Dancing Word Interviews Me

Earlier in the year, I was invited to be interviewed during an online chat, by writers and those who want to be in the writing industry. They scheduled me for November. November is here, and now it is time to prepare for the chat-it will be this Friday-November 3rd at 9 p.m. EST. If you are curious-you can go to the site to see the ad for it, and you are welcome to attend the chat. It is easy and free.

dancingword.net

I am a writer's coach, and we will be discussing all things relevant to the writing industry. Examples of topics to be covered: query letters, book proposals, copy editing, finding writing opportunities, online writers' groups and critique groups, marketing, and public relations.

Please pray that I can help the ones who sign up for the chat. Also pray that there will be no technical difficulties.

ROOTED IN CONTENTMENT

Jazzy is chewing on a 15-inch root as we speak. Yes, a root. My almost one-year-old Boston Terrier thinks she is Yule Gibbons or something when it comes to eating nature snacks. I looked at the root, and my first thought was, "Oh, I long to be rooted!"

To those of you who have lived in the same place your entire life, perhaps you don't understand that desire. Let me explain. My first 18 years, I lived in the same home. From that time, until now, 25 years later (and please don't do the math!), I have lived in 20 dwelling places. TWENTY! That amounts to eight towns and six states. No wonder I yearn for roots!

I desire to never write another change of address card again! My friends who grew up moving with military don't understand that. They are happy with a move at least every 3-5 years. And perhaps gypsies never lose that wandering gene. But for the most part, God placed a longing for stability in the hearts of his children. When the Hebrews wandered in the desert for forty years, they moaned and complained. I imagine that is where the phrase "Are we there yet?" came to be! With the world changing around us, we want HOME to stay the same.

God places a longing for roots in our very being. Psalm 1:3 says, "And he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither; and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper." May I be planted in the Bible, God's Holy Word, so that I can get all the nutrients I need from the good soil and water, to be fruitful in producing what God wants in my life.

But I also realize what Paul said in Philippians 4: 11, "Not that I speak in respect of want: for I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content."

I'm very sure Paul wasn't speaking of states of the union, since America had not even been discovered yet, but it can apply to me being content no matter what state I live in. But more importantly it tells me that no matter what God allows to come into my life, even if it doesn't involve roots, I can learn to be content. My joy comes from God's grace, not from my circumstances.

If I'm honest, I'd much rather be rooted in Him, than in some street address. May I be rooted in contentment-the very best location to be.

Broken

BROKEN

I was watching a movie the other day, and a quote really stuck in my mind. The character said something like, "Sometimes things need to stay broken. It's not up to you to fix everything. Your job is to let it stay broken for now."

That struck a chord with me because I'm a chronic fixer. If I see something that's not right, I try to solve the problem and make things okay. If someone has a relationship problem, I become the mediator. If there are conflicts, I take on the role of peacemaker. If someone has a physical need, I am the self-appointed provider to meet that need.

All of that sounds good until I realize that I often jump ahead of God and just "fix" something without asking God if it is my job to repair it. That movie showed me that sometimes we learn more through the brokenness than we do when things are A-okay.

I heard myself saying the other day, "but I just don't want to see them suffer." And another Christian reminded me that the Bible speaks about suffering as if it is something with which the believer becomes greatly acquainted during his life journey. Suffering sometimes delivers a testimony of God's grace, and sometimes it is a schoolmaster of what is important to God. We learn better through suffering, about the heart of God, than we do when things are hunky-dory. And we communicate more with God when we are in a broken place in our lives. So, it's okay for some things to stay broken for a while. It's not my job to fix everything. Only God can mend the wounds of a broken heart.

The words of David Meece's song, "Brokenness" penetrates my soul. I pray his lyrics ministers to you as well.

"In my brokenness ~ In my hour of darkness
~ I will lift my hands ~ And worship You

~ In my brokenness ~ In my time of sadness
~ I will lift my voice ~ And praise to You

~ Time stands still ~ As I kneel down before You
~ Life draws near ~ Like waves upon the shore

~ You touch me ~ In my brokenness
~ In these whispering shadows ~ I will lift the pieces ~
Of my heart to You."

Make Your Requests Known

When our meal planner gave us the list of who was bringing meals, we noticed the name of a Brazilian woman-Carla. Russ and I talked about it, and wondered if it would be rude to hint that we would LOVE a Brazilian meal.

