Writing Roseanna

My Big News!

2012-01-30T06:23:00.001-05:00

If you want a word of the week today, I'd have to with "surreal"--which is how this big news feels to me. (But did you know it wasn't a word until 1927??? I guess before that people may have just used unreal. But that doesn't quite capture it, so special thanks to Monsieur Apollinaire for coining it in French.)

Many of you probably saw my announcement on Facebook on Friday, but if not, I can finally announce the big news I've known about since October--Harvest House just bought a three-book series from me!

Now, here's why this is so surreal. Some of the first Christian fiction I read was by Lori Wick. I discovered her books when I was twelve, and my mom and I would both read all of them, even sharing them with my piano teacher. Those books were what inspired my first novel (finished at age 13). And as I finished that first novel and started dreaming of publication, my eyes naturally moved to the spines of those books I so loved.

Harvest House. Oh, the wonders of a publisher like Harvest House! It seemed everything on my shelf was either from Harvest or Bethany. Surely, surely I could find a home there!

But as the years went by and I learned more about the publishing world, I started to think that, while I would find a great publisher (surely!), it probably wouldn't be those ones I'd dreamed of for over a decade. And that was okay.

Still, when I had the chance to meet with an editor from Harvest House at the 2009 ACFW conference, I was excited. I pitched to her a contemporary romance, and she read the first few pages right there in the appointment, and declared that my writing was great. I was now excited but also guarded. I knew how long these things could take, and how an enthusiastic editor didn't always mean anything.

Sure enough, a year went by without hearing anything. I got in touch with this editor and discovered that she'd misplaced the manuscript, so I resent--along with a slew of other proposals for historicals she'd asked to see when I inquired about historical romance possibilities.

But after many months, I got the bad news on that contemporary--they just weren't doing straight-up contemporary romance. So I said, "Well, what about a historical romance set around George Washington's first spy ring, during the Revolution?" I'd just had this idea, you see, knew it would be a great follow-up to Annapolis, which had recently been contracted.

She said, "Oh, I'd be interested in looking at that!" So after finishing up a couple other projects, I got to work researching this idea I had. I titled it Ring of Secrets and came up with one of the best one-line blurbs I've ever managed:

For a Patriot daughter in Loyalist New York,

opening her heart could mean a noose around her neck.

I sent it off totally unsure that those first three chapters were any good, but I said, "Eh, it'll take her a good while to get to it, anyway. I can always send her a revised version . . ."

An hour later I get an email from this editor. I opened it up thinking it would be, "Thanks, got it!" But no--it said, "Call me!!!" Uh . . . okay. ;-)

In short, she loved it. Loved it so much that we agreed then and there to meet at the conference we'd both be attending in Oregon in August, and that I'd deliver whatever I had finished at the time. She warned me she wasn't the type to take things to committee before she'd read the whole thing, but I was so excited to hear her talking of taking it to committee that that didn't bother me at all. ;-)

So in August, she read the 75% of the book I had finished, and her enthusiasm for it left me giddy. In September, she told me when the committee meeting would be, in October. The day of, she emailed me several times making sure she had every detail of information right, and to tell me to pray. Warned me it would be two weeks before I heard.

Then it came--the email from her, to me and my agent, with the words I'd waited 15 years to hear: "Harvest House wants to buy this series!"

My first three-book deal, with a publisher I've admired since my introduction in Christian Fiction! I could hardly believe it then, and I can still hardly believe it now, three months of negotiations later. =)

But it's real. Ring of Secrets (assuming the title doesn't get changed, which is always a possibility), a fictional account following the real-life, documented activities of Washington's most trustworthy spies, will release 1 January 2013. Just less than a year from today. Here's my unofficial description. =)

Winter Reeves is a Patriot daughter forced to hide her heart amid the Loyalists of the City of New York. Though she has learned to don a mask to hide her thoughts, she has also learned to keep her ears open so she can pass information on British movements to her childhood friend and his Culper Ring. Never before has she had a problem hiding her true heart behind an image of brainless beauty. But then, never before had someone seen straight to her soul.

Bennet Lane returns to New York from his Yale professorship with one goal: to find Washington’s spy hidden among the ranks of the elite. Romance was supposed to be nothing more than a convenient cover story for his search, a way to gain entrance to the world he had so long shunned—though women are terrifying, baffling creatures that inevitably render him bumbling. But when he meets Winter, with her too-intelligent eyes under her too-blank face, he finds a mystery too intriguing to be ignored.

In a world where loyalty can be bought and sold, where no one can be trusted, and where threat dangles ever before them, Winter and Bennet must find a way through the snares of intrigue . . . before their secrets can swallow them whole.

Winter and Bennet (and Robert Townsend, Benedict Arnold, and a host of other historical figures) will be a reality soon. Followed every six months by their sequels, which will follow the next generation of both Culper Ring and the family in the War of 1812, and then next-next generation in the Civil War. ;-)

Yep . . . definitely surreal. But oh, how I praise Him for it!

Thoughtful About . . . Small Miracles

2012-01-26T07:31:00.000-05:00

Another thoughtful day as a result of our home school reading. =) This week we saw Elisha take over for Elijah, and during his stay with all the young prophets-in-training, we got to a story I remembered from when I was a kid but forgot the context of.

So one day, while all the young prophets are off in the woods so they might chop down enough wood to build new houses, an ax head flew off one of the shafts. Landed in the river. Kerplunk. The young man wielding it looked on with distress and cried, "Oh no! That was borrowed! Aaaaaaggghhhhh! Now what am I supposed to do??"

Now, I'll admit I don't know every nuance of the Law, but I suspect that the penalty for accidentally losing an ax head wasn't death or anything. ;-) But the guy was upset. He'd borrowed something, borrowed it for a noble cause, no doubt promising to return the tool in the same condition in which he'd gotten it. Which was certainly not at the bottom of the river.

Still, it's a little thing, isn't it? An ax head. Kind of akin to lost keys. Or a broken down car. Vital things, but not really life-and-death things. Yet seeing the young prophet's distress, Elisha picks up a stick, goes to the exact spot in the river where the ax had fallen, and tosses it in.

Up floated the ax head, as if it were made of wood.

When reading this to Xoe, this is where I stopped and said, "Now, what are axes made of?"

Xoe: "Metal!"

Me: "Does metal float?"

Xoe, laughing: "No, it sinks!"

Me: "And that's why this is a miracle."

Simple. Little. Wasn't it?

The more I thought about this "little" miracle, the more I realized it wasn't so little. Perhaps it wasn't as showy as parting the sea, or the river. Perhaps it wasn't as over-reaching as feeding thousands with a few loaves (Elisha did both of those just before this too). But it required rewriting the laws of physics. And you know, that's a pretty big deal. Making an ax head float . . . well, you might as well make the young prophet fly. Pretty much the same amount of miracle needed.

So I sat back, and I chewed on it. God, through Elisha, rewrote the laws of physics--for one lost tool.

And yet still people doubt that He cares, especially about the little things. Still people doubt what He can do. Still people will say, "Why didn't He just stop the ax head from flying off??" instead of looking at what He did do.

When I first heard this story, I couldn't have told you what "laws of physics" were, LOL. Sure, I knew metal didn't float, but mostly this story fell into the category of "Wow, isn't God nice?" in my little-kid mind. And He is. He is so, so nice. So good. So loving.

So much so that He'll do the impossible just to restore peace of mind to one who loves Him.

I'm going to be clinging to that ax head a lot. As a reminder of how far the Lord will go for the little things. As a reminder of how quick He often chooses to act. As a reminder of the "small" miracles that He does that we often probably don't even notice. But that require just as much miraculousness as the big ones.

With God, there really is no big or small. He doesn't weigh and measure like we do. I believe he sees a need, measures the faithfulness of the asker, not the task itself. And does what needs to be done.

Thank you, Lord, for caring on a scale I can't fathom. For the ax head as well as the Red Sea. Thank you for the big things you do to save lives and nations . . . and for the little things that let us get through each day.

Remember When . . . Location Was Everything?

2012-01-25T07:01:00.001-05:00

This past week, I've been doing a lot of research. I downloaded about a dozen free e-books to my Kindle, all from the Civil War, mostly memoirs and first-hand accounts. And, of course, Uncle Tom's Cabin, which I deem it a gross oversight on my part that I've never read. (Though I was in The King and I in high school and can't think of the book without breaking out into song: "Small house of Uncle Thooooooomas, small house of Uncle Thooooooomas, writ-ten by a wo-man, Harriet Beecher Stooooooooooooow-eh.")

When I first started writing this Civil War book, I thought, "Oh, good. I'll have two books to write in the next year set in this era. My research will get to double up."

Except, of course, that these two books are about as different as you can get when set in the same era. In my current one, both hero and heroine and Confederates. From Savannah, with its unique Georgian culture. Under their unique Georgian laws. The other one will have hero and heroine who are both Union sympathizers, though my heroine will be a widow of a secret Confederate. It's set in Maryland, which had many who left the state to join the Confederacy, but the state itself was basically not allowed to, given the military presence.

Okay, so my fashion research will be able to double up. Otherwise . . . LOL.

And though it means more work for me, I really love how different stories can be when set in the same time. My colonials are good examples of this too. Love Finds You in Annapolis, Maryland is set in 1783. Hero and heroine are Patriots, and the heroine even observes that she's scarcely seen a Tory since the war began, which would have been true of Williamsburg, where she grew up. But in my next book, set in 1780 New York City (or rather, the City of New York as it was called at the time), my heroine is literally surrounded by Loyalists after growing up in a Patriot household on Long Island. Who had control of a place played an enormous part in what that place was like.

In either the Revolutionary or Civil War.

Well, that's what I've been thinking about this past week. ;-) Do you have a particular era you love--and have you noticed the amazing spectrum of perspectives available in it? I'd love to hear about it!

Now back I go to my manuscript. My heroine has just gotten word that the hero is dead. Poor Cordelia!

Story Time - The Merchant's Daughter

2012-01-24T07:35:00.002-05:00

The Merchant's Daughter

by Melanie Dickerson

All Annabel Chapmen has ever wanted is to become a nun. To set her hands upon a Bible, to read the Holy Writ with her own eyes. To discover if it really says what their village priest claims, that all women are evil, nothing but a snare of Satan. But when her merchant father's ships were lost, her dream sank too. And when her father died in the pestilence, it seemed the whole future wavered. And now, now the Chapmans are to be held accountable for the last three years of shirking their duties to the lord of the demesne. Her uncaring brother tries to arrange a marriage for her with the nasty Bailiff Tom so that he will pay the fine they owe, but Annabel cannot. She simply cannot.

She would rather accept the penalty for her family and become a servant at the manor of the newly-arrived lord. At least there, no one can force her to become the wife of a lout. Although that lout is far too close for her peace of mind, and continues to follow her around with his lechery and threats. Praise be to the Lord that there is always someone there to provide safety--usually the beastly-looking Lord Ranulf le Wyse.

Ranulf may have lost his eye and injured his arm through an act of heroism, but the resulting injuries have made him repulsive to any female--something he learned the difficult way when he made the mistake of marrying a woman he thought loved him, but who had instead tread upon his heart before succumbing to the pestilence. Best to turn it cold and draw upon the fierce temper everyone expects anyway, given his ghastly appearance. And best to steer clear of all beautiful maidens--especially the lovely new servant who seems to find trouble every time she moves. He will do his best to protect her from those who would hurt her.

But who will protect his scarred-over heart from her?

The Merchant's Daughter is a retelling of Beauty and the Beast, so there are certain elements you know without doubt will be there. The beastly-looking man whose outside appearance goes hand in hand with a fierce temper . . . but a protective, fair heart. The lovely heroine with a desire for books rather than a husband. The full cast of supporting characters that range from delightful young boy to the menacing would-be suitor.

But it's also so much more. This is a story that plunged me directly into a world long-since gone, into the heart of a girl who just wanted to see the Scriptures. Just wanted to read them, and couldn't find a way . . . until she's forced into a situation she thought could render nothing good. Annabel and Ranulf's story is one of yearnings restrained and fears made manifest, of sacrificial love and tender emotion. Compelling from the very first page, these characters will win your heart.

It's been a long, long time since I've been able to find the time and energy to read a book in less than a day--in the last year, even really excellent books take me weeks to read. But The Merchant's Daughter stayed in my hand all morning last Sunday, and I scarcely put it down until I'd finished it. I knew when I spotted it on the shelf that it would give me exactly what I needed--an interesting, involved, beautifully transporting read--and it exceeded my expectations. I read this book in one gulp and loved every second of it!

Billed as a young adult novel, this is one I intend to give to my teenaged niece for her birthday, for sure--but it's also one that women of all ages will enjoy, especially if they have a love for fairy tales. Melanie Dickerson has done it again with this amazing medieval romance, and I just can't recommend it enough.

So go! Order one, pick one up off the shelf, borrow one--whatever you have to do to get your hands on it--you'll thank me. So I'll just say "you're welcome" now. ;-)

Word of the Week - Show

2012-01-23T06:46:00.000-05:00

This ranks as one of those "who'd a thunk?" late arrivals to the English language. Not in every sense, of course, but I think you'll be surprised by some of the years on this!

Okay, so "show" as in act or performance is as old as you might expect, coming from the 1300s. And an appearance put on to deceive, or an ostentatious display are from the 1500s. As a verb, it's even older, though with a twist unique to English. Ours evolved into a meaning of "to make known" in the 1200s, but the correlating word in other languages still carried its original meaning of "to look at."

But some of the meanings we use most often are the ones that'll get you.

Did you know, for instance, that "show up" didn't come along until 1888? That's after "show biz" which is from the 1850s! And it's even after "I'll show you!" That particular meaning comes from the 1820s.

Interesting, huh? =)

Hope everyone has a great Monday!

Thoughtful About . . . Waiting on Promises

2012-01-19T07:00:00.002-05:00

Yesterday in our homeschool Bible reading, we got to one of the best-known stories of Elijah--where he challenged the 450 priests of Baal to an alter competition. (Okay, my words, not theirs, LOL.) You remember it, I'm sure. The priests of Baal build their alter, put on their bullock, pray and pray and pray to Baal for fire to come down from heaven and light the alter.

Nothing. I love this story partially because of how Elijah taunts them. Can't you just see that wily smile as he says, "Maybe your god's asleep. Or on vacation. Cry louder."

And they do, LOL. Then, of course, after that fails, Elijah builds his alter on the exact spot it should have been all these years, puts on his bullock, and has TWELVE barrels of water dumped onto the alter. Now, it hasn't rained for years and years at this point, so that was probably some precious stuff. Elijah prayed, and fire swooshed down from heaven, devoured the offering, the water, and the very stones.

AWESOME.

But something new jumped out at me yesterday. After the priests of Baal were killed, after everyone fled, Elijah and his servant prayed again. See, it was time for the promised rain to come. Time for the drought to end. Time to bring relief for the people.

So Elijah fell to his knees and beseeched God. God, the Lord, who had just an hour earlier sent heavenly fire for him. God, the Lord, who had led him here. God, the Lord, who had promised, "And then you'll pray again, and I'll send the rains."

Elijah prayed. And his servant looked out over the sea and said, "Nothing. Not a cloud on the horizon."

So Elijah prayed again. Still, there was nothing. So he prayed again. And again. And again. And again. Each time, his servant went to check the horizon. Each time, he saw . . . absolutely . . . nothing.

This is what hit me. Seven times Elijah had to pray before that mist began to rise out of the sea. Seven times! Do you think he was wondering what was taking so long? I mean, the fire had been immediate. So why the wait now? Why was God not listening? Had He changed His mind and not told Elijah? Can you imagine that prophet looking over his shoulder and thinking, "Wow, glad all those priests aren't watching this now."

Okay, so Elijah may not have had those thoughts, LOL, but I probably would have. I probably would have thought round about prayer number four, "God, You promised! You promised!! 'Pray for rain,' You said, 'and I'll make it rain.' Well, I'm praying--so where's the rain?!"

But Elijah was faithful. We don't know how long each of these prayers was, but I have a feeling it was a little more in depth than, "Oh, Lord, please let it rain!" ;-) This man was prostrate before the Lord, begging. Begging for the rains to come.

What if he had given up? What if he said, "Sigh. Maybe the Lord doesn't want me to be a prophet anymore."? Had he only prayed, say, five times, what would have become of Israel?

Doubt, discouragement is natural--the very next day, when Elijah hears that Jezebel is out to kill him, he forgets to pray and just runs. Runs. Even though God sent the fire, sent the rain, Elijah doesn't even think to ask him to save his life. But God catches up with him on the mountain he runs to, after sustaining him during the run.

God's always there while we're running. He's there while we're hiding in the cave. He's there while we're praying, stirring up the mists, even though we can't see them yet. He's there. Not in the whirlwind, not in the earthquake . . . in the whisper. In the whisper is the voice of the Lord, just waiting for us to quiet up enough to hear Him. Waiting for us to listen. Waiting for us to wait upon Him.

How many times have we prayed for the same thing? How many times do we not see it happen and get discouraged?

But the Lord is stirring up the mists in the sea while we pray. He's working in the mysteries we can't understand, working within our world, our time, our reality so that everything will line up just so for us. We can't see all that--our eyes are only human.

But He's there. Preparing the rain.

Our part is to stay on our knees until we see it.

Remember When . . . The Painting Was Alive?

2012-01-18T06:21:00.002-05:00

Tableux Vivant.

Sounds pretty, doesn't it? French often does, after all. =) And after taking a few years of it, I know upon seeing this phrase that it means something like "living picture." I also knew when I read that these tableaux were often put on in the 1800s that it was some kind of performance, and that they were used as fundraisers in the South during the war.

As for what kind of performance--yeah, I had no clue. So if you do already, you're a step ahead of where I was a couple months ago. ;-)

My first thought was that it was a play. In fact, my assumption was that it was a play, and I started writing it into my story as if it were. My heroine was preparing a script, casting her friends in the roles. Then something went "clang clang clang!" in my brain, and I thought, "Hmmm, I'd better actually look that up."

Good thing I did! Some quick research showed me that a tableau vivant is something unique. The performers would select a well-known painting or other work of art (statuary, etc.) and then mimic it. Strike a pose to imitate it, their costuming reflecting the original work of art, and a narrator would say something about it. Then there would be a change of scenes, and the performers would move into another pose, another painting.

Pretty neat, huh? Of course, it threw a wrench into my plan for my writer-heroine to be putting her brilliant wordsmithing to work . . . so I had to get creative--er, have her get creative. ;-) In my story, my heroine, Cordelia, writes a story to pull together these well-known paintings and has gathered all her friends together (those left in the city, that is--most had already fled inland, away from those blasted Yankees) to strike the poses. Their goal--to raise funds for the Confederacy. It is, of course, a smashing success.

Tableaux are still put on today, so some of you are probably familiar with this interesting type of performance. But I can honestly say none of them had made it to my neck of the woods, so it was fun and interesting to learn about them, and integrate them into my story. Vive les tableaux!

Word of the Week - Sensation(al)

2012-01-16T07:33:00.001-05:00

As usual, my word of the week comes from last week's writing experience. =) My heroine has just spent weeks preparing a performance, which went off without a hitch. Her father comes up and says, "You were a . . ." Sensation is what I want to say. But that sounds a bit too modern, doesn't it?

So I look it up. As expected, I discover that "sensation" in its physical sense--a reaction to stimulation of the senses, so sensation of cold, hunger, etc.--is old. From 1610. I knew it would be. But what about the secondary sense? I was expecting mid-1800s, I'll be honest.

Nope. That one, the definition of "state of shock or surprise within a community" is from 1779! Definitely safe to use in my story, which was good. So out of curiosity, I looked to the next entry, sensational. As in, aiming at producing said shock within a community. That one was more what I expected, dating from 1863. And sensationalism in literature is recorded two years after that.

Hope everyone has a sensational Monday!

Thoughtful About . . . Thirsting and Savoring

2012-01-12T06:00:00.000-05:00

Last year when I prayed for a word from the Lord to encompass my year, I received it in a thunderbolt of realization. A chill up the spine, a near overwhelm of feeling and knowledge. I was waiting for that again this year . . . but since when does the Lord do what we expect? ;-)

These past two weeks as I prayed for His message for me for 2012, I had slow, gentle trickles of inspiration--the kind I easily mistake as my own thought. But the more I pondered and prayed, the more I circled back again and again to a theme encompassed by these two words: Thirst. Savor.

I try to ground myself in the Word and in prayer daily. But so often I get sidetracked or distracted or just plain forgetful. How do I stay focused on You, Lord?

Thirst.

No one (generally) has to remind me to take a drink of water. Why? Because I get thirsty. This year I'm praying that I stay thirsty for the Lord and for His word. That I wake up every morning hungering for that quiet time with Him. That it isn't duty, that it isn't obligation, that it isn't habit or rote--that it's need. Longing. Yearning. Thirst.

But that wasn't the only thing that I kept thinking. Because what do I do once I've drank of the Living Water, once I've imbibed from the Word? What do I do with the blessings He pours out into my soul and my life?

All too often, I get excited at first and then let the irritations distract me. I get frustrated with what looks like a lack of progress. Or with demands on my time that interfere with what I want to be doing. How do I manage that, Lord? How do I make sure I don't just gulp down what You pour out and then forget you ever did?

Savor.

When the Lord gives us a gift, we shouldn't act like my 3-yr-old boy does on Christmas and go, "Wow! Cool!" then toss it aside and beg for the next one. I know I sometimes do this, so this is a crucial word for me. I need to dwell on gratitude. To appreciate each and every place God puts me in, and each thing He brings into my life. To savor.

I'm yearning, Lord, and I'm lingering on what You give me, tell me, show me when I seek You. I'm thirsting. I'm savoring. And with Your help it's a lesson I'll learn all the better in 2012.

Remember When . . . She Went Native?

2012-01-11T08:02:00.001-05:00

Ahem. Well, I got your attention with that title, didn't I? ;-)

Much of my past week was spent doing one final edit of Sandi Rog's Walks Alone. In this truly excellent historical romance, heroine Anna gets kidnapped by a band of Cheyenne and taken to their village in the Rockies. There, she learns so many interesting things about the tribe's culture.

I've long been intrigued by the Native Americans (American Indians? Which is The Way to Say It these days?) and know a good bit about some of the different tribes. I'd never studied the Cheyenne though and found some of the details Sandi brought to life to be truly fascinating.

Especially some of their traditions that are remarkably similar to Old Testament instructions, like how one is to treat a woman in her monthly time. The parallels to the Law is striking, not only in that they're considered unclean for those days, but also in the ritual surrounding cleansing from it.

