Category: seasons

Life Talk, seasons, writing

Golden September Days & Crisp Nights

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The headline refers to both how September has been this year, and also to a few literary quotes:

That September was a month of golden mists and purple hazes […] a month of sun-steeped days and of nights that were swimming in moonlight or pulsating with stars.

-Anne’s House of Dreams, LM Montgomery

September came in with golden days and silver nights …

-The Return of the King, JRR Tolkien

And from one of my favorite lesser-known books:

September was very Septemberish that year.

-Betsy in Spite of Herself, Maud Hart Lovelace

September has indeed been surprisingly Septemberish in New England this year! Golden days that are warm but not summer-hot, cool nights with crisp air, leaves just starting to turn colors, and the glorious promise of a proper autumn just around the corner. My kids were thrilled to be able to start the school year without sweltering heat, and I have enjoyed being able to open my office windows at work during the day instead of needing the air conditioner to keep the temperature bearable.

“But how is the writing coming?” I hear you ask in plaintive tones, enjoying the description of the weather but much more interested in story updates. (At least, I hope that’s what I am hearing from you …)

Writing Update

Never fear, writing is happening! Slowly, as I am making some health discoveries which are prompting some changes to my lifestyle (more about that once I have something a bit more concrete to share–right now everything is still fairly nebulous), but writing nonetheless. I have finally had a chance to browse through Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way, which my good friend A.M. Offenwanger has been recommending to me for years. I’m not quite in a place to do the full twelve-week workshop, but I have started trying to incorporate daily morning pages (3 handwritten pages or half an hour of writing, whichever comes first) and weekly artist dates (trying being the operative word there … I’m not very good at thinking up outings that refill my creative cup) into my routine. And just last night, I began work on Julia Part 3–the final installment of Julia’s story, to be shared with newsletter subscribers sometime this fall! I am also nearly done with the first draft of Len’s holiday short story. I’d still like to have that available for purchase for this holiday season, but we’ll have to see–I am learning to be cautious in my goals, given my current energy levels (low. They are low. But we’re figuring out why and making progress toward improvement).

Book Selling

At the end of August I took part in a book festival for authors in my part of New England, and had a blast. I used to help sell my sister’s hand-crafted silver jewelry at craft shows when I was a teen, and I’d almost forgotten the fun of interacting with people and working with them to try to match them to their perfect purchase. Books are a little different from earrings, bracelets, and necklaces–you either like a genre or you don’t, and if I happen to write in a genre you don’t like, there’s not a whole lot either of us can do about that–but it’s still fun. I’ve been researching other local (or local-ish) events I can sell my books at, now that I’ve remembered how much I enjoy this sort of thing. There are a couple of Christmas artisans markets locally that I’ve asked if they’ll accept independently-published books at, and one huge fall festival that I am too late to apply this year for, but will definitely be visiting in hopes of getting an idea what it might be like to do it next year (well, that and purchasing Christmas presents early–two birds with one stone). I’ve learned I would far rather sell my books in person than attempting to do it through social media marketing!

New Start

Between Carl’s years in grad school, the years homeschooling the girls, and my own brief time recently as a returned student myself, September has always felt like the start of a new year, even more than January 1. While I’m not starting any major projects this year, it still feels like a fresh start on the ongoing projects, and a fresh look at the way I market and sell my books. I am excited to see what the upcoming “year” holds for my writing career–and looking forward to sharing the adventure with you all as it happens.

Life Talk, seasons

Christmas Trees, Allergies, Thyme, and Patient Husbands

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I discovered after moving to Maine two and a half years ago that I am allergic to pine pollen (the irony of living in the Pine Tree State and being allergic to our state symbol is not lost on me). When I had some difficulties breathing around our Christmas tree last year, even though it was a balsam, I assumed it was related. It was a mild nuisance, but nothing too terrible, and so I figured I could live with a month of a Christmas tree again this year.

Well. What seemed like a good idea at the end of last month quickly deteriorated, as within two weeks of having it set up I couldn’t even be in the same room before my chest tightened and I started wheezing. This was likely exacerbated by my allergies to the dust our pellet stove in the dining room puts out, but between the two, I was having to spend 90% of my time upstairs in the sitting corner I created in the master bedroom (which was very cozy, I will admit, though not enough to make up for having to sequester myself away from everyone).