So, Russ handled it very delicately. He went up to her and said, "Hey, Carla, a little birdy tells me you might be bringing a meal over this week. Is that right?"

She smiled and said in her broken English, "I make lassagna for you!"

He sort of got a pouty lip and said, "Oh Carla, no Brazillian food for us?"

Her eyes lit up, her posture straighted with excitement, and she said "You wish I make recipe from Brazil?"

Russ said, "Yes! Yes! Please. Anyone can make lassagna, but only you can make an authentic Brazilian dish in our church."

So, Wednesday, Carla brought over Feijoada. This is a black bean dish that has ham, bacon, and sausage in it. Very tasty. She brought over yucca flour called manioc flour or farofa and instructed me to sprinkle some over the Feijoada to thicken it. She also brought white rice and collard greens, which is how the meal is traditionally served.

It was delicious. We're so glad we decided to speak up and make our request known. Otherwise it would have just been one more Italian dish. Instead we were transported to Brazil—if only through our tastebuds.

Fall or Winter?

Earlier this week, I took photos of the trees in our woods. They were just starting to turn colors. I planned to take photos every few days to show the progression of color.

There's only one problem.

Last evening, the rains and wind came, darting towards our home at some unnatural angle. I looked outside and exclaimed,"It's raining LEAVES!" No fooling, the leaves just blew off the trees.

Today, I woke up to freezing cold temperatures. At 9:00 a.m. it was only 34 degrees outside. I called Russ and asked him if I could turn on the heat because our thermostat said it was only 64 degrees inside! He laughed to think I would call to get "permission" but of course I was mainly asking because I wasn't sure if our system had been winterized yet. Imagine my good fortune when he said I could turn on the heat!

I looked outside, and one of my trees is almost "naked." The other trees have a few more leaves, but I can kiss goodbye any dreams of photographing the progressive colorization process. It's not Fall today, it's Winter!

Oscar or Felix?

Do you remember The Odd Couple? Oscar Madison and Felix Ungar shared an apartment. Oscar was messy, unorganized, and laid back. Felix was neat, regimented, and probably would be diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder in 2006. It's amazing these two got along so well. Have you ever wondered how they could be such good friends when they were so different from each other? Perhaps it is because deep down, if you removed all their differences, they both had the same good heart.

I have certain characteristic traits similar to Oscar and Felix. I'm normally organized and professional when it comes to work and church projects and love to dress sharp. But I'm sloppy at home, even when I have the best intentions. Are you more of a Felix or an Oscar? How does your temperament help or hinder your relationships?

When it comes to reading the Bible, are you more like Oscar or Felix? When Oscars look for wisdom in the Bible, they use the magic verse technique. Perhaps you are familiar with this. Oscars flip open the Bible to any page, close their eyes and point to a verse. This is their verse for the day and they claim it for any circumstance that comes their way. Oscar types are tempted to procrastinate reading the Bible.

Felixes have a systematic, organized technique for reading their Bibles. Perhaps they read through the Bible in a year, or use a special Bible Study book, or some other routine reading schedule. Felix types are more disciplined, and read the Bible before there is a felt-need for biblical direction or advice.

Obviously there are no wrong techniques for Bible reading. God's just glad you want to hear His voice via the Word. When you open the Bible you are inviting God to speak to you. You learn His heart, and grow more like Him. The more a child spends time with his father, the more he becomes LIKE his father. That happens to us when we spend time with our Heavenly Father in His Word.

Are you an Oscar or a Felix? No matter what your personality type, the Bible can become a part of your life.

Wishing On Dandelions

Enjoy this author interview.

Book: Wishing on Dandelions

Author: Mary E. DeMuth

• This book deals with difficult subject matter: childhood sexual abuse and its residual affects. How did this book emerge?

My passion is to write about redemption through the avenue of story. I started the first book, Watching the Tree Limbs, in a flurry. In my mind I saw the streets of Burl and a girl who didn’t know where she came from. Because my personal story involves different instances of sexual abuse, I wanted to write a story that showed the reader how God could intersect an abuse-victim’s life and make a difference.

• So, are you Maranatha?

