On March 19, I started a devotional book, and for a solid month, I had been at my computer, typing happily. I kept on my self-imposed schedule and produced a few devotionals a day. I was happy. I was organized. I was focused.
And then I decided to share my re-entry to the writing world with others. This brought me to social media, which brought me to the blog, which had me thinking about hosting authors on the site again, which then led me to Canva to design graphics for the aforementioned sites, which led me back to Facebook, which, by the magic of pressing a link, brought me here again.
When my “writing world” gets cluttered with distractions, I think of Jane Austen and her portable writing box. When she lived in the Chawton cottage, her biggest distraction was the squeaky door into her bedroom.
I have a multitude of “squeaky doors,” and Google is the key to finding many of them. I also have these cute cats, laundry, birds chirping outside, and the desire to snack even though I am not hungry.
(At the top of the screen, I spot the number of Facebook notifications. I resist the temptation to check them out and decide, instead, on a speedy ending to this blog post.)
At the end of today, my husband will ask, “Did you get a lot of writing done?”
“Yes,” I can answer without fibbing.
After all, I wrote this.
Our family has over 100 Christmas books but only 4 Easter books. In an effort to expand our library with books that offered a true meaning of Easter, I ended up with an extensive book list. The Legend of the Three Trees has been our favorite for many years, but now that I have two teenagers, I wanted to reach them where they are now.
I was thrilled to find Lee Strobel’s The Case for Christ and The Case for Faith in Kids’ (8-12) editions and student editions (teens). I have met Lee Strobel, and he’s the most genuine person. Here’s my copy of The Case for Christ as well as his autograph. I plan to read The Case for Easter: A Journalist Investigates the Evidence for the Resurrection this Easter season.
I had intended to release The Secrets We Keep after a month or so of promotion, but after uploading the book on Smashwords, I just couldn’t allow it to sit there and not be read by someone other than Mindy (my amazing friend and editor who deserves endless accolades) and me. After all, some of you have been waiting 1,765 days since the release of NBTAM to get the second installment. (Yes, I am finding more and more uses for that date calculator. See previous post.)
When asked why I am offering the book for free, I have a few answers for that query:
Okay, that is all. I am going to work on book #3. I have made a promise to write a little every day, so I can continue delivering books to all of you.
Thank you for your support and encouragement.
It has been 952 days or “roughly” 82,252,800 seconds since I posted on this blog. I’d like to say I have a reason for this long hiatus from the blogosphere, but over the last 2 years, 7 months, and 9 days, I have just been…
(d) all of the above
Yes, you should choose (d), but I am no longer (b) or (c) since I have been exceedingly (a) as I get ready to release my second book. So…that’s why I’m back on the blog: I’m starting to promote The Secrets We Keep.
By the way, if you are interested in finding the duration between two dates, use this Date to Date Calculator. It’s much faster than using your brain. Sadly, I had that eureka moment after I used mental math to figure out the answer.
[This article first appeared here.]
I placed the gifts in the trunk, strapped two wiggly children into their car seats, and set the egg nog and muffins on the front seat, and as I rolled down the driveway, I hit play on the CD player. Bing Crosby’s low voice crooned:
When I’m feeling blue, when I’m feeling low,
I start to think about the happiest man I know.
Now he doesn’t mind the snow, he doesn’t mind the rain,
But all December you will hear him at your window pane,
Singing again and again and again and again and again:
The music filled the cabin as we weaved through the empty streets of our subdivision and out onto the abandoned roads. The Kentucky sky, hovering low, threatened rain. As we joined the light highway traffic, the clouds spat the first drops. Split, splat. The intermittent raindrops reached a crescendo, drumming louder as we exited the highway and veered toward the airport. Ker-plunk, ker-plunk. Then the car pulled under an overhang of the terminal, and the music boomed from the speakers again:
I’ll be home for Christmas
You can plan on me
Please have snow and mistletoe
And presents on the tree
The kids and I scanned the crowd, eager to spot our favorite pilot. “There he is!” one yelled. “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!” screeched the other.
Daddy strolled toward us, without any bags, and opened the door. He moved breakfast to his lap and smiled into the backseat. “Merry Christmas.” Then, with a softer, sadder voice, he looked at me. “I only have an hour.”
The car entered the rain again and circled the airport. My husband reached over and found his favorite Christmas song:
Let me tell you a tale that is often told
In the great Celestial Hall
All about an angel only four years old
The littlest angel of all.
Then we found shelter from the rain in a multi-leveled parking garage. There, on Christmas morning in 2006, our family shared Christmas together.
In my 39 years, I have forgotten many Christmases, like the ones by a tree in a warm cozy home, but as for my family, we will never forget the one we shared in the parking garage of the Cincinnati airport.
Merry Christmas—wherever you are, I hope it’s happy!
I have one more poetry post…
Grace Miller lives in Kentucky and is in the 8th grade. She enjoys writing and has her own blog: http://www.ifellinlovewithagoddess.blogspot.com/
He intended love forever,
that it never hinder,
many people have changed these days,
and that love now seems to fade,
hiding in the souls of those,
who may never know what love really holds,
the beauty, the grace, the happiness, the laughs,
what many people seem to lack,
they run around with sorrow in their heads,
like little puppets strung to a thread,
for what love truly holds,
I can not explain,
you’ll have to get into it
to know what you’ve gained.
My thanks to everyone who commented on the blog this month. Darlene and Marianne won autographed copies of Nothing but Trouble after Midnight. Congratulations to both of you! 🙂
Tyler Frost is a theater arts and English literature major at Marquette University. He enjoys old things, movies, and good conversation and hopes to be a professional actor someday. Tyler doesn’t write very often, but he likes to let feelings out through it and enjoys being creative. He hopes you enjoy the rough draft of his poem.
I do not understand why you are lost
In this world of fruits and much abundance
Your soul and body are bitten with frost
You should complete your circle’s circumference
You were not there during most of my time
Which is somewhat understandable though
Sometimes you look like you are full of grime
One of your mistakes, I was loved and grew
It is hard to get out of the bad ways
Once we know it, it’s our way of being
You should think about it by the ocean bay
Look out and compare space you are seeing
You’ll see much room which means you can still be
Anything that’s good, just climb up the tree.