When my brain started to fog and I was struggling to complete various school and editing projects I had on hand, we knew we had to do something. I started doing some deeper research, and learned that the issue with the Christmas tree was most likely due to mold spores in the wood, as pollen is of course not an issue this time of year and with a cut tree. One of my friends had been dealing with mold in her living space (which she just moved out of because of how bad the mold was!), and thanks to her, I knew what to do. We mixed up a batch of thyme oil (thymol), rubbing alcohol, and water, and my wonderfully caring and patient husband took all the ornaments off the tree (with the help of our elder daughter, who kept saying it felt really really weird to be taking ornaments OFF the tree less than a week after they were put on) and sprayed down the tree thoroughly with the mixture.

I hadn’t realized before this that thymol is the equivalent to bleach, or even better, when it comes to disinfecting and killing bacteria, but wow, it really does work. Our house reeked of concentrated thyme overnight (luckily it was a warm enough night we could keep the bedroom windows all open a crack), but by this morning it had dissipated enough that we could bear going into the living room again. And guess what? I can breathe in there now! I haven’t tried sitting near the tree for any length of time yet, but that will be the next step. Still, the fact that I can be in there at all is reassuring. Now, if only the pellet stove issues had such an easy solution …

As a bonus, even though the thyme concentrate scent has dissipated considerably, our house still smells somewhat like an Italian restaurant. Pizza for supper, anyone?

Maybe for next Christmas I should write a story of Maia and Len attempting to solve the mystery of the Christmas tree allergies … slightly anachronistic, but hey, it would amuse me, if nothing else. For this year, we’ll continue to make do with While Shepherds Watch as our Christmas story! It may not have allergies, but it does have a rumored ghost, Christmas lambs, and a cad who needs a lesson in manners taught to him!

Let me know some of your wacky holiday stories in the comments! Have any of you ever had to dismantle and then redecorate your tree for any reason? Ever have a balsam tree that smells like thyme? Any tips on getting rid of dust from a pellet stove? (Yes, we do dust the house regularly, but it just isn’t enough. Every time my husband fills the hopper I start to wheeze again.)

Merry two-and-a-half weeks before Christmas, everyone!

goals, publishing, seasons

Back Here Again

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The change has been made, and everything looks good on my end. If you are a subscriber, would you mind leaving a brief comment to let me know this post showed up in your feed? I would like to make sure that it works for my followers as well as for me.

If everything is sorted on your end as well as mine, then you may stay tuned for some more exciting posts/news coming soon! I have a book review to share, as well as info on how to subscribe to the coming-soon newsletter, and maybe even some book news to share by the end of the summer.

I hope your summer is going well! If you don’t want to simply leave a boring “it works” comment here, feel free to let me know of any interesting things you’ve been doing this last month-and-a-half (“summer is halfway over,” folks around here keep reminding each other, with doom or relief depending on how one feels about hot weather and tourist traffic). Mine so far has been full of traveling and projects–sounds about right for this time of year!

favorites, Life Talk, seasons

Worm Moon

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Tonight is March’s full moon, known as the worm moon, and in its honor I am posting the poem of that same name by Mary Oliver.

Worm Moon – Mary Oliver

1

In March the earth remembers its own name.

Everywhere the plates of snow are cracking.

The rivers begin to sing. In the sky

the winter stars are sliding away; new stars

appear as, later, small blades of grain

will shine in the dark fields.

And the name of every place

is joyful.

2

The season of curiosity is everlasting

and the hour for adventure never ends,

but tonight

even the men who walked upon the moon

are lying content

by open windows

where the winds are sweeping over the fields,

over water,

over the naked earth,

into villages, and lonely country houses, and the vast cities

3

because it is spring;

because once more the moon and the earth are eloping –

a love match that will bring forth fantastic children

who will learn to stand, walk, and finally run

    over the surface of earth;

who will believe, for years,

that everything is possible.

4

Born of clay,

how shall a man be holy;

born of water,

how shall a man visit the stars;

born of the seasons,

how shall a man live forever?

5

Soon

the child of the red-spotted newt, the eft,

will enter his life from the tiny egg.

On his delicate legs

he will run through the valleys of moss

down to the leaf mold by the streams,

where lately white snow lay upon the earth

like a deep and lustrous blanket

of moon-fire,

6

and probably

everything

is possible.

