
We visit places far from home to taste the wind. Just to get the crazy details right. Revisit childhood to unearth emotions only God can strengthen us to navigate again. And let the moon rise, hours after our beloveds have fallen asleep, to continue writing until dawn nudges the sky.
While others go about their normal day, we wander down a pathway no one else can see. We dawdle there and find something crazy enough to share with the dear one we call reader.
Last January, like every other summer, my kids swam in the waters of Australia’s Phillip Island. I stayed ashore, shivering in the absent summer. I would not play in frozen water… until one crazy thought gripped me and wouldn’t let go.
I wonder what it feels like to step in fully clothed? The way a character might in a moment of despair.
So I waded into the shallows and let the sea foam pull at my skirt with icy tugs. I let the waves assault my goose flesh until the black fabric stuck to my knees. And to my children’s horror, I ventured deeper and watched my clothes billow under me to the sway of the sea.
I just wanted to know. How would it feel to step out with sodden clothes clinging to my skin? How long would those tiny streams of water drip down my legs, and how much sand would my hem collect before I reached home?
Hours later I looked again, at the dusty salt marks in the creases of my skirt.
It was crazy and it was fun. And it was part of whom I’ve now become. A gatherer of details and experiences. A crazy writer.
Are you a crazy writer? Game enough to share a time when some craziness beckoned in your writing pursuits?
And if you’re too shy to admit a moment of craziness, remember crazy also means this.
- very good or excellent.
Ask any teenager. They’re crazy too!
Dorothy Adamek is an Australian writer of Historical Romance. She lives at Crabapple House with her Beloved and their three children, twenty fruit trees and Gilbert the cat. Come say G’day at her blog, Ink Dots. www.dorothyadamek.blogspot.com.au/