In some ways yes, some no. Like Maranatha, I felt like God had transformed my life in such a radical way (like her name change from Mara—bitter—to Maranatha—Come Lord Jesus). Like Maranatha, I endured sexual abuse, but I was much younger when it happened. Like Maranatha, I wondered if I had been marked, that every sexual predator could “tell” I was a ready victim. I wrestled through relationships in my teens with Maranatha’s twin feelings of revulsion and attraction. But, she is not me in many other ways. She is more independent. She has no parents. She lives in an entirely different culture. She is less ambitious. She has the privilege of many wiser people to mentor her through life.

• What made you decide to write a love story?

The book didn’t start out in my mind as a love story, but it evolved into it as I continued writing. Characters have that uncanny way of taking your prose and running in all sorts of directions with it. Charlie just kept being faithful. In a sense, I fell in love with him!

• What made you choose East Texas as the setting for both novels?

The South fascinates me. I grew up in the Northwest. When my last child was born, my husband was transferred to East Texas to start a department in a hospital. Because I was a stay-at-home mom and home schooling, I didn’t have much else to do there except to observe small town southern culture. Because I didn’t grow up in that culture, my senses were heightened and I eventually began to really appreciate the differences.

• Childhood sexual abuse is not talked about very often, and seldom covered in novels. What made you decide to write about it?

For that very reason. The more victims are quiet, the less healing they will receive. The more we talk about it, bringing heinous acts to the light, the better able we are to know we are not alone. I wrote this book so other abuse victims would feel validated and heard. And to offer hope.

• Why do you end your books with hope?

Because hope is essential to Jesus’ Gospel. Even when things are bleak, there is always hope—if not in this life, then in the next. I’m not interested, however, in presenting hope in a superfluous way. I don’t want to tie up every story thread neatly. The truth is, life is tragic and difficult and bewildering, but God intersects that life and brings hope.

• Have you always wanted to write?

Yes. Since my second grade teacher told my mother that she thought I was a creative writer, I’ve wanted to write. I kept a diary since the sixth grade. Though I was an English major, I didn’t start writing seriously until my first daughter was born. I wrote for ten years in obscurity before my writing career took a turn for the better.

• Who are your literary heroes?

I love Harper Lee. I only wish she’d written more. Leif Enger, who wrote Peace Like a River, greatly inspired me to write visually and artistically. I love Sue Monk Kidd’s Secret Life of Bees, how you could almost taste her characters. I’m fascinated and intimidated by J.R.R. Tolkein—how he managed to create an entire world with several languages is way beyond my literary prowess.

• What do you want your reader to take away from Wishing on Dandelions?

That redemption of a broken life takes time. We’re all on a journey of healing. Sometimes it’s slow going, but if we can endure through the dark times, God will bring us to new places of growth. I want the images and characters to stay with a reader for a long time.

Autumn Reminiscence

Shades of yellow, gold and orange splashed across the hillsides. Air crisp as a saltine crackers filled the lungs of life-breathers; deeply inhaling the scents of Fall. Trail walkers crunched across the rice krispy paths carpeted with fallen leaves and twigs. Fathers and sons stuffed duffle bags with indulgent snacks and camping gear for their annual deer hunt. Cinnamon smells wafted from the kitchen — laced in apple cobblers and nut breads. Harvesters emptied fields of Earth's bounty, leaving behind the barren fertile soil filled with hopes and dreams of next year's crop. Cider mills produced liquid gold, chilled to perfection. Spotless apples saved for caramel or candied treats. Leaf forts raked to the curb and ignited into smoldering mounds; smoke signals sending Morse code messages. "Hello. Good-bye. Fall has come. Fall has gone. Day is done."

As you have probably guessed, I have fond memories of autumn. I've lived in areas of the country where Fall was absent from the seasonal calendar. The Gulf of Mexico has its own subtropical beauty. The desert of New Mexico had its wide-open grandeur. But neither has Fall. Their loss. It's not just the scenes of autumn, but the smells and moods of autumn that speak to hearts.

No matter where you live, allow this time of year to remind you of how blessed we are with God's creation. He gifted us with this beautiful world to enjoy. It sustains us physically, and gives us what we need emotionally, mentally and spiritually as well. Pick up a leaf, and you will notice some points on each side, and a point at the top of the leaf. This tells me I need to look to each other and to my surroundings for fellowship, but most of all I am pointed to my Heavenly Father (at the top).

Take time to breath in God's bounty before Winter comes.

Expiration Date

"Is it okay to use cheese that has mold on it? Can't I just cut off the mold and use the good part?"