I was also super-interested to learn that in a Cheyenne marriage, there is no consummation until ten days after the wedding ceremony--who knew?? Loved learning that sort of detail! Ranked right up there with learning that there are those in the tribe who keep a pictorial record book of the tribe's history--basically a picture book denoting wins and losses in battle, great hunts, and the other defining moments of a tribe's history.

Cool, eh? And you can rest assured that Sandi got it all right, because it's been read and approved by a Cheyenne chief, which is yet another coolness-factor in its favor. =)

So, now that you're thoroughly intrigued and want to find out more, hop on over to Amazon and either pre-order your print copy or buy your Kindle copy. ;-) The other digital versions will be available within a week or so!

Word of the Week . . .Vacation

2012-01-09T08:39:00.003-05:00

My husband has been asking for months and months, "When's my vacation?" Working for himself as he does, he can rarely take a day off. This weekend we traveled a few hours to visit friends for a birthday celebration, and we looked at it as a mini vacation.

Which of course made me wonder about the word. =) I was pretty surprised to learn that it's as old as it is! It strikes me as a modern idea, I suppose . . . or maybe I just tend to think of the British word "holiday" as being older.

But in actuality, "vacation" dates from the 14th century with the meaning of "freedom from obligations, leisure, release." Which I guess goes to show that as long as people have been toiling, they've been in need of a break. Even the formalized version--i.e. a break from school--is from the 15th century. But the idea of going away somewhere to pass this free time (a distinction I would have thought subtle) is from the late 1800s. Who knew?

Hope everyone has a lovely Monday!

Thoughtful About . . . Umm . . .

2012-01-05T07:13:00.003-05:00

It's one of those days where I'm sitting here staring at my computer screen going, "Surely I have thoughts. Surely I do. I can be thoughtful about . . . umm . . . no, that's stupid. But maybe . . . hmmm . . . no, I don't think so."

Yeah, little random in my thinking this morning. In a few minutes I have to get back to the final preparation for Walks Alone, so it's all set and ready to go in ten days. Then it'll be time to begin the school day--lots to do there. My little boy keeps begging me to find that one little Matchbox car he misplaced, and keeps chasing around the cats and scaring them under the furniture. So typical, LOL.

One fun thing, if you didn't see it on my Facebook page. I've decided to participate in a neat little blog series this year, the goal to read a chapter from the Bible every day. I like the idea of having some accountability and discussion in my daily reading, so this just jumped out at me as a great thing to sign up for! If you haven't seen it yet, it's at http://mybible360.blogspot.com/. We've got some fun discussion going on so far. =)

Let's see, what else is going on this first week of 2012? I'm still praying that the Lord will reveal a word to me to encompass the year. Anyone else doing this? Have you gotten one yet? I'd love to hear about it, if so!

Oh, and if you are or know a teen writer, I'm running a fun contest over at Next Gen Writers this week--send in a 50 word blurb about your main character and get feedback and possibly a proposal request from WhiteFire.

Okay, I obviously need more coffee. Brain is still so sluggish . . . hope everyone's week is swimming along well!

Remember When . . . Things Got Interesting?

2012-01-04T06:38:00.002-05:00

I looked down at my calendar this morning and realized that, round about this time in 1784, things were getting interesting for my characters. =) Within a day or two of this date, my hero had finally tracked down and come face to face with my heroine after a tense separation--and she had made her opinions on this action of his very well known.

The result was the scene snippet that was up on Shannon Vannatter's romance blog last week, and I thought I'd share it today since it's kind of a "This Day in Annapolis" sort of thing . . . and because I need to get cracking on some editorial duties this morning. ;-)

Speaking of which, WhiteFire's next title is only 11 days away from its digital release, and the print version is available for pre-order on Amazon! Walks Alone is an amazing historical romance that will intrigue, surprise, and delight you as you journey with a determined immigrant from Holland as she makes her way to Denver City . . . and straight into a band of wild Cheyenne. =)

Now for that snippet . . .

from Love Finds You in Annapolis, Maryland

“I have heard enough.” She whippedthe blanket off her shoulders and folded it with a series of sharp,angry motions.

He stepped between her and the door.“This particular anger is more for Wiley than me, isn’t it? I hadno way of knowing you did not intend me to read it. So if you wouldlike me to deliver you home to Williamsburg so you can berate him—”

She slapped the blanket onto a chair.“I will stay right here, thank you.”

Her anger was clear, yes. But more,there was stony determination beneath it. “You mean it. Evenknowing how your family misses you—”

“Perhaps if my family had respectedmy wishes and canceled the wedding plans, then I would not have tostay away.”

He studied the upward slant of herchin, the fierce burning in her eyes. She would not be budged. Whichmeant he had two choices. He could give up and go home, convincetheir families the betrothal was off. If he chose that option, thenhe would in effect being saying good-bye to her once and for all.Giving her her wish, which might be the gentlemanly thing to do.

But the light caught the depths of herhair, and her eyes shone like moonstone. Her dress hung in totaldisarray, but her spine was straight and strong.

Emerson dragged in a long breath andcast his lot on the second option. “If you will not come home, thenI shall stay here.”

She blinked, as if uncertain she hadheard him correctly. “You…why in the world would you do that?”

His smile felt wry upon his lips.“Because if you are the woman I begin to see you must be, then youare worth the world.”

For a moment he thought he glimpsedtears in her eyes, but then she averted them, and he couldn’t besure it was anything more than a reaction to the whiff of smoke fromthe chimney. Her hands fisted at

her sides. “You have never lacked forlovely words, Emerson. But it is too late. Go or stay, it is noconcern of mine.”

He inclined his head. “Then with yourleave, my dear, I shall stay.”

With all the lack of concern of aBritish lady, she picked up her coffee and took a long drink. “Enjoythe town.”

“I think I shall do so more this timethan ever before. Given the company.”

Her brows rose. “I know not whatcompany you have in mind, but I promise you it shan’t be mine.”

He pressed his lips together against agrin. “Then I suppose you shall stay hidden in Randel House?Because I assure you, darling, I still have friends enough inAnnapolis that if you step out to a ball or fete, I will have securedan invitation to it as well.”

She looked as though she would haveliked to dash the cup to the ground. Instead she raised her chin.“Very well. Enjoy the holiday celebrations too. But if you call me‘darling’ again, ’tis the plank for you.”

A smirk sprang to his lips before hecould stop it. “You have pirates among your new acquaintances?”

“Scores of them.” She sashayed pasthim with a smirk of her own, leaning close enough to say, “AndCap’n Mobcap’s not one to be trifled with.”

He let her by, mostly so she wouldn’tsee his lopsided smile. Getting to know Lark Benton might be the mostenjoyment he’d had in ages.

Word of the Week - Motivation

2012-01-02T07:00:00.001-05:00

It's the first Monday of 2012, and though we may not all make resolutions, I imagine many of us are thinking about what we want to do differently this coming year, and what we won't want to budge on. We're embracing the idea of a fresh start in some areas and accepting the traditions as a way to motivate ourselves.

So I figured this would be a good word to share the history of today. =) Did you know that "motivation" wasn't in use until 1873? Pretty late! And even then, it was only used in a literal, physical sense of "causing to move toward action." The sense of "inner or social stimulus" didn't come into play until 1904.

I discovered this last year when writing Annapolis and was baffled for a good long minute. My character was claiming that his friend would question his motivations. But if he couldn't question his "motivations" in 1783, then what was he questioning?

Then I had a "duh" moment--he would be questioning his motives. "Motive" carried that very meaning since the 15th century. Which rather begs the question of why we ever thought we had to add that "-ation" ending to it, doesn't it?

Which brings me back to one of my favorite quotations--I believe this is from Pascal, though I'd have to look through my old notes to make sure, so if I'm wrong, please correct me. I love this one because it's basically saying "Don't be pretentious, dude." So a fun one to start off our new year . . .

"Think with deep motives--but talk like an ordinary person."

Happy New Year!

Thoughtful About . . . 2011 in Review

2011-12-29T06:00:00.000-05:00

Last year when reviewing 2010, I mentioned that I prayed for a word for the year--a word to live up to, or that represented a promise from the Lord. He gave me the word shine. As I went through the past twelve months, I often reminded myself that my purpose was to shine for Him, to be the mirror to His light, even when I didn't feel like it.

Did I succeed? Well, much of that is something I can't know. But I know the effect it had on me. And I know that I saw Him shining in my life in 2011--a lot.

At the start of 2011, I was launching Jewel of Persia. It was a slow launch, but it's been such a blessing to watch how it's grown and multiplied, until finally it hit the Amazon Kindle bestseller list in its category. Its ranking changes hour to hour, but it's there. That's so stinkin' exciting!

I spent the first month and a half of the year writing Love Finds You in Annapolis, Maryland. I wrote it with absolutely no idea if it would be good enough, if Summerside would like it, if it was my ticket to a big publisher or if--as I'd truly begun to think--the Lord wanted me to stay with our small press. Every single day, I woke up and gave that book to Him, saying more than once that it had to be His, because I just couldn't write it otherwise. Unlike Jewel of Persia, it wasn't a story I wrote from a fire within me, feverishly and without the desire to pause. I agonized through every chapter of Annapolis, uncertain the whole way.

I turned it in on my son's birthday, 11 February 2011. For the next month, I couldn't tell you how many times I prayed, "Make me okay, Lord. No matter what happens with it, make me okay." Because I knew that one way or another, I'd have an answer soon, and that this was my only shot with this story.

On March 15, I got the call from my agent. Summerside was buying Annapolis, and it would release 1 December 2011. Nine short months away!

But in this business, you have to always be looking ahead. Publishing lines are scheduled so far in advance, that if I wanted another book out around a year after this one, I had to get cracking now. So throughout the spring and summer, I decided on my next project, found an editor interested in it, and wrote it. I signed with a new agent, the fantabulous Karen Ball. I turned in this project to the editor super-excited about it. Got an offer for another from another. Was offered a three book deal on the one I'd just finished.

A banner year--a shocking, wow-look-how-it-all-clicked banner year. I went from having one solid lead for a contract but absolutely no certainty that I could pull it off, to having five contracted books in the works. I got to watch my biblicals, the stories of my heart, find their foothold. I got to work with some fabulous authors with WhiteFire, contracting and editing three amazing works of historical fiction.

In my personal life, I got to watch my daughter grow by leaps and bounds in her schoolwork, and my son develop a single-minded pursuit of all things with wheels. My hubby and I celebrated our 10th anniversary with an amazing weekend in Niagara Falls, and we topped the year off with a gift of kittens for our kiddos--hands-down the best gift they've ever gotten, they say. =)

Misty morning view of the American falls

My parents looking on while Rowyn jumps on the couch, totally startled, and Xoe squeals in delight.

So here we all are, another new year on the horizon. I'm praying for another word from the Lord to represent 2012, and praising Him for my year of Shining, for all that He did and helped me do in 2011. I'm praising Him for the friends I made, the friends I grew closer to, giving to him my grief over the friend I lost.

My friend Mary, who succumbed to cancer this summer but lives on in the legacy of faith she left in many lives.

Thank you, Lord, for a year of reaping after so many of sowing. Thank you, Lord, for the promise of all that's to come. Thank you, Lord, for planting the garden of my life with so many amazing friendships that have bloomed and made my world beautiful.

Thank you, Lord, for carrying me through every shadow, every valley, so that I can again glimpse and cling to Your shining light.

How was your 2011? And what are you hoping for in 2012?

Thoughtful About . . . A Merry Christmas!

2011-12-22T07:20:00.002-05:00

This is the last post I'll have up before Christmas . . . and probably the last before I do a look-back-over-the-year on next Thursday. So first and foremost, I hope each and every one of you has a fantastic Christmas and that 2011 wraps up well for you!

Excitement is building around here! What presents have arrived are all wrapped--but I'm still waiting for the elves--i.e. the mail lady and UPS guy--to deliver a few. Yikes! Cookies enough have been baked to keep us, though we'll probably make some more over the next week. Our homeschool week is all but done, and we've squeezed a full week's worth of stuff into it. All that's left is some reading-to-her and two math lessons. Woot! We're going to celebrate its completion by watching the Christmas Carol movie that came out two years ago, the one with Jim Carrie and computer animation. I hear it's great. =)

A few highlights for me thus far came from my publishers. The one I still can't talk about yet sent out gifts to all their authors, and it was just so awesome to get that and realize I'm one of their authors! =) And then I got an email from my editor at Summerside that included the information that the cover model for Annapolis isn't a stock photo or hired model as I had assumed, but the friend of someone at Summerside--so cool! And better still, that the model has read and loved Annapolis, and her kids are now calling her "Lark." =) This greatly pleased the folks whose friend she is, and they too are reading and loving the book and referred to me as Summerside's own Jane Austen. Talk about making my day!

Well, my plans for the day involve getting the house ready to receive guests--and kitties--squeezing in some writing, and tying up any other loose ends so we can enjoy the Christmas break. Over which I'll hopefully get lots of writing-work done, LOL.

Merry Christmas, everyone!

Remember When . . . Christmas Was in the Books?

2011-12-21T07:27:00.001-05:00

I've never written a novel set solely around Christmas. But as I'm contemplating fun holiday stuff I could write about here, I realize that both of my last two books have Christmas on the page. Love Finds You in Annapolis, Maryland does in fact take place from the end of November through the end of January, so it's full of Christmasy goodness and many traditions from the day.

If you missed it last year, I blogged about many of these traditions in a post called Remember When . . . Christmas Was Banned? which also (obviously) touches on how Christmas was not an observed holiday in New England.

In Annapolis, Christmas was far from banned. Being Anglican--the only church in the city was what came to be renamed the Episcopal church when it became unpopular to name them "church of England"--the city celebrated in the style of Merry Ol' England. I had a lot of fun writing that chapter too, with mention of wassailing, of the hanging greens, and of the simple gifts they gave each other. (They certainly didn't have to check five different online stores for that remote control car their sons really, really wanted and then bite their nails when they saw it wasn't due to arrive until December 23rd . . .).

When I started writing another Colonial and did all my research, I realized this next one, too, would have to include the Christmas season--though it goes from November to October so certainly doesn't focus on it. Still, Christmas Day gets a chapter.

When I first realized that both my hero and heroine had been either living in or raised in the parts of New England that would not have observed Christmas, I had a moment of panic. Oh no! They wouldn't view Christmas like I do!!! How in the world do I capture their thoughts??

As it turns out, their views of the day came naturally to their characters and in fact really helped me form those characters. See, Winter (my heroine) grew up in a Congregationalist home on Long Island that could trace its roots back to the Puritans. In her home, Christmas was a day of quiet reflection. No gifts, no music, no parties.

Now all of a sudden she's in a home that celebrates--loudly and boisterously. Winter isn't wowed by it--she's saddened and disgusted by it, and feels far, far from home. All she wants on this holy day is to close herself into her room, read her Bible, and spend some time in quiet contemplation and prayer, thinking about what it truly means that Jesus came down as a babe.

Instead, she's forced into an elaborate gown, paraded through a drawing room full of mercenary, shallow socialites concerned only with who got the more expensive gift, and forced to listen to the drunken jolly-making of New York's elite.

Merry she isn't. Because she longs for the quiet of communion with the Lord. Much like she does through the rest of the book.

Though I've always celebrated and loved Christmas, writing that chapter really helped me understand how a different approach could be precious and beloved.

This year, no matter what your traditions are, I pray that you observe them with joy, share them with your loved ones, and come away with that unmistakable Christmas feeling--the one that says, "God has blessed them, one and all."

Story Time - A NECESSARY DECEPTION by Laurie Alice Eakes

2011-12-20T07:44:00.000-05:00

It is 1812, and England is awash with enemies. The French that they've been fighting for years . . . the renewed conflict in America . . . and now there are even uprisings in the north over the mills. Young widow Lady Lydia Gale knows this, knows that England's true enemies may be hidden under a fair facade--but still she must do what she can to help those who need it, those to whom her late, unloving husband took the liberty of pledging her support.

And so she ventures to that dark prison in Dartmoor. So she meets with the strangely compelling Frenchman, Christien de Meuse, and obtains his freedom. So she entrusts him with her last belonging of any worth, the last gift her husband sent her.

So the adventure begins.

Lydia never dreamed that a month later, Christien would arrive in her drawing room in London, directly on the heels of a few other questionable personages. Then again, she also never dreamed she would have been approached by someone claiming to be from the Home Office, who would blackmail her into introducing these unsavory gentlemen into London society. For the sake of her family, she must comply. But at what risk to her country--and to her heart?

Laurie Alice Eakes has done it again. With A Necessary Deception she has penned a novel that combines heart-stopping romance with heart-pounding suspense, crafting characters at once strong but consistent with their times, blind in some ways and brilliant in others. These true-to-life characters of Lydia and Christien--not to mention the wonderfully made secondary characters, especially Lydia's younger sisters--will pull you in from the start and keep you flipping the pages as surely as the espionage and intrigue.

Needless to say, I love this book. I love the cover, so very Regency and elegant. I love the characters, so very real and true. I love the plot, with its questions of who you can trust, whether a man's place of birth determines his loyalties. And I love the romance, its depth and charm, its scope and breadth. As we watch Christien and Lydia dare to open their hearts, it makes us ask ourselves what we would do if drawn to a man who may just be our nation's enemy . . . what we would do if we fell for someone whose life may be endangered by our attention. How far we would go to protect our families.

Beautifully written, masterfully crafted, A Necessary Deception is a book for any lover of historical novels, especially those that combine suspense with romance. This is one you don't want to miss!

Word of the Week - Yule

2011-12-19T07:37:00.003-05:00

In Old English, Christmas day was called geol (not to be confused with gaol, which is jail--ha ha ha), taken from Old Norse jol. Jol was a heathen feast day, taken over by English so long ago that no one's sure exactly when it happened. Though we do know that "jolly" comes from jol. ;-)

Origianlly, geol, or yule, meant solely Christmas Day. It also happens that there was a cognate, giuli, that was the Anglo-Saxon name for a two-month midwinter season of feasting, so the two got mixed together. When English first borrowed the word, it meant the 12 Day Feast of Christmas--December 25 through January 6, the Epiphany. It was largely replaced by the word Christmas by the eleventh century, except for in Danish-settled parts of England.

Writers, however, revived the word in the 19th century to capture the particular charm of Christmas in Merry Ol' England. Oh yes, it's always the writers, LOL.

Yultide (literally yule time or Christmastime) was recorded in the 15th century, and the first written mention of the yule log is from the 17th century and was a ceremonially chosen log (sometimes and entire tree) picked to have an enduring burn for Christmas.

Can you believe there's less than a week until Christmas?? I hope everyone is enjoying this yuletide season!

~*~

And today I'm on Go Teen Writers! It was a fun interview, so be sure to check it out to learn what I would do if captured by kidnappers. ;-)

First Great ANNAPOLIS Giveaway Winner!

2011-12-16T07:53:00.001-05:00

And the first (of two) winners for the Great ANNAPOLIS Giveaway is . . .

Elaine Marie Cooper!

Congrats, Elaine!!

For those of you who didn't win this round (and there are a lot of you--we logged around 330 entries into this baby!), keep on entering, because the second drawing will be on February 15, 2012.

Thoughtful About . . . Shopping

2011-12-15T07:52:00.000-05:00

I'll just come out and admit it--I like getting presents. I do. That surprise of ripping open the paper and finding something underneath that you didn't choose for yourself. That feeling of appreciation that comes from knowing someone took the time to select something for you. And, well, just getting new things. ;-)

I like giving presents. I like putting thought and care into what each person in my life wants and needs. I love finding those gems--like the year we gave my mother-in-law the leg lamp from her all-time favorite move, A Christmas Story. (Or as she calls it, Shoot Your Eye Out, LOL.) I love picking things that I know will make my kids squeal with delight.

But this year . . . I don't know. We're trying to clear some accumulated junk from our house, so I'm rather loath to bring in new junk. You know? In years past when buying for my kids, I would often just grab things to fill out the allotted funds from, say, my grandmother. To fill up the stocking.

After throwing out all the cheap toys that had broken and giving away many of the ones they just don't play with, I'm not doing that this year. This year, my thought is, "I'm not spending the money unless I know they'll love it."

I think it's a good philosophy--accept that it means I'm still not done shopping, and there are only ten days until Christmas. Aaaaggghhhh!

For someone who grew up in a family that celebrated Christmas with joy and generosity (even those lean years, my Mom managed to stretch each dollar so the under-the-tree looked bursting!), I feel downright guilty sometimes for choosing an approach that doesn't result in such bulk. I'm afraid my kids will be disappointed--though we've never bought them a whole lot for Christmas, given how much they get everywhere else.

They never are--my kids don't expect a gazillion gifts from us, and we try really hard to keep their focus on the giving, the giving in honor of Christ.

Still, this year . . . my daughter's dresser is literally bursting with clothes. Literally. I cleaned out probably half their toys, and there are still so many . . . And the rest of my family?? What do they really want, really need?

Well, we solved the dilemma for the kids with these little bundles of joy. The two grays will be ours. =)

I was still stressing about some of the other members of our family, but last night my hubby and I went out on our annual Christmas Shopping Date, and we came up with good things for all, I think. Things that aren't just going to clutter, but are rather going to add meaning.

See, shopping with my husband keeps me in that mindset. He's from a family that gives only what, and when, they think will be special. I don't always like this approach, but shopping with him keeps me from buying junk. It makes me think about how I'm spending each dollar. I needed that--that shift in focus. Our shopping date is in its third year now, and it's a tradition I'm going to cling to just to keep myself in line. ;-)

What are your shopping traditions for this often-hectic time of year?

Remember When . . . We Hung the Greens?

2011-12-14T07:01:00.001-05:00

Christmas is upon us. And as you can tell by looking around at either my blog or my house, it's time to decorate. A Christmas tree, complete with a rainbow of ornaments, most antique. Garland on my shelves. Everywhere is red, green, and white (with a few other colors thrown in here and there).

Me being me, naturally I've been wondering about those colors. ;-) Would my Colonial characters have decorated at all like I do? I know the Christmas tree tradition hadn't made it to unerring popularity over here yet, but the garland? The red accents? Were the Christmas colors the Christmas colors yet?