Mary Oliver

The name of every place is joyful. Spring is coming, my friends.

Life Talk, seasons

January

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I love January. I know it’s considered a bleak month by many, but I enjoy the slower pace after the holidays, the feel of a fresh start, the cold and the quiet of winter.

There’s a peace to January, one that is balm to my soul.

(come February and March, though, I start yearning for spring as much as the next person.)

Books, Sci-fi, seasons, writing

Sparks of Light

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There’s a lot of heaviness in the world right now. The holiday season can be rough–while there is a great deal of joy that comes with Christmas, it can also be a time of sorrow and/or weariness to many. Even in my own family, we’re struggling to maintain a Christmas spirit against 3+ weeks of illness and some unexpected travelling for Carl to be with his family in their time of need, as his aunt is in the hospital with pancreatic cancer.

Here in the UK, there’s been a lot of stress and tension over the recent general election, and a great deal of fear on all sides about what comes next. The US political scene isn’t much better, frankly.

Sometimes it can feel like the darkness presses in too closely, and looking around, there’s very little hope to be seen.

So on an impulse this weekend, I chose my most hope-filled book (aka the only one without any murders) and made it free until 1 January. No gimmicks, no strings, just my way of lighting a candle against the dark.

Kind of appropriate, when you think about it, that this book should be titled From the Shadows. Here’s to stepping out of the shadows and into the light.

Whisked from her troubled, solitary life to a spaceship centuries in the future, the young widow and musician Riss Waldon must first figure out how she got there, and then if it’s possible to get home. Before long, she is visiting strange and deadly planets and meeting new alien races, and forming friendships with the crew. Even as they strive to discover a way for her to return, she wonders if it possible to step out of the shadows of her past life and stay here. But when the well-being of the entire crew rests on her shoulders, she isn’t sure she’s up to the task. What if she fails them? All she can do is try …

Available at:

Barnes & Noble, iBooks, Kobo, Smashwords, and Amazon (Amazon will only let me drop the price to $0.99, but if enough people report it as free elsewhere they just might lower it all the way there as well–it’s worth a shot).

May this be a season of hope for you, friends, whatever your circumstances. That is my earnest prayer for all of us.

Family, God, Life Talk, seasons

Another Bend in the Road

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Dear friends,

Those of you who receive our family newsletter in addition to subscribing to this blog will already have an inkling what this post is about. For those of you who don’t, here goes.

As of February 2, our family will moving back to the U.S. from England for the foreseeable future.

There are a number of factors behind this decision. Health needs in our extended family have been drawing us back to be near to our loved ones and help them in whatever way possible–Carl is in Houston, TX right now, in fact, visiting his aunt in the hospital with pancreatic cancer. At the same time, Carl has felt a growing uncertainty as to whether an academic career in Biblical Studies is really what God is calling him toward, or if, rather, it is time for him to put what he has already learned into action in a local church and community. We have already learned before this that sometimes it looks as though God is calling us to a specific end, when in reality it is the journey that is important.

Whether that be the case here or not, what is certain is that we need to return to the States to support and care for our family. This is not, right now, an official goodbye to the PhD: Carl will be intermitting for the next six months and then will make a final decision–to withdraw or return to Cambridge–this summer.

Carl’s engineering firm has offered him a full-time position in one of their New England offices, which means Maine is our ultimate destination once we’re back. We are looking forward to living near the ocean again, as well as being close enough to mountains to go hiking (or hill walking, if we want to continue to use British terminology once we’re back) on weekends.

To close, I will quite directly from the newsletter:

 As you might imagine, this change has left us more than a little breathless. Our hearts are at peace knowing we are walking in God’s will, though, and we trust that He will continue to make our path clear, as He has ever done. We know with absolute certainty that our time in Cambridge has not been wasted, even though this is not the outcome we’d anticipated. Truly, God’s ways are not ours, and we thank Him that His plans are perfect. Thank you all from the bottom of our hearts for your love, prayers, and support during our time here.  

cross-posted from my Patreon, with a few edits.

goals, Life Talk, seasons, writing

Sabbatical

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For a few years now, I’ve been stifled creatively. I’ve tried all sorts of ways to overcome it–perseverance with writing in hopes of pushing through the creative block; pursuing other creative outlets like knitting; getting more exercise; writing just for fun instead of publication; writing longhand with a fountain pen and a nice notebook instead of typing on the computer, etc.