This was a recent question on the new Rachel Ray television show. It got my attention because I'm guilty of letting food park in my refrigerated "garage" too long. I hate to let things go to waste, but I won't use food that might make me sick. So how do you know?

Rachel Ray answered the cheese question by saying the moldy cheese will never taste as good again, even if the mold is removed, UNLESS it was a moldy cheese to begin with, such as gorgonzola. She went on to the next offensive items in the refrigerator, those past their expiration date. We've heard it time and time again that the expiration date is there for a reason, but what if the date is a "sell by" date instead? Then how do you know if the item is still okay? Usually it is the milk that has a sell by date, and there is an easy way to tell if it has gone bad, if you are willing to recruit your nose for the job!

One tip I learned early in my marriage was how to know if eggs are still fresh (and these CAN be used past the expiration date). Put the suspicious egg in a bowl of salted cold water. If it floats, throw it out. If it sinks, it is fresh. If it swims somewhere in the middle of the water-neither floating or sinking-it is safe to use for baking or for deviled eggs, but not fresh enough for an eggs and bacon breakfast.

All this talk about expiration dates got me to thinking about our time to leave this Earth. Some believe when it is your time to go, it will happen no matter what you do to alter the date and time. I know a few cases documented in the Bible of people who actually were able to bargain with God for a later expiration date.

One thing we should focus on more than the expiration date is the "use by" date. Yep-I fooled you. That is the same as the expiration date. You know what that tells me? All creation is meant to be USEFUL to the very end. But keep in mind that usefulness to God might be different from the "usefulness" our guilt-trips try to persuade us to do. While service is good, what God really finds useful is when we are fellowshipping with Him. This is what He created us for.

In the great egg test of life, I hope God finds that I sink rather than float. And if you knew my swimming ability, you would realize just how possible that might be!

Feeling expired? Trade it in for feeling INSPIRED.

Gratitude List

I think I've missed posting my gratitude list the past two weeks-so I better get with it! If I can't be thankful, I can't really be living, right?

I'm grateful for:

1. Breakfast cereals eaten dry as snacks. Yum!

2. Jars of homemade vegetable soup delivered in a gift bag yesterday along with two very nice lotions. Pampering for my skin and my belly-how nice is that? Thanks to Les and Juanita for that.

3. A phone call from my Aunt Verna. I'm grateful that this past year has helped me reconnect with my three paternal aunts-a true blessing to me. I think when my cousin died it was a wake-up call for all of us. I've received cards from all 3 aunts in the past month-how thoughtful!

4. Phone calls from friends-one is even willing to come over and shave my legs since I can't bend-now THAT'S a friend!

5. Donatos pizza-how convenient to call for delivery. I love 1/2 pepperoni and 1/2 Hawaiian on thin crust.

Pizza is good for when your cupboards are getting empty. I haven't been to the grocery story for over two weeks-I'm overdue. Russ almost ate yogurt yesterday that had expired! I did have an outing on Friday-to go eat a grilled cheese sandwich at Frishe's Big Boy (had a gift card). We were going to go to Kroger after we ate, just to pick up 5 items, but we had forgotten my remote control programmer for my spinal cord stimulator. I'm not supposed to go through the security gates at stores without turning off the stimulator, so that means we aborted the grocery trip and Russ did it on his way home. But...I'm really due to get out of the house again-cabin fever is setting in!

I go tomorrow for my first post-op visit, and also for a visit with Medtronics to reprogram my device.

I'm definitely on the mend!

We Have A Winner!

Congrats to J. Arnold of PA for winning the book drawing for _Coldwater Revival_. I just finished the review copy and I'm glad to pass it on to one of my readers. I'll be posting a new contest soon-so check back often to enter.

Jazzy Psyched Us Out!

Jazzy, our 10 month old Boston Terrier, thinks all the company we have been having are here to see her. It's all about JAZZY, don't you know?! So, if someone comes with a meal in their arms, we try to put Jazzy out, and she can watch us visit from the French Doors on the deck. She gives a side show for our friends by jumping sky high, like she is on an invisible pogo stick. She can jump higher than our deadbolt.