It only took a quick search to find my answer--a resounding YES! And since I found it interesting, I'll share it with you. =)

The green part of "red and green" I pretty much knew. Since evergreens are the only thing growing in the Western hemisphere this time of year, it was chosen as a decoration--one we could find much significance in, as it's a symbol of eternal life and/or rebirth. There were, of course, traditions surrounding this before Christianity took root--traditions that were easily integrated into the new faith because of how well they represented our ideals.

But red--that's the one I wasn't sure about. And it's been around long enough that historians aren't entirely sure about it. But this is their best guess:

Traditionally, the feast day of Adam and Eve is on Christmas Day. As part of the celebration in the Middle Ages, they would put on a play to educate the illiterate masses about Adam and Eve's story. When they got to the part about the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil their options were limited--the only tree still green was the pine. And the only fruit they had stores was the apple. So they'd tie an apple onto a pine bough, and that would represent their Tree.

Over the years, the red apple snuck into Christmas traditions too, appearing on wreaths and garlands. Red and green soon took hold in its own right. Holly became a popular plant to decorate with solely because it combines those two colors (and is an evergreen so, you know, around in December).

And there we have it! A tradition that has been around for somewhere between 500 and 1000 years, and shows no signs of stopping. =)

As a reminder, you only have until TOMORROW, 15 December, to enter the first round of the Great ANNAPOLIS Giveaway (though entries from after that will go into my second round automatically). Check out the tab at the top to see what all you could win and how to win it!

Word of the Week - Get Back

2011-12-12T06:38:00.000-05:00

I was browsing through the entries for "get" over at www.etymonline.com, trying to discover when "get-go" came into being. Well, I didn't find that (maybe it's been around from the get-go. Ha . . . ha . . . ha . . .), but I did find some interesting info on "get back."

Get back has been used since the 1600s in the sense of "return"--as in, "let's get back to town." That's no big surprise, right? What surprised me was that the transitive sense of "recover"--as in, "Can you get back the money you lost?"--didn't come about until 1808. Rather late for something so literal, in my opinion! And the meaning of "retaliate" didn't enter English until 1888. Very late.

Pretty cool, huh? (Go ahead and say it--I'm a Word Nerd, LOL.)

Oh, and check out my post on RomCon Inc's historical blog today!

And now, consider yourselves cordially invited to an online Colonial Christmas party! The Quillers over at Colonial Quill will all be there chatting, and I hope you can join us!

Thoughtful About . . . The Basics

2011-12-08T07:35:00.001-05:00

We have two cars. The one my hubby was given when he was learning to drive--a '95 Jeep Cherokee--and our Lincoln LS. (These aren't actual pictures of our cars, just online images of the same models--approximately, LOL.)

Xander, the Lincoln, is ten years old but still blinged out for a car of that age. Heated seats. Rain-sensitive windshield wipers whose speed adjusts automatically depending on the rate of rain. Automatic headlights. Climate control. It's a sweet car, and it still looks lean and mean driving around with the newer cars. ;-)

Last night, in the pouring rain, I ended up driving Bartok the Jeep. (Yes, I name my cars, LOL.) Bartok was getting new tires in case we got the predicted snow last night, and I drove him home.

It was pretty funny. I got in and went, "Oh, the seat's all wrong." And I had to move it manually. No pushing of my pre-set button. Then--gasp--the steering wheel was all the way up! I really don't know that I've ever had to move the steering wheel in the Jeep, but miraculously, my hand found that level on its first reach. (Go ahead and laugh at me. I deserve it.)

Positioning correct, I then had a new pause. It was raining, and my wipers weren't just wiping it away. Oh, right--I have to tell them to do that. I flip them on, then realize that the world around me is dark. Headlights. Check. I pull that knob out and feel relatively set to get going.

The steering is different. The brake pedal is softer. And it takes me a good two minutes to realize I need to flip the heat on myself--which I only realize because the windows are fogging up. I've been known to go an entire trip without turning the heat on in the Jeep, LOL.

This always amuses me because, let's face it, it's basic stuff. Stuff I shouldn't have to put so much thought into--but I've been spoiled by Xander. Still, we keep Bartok around. Why? Well, because nothing's like a Jeep. It can go in the snow, it can go in the mud, it can go off road and on road and across road and do it all with cheerful gumption and enough squeaks and jingles and rattles to let you know it's working hard. ;-)

I love Bartok. I love the blingier Xander too, but driving around in the Jeep last night, it really got me thinking.

Is there a better when it comes to this sort of thing?

It all comes down to purpose. Do I drive Bartok every day? No, because it's a two-door and hard for me to get the kids in and out of. But when the first flakes of snow start coming down, you can bet I give Xander a nice pat and say, "Take a break, buddy. Have a snow day. It's your brother's turn." Same goes if we have to haul anything bigger than a paper box. And need I even say that the kids think riding in it is the most fun in the world, because it doesn't happen often?

I think sometimes life, and those of us blundering through it, is the same way. Some of us are a little rough around the edges. Some of us hold up well against the blinged-out world, but are, in truth, pretty modest in comparison. And sometimes it's hard to shift from one path to another, from one calling to another, from one situation to another.

Sometimes we get thrown by having to take care of things we're not used to taking care of. On the other hand, it can be a real treat to reach for that task and see it's already taken care of--that those headlights have already flicked on without any input from you.

But just like with my oh-so-different car-family, it's about the particulars, the circumstances. Sometimes we need to be spoiled.

And sometimes we need to get back to the basics.

In this season of hustle and bustle, of rushing and spending, take some time out for the Bartok situations in your life. Let the bling rest. Let the polish fade. And just enjoy the simple, and all it can do for you that the complex never could.

Remember When . . . The Party Was Colonial?

2011-12-07T08:06:00.001-05:00

Next week I'll be having my first real-life (as opposed to online) book event for Annapolis, at my local library. It's advertised as a Colonial Christmas party, and I'm having fun putting together all the Colonial aspects. I'll be displaying my Great ANNAPOLIS Giveaway items, I think I'll be setting up the little plastic Patriot V. Tory soldiers I have in a mock battle, decorating with greenery . . . and of course, planning a colonial menu. =)

I thought today it would be fun to share with you online folks what my in-person folks will be treated to next week, and the fun recipes I've found for colonial dishes. =)

Before I dive into the goodies, though, don't forget to comment on the THREE interviews I have up right now for chances to win copies of Annapolis AND for entries into the Great ANNAPOLIS Giveaway! They are:

The Love Finds You Blog Party at Seasons of Humility: http://seasonsofhumility.blogspot.com/2011/12/love-finds-you-with-spark-of.html

Trish Perry's Blog: http://trishperry.blogspot.com/2011/12/roseanna-white-and-love-finds-you-in.html

Lena Nelson Dooley's Blog: http://lenanelsondooley.blogspot.com/2011/12/love-finds-you-in-annapolis-maryland.html

Now for the goodies!

First, my menu will feature two savory items--ham, which was a staple of life and parties back in the day, since it could be so easily preserved by smoking and salting. And also popcorn, which hadn't yet reached the widespread popularity of the 1800s, but was certainly around.

Now for the sweets!

Gingerbread

Ingredients

1/2 cup white sugar
1/2 cup butter
1 egg
1 cup molasses
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground ginger
1/2 teaspoon ground cloves
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup hot water

Directions

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Grease and flour a 9 inch square pan.
In a large bowl, cream together the sugar and butter. Beat in the egg, and mix in the molasses.
In a bowl, sift together the flour, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, ginger, and cloves. Blend into the creamed mixture. Stir in the hot water. Pour into the prepared pan.
Bake 1 hour in the preheated oven, until a knife inserted in the center comes out clean. Allow to cool in pan before serving.

Pear Muffins

1/2 cup butter
1 cup sugar
2 eggs
2 cups all purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
2/3 cup buttermilk
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 cup ripe pears, chopped
1/2 cup walnuts, chopped
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon nutmeg
rind of 1 lemon

Preheat the oven to 375. Grease muffin tins. Cream the butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Add eggs, 1 at a time, beating well after each addition. Sift the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt together. Add the flour mixture alternately with the buttermilk and vanilla, mixing just until blended. Do not overmix. In a bowl combine the pears with the walnuts, cinnamon, nutmeg and lemon rind. Gently fold into the batter. Spoon into the muffin tins, filling each tin 3/4 full. Bake at 375 for 25 minutes or until nicely browned. Serve warm with apple butter.

(Thanks to Susan Craft for sharing this one!)

And this one required a bit of introduction--I found repeated mention of "little sugar cakes" as a favorite party food, but had no clue what they were. Petit fours?? Maybe. But as I was searching yesterday, I found this recipe for "Sugar Jumbles / Little Sugar Cakes" which I knew right away were what I was looking for. I'd already discovered that "jumbles" were cookies, and it suddenly clicked about the sugar cakes being the same. So thank you to A Lovely Thought blog (http://anartsideoflife.blogspot.com/2011/04/sugar-cakes-and-tea.html) for this recipe I found!

Sugar Jumbles

little sugar cakes of old-time goodness

Mix together……… 1/2 cup soft butter, 1/2 cup sugar, 1 egg, 1 teaspoon vanilla

Sift together and stir in………. 1 1/8 cups flour, 1/4 teaspoon soda, 1/2 teaspoon salt.

Drop rounded teaspoonfuls about 2” apart on lightly greased baking sheet. Bake until delicately brown… cookies should still be soft.

TEMPERATURE: 375’

TIME: Bake 8 to 10 min.

AMOUNT: About 3 dozen 2” cookies

I like to sprinkle with a powder of sugar on top, and place some pinches of lemon balm from my garden on the serving plate.

Now for the beverages! I'll have coffee, and . . .

Wassail

Ingredients:

1 gallon apple cider
1 large can pineapple juice (unsweetened)
3/4 cup tea

Place in a cheesecloth or mesh sack:

1 Tablespoon whole cloves
1 Tablespoon whole allspice
2 sticks cinnamon

Instructions: This is great cooked in a crock pot. Let it simmer very slowly for 4 to 6 hours. You can add water if it evaporates too much. Your home will smell wonderful, and this is a great way to set the tone for a holiday party!

And finally . . .

Martha Washington's Colonial Chocolate

George Washington’s Favorite Hot Chocolate.

4 Tablespoons Cocoa

Small amount Of Cold Water

2 Cups Water

1/3 Cup Granulated Sugar

2 Cups Milk

2 Tablespoons Cornstarch

Small amount Of Cold Milk

1 Egg

1/2 Cup Hot Water

1/2 Teaspoon Vanilla Extract

Mix Cocoa And Cold Water To A Smooth Paste In A Saucepan. Stir In The 2 Cups Water, Sugar And Milk. Bring To A Boil And Blend In Cornstarch Which Has Been Dissolved In The Cold Milk. Boil 3 Minutes Longer.

Remove From Heat And Set In A Warm Place. Beat Egg And Hot Water Until Light And Foamy. Pour Half Of Egg Mixture Into A Pitcher. Blend In Vanilla Extract. Add To Chocolate Slowly. Pour Remaining Egg Mixture Over Top. Serve.

Word of the Week - Cameo

2011-12-05T08:46:00.000-05:00

I can't tell you how much time I spent chasing rabbits down trails (literarily speaking) for a one-line mention in my books. Like, did they have bells over the doors in 18th century New York? Hard to discover.

This last week, one of my random questions was, thankfully, easily answered. I wanted a character to mention a cameo necklace, which I was pretty darn sure were around and popular by the 1860s, but I've been wrong before. So I looked it up.

I was pleased to see that cameo, by which I mean a carved stone with two layers of color, has been around since the 16th century. Cameos maintained a steady popularity for centuries--Elizabeth I had a sizable collection, as did Catherine the Great. And since Queen Victoria favored them, they even stuck around during the fast-changing fashion of the 19th century.

In 1851 the word was attributed to "a short literary sketch or portrait." Very much related to the pendant, which commonly depict a bust or figure (though not always). And so this sense was also transferred to the stage/film in 1928, when it came to mean "a brief role that stands out from other minor parts in a performance."

I have a cameo necklace I inherited from my great-grandmother, and I love it. =) There's something so very romantic about those treasures from times past . . .

Thoughtful About . . . RELEASE DAY!!!

2011-12-01T07:22:00.000-05:00

It's December 1. As in, December 1, 2011. As in, the official release day of Love Finds You in Annapolis, Maryland. Give me a moment.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Okay, I'm back. ;-)

So this is technically my third Release Day. But it's the first one that was ushered in by a call from my mom that went like this:

Mom: "So do you want the news?"

Me: "What news?" as Rowyn is sitting on the counter with a giant spoonful of yogurt that's threatening to glop its way all over everything.

Mom: "I was in WalMart today, and they had Annapolis out!"

Me, totally ignoring pending yogurt catastrophe: "THEY DID????!!!!!!!!!! Did you take a picture?"

Mom: "Well, I did, yes. Problem is, I can't get it off my phone. So I called your Aunt Pam and told her to go with her iPhone and take a picture and email it to me."

LOL. So it's been spotted. Woot!

Yep, that's my thoughtfulness for the day. =) I'm going to be trying to set up signings here and there and everywhere, which will involve some phone calls today and tomorrow. Which I didn't set up already because November was writing challenge month--not doing THAT in the month before a release again! LOL

Okay, happy day. I have big plans for organizing my basement today, folding laundry . . . all that fun stuff I neglected while trying to write and organize some media stuff. ;-)

Happy Release Day, everyone! And remember to check out my Great ANNAPOLIS Giveaway (linked above) and check out the ways you can rack up those entries! (Including sending me pictures of Annapolis on a shelf in your local store. Yes, I just want to see it for the pure joy, LOL.)

Remember When . . . The Language Changed?

2011-11-30T07:00:00.000-05:00

My poor hero just got shot. Fell overboard. Washed up on a Cuban beach in the Pinar del Rio province, near a few tobacco plantations.

And his poor author suddenly realized that the people there he'd be interacting with would be speaking--gasp--Spanish!

See, I took French in high school. I took French in college (and Ancient Greek). The many, many times I've had characters dealing with French-speaking folk, I do okay. Sure, I'm rusty, but I have that giant, unabridged French-English dictionary sitting on my shelf. I make do. ;-)

Spanish though . . . yeah, my Spanish is limited to what I've learned from Dora and Handy Manny, and the obligatory mannerly phrases. But there's no way around it. Cuba in the 1860s was, quite simply, Spanish. So I must dig out my limited knowledge, pull up an online Spanish-English dictionary, and also call on the help of some fluent Facebook friends who have proven themselves happy to jump into a conversation on which word for "shattered" I should use. ;-)

But the hilarious thing is that, even when I want to pepper in a Spanish word that we all know, I keep messing it up. My thoughts sound something like this: "Okay, 'please.' I know the word for 'please,' obviously. It's s'il vous pl--aggggghhh! Por favor, Roseanna--Spanish. Not French, Spanish!"

So I decided to make another character share my difficulties. ;-) See, one of the primary people in these scenes is a well-educated British man. Who would be fluent in what other language? French! So he, too, gets to keep lasping into the wrong secondary language. =)

Poor Phin will be stranded on Cuba for a couple months. Poor Roseanna will be done writing those scenes in the next couple weeks. But until then, that dictionary tab will stay open in my internet window. Those Facebook friends will remain on call.

And I'll be trying my best not to make a Spanish planter say "Merci, monsieur."

~*~

And don't forget to check out the first blog review of Love Finds You in Annapolis! (Which has a few French phrases! LOL) You can leave a comment for a chance to win a copy. =)

Word of the Week - Morphine

2011-11-28T07:37:00.001-05:00

I know, I know--what a strange, bizarre word of the week. And now y'all are probably wondering what I got into this weekend! ;-)

Actually, it comes up because I'm a cruel author who just seriously injured her hero. I need him to be out of it for a while so said, "Hmm, they had some powerful drugs by then. Was morphine one of them?"

Yep.

And the name is just too interesting not to share. Did you know that morphine is named after one of the Greek gods as brought to us by Ovid in his Metamorphosis? (Not to be confused to Kafka's book by the same name . . . and not to get into how much I despised said book-by-the-same-name each of the three times I was forced to read it . . .)

Anyway. Apparently Ovid gave the name Morpheus to the god of dreams. When the Germans named this lovely drug in 1816, they called it morphin in allusion to Morpheus, because of its sleep-inducing properties. The French, of course, changed it to Morphine. Which we borrowed in 1828 and have been using ever since.

Now to make sure my hero doesn't develop a dependency--he has enough problems to deal with, I don't wanna go there! LOL

And for those of you who are amassing those entries into the Great ANNAPOLIS Giveaway and/or interested in winning a free copy of Love Finds You in Annapolis, Maryland all by its lonesome, hop right back over to the Colonial Quills and leave a comment on my very first full-length blog review. =)

http://colonialquills.blogspot.com/2011/11/review-of-love-finds-you-in-annapolis.html

Thoughtful About . . . Being Thankful For . . .

2011-11-24T14:50:00.000-05:00

Thank you, Lord, for all You do for me. For sending Jesus to save me, for knowing me from eternity, for setting me on this path, surrounding me with friends and family, and holding my hand all through it.

Thank you, Lord, for placing me in a loving family, one that encourages and cheers me on, that holds me when I cry, that dusts off my knees when I fall. For amazing parents and a sister whose smile brightens my day. For nieces and in-laws and extended family that I love so very much.

Thank you, Lord, for my husband. Thank you, thank you, thank you for bringing our lives together so early, for the ten wonderful years of marriage we've already had, and for the future still stretching before us.

Thank you, Lord, for these precious children with whom you've entrusted me. Sweet little Xoe with her generous spirit and creativity, energetic Rowyn with his whole-hearted approach to life. They are blessings beyond compare.

Thank you, Lord, for the friends to whom You've led me. Those from my childhood who helped me grow, those from college who will always be so dear, those I've met through my writing that have become close as family.

Thank you for the one I've lost this year, for the time you gave us together and all the lessons she taught me. Thank you for the ones still fighting, still holding on.

Thank you, Lord, for a year of blessing after journeying through the valley last year. Thank you for a year of five contracts, which just baffles and awes me after working so hard for so long. Thank you for this new book that is even now sitting beside me, and for the ever-increasing success of the ones that came before it.

Thank you, Lord, for all You do for me. For sending Jesus to save me. For knowing me from eternity. For setting me on this path. For surrounding me with friends and family. And for holding my hand all through it.

Remember When . . . Thanksgiving Came?

2011-11-23T06:54:00.000-05:00

We all the know the story of the Mayflower and the very first Thanksgiving.

If you want to learn about how a day was set aside to give thanks in December during the Revolution, following the Battle of Saratoga, you should check out Elaine Cooper's post on the Colonial Quills today.

And if you have all my blog posts memorized going back years (ahem), you'll realize that much of what is to come is reposted from two years ago. ;-)

In the Old Testament there were commands for giving thanks to God, as well as New Testament guidelines. That we take time to give thanks is of vital importance--it not only gives the praise where it's due, it helps us refocus. To get our priorities straight. To really enjoy what we have been given rather than thinking only of what we yet need.

I really love that our country has a history of setting aside a day for this--that some of the first settlers were here to seek free worship of God, and that they honored him for his faithfulness, in spite of the hardships.

I find it even more inspiring that there were people like Sarah Hale who cared enough about this tradition to fight for it. She first succeeded in getting each state to recognize the day, then, eventually, convinced President Lincoln to have the nation honor it as one. At a time when the country was torn by war, this was a monumental moment, one that helped us heal.

In some ways, Thanksgiving is viewed as a "second-rate" holiday to modern people--it doesn't require presents, and in fact is often lost in the anticipation for Black Friday--and for Christmas. It only rates as a chance to host an elaborate meal.

But I remember my own childhood, when I sat back in my room one Thanksgiving smelling that wonderful turkey, knowing that soon my family would be coming. I remember spending some time writing a story about a girl named Felicia, which I knew meant something like "happy." I remember cutting out some construction paper turkeys for all my family members. And I remember thinking, "This is one of the happiest days in the year. Where everyone just comes over to be together."

I still love the holiday for that very reason. It's a chance to come together with those I love and just be. Be there. Be together. Be thankful for all the Lord has given me.

Thank you, Father, for putting me in a country with such a history of recognizing You.

Changes

2011-11-22T05:56:00.000-05:00

In this lovely world I'm in, filled with deadlines (praise the Lord!) and very little free time, it has become necessary to streamline operations. ;-) So, since I haven't been reading enough to share a review every week anyway, and since my Friday features have been fizzling (oh, how I love alliteration! LOL), Tuesday and Friday posts are going to become as-needed. I will still be blogging regularly on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays, but Tuesdays and Fridays will be used only when I have a special announcement about my books, a review I want to feature, or some other bit to share that doesn't fit on M-W-Th.

And in keeping with that, check it out! Amazon is reporting Love Finds You in Annapolis as in stock and 1-2 days of processing away from shipping! Woot!

Happy reading, everyone! And don't forget to visit the Colonial Quill for my interview there! =)

Word of the Week - The Backup Plan

2011-11-21T06:47:00.000-05:00

The other day as I was writing in my work-in-progress, I hit a spot where my heroine's mother is pushing an eligible man toward the heroine (metaphorically, or course, LOL), and my heroine reminds her that she is all but engaged--to which Mama says, "It never hurts to have a backup plan."

But wait--a warning bell went of in my mind. Backup plan. Was that too modern for 1861? A quick hop over to www.etymonline.com and I knew that, yep, it was way too modern.

Back up dates from 1767, but in the sense of "stand behind and support." This is the verb use, what someone does for you or that you do to corroborate facts, perhaps. Evidence will back up a theory, that sort of thing.

The noun form meaning "standby, reserve" didn't come to us until 1954.

But this was one of those that left me staring at the computer with lips pursed and thoughts racing. How in the world could Mama phrase this, then? I ended up using "secondary." But it's obvious I need a better backup plan for when I can't use "backup plan." ;-)

On a side note, my Annapolis Blog Tour is underway! Check out the Colonial Quills for my interview there, and leave a comment for a chance to win a copy, and rack up a few more chances to win my Great ANNAPOLIS Giveaway while you're at it!