Nothing has really helped.

Even the two books I published during this time–Glamours and Gunshots in the Whitney & Davies series, and Candles in the Dark as the start of a mystery novella series–felt forced, causing more stress than joy in the process of creating them (I had more fun researching Candles than writing it, which really isn’t how it’s supposed to go).

Moving to England was supposed to be a creative re-awakening for me. When we visited two years ago in March, I felt more alive than I had in ages. I was sure coming here to live would have the same effect, only more so. I was sure I would find my creative flow again.

I haven’t.

Since arriving, I have toyed with the idea of taking a month-long break from writing. Maybe longer, maybe six months. Maybe a year? But then I would have the idea for another story, and I would think that maybe I just had been tired. I would start to write the story … and everything would collapse on itself again, like an overdone soufflé. The story that had seemed so vibrant in my head would get stuck somewhere between my imagination and my fingers, and only something lifeless would appear on paper (or computer screen).

So last week, I made up my mind, and realized that I need to state it publicly or else I’ll be tempted to go back on it at some point. Accountability is important!

2019 is my sabbatical year for writing. I’ll still be doing my weekly journal posts and monthly flash fictions for Patreon–and at some point I will write a short story for the higher-level patrons–but aside from that, I am Not Writing. Maia and Len, Pauline, all the other stories I’ve been working on behind the scenes … they will wait until 2020.

It’s a little scary to think about. It’s also exciting. Taking a break from writing gives me a chance to pursue other interests for a change. I can study some of the subjects that fascinate me but I never have time for. I can finally finish all the knitting projects I have in the works! I can devote a proper amount of time to learning French (and Italian, in preparation for when we get around to visiting Rome). I can work on figuring out whether I’m a soprano still or if my voice really has changed to alto, and if the latter, how to sing harmony.

More importantly, I can stop feeling so torn between responsibilities and calling, and can try living a more whole life.

I will post occasional updates here throughout the year to keep you all informed as to how it’s going. Wish me–not luck, but a good journey!

1920s, Family, Life Talk, philosophy, publishing, seasons, writing

Ring out the old, Ring in the new

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I was planning to write a years-end wrap-up post for 2018, but realized that almost all I could remember about the year was the move at the end of September, and everything past that. A three-month wrap-up isn’t what anyone asked for!

It was a much fuller year than that, though, at least according to my photo album.

Between January and September, we: met one of my internet friends in real life, after trying to make it happen for years; went skating on Frog Pond (and our local rink) as a family; went to a book signing by Susan Cooper; visited the beach a final time (or two); went to the aquarium where Joy and Grace got kissed by a fur seal; had my parents out for a visit; celebrated Joy finishing up all the Basic levels for figure skating; visited the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston; moved away from Hamilton after 5 years; celebrated 14 years of marriage with Carl and I having a weekend getaway to VT; planted a tree for Carl’s mom; spent a week in Acadia National Park.

Not included in the photo collage would be the numerous family reunions, the many trips to the bird sanctuary, the bike rides, the power outages, the swimming, the schooling …

I guess, thinking it over, it was a pretty full year after all, even before the move.

We are now in the second day of 2019. What this year holds, I don’t know. I wouldn’t mind if it were a little less eventful than 2018! But whatever comes, I know we’ll meet it as a family, with determination and with laughter, and we’ll move forward together.

(Oh yeah, I also published a volume of short stories and a novel in 2018. I guess you might consider that kind of a big deal!)

I am not making specific goals, or even choosing a specific word for this year: rather, I am open to whatever comes. Let’s see what 2019 has to offer!

Life Talk, seasons

Happy Advent

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girls_tree

We were given a small Christmas tree by former Tyndale residents who are moving to Ethiopia; the first day we explored our new flat I found a box full of Christmas decorations and fairy lights tucked away in the living room closet, left by former tenants.

We put on Christmas music, ate cheese and crackers from Sainsbury’s and homemade gingerbread cake (topped with brandy cream for the adults) and turned our home into a wonderland.

Waiting is hard–but it can be beautiful as well. December is the month of hope, my friends. Let’s light the dark together.