Well, yesterday Betty and Bev came by with some KFC, and they felt sorry for Jazzy. They insisted it was okay to let her in. Jazzy smothered them in sloppy wet kisses and let them know she was in love at first sight. We didn't want Jazzy to overwhelm them, so Russ scooped up Jazzy and held her while we chatted. Bev found one of Jazzy's balls and decided to throw it for Jazzy to chase. Jazzy acted like she was all excited to chase the ball, but as soon as Russ let her down, she headed for our guests-to give them round two of kisses. We tried this three different times, and each time, Jazzy acted like she would chase the ball, but would instead go give kisses. It was hilarious.

It hurts to laugh, but it hurts NOT to laugh, if you know what I mean!

Now I Lay Me Down

NOW I LAY ME DOWN

Psalm 4: 8, "I will both lay me down in peace, and sleep; for thou, LORD, only makest me dwell in safety."

As a child, I was forced to slow down long enough to take a nap. Back then "nap" was the opposite of fun. I hated missing anything life might be throwing my way. I didn't realize why I needed naps and felt they were a waste of time. When I was quite young, though, I enjoyed the prequel to the nap, on my mother's lap. I recall the gentle back and forth rocking motion as we sat atop our antique rocking chair, while she sang "She'll Be Coming Round The Mountain." The rhythm of the chair in motion, the soothing notes sung, and the loving caress all made me feel loved and safe.

I'm on my way to take a nap as I write this article. Now that I am grown I believe the afternoon nap is the best free indulgence available. It doesn't discriminate. It is open to poor and rich, young and old. Naps restore my energy and renew my mental focus. My body wakes to less pain and more vigor.

But even if I didn't receive any benefits from napping, the process of taking a nap would be enough reason for me to set aside time for this luxury. I'm able to turn off the distracting burdens and to-do lists that pile up in my mind and heart.

When I walk toward the bedroom and say, "Jazzy, let's take a nappy" she prances eagerly by my side and jumps up to nuzzle next to me in bed. She is an excellent nap companion. Everyone needs a pet who is a nap fan!

Soon my breathing slows down, and the world fades away. Slumber. Sweet slumber. What a gift from God. He promises to give me rest, and I gladly receive that gift.

Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray I slumber long and deep.

May all my cares be whisked away
And peaceful joy be here to stay.

Expect The Unexpected

You know how there is a book called, "What To Expect When You Are Expecting"? There needs to be a book called "What To Expect When You have Spinal Cord Stimulator Surgery." Amazing the things they just FORGOT to tell us.

I guess if we should have learned anything by now in life, it would be to expect the unexpected. And so it is with this surgery. I didn't expect so much pain, or bruising. I did expect to be bedridden longer and I'm not (get too stiff if I lay very long). I expected smaller incisions-surprise! I didn't expect to sleep well, but I have been sleeping great (probably thanks to the Percocet). I didn't realize just how dependent I would be on someone for the basic things like dressing or scratching the top of my head. I didn't expect the restrictions to, well, RESTRICT me so much. Cramps my style! For example, I wanted to make potato soup for lunch. Russ had to fetch the potato for me, and the pan. And I had to add water to the pan a little at a time while it sat on the burner, rather than holding it under the faucet, due to the weight. Everything I take for granted must be reevaluated these 8 weeks of recovery. I'll learn to appreciate my independence more when I get it back. One sign that I will have "arrived" is when I'm allowed to drive-in 6-8 weeks time.

Good news: fever is reduced and the redness connecting the two incisions is from bruising rather than infection. How did I know? It started turning orange/yellow.

Speaking of colors-I truly believe I've got my own rainbow or coat-of-many-colors going on with this bruise. How can one bruise embrace my belly and wrap underneath my arm and land somewhere on my back? ONE bruise! Perhaps my skin and soft tissue is revolting from the surgical attack, or maybe the fat cells are wondering why they weren't siphoned off and deemed medically unnecessary.

And my hair...boy is it a sight! Right now, I really don't care. Before surgery, I thought I would care what I looked like (making sure I had enough clothes that would work, and people to do my hair). But now, if I get a shower every other day and clean clothes on, I really don't care if I'm ready for the red carpet. But my hair...it really IS awful. How in the world can I develop bed-head from hair that was combed straight down like a Peter Pan cut, when I don't toss and turn in bed? However Russ positions me for my sleep position is how I wake up in the morning. Stiff as a board. Sometime in the night, the hair fairies came out to play in my tresses to distress them beyond repair. How important is a hairstyle in the full scheme of things anyway?