Faith on Fridays: I Corinthians 6

2011-11-18T06:46:00.000-05:00

1 Corinthians 6

Avoiding Lawsuits with Christians

¹ When one of you has a dispute with another believer, how dare you file a lawsuit and ask a secular court to decide the matter instead of taking it to other believers^[a]! ² Don’t you realize that someday we believers will judge the world? And since you are going to judge the world, can’t you decide even these little things among yourselves? ³ Don’t you realize that we will judge angels? So you should surely be able to resolve ordinary disputes in this life. ⁴ If you have legal disputes about such matters, why go to outside judges who are not respected by the church? ⁵ I am saying this to shame you. Isn’t there anyone in all the church who is wise enough to decide these issues? ⁶ But instead, one believer^[b] sues another—right in front of unbelievers! ⁷ Even to have such lawsuits with one another is a defeat for you. Why not just accept the injustice and leave it at that? Why not let yourselves be cheated? ⁸ Instead, you yourselves are the ones who do wrong and cheat even your fellow believers.^[c]
⁹ Don’t you realize that those who do wrong will not inherit the Kingdom of God? Don’t fool yourselves. Those who indulge in sexual sin, or who worship idols, or commit adultery, or are male prostitutes, or practice homosexuality, ¹⁰ or are thieves, or greedy people, or drunkards, or are abusive, or cheat people—none of these will inherit the Kingdom of God. ¹¹ Some of you were once like that. But you were cleansed; you were made holy; you were made right with God by calling on the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God.

Avoiding Sexual Sin

¹² You say, “I am allowed to do anything”—but not everything is good for you. And even though “I am allowed to do anything,” I must not become a slave to anything. ¹³ You say, “Food was made for the stomach, and the stomach for food.” (This is true, though someday God will do away with both of them.) But you can’t say that our bodies were made for sexual immorality. They were made for the Lord, and the Lord cares about our bodies. ¹⁴ And God will raise us from the dead by his power, just as he raised our Lord from the dead. ¹⁵ Don’t you realize that your bodies are actually parts of Christ? Should a man take his body, which is part of Christ, and join it to a prostitute? Never! ¹⁶ And don’t you realize that if a man joins himself to a prostitute, he becomes one body with her? For the Scriptures say, “The two are united into one.”^[d] ¹⁷ But the person who is joined to the Lord is one spirit with him.
¹⁸ Run from sexual sin! No other sin so clearly affects the body as this one does. For sexual immorality is a sin against your own body. ¹⁹ Don’t you realize that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit, who lives in you and was given to you by God? You do not belong to yourself, ²⁰ for God bought you with a high price. So you must honor God with your body.

~*~

I really like the perspective this chapter gives on why things are wrong. That our bodies are not our own, but rather belong to God, to Jesus. The verse about joining Jesus to a prostitute--wow. Do we really stop and think, as we're going through our day, that wherever we go, we're taking Him along with us?

We know Jesus didn't shy away from the dark or the ugly. He would go places we deem questionable--but you better bet he would stay above sin while there. And because we are joined with him, because we are His and He is ours, we can do the same.

And yes, I've heard that argument about sex--it's natural! Just like food. But I think Paul answers it perfectly. I think he does a great job drawing out that it's natural when done right, according to God's command.

Thoughtful About . . . Being Wanted

2011-11-17T07:23:00.000-05:00

I'm sitting here with a little boy climbing all over me. Sitting on the arm of my chair. Hanging from my neck. Inching his finger closer and closer to my keyboard. When I send him one of those Mommy looks, he flashes those cute little dimples of his and giggles in that way only little kids can giggle--then lunges across my lap and proceeds to dangle off the chair while kicking me in the face.

Oh, yes. There's nothing like a little kid, and especially a little boy. =)

Over the weekend my church had an open house Thanksgiving dinner and music service to celebrate our new building. After the meal, when we went up to the sanctuary for the music, my daughter and her cousins decided they wanted to sit in the pew in front of us, but Rowyn climbed into his spot on my lap and wouldn't be budged.

As any mother can attest to, there are moments aplenty when you just want two minutes of peace. Two minutes of quiet. Two minutes without hearing, "I want Mommmmmmyyyyyyyyyyyyy!" echoing through your house.

But as any mother can attest to, when you have a sweet little one snuggled in your lap grinning up at you, frustration can't long keep a hold on you. As I sat there in church enjoying the cuddles of my baby, I had one of those moments where I realized that this little boy would soon be a big boy, then a teenager. He will soon grow out of sitting on laps and being perfectly content in my arms. He's my youngest, so it hit me a little harder than it did with his sister.

It's as it should be, yes. Kids have to grow up. Parents' roles shift and change. There are new expectations, new things to delight us. For instance, with my 6-year-old daughter, you can't (or can, LOL) imagine the feeling it gives me when she helps someone younger or brings a smile to an elderly woman's eyes. When she draws a truly impressive picture or astounds me with a bit of insight or logic.

As the kids grow up, they want me in different ways. And frankly, it gets frustrating when they regress and want me to do what they hadn't for months. But thinking about it makes me ponder how the analogy works in faith.

God must really love a new Christian. Love the way they cling to Him with that innocence, with that fear that if they let go, the world may just come and get them. I bet He loves snuggling new believers in His arms and saying "Abba's here. Shhhh. Abba's here."

And maybe there's the heavenly equivalent of a bittersweet pang when He realizes that stage won't last forever. But then, the whole point is to teach us to go out. To grow up. To learn and develop and step out--not on our own, never on our own, but with that degree of independence.

If I'm a good mama, I'm going to equip my kiddos with what they need to move beyond my lap. But it's my prayer they never leave, not in a way that prohibits coming back, coming home, getting a hug.

It's good to be wanted. Certainly in our walk of faith, it's good to rely on God. But He wants us to grow from milk to meat, from uncertainty to trust in the way He's equipped us. Just like I want the cuddles to be punctuated with them doing for themselves, He wants us to rely on Him but also rely on His teachings to go do--do what's He's commissioned us to do.

The adorable little monkey is hanging on my arm again, alternately making me laugh and plead, "Please, Rowyn, two minutes. Just give me two minutes to finish up." Here's praying that today as God looks down on me, He's saying, "I love it when you work right there beside me, Daughter. Know I'm here, always right here . . . but don't be afraid to go do what I've taught you to do."

Remember When . . . More Cultures Clashed?

2011-11-16T06:46:00.000-05:00

One of the most intriguing parts of my current work-in-progress is without a doubt the slave culture in that part of Georgia at the time. I've already blogged on my experience discovering the rich Gullah-Geechee a few weeks ago here: http://roseannamwhite.blogspot.com/2011/10/remember-when-cultures-collided-in-old.html

But I've discovered whole new facets since then. =)

See, one thing I've decided to do is show this rich African-American (and I use that term not in the modern sense but rather as a way of showing how the two cultures combined into something new, the Gullah-Geechee culture) by contrasts within the black characters. It's turning out to be a lot of fun.

First I have Chloe, a young slave who's a mulatto and the daughter of the master--which the mistress knows but the legitimate children don't. Chloe spent the first ten or so years of her life on a rice plantation with her mother and her mother's family.

Now, rice plantations were harsh places, where life expectancy was 5 years in the fields and the infant mortality rate among the slaves was in the nineties. This certainly played a part in the spiritual lives of the slaves and what we today would call their superstitions. In a world where death lurked right around the corner, the underworld was never far away, right?

So Chloe was raised believing spirits came up out the waterways and ghosts haunted the world. Her aunt is a conjurer. It's what she knew. But when she was moved to the city, Christianity became more real to her, and in a way that forced her to separate out some of the "superstitious" beliefs--though it was rare for them all to be abandoned. Still, compared to the other slaves she's around, she'd got a way of thinking more like what we know . . . but with a very strong connection to and respect for that other world that whites couldn't understand.

But then we have Luther, who is a free black born and raised in England. And this is where the fun comes in. =) In England, he was raised with something close to equality, given the chance to be educated and is in fact a minister. He's lived all his life in a fine (if modest) house, with fine (if modest) clothes. But he ends up in Cuba to try to purchase his wife's aging grandmother for her and gets trapped in a whole different world. One where everyone's sneering at him, black and white alike. Blacks because they see him as someone who has forgotten his roots, and whites because he "puts on airs."

A fun contrast to be sure. Chloe and Luther are my two secondary POV characters, one with her Geechee speech pattern, the other with his British accent, and I'm having a blast incorporating them into the story! Can't wait to see how they force my plot to shift and change to adapt to them . . . and how I manage to keep them from taking over, LOL. Good thing Delia and Phin are great characters in their own right!

I would like to draw your attention . . .

2011-11-15T07:02:00.001-05:00

Upward. Have you seen the new tabs up the top here? If you glance up at my pages, you'll notice a couple additions. The first is for the Great ANNAPOLIS Giveaway. You'll want to check this out, as it's such a great giveaway pack that I'm tempted to keep one of them for myself. ;-)

Yes, I admit it--I designed the giveaway so that there's enough stuff in it that you won't wait to see if you won before buying LFY Annapolis. ;-) You'll instead go, "Ooo, look at that journal and quill! And Lark used some just like it? Can't wait to find out where and how! I'm going to get Annapolis. If I win this totally awesome giveaway, I can always give that extra copy to my mom for Christmas . . . or better still, keep the signed one, and give my original copy to the church library!" Yes, I'm just that maniacal. Mwa ha ha ha.

And it's one of those giveaways where you can rack up the entries with each thing you do. So definitely check out the rules, and visit each stop on my blog tour--which is that second new tab up top.

Also, please keep scrolling down the page and see my post from yesterday about an amazing fundraiser for Sandi Rog, who is suffering from cancer.

(For those of you who are shaking your head and saying, "When is she going to talk about books again??" I assure you I did last week, and if you didn't see that post, it was about a truly awesome biblical you should pre-order, by Mesu Andrews: Love's Sacred Song. But at the moment I'm only two chapters into my next book, so . . .)

Special Announcement!

2011-11-14T07:21:00.003-05:00

Hear ye, hear ye! Here's your chance to contribute to a wonderful cause this holiday season--and come away with the work of some of your favorite authors!

One year ago, author and editor Sandi Rog had a big day approaching--the release of her first novel, The Master's Wall. Set in first-century Rome, this is an epic story of faith and love. But the very day her book released, Sandi's life shattered--she learned she had a very aggressive cancer, t-cell lymphoma.

The past year has been a huge struggle for Sandi and her family as she underwent chemo, radiation, and bone marrow transfusion. Just when she thought she had this beast beat, she learned that in fact the cancer is still present. So they're trying a new treatment . . . this one not covered by insurance.

Sandi's friends, both neighbors and online, have rallied together to try to help the Rog family, and Alison Strobel Morrow has developed a marvelous plan. She's hosting a raffle fundraiser whose proceeds will go to the Rogs, with a goal of $20,000. The items to be raffled are all donated, and tickets are $5. You can purchase as many as you want and apply as many tickets per prize basket as you like.

The basket you see above has been assembled by the Colonial Quills, many of whom are dear friends of this dear woman--we have put together a complete box of goodies to be raffled off! The raffle will begin on November 25th, and the CQ items include:

* A signed copy of Love Finds You in Annapolis, Maryland by Roseanna M. White
* A copy of Highland Crossings, signed by contributing author Gina Welborn
* A Pampered Chef knife & dual sharpener - the knife being the favorite utensil of the confectioner heroine of Gina's story, and who wants a dull one?
* A signed copy of The Chamomile by Susan F. Craft
* A packet of chamomile seeds & a packet of chamomile tea
* A mobcap
* A $15 Starbucks gift card
* Surrender the Dawn by MaryLu Tyndall
*Fire Dragon's Angel by Barbara Blythe
*The Colonel's Lady by Laura Frantz

And that's not the only basket I have my hand in! For some great historical fiction plus an amazing gift certificate opportunity, check out this one:

This one includes:

*Jewel of Persia by yours truly - Digital AND Print

* A Stray Drop of Blood by me as well - Digital AND Print

* A Stray Drop t-shirt that reads "One little drop to soil the garment / One little drop to cleanse the soul" (S, M, L, XL available)

* Dance of the Dandelion by Dina Sleiman - Digital AND Print

* Shadowed in Silk by Christine Lindsay - Digital AND Print

* Love Amid the Ashes by Mesu Andrews

* And a $50 gift certificate to the Greek Jewelry Shop!

To get in on the fun and also have the joy of helping a family in need of our prayers and support, please visit www.FundraiserForSandiRog.blogspot.com to view these baskets and many more! Bidding will begin Thanksgiving week!!

Have items you'd like to donate to the cause? Check out the information page at the fundraiser blog. (Individual items will be gathered into "baskets" by the coordinator.)

Faith on Fridays: I Corinthians 5

2011-11-11T07:11:00.000-05:00

1 Corinthians 5

Paul Condemns Spiritual Pride

¹ I can hardly believe the report about the sexual immorality going on among you—something that even pagans don’t do. I am told that a man in your church is living in sin with his stepmother.^[a] ² You are so proud of yourselves, but you should be mourning in sorrow and shame. And you should remove this man from your fellowship. ³ Even though I am not with you in person, I am with you in the Spirit.^[b] And as though I were there, I have already passed judgment on this man ⁴ in the name of the Lord Jesus. You must call a meeting of the church.^[c] I will be present with you in spirit, and so will the power of our Lord Jesus. ⁵ Then you must throw this man out and hand him over to Satan so that his sinful nature will be destroyed^[d] and he himself^[e] will be saved on the day the Lord^[f] returns.
⁶ Your boasting about this is terrible. Don’t you realize that this sin is like a little yeast that spreads through the whole batch of dough? ⁷ Get rid of the old “yeast” by removing this wicked person from among you. Then you will be like a fresh batch of dough made without yeast, which is what you really are. Christ, our Passover Lamb, has been sacrificed for us.^[g] ⁸ So let us celebrate the festival, not with the old bread^[h] of wickedness and evil, but with the new bread^[i] of sincerity and truth.
⁹ When I wrote to you before, I told you not to associate with people who indulge in sexual sin. ¹⁰ But I wasn’t talking about unbelievers who indulge in sexual sin, or are greedy, or cheat people, or worship idols. You would have to leave this world to avoid people like that. ¹¹ I meant that you are not to associate with anyone who claims to be a believer^[j] yet indulges in sexual sin, or is greedy, or worships idols, or is abusive, or is a drunkard, or cheats people. Don’t even eat with such people.
¹² It isn’t my responsibility to judge outsiders, but it certainly is your responsibility to judge those inside the church who are sinning. ¹³ God will judge those on the outside; but as the Scriptures say, “You must remove the evil person from among you.”

~*~

Today's chapter above is brought to us by the New Living Translation ... and ought to hit home for society today.

Do we ignore this chapter? It seems like too many Christians do. I don't know about you, but I've had friends aplenty in the church who fell prey to sexual sin. It's one of those things that can sometimes still shock us, but which in general we've become desensitized to.

That makes me so, so sad.

I understand sexual temptation. I understand passion. As anyone who has read my books can attest to, I believe that passion is a necessary and beautiful part of life. But I also believe it can be destructive if we let it rule us when we ought to keep it bridled.

Paul doesn't sugarcoat the issue here--he calls it out more strongly than I've ever noted him calling out anything else. In other parts, he invites us to admonish our brothers and sister who are sinning, to challenge them to stop and confess their sins. Then, if they don't cease their bad behavior, to cast them out. But he doesn't give them a second chance here, does he? He says, "Throw them out and hand them over to Satan."

Yikes. Though I mean, a guy with his stepmother ... and they were boasting about it??

This is a tough issue, one that's made all the more confusing to modern readers by changes in marriage customs over the centuries. Things are formal now that didn't used to be, and lax that were once formal. But one thing remains unchanged:

God calls us to something holy and beautiful. And all too often, we throw it away.

I'd really like to get a conversation going on this oh-so-important topic. What are your thoughts?

Thoughtful About . . . Keeping Up

2011-11-10T07:05:00.000-05:00

I've realized something over the last two weeks: I can't do it all.

I know, right? SHOCKER. Call the local news! Roseanna White cannot do everything! ;-) But seriously, this was a big deal for me. This realization that I have finally reached my saturation point, that I have taken on all I can handle and maybe a little bit more.

That something's got to give, and it's going to have to be my stubborn determination to keep all those balls in the air.

I've had these days and weeks before, the ones where I feel totally overwhelmed and ready to snap. But usually, those have been from self-imposed deadlines (which I take just as seriously as outside-imposed ones, but still), from self-determined tasks.

Not so right now. Now I have obligations to others, people depending on me for things only I can do. I'd be happy to delegate--really, I would be. But can someone else write my books for me?

Um, no.

Can someone else do my editing?

Um, not really, no--not some parts of it.

Can someone else pack up all the books, manage all the lists? If we hire someone, but at the moment, I'm it.

Can someone else teach my kids?

Well, actually...

See, my husband and I decided back when we were in high school that we were going to homeschool. We knew that was what we were supposed to do to guarantee that our kids got the education we really want them to have. And I love knowing exactly what they're taught, exactly how they're doing. I love being able to answer their questions.

I love it--but I'm afraid that with all that's on my plate right now, I'm not giving it the attention it needs. And I've had to entertain the notion this past week that at a certain point, what's best for my kids' education might not be me.

Ouch.

It's hard for someone who has always been confident in her ability to do whatever she set her mind on to admit that maybe she's let things slip too far. Maybe she's hurting more than she's helping. Maybe the messy house has degraded into a certifiable disaster zone, maybe the good intentions aren't enough, maybe some things would be better off if she got her hand out of them.

But that's where I am. And you know, realizing that is . . . freeing. All of a sudden I know that some things are going to change. And I know that it's going to take time and work to change them. But I can hear the Lord whispering in my ear, "I ask you to do your tasks, daughter--not everyone else's. Do them, do them well. And then let go."

Sometimes trying to keep up is just a matter of pride, not a matter of doing what you actually should. I think that's where I've been lately. But it's finally to the point where I want to let some things go. Where the blessings in one realm are going to help me balance out the need in another. Thank you, Lord, for letting it work that way!

I don't think change is ever easy, but you know--sometimes staying the same is even harder. There comes a time when we can't keep up with the race we've entered. It doesn't mean we should give up . . . just that we should take a different course.

Remember When . . . Annapolis Came to Life?

2011-11-09T07:48:00.001-05:00

Yikes! I looked down at my clock and realized I'd totally spaced my blog this morning, largely because I'm several other places today. So I'm going to throw together a hodge-podge for you. =)

First, if you are just dying for that taste of Wednesday history and missed my Fashion Baby post a couple months ago, hop on over to the Colonial Quills and check out my In Ye Olden Days feature about the dolls that brought us our fashion news in the 18th century at http://colonialquills.blogspot.com/2011/11/in-ye-olden-days-fashion-babies.html.

And today is kind of a sneak peek of my blog tour! The first interview with me that has some focus on Love Finds You in Annapolis, Maryland is up today on Anne Payne's Stuff and Nonsense blog. Stop on by here: http://duhpaynes.com/2011/11/09/author-interview-roseanna-white/!

All my future tours will probably be only a few days in length with multiple stops per day, but this one is spread out through December and January, and will begin and end with what is shaping up to be an awesome giveaway package, if I do say so myself. ;-) The official tour launches on Colonial Quills and will wrap up on Seekerville, so I'm very excited!

A peek at that giveaway package . . .

A leather Bombay journal, much like the one Lark received for Christmas in Chapter Eight.

A French quill and ink set, much like the one Lark would have written with in above journal. ;-)

A Colonial-style mug with individual packages of gourmet hot chocolate ~ chocolate being a favored drink of the era, though thicker and richer than these are likely to be (I haven't ordered the mugs yet . . . am hoping to find some from our local pottery store. So this picture won't likely be exact, though the style is what I'll be seeking).

A Colonial-styled doll, not unlike the fashion babies in the post I linked to above. ;-) (Hey, gotta give something that'll interest the kids in your life!)

And of course, a copy of Love Finds You in Annapolis, Maryland signed by yours truly. ;-)

This isn't the official prize information or anything, so some changes are likely, and I haven't yet ironed out the details of entering. But I'm looking forward to the launch of Annapolis and seeing it come to life! Hope y'all are excited too. =)

Story Time . . . Sneek Peek at LOVE'S SACRED SONG by Mesu Andrews

2011-11-08T06:52:00.000-05:00

"Stunning in its depth and scope, Love's Sacred Song is a story of love and

passion, faith and flaws that will haunt you forever. Mesu Andrews crafts characters that will capture your heart with prose that will stir your soul. Masterful."

~ Roseanna M. White, author of Jewel of Persia and Love Finds You in Annapolis, Maryland

Yes, I'm quoting myself. ;-) That's a recent endorsement I wrote for Mesu Andrews's next Biblical love story, set to release in March of 2012. When I realized she had written a book based on Song of Solomon, I was intrigued. And when I began reading it, I was awed.

Young King Solomon knows he has been chosen by God to rule Israel--but how is he to live up to his father David? He is no shepherd-king, he is sure he lacks the strength of soul needed to be a good ruler. And so when God visits him in a dream, he requests wisdom . . . but it seems the wisdom is granted only for political matters, for Solomon cannot seem to understand matters of the heart.

Arielah, a shepherdess from Shunam, has known in her heart for years that she is destined to be Solomon's wife, and already she loves the man she has never even met. When the northern tribes of Israel threaten an uprising following the shameful treatment of one of their own in the Judean palace, her wise father plans to make peace by offering her as a treaty bride to Solomon.

But can a humble shepherdess ever find a place in the harem of the king, especially when he has put his trust in traitors who hate her? And can a king renowned for wisdom ever learn how to love in the way of a common man?

I can say in all honesty that Arielah is one of my all-time favorite heroines. It's tough to pull off a character who's righteous and strong and still make her realistic, but Mesu Andrews does a fabulous job. Her little shepherdess sometimes lacks for confidence, sometimes knows fear, sometimes clings to anger--but the Lord remains always her beacon, and her love remains always strong. I LOVE THAT!! Conflict abounds on every page for lovely Arielah, and her story will twist and squeeze your heart and bring you to tears--yet deliver hope and victory.

Solomon made me want to smack him a few times, which is just as it should be. ;-) I loved how she balanced out the very fallible man with the very wise ruler--powerfully done.

Love's Sacred Song takes its place among my favorites. If you love Biblical fiction, this book is a MUST. The love story will leave you breathless, the intrigue will have you biting your nails, and the faith of the heroine will inspire you to keep your hands always in the Lord's.

Pre-order this one now from ChristianBook or Amazon!!!

Word of the Week - Just Kidding

2011-11-07T06:51:00.000-05:00

I like the word "kid." I use it with my children (do you know how hard it was for me to write that sentence without using the word "kid"? LOL), I use it for jests. It's a standard part of my vocabulary. But I'll never forget the substitute teacher in high school who said something about how his children were not young goats, so thank you not to use that word. And one of my critique partners recently caught me using it in the joking sense well before it would have been.