Yes, the surgeon left my sense-of-humor gene intact. Laughter really is a merry medicine to the deepest of the deepest hurts-even to the bones.

Thanks for praying-please keep it up!

Home

RE: My spinal cord stimulator surgery

Just a quick note to let you know I'm home. I had a rough night-slept for about 20 minute intervals in the hospital. The hospital staff was awesome,though. I had to deal with nausea this morning after breakfast, so took a couple of phenergans so that I wouldn't get sick on the way home (about a 35 minute drive).

I am in a great deal of pain. Especially when I have to change positions. I'm using all of my positioning techniques (legs not back, log rolls,etc.) I have bruising around the two incisions (each incision is about 5 inches). But I have a LOT of bruising connecting the two incisions (where the tubing is the "conduit" for the wires connecting the pacemaker type device to the electrodes in my back). That bruise is probably 3" by 5"at its biggest. They said the bruising will increase over the next couple of days. I'm pretty swollen too.

The device is working so/so. The guy who programmed it for my surgery was different than the nurse who programmed it for the trial, and so it is set up different than with what we are familiar. So, we will experiment with the settings, and then will also get it tweaked when I go back for my post-op in 2 weeks.

I've been sleeping a lot since I got home, but that's not a bad thing.

Thanks for praying!

Don't Drink The Water!

We saw this photo on a CD at the bookstore. Loved it! (Remember-we own a 10 month old Boston Terrier)

Too cute!

Someone sent me this photo, and I thought it was too cute not to share!

Author Interview: Nancy Jo Jenkins

I'm reading a great book right now, and I can't wait to tell you about it. Since I'm not finished with it yet, I can't write a full review at this time, so I thought I'd share an author interview with you. If you are interested in reading this book, e-mail me or leave a comment, and I will have a drawing of the names. I will send the winner the book when I'm finished with it.

About the Book: Just three weeks before her wedding, Emma Grace Falin has returned to her hometown of Coldwater, Texas, consumed by a single, burning desire. She must confront the guilt and shame of a devastating event that has haunted her since childhood.

"...What a stunning debut novel."

--Wendy Lawton, Literary Agent, author of Impressions in Clay

"An astonishing debut! Coldwater Revival is a hauntingly beautiful story made doubly so by Nancy Jo Jenkins stunning, lyrical writing. I was mesmerized from cover to cover."

--Deborah Raney, author of A Nest of Sparrows and A Vow to Cherish


Nancy Jo Jenkins Press Pic

THE INTERVIEW

Q. How long did it take you to write Coldwater Revival?

A. I perceived the idea for Coldwater Revival in June, 2003, and completed the manuscript in March, 2005.

Q. Tell us about your journey from writer to published novelist.

A. During my teaching career, I dreamed of the day when I could write the stories that continually swam around in my head. I didn't know at the time that it would take me four or five years of attending workshops, conferences, retreats, lectures, and of studying tapes, books and other materials before I was ready to put my newly-acquired knowledge to use, and begin writing the stories that God had prompted me to write. In March, 2004, at the Mount Hermon Christian Writing Conference, I submitted a book proposal to Steve Laube (Literary agent), and Jeff Dunn, (Acquisitions Editor) for RiverOak. Both gentlemen asked me to send them all I had written on Coldwater Revival, which at the time was 109 pages. During the summer of 2004, both men offered me a contract. My book was published by RiverOak and released in May, 2006.

Q. The agony and healing Emma Grace went through are so real. What personal
experiences did you draw from to portray Emma Grace's feelings so well?

A. There was a time in my life when I suffered with depression, though it was not due to a death in the family, as Emma Grace's was. At the time, it seemed that I was in a daily knock-down, drag-out fistfight with sadness. I was truly blessed in that I was never prescribed any kind of medication to treat my depression, which proved to be relatively short-lived. But I did receive counseling, which was just what I needed to win the battle with this debilitating condition. During that time of depression I endured many of the symptoms that Emma Grace suffered through. Excessive sleeping was about the only symptom we did not share. There were times when I couldn't swallow my food, and times when I could almost touch the face of that same blackness that almost overwhelmed Emma Grace. Her sorrow and guilt were difficult scenes for me to write, and I found myself crying each time I wrote about Emma Grace's sadness and the continual ache in her heart.

Q. Emma Grace loses all desire for life when her brother dies - not eating or talking, just living in the blissful cocoon of sleep. Do you have any advice for folks who are in that dark place right now?

A. Communication was the key that unlocked the door of depression for me. Communicate with God, even if the only words you can utter are the words, "Help me." But I also benefited greatly from talking to a certified counselor; one who was trained in helping people express their pain, their needs, their fears. I hope that anyone who feels sad and lonely for an extended length of time, will contact their pastor, or someone who can direct them to a Christian counselor.

Q. Emma Grace's grandmother lives in the city while the rest of the family lives in the country. Why do you think she didn't move out to the country with the rest of the family long ago?

A. Granny Falin immigrated from Ireland to America with her husband and son when Emma Grace's papa was just a lad. This family shared a dream about their new country. It would be a place where they could find work and prosperity, raise their family, and put down roots. Even the Great Hurricane of 1900 couldn't wash those dreams from Granny's heart. Though her only remaining child lived a hundred miles away in the rural township of Coldwater, Texas, Granny could never leave Galveston. The island and the sea that surrounded the island were her home now. It was where the ashes of her husband and three children were buried. It was the home she and her husband had dreamed of during their desperate years together in Ireland. If she left Galveston and moved to Roan's home, she would be giving up the dream she had shared with her husband.

Q. Papa and Elo have a tough time showing their emotions. Elo, especially, is so hard to read in the book. Why do you think some people hole up inside themselves rather than sharing their emotions?

A. I believe we are born with a portion of our personality already deeply embedded within us. Some people are reticent to express their feelings and emotions, while others have no problem whatsoever in expressing what they feel or think. I have known many individuals who are like Elo; people we sometimes refer to as "the strong, silent type". Papa and Elo are powerful protectors and providers who waste little time and effort on words. Both of these men feel that "actions speak louder than words". Added to that is the fact that Elo feels extreme discomfort when his mother and sisters are emotionally distraught, therefore, he maintains a rigid demeanor, in part, to provide a stable link in the chain that makes up his family - The Falins.

Q. Do you have other books coming out soon?

A. Thank you for asking about my upcoming books. I'm about to submit my proposal for a novel entitileld, "Whisper Mountain". This story takes place in the early 1900's in the Great Smoky Mountains. It is the story about lost love, and a desperate woman's journey to fill the void that deprivation and loss have left in her heart. The story has elements of mystery, intrigue, murder, and of course, romance. I'm very excited about this story. I've also begun writing a sequel to "Coldwater Revival" which will parallel both Emma Grace's life after 1933, and the adventurous trek Elo begins when he falls in love.

If They Were Psychic-Humor Contest

One of the humor writing contests suggested writers make a list of "if this thing/person was psychic, what this result would be." I enjoyed a five minute exercise of letting my creative juices flow. Some are funny, some aren't, but that's how you find the ONE that works (you go through all the clunkers to get to the treasures!). Why not have fun with this little exercise yourself?

If doctors were psychic....they'd lose their house in Miami from running less tests.

If dogs were psychic...oh wait—they are!

If teachers were psychic...they'd know when the dog really ate the homework.

If priests were psychic...there'd be no need for confession.

If pastors were psychic...they'd see through that compliment of "good sermon, Pastor."

If police were psychic...they'd only do a body cavity search if it was absolutely necessary.

If turtles were psychic...they'd know better than to cross the road.

If joke hearers were psychic...they'd know why the chicken crossed the road.

Photo Shop Me!

Recently, the news reported that Katie Couric and Rosie O'Donnell had "retouched" photos in PR shots. Someone behind the scenes thought it would be kind to put Katie and Rosie on instant diets by reducing inches before our very eyes. Okay-not inches, but it would have been if the photos were lifesize!


How convenient to just erase any unwanted flaws. Not only do you look good in the photo, but it provides an easy disguise when you meet people on the streets. They will never recognize you without your stage makeup and your retouched figure and face. I'm not sure what they do about live shots on television though. No time to retouch anything. I guess they just use special filters on the cameras, and hope people think the camera adds 10 pounds.

I haven't followed the photo shop route when it comes to retouching my photos. I hear it can be quite fun. But I must admit that the photo on this site is a photo from 2002 when I was about 60 pounds thinner. UGH.

No worries-I'll just go on the photo shop diet.

No pain, no gain. To my disdain, it's because I'm vain.