It seemed time to look it up. =)

"Kid" entered English with the meaning of "a young goat" round about 1200. It began being applied to children in 1590, though it was still slang at that point. It was accepted usage, however, by 1840 . . . and had in fact been a word used to describe skillful young thieves for 30 years before that. (One I didn't know!)

The meaning of "playful tease" is from 1839 (which proves that it was a well accepted slang by then) and comes from the idea of "making a kid of, treating as a child." Though those thieving youngsters used it to mean "coax, wheedle, hoax."

So there you have it--a brief explanation of why we now kid our kids. ;-)

On a side note, many of you know about the amazing author Sandi Rog and her battle with cancer this past year. If you haven't heard yet about the fundraiser put together for her, please check it out at www.FundraiserForSandiRog.blogspot.com. It's a really fun raffle with lots of prize "baskets" you can bid on with your donations, and you'll find two that I helped put together, one of which is featured on the blog now, here. (The other isn't up on the site yet, but keep tuned in for updates!)

Please check this out and tell all your friends about it--it's not only a fun chance to win some great prizes, but most of all it's a way to help a wonderful woman who needs your prayers and support.

Faith on Fridays: I Corinthians 4

2011-11-04T06:42:00.000-04:00

Today I thought I'd try out the New Living Translation as we continue in our online study of I Corinthians.

1 Corinthians 4

Paul’s Relationship with the Corinthians

¹ So look at Apollos and me as mere servants of Christ who have been put in charge of explaining God’s mysteries. ² Now, a person who is put in charge as a manager must be faithful. ³ As for me, it matters very little how I might be evaluated by you or by any human authority. I don’t even trust my own judgment on this point. ⁴ My conscience is clear, but that doesn’t prove I’m right. It is the Lord himself who will examine me and decide.

⁵ So don’t make judgments about anyone ahead of time—before the Lord returns. For he will bring our darkest secrets to light and will reveal our private motives. Then God will give to each one whatever praise is due.

⁶ Dear brothers and sisters,^[a] I have used Apollos and myself to illustrate what I’ve been saying. If you pay attention to what I have quoted from the Scriptures,^[b] you won’t be proud of one of your leaders at the expense of another. ⁷ For what gives you the right to make such a judgment? What do you have that God hasn’t given you? And if everything you have is from God, why boast as though it were not a gift?

⁸ You think you already have everything you need. You think you are already rich. You have begun to reign in God’s kingdom without us! I wish you really were reigning already, for then we would be reigning with you. ⁹ Instead, I sometimes think God has put us apostles on display, like prisoners of war at the end of a victor’s parade, condemned to die. We have become a spectacle to the entire world—to people and angels alike.

¹⁰ Our dedication to Christ makes us look like fools, but you claim to be so wise in Christ! We are weak, but you are so powerful! You are honored, but we are ridiculed. ¹¹ Even now we go hungry and thirsty, and we don’t have enough clothes to keep warm. We are often beaten and have no home. ¹² We work wearily with our own hands to earn our living. We bless those who curse us. We are patient with those who abuse us. ¹³ We appeal gently when evil things are said about us. Yet we are treated like the world’s garbage, like everybody’s trash—right up to the present moment.

¹⁴ I am not writing these things to shame you, but to warn you as my beloved children. ¹⁵ For even if you had ten thousand others to teach you about Christ, you have only one spiritual father. For I became your father in Christ Jesus when I preached the Good News to you. ¹⁶ So I urge you to imitate me.

¹⁷ That’s why I have sent Timothy, my beloved and faithful child in the Lord. He will remind you of how I follow Christ Jesus, just as I teach in all the churches wherever I go.

¹⁸ Some of you have become arrogant, thinking I will not visit you again. ¹⁹ But I will come—and soon—if the Lord lets me, and then I’ll find out whether these arrogant people just give pretentious speeches or whether they really have God’s power. ²⁰ For the Kingdom of God is not just a lot of talk; it is living by God’s power. ²¹ Which do you choose? Should I come with a rod to punish you, or should I come with love and a gentle spirit?

~*~

I have young kids, so that last part really hits me. In fact, I just had a conversation like this with my daughter yesterday. After calmly urging her to listen to me for quite a while, I finally raised my voice and made her sit in a corner (old school, lol) for a few minutes. She said, at one point, "I don't like it when you yell!" To which I replied, "Then listen before it comes to that."

This is so often how we act spiritually. We choose not to listen to the loving admonitions and then can't understand why we get yelled at. We think we know best, and that makes us prideful. I really love how Paul relates this whole section to a family dynamic.

The other thing to strike me was his feeling of being put on display before both men and angels. I'd welcome your thoughts on that.

Thoughtful About . . . Being Brave in the Dark

2011-11-03T07:05:00.000-04:00

Yesterday was a fun day. After the first chunk of home school, the kids and I went to the market (not the fun part). When we pulled back in at the house, my hubby was out on the porch, inspecting three large boxes that must have been delivered while I was gone and he at work in his basement office.

Now, we get deliveries regularly. But those looked like book boxes, and I knew for a fact we hadn’t ordered any more books (though not long ago we got several similar-looking deliveries for our WhiteFire titles). So I yell to my hubby, “Is it Annapolis??!!”

He looked up at me with that crooked smile that said, “Do I have x-ray vision all of a sudden?” and replied, “If I were to guess.”

Torn between frozens and the first glimpse of my book, I did what any author-woman would do. I asked David to pretty-please carry the books into the house and made a mad dash for the second (and last) load of groceries. Then promptly abandoned the food and dug the scissors out of the drawer.

Yeah, I was a little giddy as I opened it up, pulled out a mountain of white packing paper, and lifted my book out. The cover has a matte finish, just so ya know, and is even prettier than the online image. =) My biblicals both have glossy finishes, so at once this felt different. Not to mention the joy of being surprised with it–I always knew when my WhiteFire books were coming.

Reality took all of 30 seconds to intrude as my kids said, “Yeah, great, Mommy. Can we have lunch now?” LOL. And so the day went on. More school. Writing. Dishes. Ballet. Peeling wallpaper off the walls at our new church. The glamor. ;-) But I kept one of those books on the table beside me, rest assured!

On our way back in at 7 last night, as we were coming yet again onto our porch, Rowyn (who had announced himself afraid of the dark five minutes earlier in the church parking lot) told me, “I’m brave in the dark now, Mommy. The light helps me be brave in the dark.”

I laughed and made a note to post that one on Facebook. But it also really hit home. So often when we’re going through life, we feel like we’re in the dark. No idea where our path might take us, sometimes not even sure we’re on the right one. It’s scary. It’s hard. It can be discouraging.

But it’s crucial that we realize we’re not in full dark. Even when the night surrounds us, there’s always a lamp there to make sure we don’t stumble–so long as we stay in its protective circle.

I can’t tell you how many times on this journey to publication I’ve felt like I’m standing alone in a vast, dark parking lot, with nothing but an ocean of blackness around me. But the Lord has shone that porch light on me through the years, guiding me where I needed to go. And when I followed, he then led me to a warm, bright kitchen. Filled with books with my name on their covers. =)

I know the journey’s not over. I’ll have to go back out in the night. Have to worry with sales numbers and new projects. Scary stuff! But I intend to emulate my wee one in this, and be brave in the dark.

Thanks to the Light that shines through the blackest night.

Remember When . . . Tea Came in Bricks?

2011-11-02T06:00:00.002-04:00

Last week a friend of mine from Colonial Quills made mention of "brick tea." Now, I had no idea what in the world she was talking about. Until this arrived in the mail yesterday:

The moment I withdrew this brick from its bag, the scent of tea wafted up to me. My daughter, who runs to the kitchen the moment she senses a package being opened, rushed out just then, saw the brown-paper-wrapped block, and said, "What's that?" My answer was to hold it out and say, "Smell."

You should have seen her eyes light up with delight and disbelief as she squealed, "Tea?!"

Tea has been a staple of many societies for centuries. But loose leaf tea is hard to transport, so back in the days of the silk road in Asia, the Chinese discovered that if they use forms to press the tea into standard sized bricks, they can transport them with ease, and the tea lasts through the journey.

This became such a standard that tea bricks could be used as currency, and this was the way most tea was transported for hundreds of years, all the way into the 19th century. So the tea tossed into Boston Harbor during the Boston Tea Party? That was bricks.

Naturally, when something is used so long, for so many purposes, there comes to be a rhyme and reason to each part of it.

I don't know if you can read the label on this, but if you do, you'll find its "translation"--what each part of it means.

The front of this particular brick has details that let buyers know that this tea comes from a company managed by more than one person, and is manufactured by Enterprise Company Tea and the Chinese Lee family.

The back of the brick is separated into squares that can be used as currency. One square, for instance, might equal the price of a chicken

In addition to being brewed, the tea traditionally pressed into bricks can also be eaten. I don't intend to try that, gotta say, but I am looking forward to separating some, putting it into my tea ball, and brewing myself a nice cup of fine black tea . . . with history.

Story Time - Chapter One of LFY in Annapolis, Maryland!

2011-11-01T06:00:00.007-04:00

There is exactly one month until the release of Love Finds You in Annapolis, Maryland, and while I really don't mean to keep featuring my own book on Tuesdays, lol, I just received permission to share the first chapter for promotional purposes, so I thought I'd pass along the sneak peek. =)

Chapter One

Endover Plantation, outside Williamsburg, Virginia

25 November 1783

Perhaps if Lark recited the pirate’s code it would steal his attention. She could try standing on her head. Or if those options failed—as surely they would—she could throw herself to the floor before him.

Except Emerson Fielding was as likely to mistake her for a rug as to realize he ought to help her up. Lark indulged in a long sigh and cast her gaze out the window. The plantation lay dormant and brown.

Most days saw Papa and Wiley in Williamsburg, swapping stories at R. Charlton’s Coffeehouse. Emerson usually met them there, which was why this was the first she’d seen him in a month. Heaven knew he wanted only to see them, never her.

She wished her heart hadn’t fluttered when he entered the room. Wished the disappointment hadn’t followed so quickly when he barely glanced her way. Wished she had the courage to command his

attention…and he the sense to give it without her command.

Life would be so much easier if she weren’t in love with Emerson Fielding. But what young lady wouldn’t be captivated by those dark eyes, the strong features, the height that left him towering above

other men?

Today his hair was unpowdered and gleamed sable. He was in undress, his coat the common one he wore every day, unlike what he was sure to don for her birthday dinner that evening. His smile lit up

his eyes, his laugh lit up the room.

Neither one did he direct toward her.

Lark’s gaze flicked down to the emerald on her finger. Two years. Twenty-four months. Seven hundred thirty interminable days. Not that she was keeping account.

“Hendricks ought to be at the coffeehouse about now,” her brother said, standing. He tugged his waistcoat into place and tightened the band around his hair. “We have just enough time for a cup of chocolate with him.”

She would not sigh again, it would be redundant. Why protest the usual, even if today was supposed to be distinctive?

As if reading her mind, Wiley flashed a twinkling gaze her way and grinned. “Of course, you will want to wish my dear sister happy returns before we head out, Emerson. I shall go fetch my overcoat and

hat while you do so.”

For the first time in the two hours he had been there, Emerson looked her way. And like every time he looked her way, she wished she had more to offer his gaze. Perhaps if she shared the golden-haired

beauty of her mother and sister, his eyes mightn’t go empty upon spotting her.

He smiled the practiced smile gentlemen were taught to wear in company, not the earnest one he shared with her brother. “Are you having a pleasant birthday, darling?”

An unexpected wave of anger crashed over her. “Do you never tire of using endearments you don’t mean?”

Well, that earned a spark in his eyes. Not exactly one of delight or affection, though. “I take it you are not having a pleasant day. Well, perhaps I can brighten it.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a box

covered in a scrap of printed calico.

She could manage no enthusiasm for what was sure to be another gift of jewels. He never seemed to grasp that she wanted no more things. She wanted his love—something he was either unwilling or incapable of giving. “What is it?”

His smile was right, teasing. But no secret knowledge nested in his expression. “Open it and see.”

“You haven’t any idea, have you?” She shook her head and looked out the window again as he strode toward her chair. His mother had undoubtedly foisted it upon him as he left, otherwise he wouldn’t have remembered what the date signified.

She often wondered if his mother had also foisted that first gift of jewels upon him two years before.

His breath hissed out. “Of course I know what it is, but you shan’t cajole it out of me. You will have to open it yourself to see.”

The wrapped box appeared under her nose. She took it, careful to avoid brushing his outstretched palm with her fingers. It would only make awareness shiver up her arm, an unnecessary reminder of her

unrequited attachment. Once she held it, though, she made no move to untie the ribbon.

Emerson shifted, impatience coming off him in waves. “Open it, Lark.”

She shook herself. “But of course. I am certain you wish to hasten to your coffee and conversation. What will the topic be today? Congresses, constitutions, or crop rotations?”

Wiley would have appreciated the alliteration. Emerson greeted it with a rudely arched brow. Tempted to return the insult and roll her eyes, she tugged at the bow. Unfolded the cloth. Lifted the lid of the

small wooden box.

Lessons in propriety had never covered how to handle a surprise like this. Lark gasped.

Emerson muttered a curse that proved he not only knew not what present lay inside, he disapproved of his mother’s selection.

She leapt to her feet and shoved the glittering diamond necklace into his stomach. “Absolutely not. I cannot accept that.”

His hand caught the box, but a war to rival the Revolution charged across his face. He wanted to take the jewels back, without question. But pride would not allow him. He held out the box. “Don’t be ridiculous. I want you to have it.”

An unladylike snort nearly slipped out. “Yes, that was apparent from your reaction. I will not, Emerson. Your sisters have told me of this necklace, and I shan’t accept the most valuable possession in the

Fielding family—especially when it becomes increasingly clear I will never be a member of said family.”

Thunder darkened his complexion. “What madness is this? You are my betrothed, and you will accept the gifts I give you.”

The emerald on her left hand felt heavy. “Perhaps what I ought to do is return the ones you have already given. They are naught but mockery.”

She reached for the clasp of the bracelet that matched the ring. Her breath caught when his fingers closed around her wrist. He all but growled. “You will do no such thing.”

“Prithee, why not?” Though she struggled to pull free, he held tight to her arm. “ ’Tis obvious you’ve no desire to make me your wife. For two years you have dodged every mention of nuptials, making a fool of me in front of our families and friends. For the life of me, I know not why you ever proposed. Release me.”

He shook his head. “Calm yourself, Lark. Is that what this is about? The blasted wedding date? Deuces, I would agree to any date you want, if you would just be reasonable!”

“I have had my fill of reason. I want a morsel of your regard, and I will not marry you without it.” She gave one more vain tug against his fingers. “I tire of being alone at your side, Emerson. I cannot subject myself to a lifetime of it.”

Through the tears burning her eyes, she saw his face harden, then relax. His grip eased, but he did not release her wrist. Simply pulled it down and then held her hand. The warmth that seeped into her palm belied the cool words she had spoken.

Yet his smile was no more than it had ever been. “I have been remiss, darling, and I apologize. I assure you, you are my chosen bride. It has simply been a struggle to readjust to social life. After Yorktown…”

Anger snapped at her heels again, largely because of the compassion he called up with the mere mention of Yorktown. How could anyone—man, woman, or child—argue with one who had been at the dreadful battle? The moment a soldier uttered that word, all arguments necessarily ceased.

In this particular case she could not help but think he used it for that very purpose. “Emerson—”

“I shall make it up to you. Let us set a date this moment, and I will be the figure of devotion.” The idea seemed to pain him—his smile turned to a grimace. For a man with a reputation as a charmer, he did a remarkable job of dashing her heart to pieces.

She sucked in a long breath. “I shan’t hold you to the engagement. If you—”

“Not another word of such nonsense. Let us say the first Sunday in March, shall we? The worst of the winter weather ought to be over by then. We can announce it to our parents this evening.”

It should have brought joy instead of defeat. It should have lit hope instead of despair.

He pressed the necklace back into her hands. “Take it, my darling. Wear it on our wedding day.”

Before she could decide whether to relent or argue, he pressed a kiss to her fingers and fled the room as if the hounds of Hades nipped at his heels. Lark sank back into her chair and flipped open the box so she could stare at the large, perfect gems resting within.

Why did the thought of marrying her light such fires of panic under him? Lark rested her cheek against her palm and let her tears come.

She should have tried the pirate’s code.

* * * * *

Emerson scraped the tavern chair across the wooden floor, fell onto its hard seat, and, for the first time in his memory, wished Wiley Benton would hold his tongue for five blasted minutes. He barely saw the familiar whitewashed walls, the wainscoting, the multitude of friendly faces. His mind still reeled, wrestling with images of those blinding diamonds—and the equally blinding tears in Lark’s eyes.

What had Mother been thinking, blithely handing off the most valuable Fielding possessions? The diamonds—to Lark. It was beyond fathoming. They would overwhelm her. Eclipse rather than complement. And to have them abiding outside Fielding Hall for the next several months…

Still, he should not have lost his head. Then she wouldn’t have lost hers, and he wouldn’t have talked himself straight into a trap.

“What can I bring you gentlemen today?”

He looked up at the tavern’s owner but couldn’t dredge up a smile. No matter—Wiley would smile enough for the both of them. “Chocolate,” his friend said.

“Make mine coffee, if you please, sir.”

“That I will. And I shall direct Hendricks your way. He and the governor are chatting in the back corner.”

“In a few moments,” Emerson answered before Wiley could supply what was sure to be thankful acceptance.

As the proprietor stalked off, Wiley lifted his brows in that particular way that bespoke both humor and confusion. “What plagues you, man? You have been playing the dunderhead ever since we left Endover.”

“I played it while there too.” Indulging in a mild oath, he swept his tricorn off his head and plopped it onto the table between them. “I upset your sister.”

“Lark?”

“Well, your other sister was hardly there to be upset.”

Wiley took his hat off as well, his confusion plain on his face. “But Lark is so rarely in an ill temper. She especially shouldn’t have been, given the good news of our cousin’s delayed arrival.”

Under normal circumstances, Emerson would have been amused at his friend’s perpetual dislike of the family soon arriving from Philadelphia. At this moment he gave not a fig who was coming or when. “Apparently all it takes is overreacting when one sees one’s mother wrapped up the family diamonds for her.”

Wiley looked near to choking. “The ones your father goes ever on about? That had belonged to the countess?”

“The very ones.”

Wiley let out a muted whistle. “I cannot conceive she accepted them. Especially if you seemed opposed.”

“I had already insisted I knew what the gift was, though I did not. Then rather than returning just the diamonds, she grew angry and made to return all the Fielding jewels.”

Wiley’s eyes widened, and he leaned over the table. “What did you say to her?”

Emerson waved him off. “It hardly matters. I smoothed matters over, and we decided on a wedding date. The first Sunday of March.”

Instead of seeming satisfied, Wiley’s gaze went probing, and then accusing. “So simply? After shifting the topic away from the wedding each time my parents mentioned it the past two years? Frankly, Emerson, we have all doubted your intentions of making good on your promise.”

“Of course I intend to make good on it.” It was an advantageous match all round. The Bentons were a wealthy, respected family, perfectly equal to the Fieldings. Lark herself would make an excellent wife. She was well bred, well taught, not homely—if not as lovely as her sister, who was now Mrs. Hendricks. Sweet of temperament—today aside. He liked her well enough and expected he would come to love her in a decade or so, once they had a brood of children between them.

And she loved him, as his own sisters had pointed out two years ago.

Wiley narrowed his eyes. “Emerson, you know I would welcome you eagerly into our family, but I confess the longer this drags out, the more misgivings I have. You treat my sister no differently now than you did when she was a child, dogging your heels and sending us up a tree to escape her.”

Perhaps that was the problem. She still seemed twelve to him, as she had been when he’d returned from England to fight for freedom from it. She still looked at him with the same blind adoration, still sat silently by whenever he was near.

That would change once they were wed though, surely.

“Emerson.” Wiley’s tone had turned hard, though barely more than a murmur. “I will see my sister happy. If you still dream of Elizabeth, if you cannot love Lark, then release her from the betrothal and let her find someone who can.”

The name snapped his spine straight. Fight as he might against it, the image nonetheless surfaced of a woman as opposite Lark as one could find. Did he dream of her? Only in his worst nightmares. “Rest assured your sister is loved.”

His friend’s eyes narrowed. “If I did not know better, I would call that a cunning evasion. Loved she is. But I would have her loved by you.”

As would he. He could manage it, assuredly. He simply must put his mind to it, as he had to Newton’s Principia Mathematica back at King William’s School. “You have no reason to fear for your sister’s heart, Wiley. I will be a good husband.”

In three short months.

“You look more frightened than when we saw our first Redcoats advancing, muskets at the ready.” Amusement laced its way through the frustration in Wiley’s tone. “I would have many a laugh over this were it not my favorite sister that made you wince so.”

“I am not wincing.” Much.

“Benton, Fielding! There you are.” Hendricks’s voice came from the corner of the room, where the man had stood and waved a greeting to them. “I shall join you in a moment.”

“We await you eagerly,” Wiley replied with his usual grin. When he turned back around, it shifted and hardened into the expression few knew. But Emerson did, from the field of battle. It was the look that had always appeared on his friend’s face moments before he let out a war cry and charged into the thick of things. “If you hurt Lark,” he murmured so quietly Emerson could barely hear him, “I will kill you—or make you wish I had.”

“I know you would. ’Tis not at issue.” Twenty-five years of friendship had not been threatened by competition, an ocean’s distance, or the ravages of war. He would not allow it to be distressed by one small, unassuming woman.

And because I know you're now totally hooked (right?? right??? lol) the links for ChristianBook and Amazon again. =)

Word of the Week - Halloween

2011-10-31T06:00:00.001-04:00

I've given Halloween a lot of thought since having kids, have debated it and pondered, have looked up its history and tried to decide where I come down on it. Inevitably, I come to the conclusion that, like a Christmas tree or the face of Jesus most often used (stolen from Zeus, if you didn't know, LOL), it has its roots in paganism, yes. But like a Christmas tree or how I envision my Savior, it's about my heart, not any outward appearances.

That said, I still find the history fascinating. This is me, after all. ;-) And since this is me, chances are good that all the times I've looked this up and read about it have turned into a bit of a story in my mind, so if I get something wrong, don't hold it against me, LOL. I'm going on memory here, along with the history of the word itself given by www.etymonline.com. =)

Halloween is a Scottish shortening of "Allhallow-Even." Literally, the Eve of All Hallow's Day. We don't use the word "hallow" much these days, but it means "holy, consecrated." More, it means to make something holy or consecrated. So when we pray "hallowed be thy name," we are saying WE will make it, keep it holy.

Now, in the Celtic calendar, this was the last night of the old year, a witch's night. When the Christians came in, they "hallowed" the day--they deemed that that was the day when they would pay respect to all the saints not otherwise honored on a given day.

Needless to say, this wasn't a seamless transition. Christianity obviously was not embraced overnight, and whether one observed the old Celtic rituals or the new Christian ones was a cause of great strife. Fear. Panic. And sometimes death.

Halloween was serious business. People honestly believed ghosts and ghouls and witches would be on the prowl, hunting their souls--and they may have been right. So they prayed, and they called on the traditions that hadn't quite gotten washed away yet--they tried to scare the evil off by carving faces in gourds, and by dressing up in costumes meant to trick and scare the tricksters. (Or so I've gleaned from various sites . . . don't quote me on this, LOL.) It's a time when we reflect on those who have gone on before us (the actual meaning of these "saints") and so remember the dead.

There are Christians aplenty who refuse to acknowledge Halloween, and I understand why. It is indeed a night when tradition says evil comes out--but it's also a night whose traditions that are still in effect come to us because people want to fight, want to escape that evil. Like any holiday, it's about finding the sacred, the holy, and washing the darkness with light. Making it hallowed.

Whether or not your family goes trick-or-treating, I wish you all a safe day and eve, and pray that the Lord's light will illumine your path.

Faith on Fridays: I Corinthians 3

2011-10-28T07:39:00.000-04:00

We're moving on to our next chapter, and it's one that struck me hard when we read it in church bible study last year. From the NKJV:

~*~

1 Corinthians 3

Sectarianism Is Carnal

¹ And I, brethren, could not speak to you as to spiritual people but as to carnal, as to babes in Christ. ² I fed you with milk and not with solid food; for until now you were not able to receive it, and even now you are still not able; ³ for you are still carnal. For where there are envy, strife, and divisions among you, are you not carnal and behaving like mere men? ⁴ For when one says, “I am of Paul,” and another, “I am of Apollos,” are you not carnal?

Watering, Working, Warning

⁵ Who then is Paul, and who is Apollos, but ministers through whom you believed, as the Lord gave to each one? ⁶ I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the increase. ⁷ So then neither he who plants is anything, nor he who waters, but God who gives the increase. ⁸ Now he who plants and he who waters are one, and each one will receive his own reward according to his own labor.
⁹ For we are God’s fellow workers; you are God’s field, you are God’s building. ¹⁰ According to the grace of God which was given to me, as a wise master builder I have laid the foundation, and another builds on it. But let each one take heed how he builds on it. ¹¹ For no other foundation can anyone lay than that which is laid, which is Jesus Christ. ¹² Now if anyone builds on this foundation with gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, straw, ¹³ each one’s work will become clear; for the Day will declare it, because it will be revealed by fire; and the fire will test each one’s work, of what sort it is. ¹⁴ If anyone’s work which he has built on it endures, he will receive a reward. ¹⁵ If anyone’s work is burned, he will suffer loss; but he himself will be saved, yet so as through fire.
¹⁶ Do you not know that you are the temple of God and that the Spirit of God dwells in you? ¹⁷ If anyone defiles the temple of God, God will destroy him. For the temple of God is holy, which temple you are.

Avoid Worldly Wisdom

¹⁸ Let no one deceive himself. If anyone among you seems to be wise in this age, let him become a fool that he may become wise. ¹⁹ For the wisdom of this world is foolishness with God. For it is written, “He catches the wise in their own craftiness”; ²⁰ and again, “The LORD knows the thoughts of the wise, that they are futile.” ²¹ Therefore let no one boast in men. For all things are yours: ²² whether Paul or Apollos or Cephas, or the world or life or death, or things present or things to come—all are yours. ²³ And you are Christ’s, and Christ is God’s.

~*~

I love this--we are the house that God built. He is our foundation, and He gives us freedom in how to construct our building. What will you use? Straw like the first little piggie? No, that will burn up in the fire of trial (never mind the Big Bad Wolf!). Sticks? Ditto. Modern stuff like drywall and two-by-fours? Well see the Wolf might not be able to blow it away, but man's wisdom will fail in that Fire--wood will burn up.

The story of the pigs says to turn to bricks. And that would certainly withstand fire as well as wind, right? Solid. Sturdy. Strong. It would do.

But I find it telling that Paul doesn't mention brick or stone. He tells us to build our house, not with what is sufficient, but with what is perfect. Precious stones. Gold. Silver. What could possibly stand out more from straw?

The fires of trial WILL COME. Our faith, our building will go through it. It's my prayer to day for each and every one of us that we come through the fire with our faith intact, with our mettle proven, with it obvious what Holy Stuff we're made up.

May you gleam with precious metals and stones today.

Thoughtful About . . . Soft Spots

2011-10-27T06:25:00.000-04:00

My kids love this time of year. We have Octoberfest at our family's farm (not in the German tradition, mind you), the best family reunion ever, my daughter's birthday, Halloween . . . as soon as pumpkins start appearing in the stores and on the stoops, the questions begin: "When are we getting a pumpkin? Can we carve it? What kind of face should I make this year?"

Now, belonging to a farm family, I do not buy a pumpkin, certainly not from a store. I instead pick out some from the selection my grandparents bring for the kids to the above-mentioned reunion. So this year Rowyn chose a nice, round one, and Xoe one with a beautiful squiggly stem. We set them on the porch way back the week of Columbus Day.

And waited. My thought: if we carve them later, they may actually last through Halloween, and the kids are disappointed when they don't.

So on Tuesday night, we deemed it a great day to carve pumpkins. The weather was warm, we had nowhere to go . . . perfect. So the kids went out with our dry-erase markers, I with my carving knife and a few plastic bags for glop. While Xoe drew a happy face on hers and Rowyn made a few scribbles and then decided that fallen tree branch in the yard was far more interesting, I got down to business on Rowyn's pumpkin. I cut my circle in the top, pulled it up.

And went, "Ewwwwwwwwwwww!"

It was rotten inside. You know how there are supposed to be strings? Seeds? We had only mush. Orangish-brown, sloppy, stinky mush. It was seriously one of the grosses moments of my life. But my exclamation had brought the boy-o back over, and looking down into his dimpled face, those big eyes . . . yeah, I didn't have the heart to say, "Sorry, kiddo, no pumpkin for you this year."

I scooped out the foul-smelling goo. Poured it where I could. Held my breath and got rid of the rotten. I hosed it out. I bagged and double-bagged the glop and got rid of it. Then I went to work cutting away any yucky meat from inside.

At which point I noticed the soft spots. The weak spots. The spots I would have noticed from the outside had I looked for them. It hadn't occurred to me to do so, I just assumed the pumpkin was fine--but had I bothered, I would have seen the signs. I could have gotten another pumpkin beforehand. I could have spared myself some disgust, lol.

Oh-so-often I do the same thing with life. I push forward, not even considering caution. Or I ignore that soft spot I detect. It's the little things, the little warnings. Like yesterday when I handed Xoe a bowl of Spaghetti-Os and thought, "She's going to spill that." But handed it to her anyway. Thirty seconds later . . . . Or that time I looked at the bananas on the counter and thought, "I should move those so the dog doesn't get them." But the dog had never shown any interest in bananas, nor had he gotten anything off the counter. Yet when we got home that afternoon . . .

The Lord tries to show us those soft spots in life's pumpkin. He gives us the Spirit to whisper the warnings in our ear. "You had better be careful here, beloved . . . better open you eyes . . . better listen, and spare yourself some discomfort." After years and years of observing this, it's still a task to listen to that voice. To take it seriously. To trust it.

I'm in a place right now where I can see how the Lord has led me lovingly to some of the big things happening in my life. But how awesome is it that He leads us in the little things too, if we pay attention?

Thank you, Lord for having a soft spot in Your heart for humanity, so that you can show us the soft spots in us.

For where it makes us weak, it makes You strong.

Story Time with My Upcoming Baby =)

2011-10-25T07:25:00.002-04:00

(I'm leaving this up on Wednesday too, because . . . um . . . well, because it's been a really hectic week, I woke up with a headache, and I'm still enjoying seeing my cover front and center. ;-) Back to usual posts Thursday.)

I just looked down at the calendar on my computer and realized that Love Finds You in Annapolis, Maryland is only one month plus a few odd days away from release. Squeeeeeeeeeee! And so, because we have lots to be excited about with Annapolis these days, I'm going to take today to talk about it. Mostly because I've already given sneak peeks of the other books I'm reading, LOL, and haven't finished them yet to offer a more thorough review. ;-)

In 1784 peace has been declared, but war still rages in the heart of Lark Benton.

Never did Lark think she’d want to escape Emerson Fielding, the man she’s loved all her life, but then he betrays her with her cousin. She flees to Annapolis, Maryland, the country’s capital, and throws herself into a new circle of friends who force her to examine all she believes.

Emerson follows, determined to reclaim his bride. Surprised when she refuses to return with him, he realizes that in this new country he has come to call his own, duty is no longer enough. He must learn to open his heart and soul to something greater... before he loses all he should have been fighting to hold.

~*~

I've received from advance feedback from authors and now from RT Book Reviews, so I'm going to share those. Each and every one was a surprise blessing--seriously, I have been floored by the feedback. I guess I shouldn't be, because this book was all God. I don't think I ever could have finished it had He not given me the words I needed every day. Some days it was like pulling teeth, but He was faithful, and I'm excited to see what He has in store for the book. =)

From RT Book Reviews:

4 1/2 Star TOP PICK

"White writes an unpredictable love story that will keep the reader cheering for the characters. The setting of this creative and believable romance is the country's then-capital, Annapolis. This will definitely be a favorite in the Love Finds You series."

~Lindy J. Swanson reviewer

~*~

"Delightfully intoxicating, Love Finds you in Annapolis, Maryland captured me on page one and never let go. I didn't want the story to end. Roseanna White's flawless prose and captivating characters deliver in every way. Thoroughly enjoyable!"

~Tamera Alexander, bestselling author of A Lasting Impression and Within My Heart

~*~

"Beautifully written, Love Finds You in Annapolis, Maryland is a treasure trove of romance, American history, and spiritual truths. Lark is the most winsome character I've encountered in a long time and the wooing back of a broken heart is exquisitely done, brimming with surprises and tender moments, tears and hope. You won't want to leave Annapolis after this moving journey of the heart - and you don't have to, as this book is destined for your keeper shelf!"

~Laura Frantz, author of The Colonel's Lady

~*~

"What a delightful read!"

~Laurie Alice Eakes, award-winning author

~*~

Okay, blatant self-promotion over. Though I'll provide the pre-order links for Amazon and ChristianBook in case you're just sooooooo intrigued now. ;-)

Word of the Week - Kudos

2011-10-24T07:19:00.000-04:00

I've studied Ancient Greek. As in, took 2 years of the language, in addition to reading a slew of the texts. So things Ancient Greek I like--and tend to use. And assume I know pretty well. ;-)

And so, I've never hesitated to use the word "kudos" in a historical manuscript because, well, I know it's directly from the Greek. I know it's old.

But apparently the English didn't pick up on this fun word until 1799. Sigh. ;-)

Kudos, taken directly from Greek (if altered slightly because of a non-meshing of the alphabets), means "fame, renown." Though it may sound plural to an English speaker with that -s ending, it is in fact singular.

When kudos first entered our language, it was in academic circles only--among those who would have read the Greek, go figure. =) But by the 1920s, journalists had picked up on it and began to use it in articles, which entered it into the mainstream.

And to give kudos where it's due, I'd love to direct everyone to the Colonial Quill Anniversary Celebration today! We're especially celebrating the releases of two members' books this month, but also the founding of our oh-so-delightful Colonial group blog. Please stop by and join in our e-party. =)

Oh! And though I'm not sharing this for the kudos (tee hee hee), I just learned that Love Finds You in Annapolis, Maryland is RT Book Reviews' Top Pick for Inspirationals for December! So exciting!!

Faith on Fridays: I Corinthians 2

2011-10-21T06:37:00.000-04:00

Today we're moving forward into I Corinthians 2. For your convenience, I'm pasting it here, this time in American Standard Version. =)

1 Corinthians 2

¹ And I, brethren, when I came unto you, came not with excellency of speech or of wisdom, proclaiming to you the testimony of God.
² For I determined not to know anything among you, save Jesus Christ, and him crucified.
³ And I was with you in weakness, and in fear, and in much trembling.
⁴ And my speech and my preaching were not in persuasive words of wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power:
⁵ that your faith should not stand in the wisdom of men, but in the power of God.
⁶ We speak wisdom, however, among them that are fullgrown: yet a wisdom not of this world, nor of the rulers of this world, who are coming to nought:
⁷ but we speak God's wisdom in a mystery, even the wisdom that hath been hidden, which God foreordained before the worlds unto our glory:
⁸ which none of the rulers of this world hath known: for had they known it, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory:
⁹ but as it is written, Things which eye saw not, and ear heard not, And which entered not into the heart of man, Whatsoever things God prepared for them that love him.
¹⁰ But unto us God revealed them through the Spirit: for the Spirit searcheth all things, yea, the deep things of God.
¹¹ For who among men knoweth the things of a man, save the spirit of the man, which is in him? even so the things of God none knoweth, save the Spirit of God.
¹² But we received, not the spirit of the world, but the spirit which is from God; that we might know the things that were freely given to us of God.
¹³ Which things also we speak, not in words which man's wisdom teacheth, but which the Spirit teacheth; combining spiritual things with spiritual words.
¹⁴ Now the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God: for they are foolishness unto him; and he cannot know them, because they are spiritually judged.
¹⁵ But he that is spiritual judgeth all things, and he himself is judged of no man.
¹⁶ For who hath known the mind of the Lord, that he should instruct him? But we have the mind of Christ.

~*~

Today's passage continues the theme we started last week about man's wisdom v. God's wisdom, man's weakness v. God's strength. But chapter 2 names it, reminding us all that it is the Spirit who instructs.

Can you share a time the Spirit spoke His wisdom to you?

Is there another part of this chapter that struck you?

Thoughtful About . . . An Amazing Two Weeks

2011-10-20T07:27:00.000-04:00

I'm going to try to share news in a way that doesn't tell what I'm not at liberty to tell yet. =) Let's see how I do.

This much I think I can say: In the last two weeks, I've gotten two offers for book contracts. One for a three-book deal. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm not going to say what books or what publishers given that the contracts haven't been settled yet, but yeah. Wow. I have been one EXCITED woman, and have done much calling to family and best friend so I can squeal. =)

The funniest part was that when I told my daughter (who will be 6 on Sunday! Where did the time go??) about the more recent of the two, I said, "Xoe, remember this story I told you about? Well a publisher bought it!" And Xoe's eyes got really big, she jumped up and down, and said, "Where is it? Let me see!"

LOL. If only it were so quick. ;-)

But it's really neat to see how the Lord worked all this out at once, and both a relief and an excitement to know that my next writing-year is now filled. I work well with direction. =) It's also a blessing to be working with these publishers and editors who I really admire. I've already had a phone call with the second editor, chatting about all the aspects she loved, the gleam that had lit the president's eye when she described my story to him, and how excited they all are about this project. Music to an author's ears!

But alas, after the initial jigging comes reality, which in this business means WAITING. And in the case of October, it means a lot of family activities taking my time. So these next few days I'm going to be making a birthday cake with a pirate ship, cutting out the same from a giant cardboard piece for the kids to play in at the party, assembling a variety of homemade games and decorations, and trying to squeeze research and writing in there wherever I can.

Oh, and I just got a Kindle! That, at least, is helping me with my reading. Yesterday it read to me as I packed books into envelopes. =)

Well, there you have my exciting, amazing two weeks. I'll share the details as soon as I can!

Remember When . . . Cultures Collided in the Old South?

2011-10-19T07:40:00.000-04:00

Though I still feel like I've barely scratched the surface of the research I need to do for my Savannah-set work-in-progress, thanks to Saving Savannah and the mountains of research the author has done, I'm beginning to get an idea of what oh-so-interesting details I want to work in.

And of course, one of the biggies is the slave culture in lowland Georgia All I knew of it was what I'd picked up from novels and movies--I've already learned more just from the first chapter of this book, LOL.

Most of Savannah's slave population came from West Africa, and after their years here they developed a mish-mash of African and American ideas. Some meshed together well, other aspects seemed to clash. The culture of South Carolina and Georgia slaves has come to be termed Gullah-Geechee. Their language was Geechee--a combination of English and West African dialects. And they used Geechee to speak through metaphors, which I find really interesting. Gonna have to find a good way to do that among the slaves in my book!

The Gullah-Geechee culture draws a lot from its landscape, and the lowland, marshy regions in which the enslaved now served had a lot of similarities to their homeland, where waterways were sacred--they were in fact believed to host spirits and allow them to circulate among the living. So you can imagine that everyday life in an area spiderwebbed with marshlands fostered a spiritual existence for these people.

Which leads right into their faith and religion. Some stuck solely to West African beliefs, but even those who embraced Christianity had a unique type of it that integrated their traditions into it. Most believed in ghosts and spirits--they were a fact of life in their eyes, not up for debate. Christian baptism reinforced their beliefs about water being sacred. Their stories began to shift to include what they were taught and what was around them--another something I'm looking forward to integrating into my story!

The final detail I'll put in here today is their trade and economy. When a slave had finished his allotted labor for the day (if he/she could finish it, which wasn't always possible), they were permitted to work for their family. Most slave families ended up with chickens and gardens, with hogs and goods that they traded first among themselves and then were allowed to take in the cities. Some--few--ended up with a little nest egg. Mostly, though, these resources were what fed and clothed them--and the masters took it as an excuse not to do so themselves.

So there we have the first glimpse of what will be a secondary, underlying setting for my book. My little brain's just a-turning, trying to figure out how to smoothly put a storyline in that will showcase this unique culture that would have been pulsing alongside the world of hoop skirts and balls!

Story Time . . . Yahshua's Bridge Is Available and Sneaking Some Peeks

2011-10-18T07:32:00.000-04:00

Back in August I gave my review of Yahshua's Bridge by Sandi Rog, an epic tale set in first century Rome. I promised to let everyone know when it was available for pre-order, and it now is! So rush over to DeWard Publishing's site now and order your copy, especially if you enjoyed The Master's Wall. As a reminder of why you want to . . .

"Stupefying, stunning, and stirring--Yahshua's Bridge is a tale that takes the reader from the darkest valley to the highest pinnacle of hope. For anyone yearning to go deeper, this story of hearts broken and promises kept will take you there, and leave you astounded by the beauty of our Savior."

I don't give words like "stupefying, stunning and stirring" lightly. It takes real skill as a writer and superb story to earn those words from me--and Sandi deserves them all. This was a story unafraid to show us the ugliness of the world, the injustices that can destroy our lives, the cruelties that might plague us. All these are written with what I can only term bravery. It would have been so much easier to tell a story with simpler conflict and a happily-ever-after for everyone involved--but as Sandi said to me, that would have been unfair to all the early Christians and what they went through for their faith. Read My Full Review

Of course, I'm reading some new things now. =) They're not available yet, but . . . ;-)

The first one is Before the Scarlet Dawn by Rita Gerlach. This is a story of love and faithfulness set against the backdrop of the Revolutionary War. What I love most is that the characters are both British, but have come to America for a new life, unfettered by family's expectations. While the hero already fully believes in the American cause and knows from the get-go he'll fight for it, our heroine doesn't so fully understand--all Eliza knows is that she loves Hayward. Will that be enough to sustain them?

Next up is Love's Sacred Song, the next biblical fiction from fabulous author Mesu Andrews. I just got this one for endorsement purposes the other day, and I'm heading out this morning to buy a Kindle so I can read the PDF with ease. =) Based on Song of Solomon, Love's Sacred Song is sure to delve deep into a story of love and passion and ancient politics that I cannot wait to discover!

Word of the Week - Neighborhood

2011-10-17T06:00:00.000-04:00

Yesterday in the car, I looked out at the bright blue sky and had a Mr. Roger's moment--I started singing "It's a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood" and my daughter asked, "Why's is called a neighborhood? Does it have anything to do with the hood of a coat?"

I'd never paused to ponder this -hood suffix, but naturally her question made me curious, so I came home and looked it up. =)

Prior to the 14th century, instead of hood we had hade, which was a free-standing word that meant "person, individual, character, individuality; condition, state, nature; sex, race, family, tribe." Wow, right? Quite a list. Round about the 1300s hade made the change to hood and narrowed in meaning to "condition, position," though its literal meaning has ties to brightness and quality.

So, in fact, it has absolutely nothing to do with the now-freestanding hood of a coat, which is from an entirely different root word that means, simply, "covering." Which is a shame, because Xoe and I had come up with a nice little reason for the word to be used in such totally different ways. ;-)

Faith on Fridays: I Corinthians 1

2011-10-14T07:51:00.000-04:00

Welcome to the first week of the online Bible study! Through the wonders of my random flipping through my beloved Precious Moments Bible (no laughing!), I've decided to start on I Corinthians. Though y'all are welcome to suggest other books after we're through with this one.

And through the wonders of www.BibleGateway.com, I'm going to paste the chapter here for your ease. ;-) This is from the NKJV, though you can access pretty much any other version at the link above.

I Corinthians 1

Greeting

¹ Paul, called to be an apostle of Jesus Christ through the will of God, and Sosthenes our brother,

² To the church of God which is at Corinth, to those who are sanctified in Christ Jesus, called to be saints, with all who in every place call on the name of Jesus Christ our Lord, both theirs and ours:

³ Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

Spiritual Gifts at Corinth

⁴ I thank my God always concerning you for the grace of God which was given to you by Christ Jesus, ⁵ that you were enriched in everything by Him in all utterance and all knowledge, ⁶ even as the testimony of Christ was confirmed in you, ⁷ so that you come short in no gift, eagerly waiting for the revelation of our Lord Jesus Christ, ⁸ who will also confirm you to the end, that you may be blameless in the day of our Lord Jesus Christ. ⁹ God is faithful, by whom you were called into the fellowship of His Son, Jesus Christ our Lord.

Sectarianism Is Sin

¹⁰ Now I plead with you, brethren, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that you all speak the same thing, and that there be no divisions among you, but that you be perfectly joined together in the same mind and in the same judgment. ¹¹ For it has been declared to me concerning you, my brethren, by those of Chloe’s household, that there are contentions among you. ¹² Now I say this, that each of you says, “I am of Paul,” or “I am of Apollos,” or “I am of Cephas,” or “I am of Christ.” ¹³ Is Christ divided? Was Paul crucified for you? Or were you baptized in the name of Paul?
¹⁴ I thank God that I baptized none of you except Crispus and Gaius, ¹⁵ lest anyone should say that I had baptized in my own name. ¹⁶ Yes, I also baptized the household of Stephanas. Besides, I do not know whether I baptized any other. ¹⁷ For Christ did not send me to baptize, but to preach the gospel, not with wisdom of words, lest the cross of Christ should be made of no effect.

Christ the Power and Wisdom of God

¹⁸ For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. ¹⁹ For it is written:

      “ I will destroy the wisdom of the wise,
      And bring to nothing the understanding of the prudent.”^[a]

²⁰ Where is the wise? Where is the scribe? Where is the disputer of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of this world? ²¹ For since, in the wisdom of God, the world through wisdom did not know God, it pleased God through the foolishness of the message preached to save those who believe. ²² For Jews request a sign, and Greeks seek after wisdom; ²³ but we preach Christ crucified, to the Jews a stumbling block and to the Greeks^[b] foolishness, ²⁴ but to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. ²⁵ Because the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men.

Glory Only in the Lord

²⁶ For you see your calling, brethren, that not many wise according to the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble, are called. ²⁷ But God has chosen the foolish things of the world to put to shame the wise, and God has chosen the weak things of the world to put to shame the things which are mighty; ²⁸ and the base things of the world and the things which are despised God has chosen, and the things which are not, to bring to nothing the things that are, ²⁹ that no flesh should glory in His presence. ³⁰ But of Him you are in Christ Jesus, who became for us wisdom from God—and righteousness and sanctification and redemption— ³¹ that, as it is written, “He who glories, let him glory in the LORD.”^[c]

Footnotes:

1 Corinthians 1:19 Isaiah 29:14
1 Corinthians 1:23 NU-Text reads Gentiles.
1 Corinthians 1:31 Jeremiah 9:24

~*~

So which part of the chapter strikes you the most forcibly, and why? Think about it for a minute and respond below, or reply to another comment. If we need a jumpstart, let's consider this question:

Have you ever been like the Jews, seeking a sign? Or like the Greeks, chasing after wisdom?

Thoughtful About . . . Abandon

2011-10-13T08:18:00.000-04:00

We love to torture our kids. And by torture I mean tickle them, "eat" them up, chase them around, pretend our hand is a monster . . . you know. Torture. The sweet kind. I imagine that's a fairly universal love of parents the world over, and it's no great secret why. We do it because we love to hear that belly laugh, hear those delighted shrieks of "No, no! Hey, why'd you stop? Do it again, do it again!" We love to see those huge smiles on their faces.

We love their abandon.

My hubby will tickle me, too, but we often get a good laugh out of how he does the same "gobble" to me he does with the kids, and I just look at him. And usually say, "Um . . . sorry. I'm not as much fun as the kids, am I?" Which yeah, makes us chuckle. But it's not a belly laugh. Those same simple things don't result in such instant joy once we grow up.

Man . . . I sure wish they did!

The abandon of a small child has its ups and downs. It results in those moments of unbridled bliss, and it results in equally unbridled fits. Laughter and tears in equal measures, joy and frustration, love and rage. I'm sometimes amazed at how my kids can go from total contentment in their game with each other to hitting each other and screaming at the top of their lungs, then straight back to fun.

It's something we learn to control as we grow up, something we teach those kids to do. Self control is important, especially when it comes to those negatives. And those who never learn it . . . end up with reality shows on TV??? ;-) Seriously, that control is a must, yes.

But what are some of your best moments from adulthood? Are they when you're sitting there, perfectly controlled? Are they when you don't react to something? No--our favorite moments are the ones where we regain a moment of childhood abandon and embrace the joy of life. When we scream our heads off on a roller coaster. When we laugh until we cry. When we let it all go and just live.

Sometimes it's hard to do that, especially in this stage of my life where I have to keep the Mommy turned on. Oh, I can laugh with my kids. But I'm also trying to make sure knees don't collide with heads as we wrestle, that things tossed up in joy come down in one piece. I'm trying to protect and nurture and so can't give my full attention to the game. I have to do this. I love to do this.

But sometimes I just wish I could let loose a belly laugh and not care.

And that goes for my prayer life too. That should be the one place I can let go completely, but even there I'm usually trying to protect--myself. I find myself praying, "Lord, you know I hope . . . you know I fear . . . I'm trying not to hope too much because then I fear I'll be disappointed . . . I'm trying not to expect disappointment though because that would be faithless . . . I don't want to assume your will . . . I don't want to miss your will . . ."

But there I need to let go of the control. With the Lord, I need to be unafraid of the extremes. I need to show him the highs and the lows. I need to be unafraid of letting that kid inside me out before my Father.

I need to embrace the abandon.

~*~

On a different note, I making another change to my Friday posts and doing a Faith on Fridays theme instead of giveaways, etc. I'll have occasional faith-themed guest posts, but mostly I'd like to begin an online weekly Bible study. I'll post the chapter of the week and my thoughts on it, and hopefully we'll get a discussion going on it.

So tomorrow we'll begin with I Corinthians 1. Hope y'all will join in!

Remember When . . . War Broke Out Between the States?

2011-10-12T06:00:00.005-04:00

I had a moment about a month ago when I was working up a new proposal idea, this one set in Civil War era Georgia. Yes, during that moment I realized my Civil War history was rather rusty. Ahem. But it was the "compared to" that gave me pause. Because you see, my Civil War history is rusty compared to . . .

* The Greco-Persian War

* The uprisings in Roman Jerusalem

*The Revolutionary War (and its aftermath)

*The War of 1812 (okay, this earns a sort-of)

* Certain key aspects of the Napoleonic Wars

And that's where my bafflement came from. How in the world did I become a writer of war novels??? I mean, seriously. I write romance. Love stories, if they're not typical romance. My stories always come to me as boy meets girl, they're driven by the characters.

Yet here I am again . . . plotting out a book set during a war. I shake my head at myself. And laugh. And get down to history. =)

I started with the things most pertinent to this story--the Confederate Raider ships and the Union blockade on the Southern ports, and finally the Battle of Port Pulaski. Really, this is barely a slice of Civil War history. In a way, that's going to make the research easier. But I still have to get the broader scope in my research so I know the hows and whys and whats and wheres that always enrich a story.

I've done some basic internet research, and now I'm eagerly awaiting the arrival of a book through the wonders of ILL called Saving Savannah: The City and the Civil War, by Jacqueline Jones. I'm really looking forward to devouring this book, which promises a fresh look at race relations, the impact of the war, and a look at everyday life in Savannah during the war. Exactly what I need to know. =)

So this not-a-war-writer who somehow keeps coming up with stories set against a backdrop of war is diving into yet another one. With the happy thought that some of my research will be able to double for another, later book I have planned too. You know, the one in the series that covers three different (you guessed it) wars.

Sigh. LOL.

Story Time . . . My Father's Dragon

2011-10-11T06:56:00.001-04:00

The last two weeks in home school, I've been reading My Father's Dragon to my daughter. This is part of our curriculum, but it was so delightful that I figure I'll talk about it here, just in case anyone wants to take note. ;-)

One of the most interesting features of this book to me as a writer is the fact that the narrator is apparently the child of the main character--who is himself a child in the story. I found this so neat. We know the name of the character--Elmer Elevator--but more often than not the story is told like this: "So my father set sail for the Isle of Tangerina."

Now, there are a few reasons why this book was a hit in my house. First of all, though it's a chapter book, it has fun illustrations throughout the book, which my daughter took especial delight in. Second, it's a story of imagination and even critical thinking. As Elmer Elevator sets off on an adventure to find and rescue a baby dragon who's being abused by the creatures of Wild Island, he has to solve problems every step of the way--and most of those problems are the wild animals on the island who have enslaved the dragon and who are fiercely protective of their island against "the invasion"--namely, Elmer.

Luckily, the old tomcat who told him of the dragon also gave him advice on exactly what to pack in his knapsack. Those items save the day at each step, and it was tons of fun to figure out how he would use things like 17 lollipops, a toothbrush and toothpaste, and chewing gum to get himself out of impending doom.

Fanciful enough to engage the kiddos and clever enough to grab the parents, this is a book I highly recommend for you to get and share with your kids. And if yours are anything like mine, you'll end up with some adorable pictures of this dragon that spring from your little one's imagination throughout the story, before we get to see the illustrator's interpretation at the very end.

A delight for the whole family, it's easy to see why this won the Newbury Honor when it was written!

Word of the Week - Fiancee

2011-10-10T07:57:00.000-04:00

It's always baffling when I think to look up a word that I take for granted and realize that it's a relatively new addition to the English language. I had this experience with the words fiancee/fiance a couple years ago, when I first began writing Love Finds You in Annapolis, Maryland. My characters are engaged at the beginning. The year is 1783.

But she isn't his fiancee. Nope, that word didn't come into use until 1853. And interestingly, the male version "fiance" didn't follow until 1864. An eleven year gap between calling the woman a fiancee and the man a fiance! Interesting, isn't it?

This seems like an incredibly late addition to me . . . at least when I consider how many stories I have that take place prior to 1864. ;-) It took me a good long while to figure out how to get around that one in a way that sounds natural.

But no fear--we still have options. "Intended" and "betrothed" are legit. So in Annapolis, for instance, Lark fights with her intended in the first chapter. And later in the book Emerson chases after his betrothed. (Not that those are gender specific, mind you.)

Yet another example of how learning something was at first a pain . . . but you know, it actually helped me create the voice I needed for the time period, so I'm glad to I thought to look it up. =) It's the little things that make a voice. ;-)

My Friend Friday - "I'll Win It for You" Guest Post (and giveaway)

2011-10-07T06:49:00.000-04:00

Today I have another guest post for you, this time from Staci Stallings. I think you'll really love the message she highlights in this--I know it hit home for me this morning!

As with last week, if you leave an encouraging comment for Staci, you'll be entered into this month's giveaway. More details at the end. But first, the main event!

~*~

I’ll Win It For You

The game was tight. Archrivals had faced off for three and a half periods in a seesaw battle that was going down to the wire. As the clock ticked down, the two sides traded the lead back and forth. Neither could be assured of victory because with the game so close, anything could happen.

From the sideline, the coach watched his team getting more and more apprehensive as the seconds ticked away. They were missing shots they never missed. They were missing opportunities they didn’t miss. Even their body language said, “This is bad. We might lose this one.”

With less than a minute left, the coach called a time out. Now he knew that every girl on that court had been over the plays a million times. They didn’t need elaborate help to set up a play for a last second win. They needed to calm down and play the way they knew how to play. So when they bent into that huddle, the coach told them something more than a little unconventional. “Go out there. Play the game. Have fun. Do your best, and I’ll win it for you.”

No pressure instructions. No you have to win this or we lose to our rivals. No anxiety-inducing strategy. Simply, “Go play, and I’ll win it for you.”

To my way of thinking, that was an audacious statement because in reality, it wouldn’t be the coach taking the shot that would win or lose the game. He would be standing on the sideline with no direct control whatsoever. However, this coach knew something about the training these girls had been through, and he knew without a doubt they could do it. The problem was they didn’t know they could do it, and so, he let them rely not on themselves for the win but on him.

The amazing thing to me when I really started thinking about this statement is that what that coach told his team is exactly what Jesus tells each one of us: “Go out there. Play the game. Have fun. Do your best, and I’ll win it for you.”

We think it’s all on us—that we have to get everything right, do everything perfectly, or our “win” will never materialize. In fact, we get sucked into this mentality that Heaven may be just out of our reach no matter what we do. However, I think the reality is that Jesus is the coach standing on the sideline having full faith that we can do everything He’s trained us to do. We can love just like He’s shown us. We can give; we can live—not because we can do it on our own but because He’s right there, and He has faith that we have been given everything we need to win through Him.

I’m sure you know the end of the story. When the buzzer sounded, the team who had just gone out, had fun, and done their best was victorious.

One day the final buzzer of your life will sound, and the question at that moment will be this: Did you allow Jesus to be your coach? Did have faith that He would win the game for you—or are you still trying to win it yourself?; It’s a question worth contemplating. (Copyright, Staci Stallings 2003)

~*~

A stay-at-home mom with a husband, three kids and a writing addiction on the side, Staci Stallings has numerous titles for readers to choose from. (Pick up the Price of Silence now for only $0.99! ) Not content to stay in one genre and write it to death, Staci’s stories run the gamut from young adult to adult, from motivational and inspirational to full-out Christian and back again. Every title is a new adventure! That’s what keeps Staci writing and you reading. Although she lives in Amarillo, Texas and her main career right now is her family, Staci touches the lives of people across the globe every week with her various Internet endeavors including:

Books In Print, Kindle, & FREE on Spirit Light Works:
http://stacistallings.wordpress.com/

Spirit Light Books--The Blog: http://spiritlightbooks.wordpress.com/

And… Staci’s website http://www.stacistallings.com Come on over for a visit…

You’ll feel better for the experience!

Connect with her on Twitter: @StaciStallings

~*~

This month's giveaway is for the WhiteFire lineup! You can enter for a chance to win by leaving a comment below for Staci. For an extra entry, follow Staci's blog (and let me know in a separate comment that you do). You can also enter here and here.

Thoughtful About . . . New Beginnings

2011-10-06T06:32:00.000-04:00

Round about five and a half years ago, my family started a church. Why? Because we felt the conviction to worship on the Sabbath, and there were no sabbath-keeping churches around whose doctrines we believed in. So we became a branch church of a Seventh Day Baptist church in Pennsylvania and went about establishing ourselves.

These past years, we've rented two different buildings, trusting the Lord to provide one of our own in His time. And the time has come. This last week we stepped into our new old church for the first time as owners and knew beyond doubt we were home.

This might be hard to understand if you've never attended a small church bound by the restrictions of the place you're renting, but wow. It's so amazing to realize we can now do whatever the Lord asks of us, without having to ask the building's owners for permission! Book clubs and movie nights, dinners and clothing drives. All sorts of things we've been wanting to start but couldn't.

On Sunday I went over and scrubbed the hardwood in the sanctuary. I got sweaty, sore, and tired, but it was a labor of love. An offering to the Lord. An investment in this home He's given us. We as a congregation have a lot of hard work ahead of us to make this old country church vibrant again, but it's work we're looking forward to.

And I love pausing a moment to look at when things happen. In the life of the church, it came exactly when we needed it to, when we had worked through some issues and were ready to surrender entirely to Him. And personally, it came just as I am (momentarily) between projects. One book is finished, at committee, and ready to be decided on in the next week (pray, please!!). The one due out in December has undergone its final edits, so I have nothing more to do on it right now. And my next project is still awaiting approval from my editor, so there's no point in diving in if she's going to ask for major changes to the idea. I've got a ton of editing to do for WhiteFire, but that's all.

So here I am . . . ready and able to give of my time.

It's a good time, a hopeful time. A time when potential and possibilities are all shimmering on the horizon. No disappointments or frustrations yet. No failures or setbacks.

In a lot of ways, it's exactly like where I am with Love Finds You in Annapolis, Maryland. It's a pretty blissful time, these months leading up to release, when there are no bad sales numbers to haunt you or negative reviews to upset you. All potential. All hope.

I'm optimistic enough to blindly say that potential will lead to a realization of blessing. I'm realistic enough to know that's no guarantee. And I'm experienced enough to know that no matter what comes in a month or a year, this time is meant to be savored for exactly what it is--a new beginning, unconstrained by what may come.

I'm going to enjoy it.

Remember When . . . The British Weren't Popular?

2011-10-05T07:42:00.000-04:00

The year is 1814. War has been going on for a couple years already, and it's a war that some think is overdue . . . and some think shouldn't have happened. Depending on which side you were on, of course. ;-)

Some British never really accepted America's independence. Some Americans couldn't believe that their mother-country would really impress their sailors or renew hostilities.

Both were in for a surprise when the War of 1812 broke out, and independence had to fought for all over again.

Most of you probably know I've been writing a story set during the Revolution. Well, that one's finished, and the next in the series is about the son of the hero and heroine from book 1, this one set during the War of 1812. I knew from the moment I decided on a general plot what my hero was going to be like. Thad is an adventurous American, a bit reckless, totally devoted to his cause, and fearless to the point of stupidity sometimes.

But it took me some effort to figure out my heroine, and I'm still trying to wrap my brain around her. Gwyneth I originally thought would be Canadian, but the more I considered it, the more I decided it would be more fun to make her from London. Because we all know what London of the era was like, right? Regency. Ahhhhh. Blissful. Courtly manners, marriage marts, drawing room drama. A young lady of some means would be totally concerned with her Season, especially if it were her debut. With her suitors, her friends, her fashion. So what would happen if she found herself shipped off to America? During a war with the uncivilized brutes, no less?

Well, there we have some attitude. But let's up the stakes. What would poor, displaced Gwyneth be like if moments before she set sail, she witnessed the murder of the person dearest to her?

Yes, I'm a cruel author, what can I say. ;-) One who's having a lot of fun imagining what my starts-as-a-typical-Regency-gentlewoman heroine might become and do under such circumstances. Will she arrive on American soil broken? Paranoid? Unwilling to trust the people she had been told to go to? Will she be defiant? Proud? Superior? Meek?

Yeah, I still haven't figured her out completely, but I'm thinking she'll be an interesting amalgamation of those things. Broken and defiant. Proud and meek. We'll see how she turns out once I begin writing. =) But for now, I'm really enjoying the idea of bringing my love of British-set 19th century stories over onto American soil with these two characters.

Story Time . . . Gone with the Wind

2011-10-04T08:36:00.000-04:00

So as I close the book on one historical era (with the hopes of revisiting it sometime soon!), I open the pages on another. And in so doing, open the pages of Margaret Mitchell's Pulitzer-winning classic Gone with the Wind. Yes, this is research. ;-)

But cracking open this book takes me back to childhood. Which might seem strange to some, but bear with me. My family (father excluded, that is) LOVED GwtW. We'd watch the movie whenever we had snow days, which meant several times a year. Whenever we drove south for vacation, we'd go past a huge old house that we dubbed "Tara" in honor of the O'Hara plantation. Phrases like, "But I don't know nothing 'bout birthin' no babies!" were common vernacular between me, my sister, and my mom. And I believe we all dreamed about that dress made out of curtains . . .

Up until my teen years, I'd only ever watched the movie, of course. But when I was in high school, I read the book. I believe I skimmed all the many paragraphs of pure history, LOL, but oh! The story of Scarlett and Rhett, even fuller and more complete in the book than in that ridiculously long movie! Be still my heart. =)

So as I prepare to dive into all things Civil War and Deep South, I thought I'd ask y'all for your favorite GwtW moments, memories, or (if this is possible) what you might prefer over GwtW from a similar era. When you settle in for a Civil War story, what do you reach for? Fiction, non-fiction?

I currently have on my desk two books and two movies awaiting me--the obligatory GwtW, both book and mvie, and then The Blue & the Gray (DVD) and The Killer Angels (book). I figure I'll hit up the library for more soon, so recommendations are welcome!

Word of the Week - Autumn

2011-10-03T06:56:00.001-04:00

It's that time of year again. The leaves are turning colors, the weather is turning cooler, and the pumpkin vines are taking over my yard. Okay it's the first year we've planted pumpkins, so this is a first--and a lesson to us on where NOT to plant them next year! LOL.

So it seems like a fine time to talk about the roots of the words we associate with the season. =)

For a good while, British folk referred to this time of year solely as "harvest." It wasn't until the 16th century that the word "autumn" entered the vernacular. Taken from Old French and, in turn, Latin, there are also suggestions that it shares a root with August, and that the aug- implies severity.

Over the centuries, most "autumn" words have come to carry a meaning of "end, end of summer" or "harvest." And unlike all the other seasons, we not only have several words for it, we also have several different start/stop dates in English speaking countries. In Britain, for example, autumn begins in August, while in America it's September.

And of course, from "autumn" we get one of my all-time favorite words: autumnal (pronounced aw-TUHM-nl), which my best friend still swears I made up. ;-) As you can assume, it means "things pertaining to autumn."

And then, of course, we have "fall." Now used only in the U.S. as a synonym for the season, "fall" is short for "fall of the leaf," and dates from the 1540s. So it's nearly as old as "autumn," but has for some reason fallen out of use (ha . . . ha . . . ha . . .) in other English-speaking parts of the word.

So here's wishing everyone a beautiful, colorful fall filled with all the delightful, autumnal things that make you smile. =)

(For reference, the picture is my kids and nieces at our family farm's Octoberfest, from last year. From left to right you see Isabelle (niece), Paisley (niece), Xoe (my oldest), and Rowyn (son in need of a haircut last year, LOL).)

My Friend Jennifer - Faith Shining in the Dark

2011-09-30T06:46:00.000-04:00

Today let's give a big welcome to Jennifer Slattery, who is here with a guest post on faith. Jennifer is a lovely woman who has followed the Lord into various avenues for her writing, and I have great admiration for all she's doing. I hope you are blessed today by her words. Please see the end of the post for information on this month's giveaway.

And now, here's Jennifer!

Shining In the Dark

By Jennifer Slattery

It is easy to live in self-protection mode. It is comfortable to surround ourselves with Christians, seated in a nice, safe, predictable church pew. But as I read the Bible, I never see God calling Christians into seclusion. Consider Joseph in an Egyptian prison. Egypt was a pagan land. How many prisoners, enslaved by darkness, watched Joseph pray day after day? And what about Paul? One of our favorite stories is of Paul singing in prison. How brightly did his light shine surrounded by inmates?

When our daughter was young we lived in Southern California. Life in California is unique in many ways. It is not uncommon for a child to go through life without ever touching snow. You can live on top of your neighbors and not know them. You’ll spend hours in your car, not moving (rush-hour traffic). You’ll drive forty-five minutes to find the hiking trails cut in center of the city. You’ll sit in your back yard, which will likely be covered in cement or gravel, and stare into the night sky in search of those ultra-bright stars that somehow manage to outshine the city lights.

One evening, we wanted her to see the night sky without the “dimming” city lights, so we drove to the desert. We lived on the edge of the Mojave, so it didn’t take long, but once we got there, the view was spectacular! The stars that appeared so faint at home blazed, and numerous stars that were previously out-glimmered by streetlights, dotted the sky.

This image often comes to mind when I pray for guidance. As new opportunities come my way, my first reaction is always self-protection—to remain tucked in my nice church pew, surrounded by brightly shining Christians, waiting…just waiting for that occasional non-Christian to trickle in. And yet, where does our light shine the brightest? In the dark. God’s love is extravagant, initiating, self-sacrificing. God’s love penetrated the darkness.

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:1-5).

The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness cannot, does not, will not overcome it. So, carry your candle and run to the darkness.

~*~

Jennifer Slattery is lives in the midwest with her husband of fifteen years and their thirteen year old daughter. She prefers peanut butter sandwiches to juicy burgers, likes eating ice-cream for dinner, and devours “issue” novels with authentic characters. She writes for Christ to the World Ministries, The Christian Pulse, and Samie Sisters and is the marketing manager of the literary website, Clash of the Titles. You can find out more about her and her writing at http://jenniferslatterylivesoutloud.com

~*~

Please leave a comment for Jennifer in order to be entered in this month's giveaway for the 2011 WhiteFire lineup. You can also enter by leaving a comment here.

Thoughtful About . . . Compliments

2011-09-29T07:44:00.000-04:00

Back when I worked in the Admissions Office of my college, I made friends with one of the (non-student) staff who manned the office. Patricia was a total sweetheart, and we had many a laugh together over the four years I worked there. At 6'1" tall, Patricia towered over me. She was more than a decade older, with a teenage son. But we had a great relationship.

One of the things that struck me early on about Patricia was that she offered compliments so freely, and so often. Every day when I walked in, she would have something sweet to say. "Oh, your hair looks good like that." or "I love your shoes."

Is there any better way to make friends with someone? LOL.

It didn't take me long to figure that secret out, so I would start finding ways to compliment as well. Sometimes in creative ways, sometimes in those same simple observations. But you know what? Those who give them freely don't often get them as regularly, and Patricia was often surprised, her thanks startled and genuine. I began saying in response to baffled thanks, "Hey, compliments are easy."

It became a bit of a joke between us, this genuine complimenting and then laughing response.

At the ACFW conference last week, I was thinking a lot about Patricia. Not that she was a writer or anything (grins), but because those lessons she taught me about complimenting came back to visit. In a situation where one meets a lot of new people, or people one usually only sees online, it's easy to get overwhelmed by it all, or to feel a little lost in the crowd. But it takes so little to make someone feel comfortable.

"Wow, that's a great skirt."

"You have the most perfect hair."

"Well aren't you adorable!"

Easy things to say. Simple to come up with. But not so simple to the person hearing them. To the recipient, a compliment can settle, can lift up, can encourage, can edify.

I received a few at ACFW that made me smile. And I tried to give some that would do the same for others. Because compliments are easy. They don't cost me anything, they don't take any effort. It's no sacrifice at all to say something nice to someone. So why don't I do it all the time?

Because the one thing compliments DO require of us is to look away from ourselves long enough to notice someone else.

I make a concerted effort to do this, but it took a bit of training. I couldn't tell you how often I thought nice things but didn't say them before I learned this lesson from Patricia. Why did I hold my tongue? Couldn't tell ya. Probably because it was easier not to engage someone at all.

But that's not who I want to be. I want to be someone who can make you smile, make you laugh. I want to be someone who brightens your day, just as so many of you brighten mine. We can all be a little self-focused now and then, and to a point there's nothing wrong with that. But I really, really hope I never forget this lesson. That every time someone says something nice to me, it serves as a reminder for me to give even more.

So a big THANK YOU! to all of you who lift me up day after day with your comments and emails, to those who made me grin at the conference with the nice things you said about me. And while I can't exactly offer individual encouragement to y'all here and now since I have no idea who is reading this (ha ha), I can tell you this: your words make a difference. You're appreciated and loved. You make my life richer.

Now, accepting compliments graciously, humbly, but without denying them and thereby calling the giver a liar . . . that's a whole other post. ;-)

A "Remember When" Informal Poll

2011-09-28T07:35:00.001-04:00

Having just returned from the ACFW conference in St. Louis, and having spent the last few days chatting with my fellow historical writers about all we gleaned and learned while there, I thought it would be fun to take today to talk about historicals. Specifically, which ones are your favorites?

Do you tend to gravitate toward a particular era? A particular setting? What draws you to it?

Just a few choices to get you started. Do you like:

* Biblical / Ancient times

*Medieval

*Elizabethan / Tudor England

*Colonial / Revolutionary America

*Regency England

*Early Federal America (post-Revolution through War of 1812-ish)

*Civil War

*Reconstruction

*Victorian England

*European (which country, time period do you love?)

*Western

*Turn of the Century

*World War I

*Twenties - Depression

*World War II

Any of these jump out at you as your all-time favorite? Does your favorite not fit? (Gotta say, one of my favorites is Christine Lindsay's Shadowed in Silk, which is India of 1919, so it's kinda between WWI and Twenties with a totally unique setting. Feel free to expand my list!)

Let's getting chatting about our favorites!!

Story Time . . . THE COLONEL'S LADY by Laura Frantz

2011-09-27T07:49:00.000-04:00

Every so often, I find one of those books that just takes my breath away as I'm reading. Every so often, I find one whose characters stay close to my side even when I'm not reading it, going through my days hovering in the corner of my mind. Every so often I find a book where the not-kisses are intense as the kisses, where the emotion is so high I feel taut as a bow while reading, where I savor each page.

The Colonel's Lady by Laura Frantz is one of those books. I've never done a rating system, but I'm tempted to come up with one for this just so I can give it maximum stars.

Roxanna Rowan has lost everything she knew in Virginia. Her mother has died, her betrothed has broken their engagement. The only promise left in her life is her beloved father, who is serving as a scrivener to the fearsome Colonel Cassius McLinn on the frontier in Ketucke. Not knowing what else to do, Roxanna packs up everything she owns and heads into the unknown--only to arrive at Fort Endeavor and discover her father is dead. Trapped at the outpost, surrounded by natives that are working for the British, Roxanna has little choice but to stay in this terrible place, where her father's memory haunts her home and the towering Irish commander haunts her mind . . . and soon her heart.

Cassius McLinn has been given charge of the western frontier, but it is punishment rather than honor. He ought to be in the east, serving General Washington. Fighting the British outright, just as he had given up his inheritance in Ireland to do. But he is instead in this godforsaken wilderness, with too few supplies, too few men, and now a passel of women to care for--including the too-alluring, too-generous daughter of the man he accidentally shot in the shadowy twilight on their last campaign. He cannot explain why Roxie Rowan burrows so quickly into his heart. What he does know is that when she discovers her father's death came at his hands, she will hate him. His Irish premonition tells him he will die out here, perhaps even at the hands of the spy Roxie's father had discovered before his death . . . but is there a chance he will know happiness before he does?

The Colonel's Lady is . . . just WOW. It's heart-wrenching. It's beyond beautiful. It's complicated and engaging and memorable. It's absolutely everything a book needs to be, and I can honestly think of nothing I would change about it. As I read it, I could feel the danger lurking in the forests just beyond the fort's walls. I could feel the tension stretching the characters to their breaking points. I could sense the resignation of Cass, the desperation of Roxanna. Which made the love story all the more poignant.

This book can boast the most intense not-a-kiss scene I think I've ever read. The actual kissing scene is awesome too, but I have to note the first because it's far harder to find. ;-) Buy boy howdy! The book would be worth reading for that alone.

I've given up wasting time on books I'm not enjoying, so pretty much anything I review on here is going to be one I like and fully approve. But I have to say that The Colonel's Lady holds a spot on my favorites list. It is truly a masterful combination of wordsmithing and storytelling, of real, torn characters and a high-stakes plot.

Go get your hands on this book. Now. Seriously. GO. You'll thank me for it. =)

Word of the Week - Fiddle (dedee, faddle, and sticks)

2011-09-26T07:18:00.000-04:00

Everyone knows what a fiddle is, right? Or what it means to fiddle. It's a violin. More, it's a colloquial use (that usually denotes the rural or country or south) at this point. Why? The word has been used since the late 14th century, it's perfectly legitimate. Why the connotation? (Let's keep in mind that I LOVE what has become termed "fiddling." I like the more formal violin too, but the fiddle is so much fun!)

Interestingly, it's been relegated to such use largely because of the other words containing "fiddle" that mean "nonsense." Funny, huh? We've got fiddle-faddle used since 1610 for "nonsense." Fiddlesticks has meant the same since 1620. Fiddlededee combines the nonsensical with contempt, and has since 1784. From what I can tell, there's no particular reason why "fiddle" got used in all these words, but it's certainly had an effect on the root word. Fiddle now has associations with nonsense.

Maybe that's why I like it so well. ;-)

Forgive me if this post isn't quite coherent--we spent 12 hours in the car yesterday coming home from St. Louis. The conference was great, fun, etc. Appointments went well, classes were great, but the absolute best part was getting to talk to all my friends face to face!

I'm guessing it may take a few days to recover though, LOL.

Headed for ACFW!

2011-09-21T06:00:00.001-04:00

It's conference time!! I'm currently en route to St. Louis for the ACFW conference (or there, depending on when you see this), so not blogging. Nope, instead I'm looking forward to a few days of immersion into the industry I love. Some awesome classes, the chance to chat with some professionals, and best of all, the fellowship of my like-minded colleagues. Yay!!

I'll be back to my normal schedule next week. Hope everyone has a great one--and if you'll be in St. Louis, I hope you see you there!

Story Time . . . Classics

2011-09-20T06:00:00.000-04:00

I was chatting with my 14-year-old niece over the weekend about classics. She's reading Great Expectations in class right now, and while she finds some parts of it good, overall she's come to the conclusion that it's boring. She said, "Modern books are just better. By which I mean books written recently, not necessarily set recently."

In a lot of ways, I think she's right. Fiction writing has evolved a lot over the centuries. We have a craft, and we study on ways to improve it, to fully engage our readers. And the readers have changed! A TV generation isn't prepared to wade through all those descriptive paragraphs. Or backstory. Or info dumps. Overall, I think this is an improvement, certainly for the world we're writing for.

But of course, I had to tell her that not all classics are as difficult as Dickens. =) Now, I've read some Dickens I like. But I must confess--I sat down one summer during college with my Complete Works and said, "I'm going to read Dickens this summer!"

I got about three chapters in and went, "I'm not going to read Dickens this summer!" LOL.

But I could read Pride and Prejudice over and over again. The wit is just amazing. And as I told my niece, Jane Eyre is shockingly modern. When I read that right after college, I couldn't believe how similar it was in style to modern books. L. M. Montgomery (who wrote around turn-of-the-century, so is borderline modern in my opinion) will always remain one of my favorite authors.

I'm glad fiction writing has come as far as it has, but I definitely still love--and have immense respect for--classics. What are you favorite pieces of classic literature? Authors, titles? Why do you love them? And which ones do you think translate best to today's teens?

Word of the Week - Iridescent

2011-09-19T06:00:00.000-04:00

How do you describe a pearl? It doesn't shine like other gems. Doesn't shimmer, has no fire. It gleams, yes. But it's the rainbow of color that really sets it apart. That . . . you know, the pearlized effect. ;-) Its iridescence.

I can never think of a more accurate word for it, so I was a little frustrated when I looked up "iridescent" and realized it entered English just a wee bit too late for my 1780 book. As in, 16 years later, in 1796. After grumbling for a minute over not being able to justify using it (I'm nit-picky about my word choices like that), I put it aside to wonder about the word.

"Iridescent" comes from the word "iris." Now, we all know "iris," right? The colored part of our eyes. A flower. Yep. But apparently "iris" means rainbow in Greek--hence why the colored part of our eyes are called that. The Greeks would also use it to describe any colored circle, like the round "eyes" on a peacock feather. Pretty neat, huh?

So it makes perfect sense that we would have created a word like "iridescent" to describe that rainbow effect. If only we had created it two decades earlier . . . ;-)

(Photo credited to Georg Oleschinski/Inst. f. Paläont., Uni Bonn via Wikipedia Commons)

My Friend Carole - Getting the Spotlight She Deserves ;-)

2011-09-16T07:31:00.000-04:00

Last week my fabulous friend and crit partner, Carole Brown was the featured ACFW volunteer. I totally missed this (didn't read many loop emails as I was buried in the first week of home school and trying to finish a book), but I'd like to give her a big hand now.

Carole is a simply amazing woman, and I'm going to miss hugging her next week in St. Louis. And Carole is BUSY! In addition to traveling a lot with her husband for their ministry and doting on a new grandbaby, Carole is the ACFW Ohio coordinator and secretary for the Ohio chapter, and has begun a cluster meeting in Cincinnati every month. She's also an assistant for the ACFW book club, one of the ladies who reads the books and then moderates the discussion. Gooooooo, Carole!

When Carole makes it to conference, she inevitably volunteers there as well, usually at the agent/editor appointment area. She gives so selflessly of her time that I'm not sure she ever makes it to class, LOL.

Carole has a great blog that I encourage everyone to check out. I always enjoy my visits there.

Now, I'm finally introducing the next giveaway, which will likely run through October, given how late I'm getting it started. This one will be for our fabulous WhiteFire lineup! My two biblicals, the amazing Shadowed in Silk by Christine Lindsay, set in India of 1919, and our newest book, which doesn't release until 1 October--a beautiful medieval love story by Dina Sleiman, Dance of the Dandelion.

To enter, just leave a comment on this or any other subsequent Friday post, encouraging Carole. For an extra entry let me know if you're following Carole's blog. (Leave separate comments so that I can just count 'em up without thinking, LOL.)

Thoughtful About . . . the ACFW Conference!

2011-09-15T08:10:00.000-04:00

Am I the only one out there slightly amazed that the ACFW conference is only a week away? I knew it was coming. I had in fact thought, for a while, it was coming this week rather than next. But I've been so focused on finishing my Revolutionary War novel that until I completed that on Monday, I'd hardly spared a thought to conference prep.

Last year, I'd planned on going to conference. That is, until it came down to needing to register. As I considered it, I remember thinking, "This just isn't the year." I had no idea what I would pitch. To whom I would hope to pitch it. Where I was going in my career. I was in the midst of writing Jewel of Persia for WhiteFire, but that wasn't something I needed to present to anyone else. Which left me with the same projects I'd pitched before and the distinct idea that nothing would come of it.

So my hubby and I made the decision to focus on growing WhiteFire and forgo conference last year. "I'll have a better idea of where I am next year, I think." So we went on vacation. And had a beautiful, perfect time with the family.

I'm still amazed at all that's happened in a year. Not only did I renew acquaintances with a few editors that I value super highly, but I also wrote and sold a book to Summerside that's coming out in two and a half months!! I've gotten to watch Jewel of Persia take off, which is super exciting. And we've expanded WhiteFire with some of the best books I've read in years.

All in all a great year. And I felt definite peace about going to ACFW this year. Registered, paid, signed up for my classes, even volunteered. When I did all this, I had this idea that I needed to connect with every possible editor, and a vague one that it may be time to search for a new agent, as my original one was focusing on publishing. I kept thinking, "Okay, I've got Annapolis. But what about after that??" I thought I'd be pitching anything I could.

Since registering, I've signed with the amazing Karen Ball as my agent. I've got two other deals on the line, though certainly not guaranteed. And I've got this beautiful realization in front of me--I'm not going to the conference this year to pitch. I'm just going to bask in the wonders of the industry I love and see where the Lord leads me.

I've yet to get a dress for the award's banquet (which I had two months ahead of time last time I went). I didn't even think about business cards until last week, and I was putting one-sheets together (overview of my genres this time, upon Karen's recommendation, rather than specific to a book) just the last two days. If someone asks me for an elevator pitch, I may just laugh at them.

But that's okay. Because I'm not going to be hunting down agents and editors at meals this year. I'll have appointments, see what those editors are looking for. Talk to them, hopefully laugh with them. And count it a success on that front.

Mostly, I'm just looking forward to these three days of being a writer. Living it, breathing it. Hanging with my peeps. I'm grinning over the fact that I apparently signed up for a career-tracking class taught by my own Karen Ball, whose classes I didn't realize at the time I would so adore. I get to take it beside my best friend, whom I haven't seen in two years. It's going to be a blast!

And yeah, I'm going tonight or tomorrow to shop in my aunt's closet for a dress for the banquet. ;-) (She also offered me her shoes, which is akin to heaven on earth.)

I'm excited. Not because I'm hoping to make successful pitches, for once, but because I know I'm where I need to be.

I had no idea how right I was last summer when I cited that as my reason for not going to conference in 2010. But praise the Lord I listened!

Remember When . . . The Era Changed?

2011-09-14T07:04:00.000-04:00

Last year around this same time, I was shifting gears--moving from work on Jewel of Persia to work on Love Finds You in Annapolis, Maryland. It was a pretty big shift, I grant you. Both historical, but . . . yeah, not a lot in common otherwise, and it took me a goodly while to successfully switch gears in my li'l brain.

I'll be honest. When I dove into the 1780s, it wasn't my favorite era. The fashions were still unfamiliar. Powdered hair, paniers, sack-backs . . . It just wasn't what I knew. I'd written in the 1860s, the 1880s, the 1920s, but the 1780s?? What in the world had I gotten myself into?

Speech patterns were different. Vocabulary, tricky. I like to stay true to the language as much as possible without being confusing to modern readers, but so many words I use regularly weren't around yet.

But after reading some era work, studying the era fashion and culture, I wrote. And I fell a little bit in love with the elaborate coils of hair and the wide-hipped dresses. The beautiful mannerisms and the formality of life. Enough in love that I've spent the summer working on another book set 1779-80.

At this point, I've grown accustomed to the cadence of speech I settled on as a compromise between what it was and what modern readers will "get." I close my eyes and see sack-back gowns and shades of hair powder. It's comfortable, and it's beautiful.

So naturally, it's time to shift gears again, LOL. Back to the 1860s, of all things, though on a different continent than what I've written before. I'm excited to have this new project to work on, but when I sat down to write my first scene I had this moment of realization--I needed different speech patterns, different fashion. A different setting, which means different similes. A totally different feel.

It took me a few days to wrap my brain around the changes, some reading of appropriate books, some revisiting of hoop dresses and sugary-sweet mannerisms. I'm exciting to really dive into it all, and into the history I'm going to need to draw on for this new book.

But I'm going to miss the 18th century. That century that at first befuddled and confused me, that I didn't quite love now has a very special place in my heart. Hopefully I can revisit it someday in the near-ish future.

I'm really grateful for this opportunity that requires the shift of gears. And I'm also really grateful that when it comes down to it, I just love history. Might take me a while to really fall in love with each era for its unique features and fashions, but once I discover what sets it apart . . . ah.

Story Time - Savoring

2011-09-13T07:52:00.000-04:00

Right now I'm reading The Colonel's Lady by amazing author Laura Franz. Thus far, here are my impressions: deep, lovable characters. Awe-inspiring writing. Compelling plotline.

Which begs the question of why I've been reading it for a month already, LOL. I feel like I'm really not giving Laura and this book their dues by going so long between picking it up, and when I do, I can only manage a few pages before the day's exhaustion overcomes me. But last night as I squeezed in five pages, I realized I was really savoring every word. I knew I wouldn't read much--it was already bed time, and my eyes were sliding shut. But as I moved my eyes over expert phrases that perfectly crafted the characters in my mind, this was me:

Happy siiiiiiiiiiggggghhhhh. ;-)

Amazingly, I've yet to forget a single detail of what I've read thus far, though it's occasionally been two weeks between my chapters. Why? Maybe in part because I'm reading slowly, savoring. Letting it all sink in before I turn a page. But also because the author has done an amazing job making a story and characters who stand out, sterling, in the reader's mind.

So. I can't offer a full review of the full story yet. But I can say that I've heard enough about what's coming next that I really, really hope I have time to read more soon! And I can also say that what I've read thus far has convinced me anew that this is an expert author who knows her stuff and delivers it with amazing beauty.

(It also must be noted that the heroine's name is Roxanna, which I have been mistakenly called enough that it still gives me a jolt to read it, LOL)

Missing Mary

2011-09-12T07:05:00.000-04:00

On Saturday I got the news that my critique partner and good friend of four years, Mary Proctor, lost the battle to cancer on Friday afternoon. I can't tell you how hard this hit. How much I'll miss her. How big an impact this godly woman had on my life.

It had been a while since I'd heard from Mary, but she'd been weighing heavily on my heart and mind this past week, and I emailed her just Thursday to ask her how she was doing and tell her I was praying for her. I doubt she ever read the message, but I'm glad the Lord prompted me to send it. Glad He spoke to my spirit to tell me to pray.

Today it seems fitting to remember Mary as her family and local friends are gathering for her funeral. I know this is more for me than my readers, but I beg your indulgence.

Mary's motto always came down to "Praise the Lord anyhow." No matter what went wrong, what discouragements came her way, what pain struck, that was her response. That was what I most loved about her. That her joy for the Lord bubbled out of her even in the darkest of times. That she let it carry her away so much she once injured herself dancing in church.

That's Mary.

Grief, sorrow, are very personal, selfish things. I know Mary's happy, praising God and glorifying her Savior. I rejoice for her in that. But oh, how I'll miss her wise counsel. How I'll miss her long emails. How I'll miss finding her at conference and giving her a big hug.

Mary was my first critique partner, the first fellow-writer ever to read my work. In the last four years, she's read everything I've written. Offered her advice, never believing how valuable it was. Loved me and encouraged me. Spoken such amazing things into my life.

"Despair not small beginnings, Roseanna--that's what the Lord told me when I prayed about WhiteFire."

"I always sensed a deep spirit in you. I'm so glad to see it blooming."

"I believe you're going to make it, and make it big. I know it. Your time of success is coming soon."

I could always count on Mary to be a prayer warrior when I needed one. To offer honesty and truthfulness. To encourage and support.

I thank the Lord for the time I had to know and appreciate her, for the role she played in my life, and I pray I was even a fraction of the blessing to her that she was to me. I thank the Lord for the spirit He gave her, for the love that filled her. I thank the Lord for finally restoring her to wholeness, if not in the way I wanted.

And I thank Him, too, for a family to hold me while I cry. For a husband who just gathers me close and says, "I know." For a daughter who carefully writes "I love you Mommy" on a slip of paper and presses it into my hand. For a son who snuggles up beside me in silence while the storm rolls through.

I thank Him for giving me a tomorrow in which to remember her, and all the other loved ones that have gone before. I thank Him through smiles and tears, through joys and sorrows.

I thank Him for Mary.