Jenny Knipfer–Author

Writing to inspire, encourage, and enjoy

On Bur Oak Ridge, celebrating one year in print

Jenny Knipfer

no comments

August 22, 2023

The summer has slipped by, and I have barely blogged. I’ve let a few things slide as my fatigue levels and some of my physical problems are getting worse. However, I want to make more of an effort again. I miss blogging, sharing my thoughts with you and some excerpts from my books.

Today, I’d like to share an excerpt from On Bur Oak Ridge, the third book in my Sheltering Trees series. I am celebrating one year in print this month. It doesn’t seem like it’s been a year! It seems a lot longer than that. I thought I’d share an excerpt from the book in the perspective of one of the main characters.

MOLLY

With a low creak the front door opens, and the men walk in. I turn my back to them and move to place the boiled dinner Mabel and I made in the middle of the table. Rashly, I lift up the handle of the cast-iron pot, forgetting it’s hot. I drop the handle and it clunks against the side of the pot.
“Yow!” I can’t help uttering.
I shake my hand, trying to flap away the pain, red marks blooming on the underside of my middle fingers.
Mr. Woodson steps forward and grabs a tea towel to lift the pot to the table.
“Let me,” his low voice rumbles out.
I keep my eyes lowered as I offer him a “Thank you.”
I don’t need to say more.
Mabel holds her hand out to me, motioning with her fingers, demanding my burning hand. “Oh dear. Let me see.” I don’t resist and place my hand, palm-up, in hers.
“Oooh, that might leave a welt.” Mabel drops my hand and
steps toward the icebox. “I’ll chip off some ice to place on it. Sit down at the table.”
I obey. Lincoln steps closer to his wife.
“Should we do the same, Mae? Is supper ready?” he asks, using his pet name for Mabel, concern present in his tone.
“Surely. Take your seats. This won’t take but a minute, and then you can say the blessing,” Mabel says with confidence.
While she chips at some ice with an ice pick, we all sit, looking a bit uncomfortable. Lincoln watches me with what I imagine is genuine care.
Mr. Woodson, Samuel, folds and unfolds his fingers over the top of his plate and clears his throat several times, yet retains his thoughts and his gaze. It gives me the opportunity to study him. He wears his ash-blond hair long, but his face sports no facial hair. His eyes are wide and well-set but not shrunken. Because of his downcast gaze or the candlelight, I cannot decipher what shade they are. The oval shape of his face puts me in mind of more feminine features, but his strong brow and prominent jaw are decisively masculine. Altogether, he presents a pleasing figure.
Mr. Woodson suddenly glances up, as if he can read my thoughts.
I instantly drop my inspection of him and turn my face, so my good side is to him. My neck begins to prick and itch, and I look at Mabel, begging her to hurry up. She gathers the ice shards in a flour-sack towel, folds it several times, and hands it to me.
“There. You rest your hand on that; it should start to feel better soon. After dinner, I can put some balsam of myrrh on the burn.”
I gulp, swallowing the word “burn.”
I know about burns. I’ve lived through them. Almost died from them.
Mabel’s eyes widen, and she holds perfectly still, a fly caught in a word-web. “I’m…I’m sorry. I didn’t think…”
Her eyes glisten with the brown, gold-flecked sheen of sand- polished ironstone.
“It’s…”
I want to reassure my friend that I’ve put the past behind me and that it no longer has the power to scar me. But I’m unsure. Perhaps it still does.

Thanks for reading! Find out more about the book on my website at: https://jennyknipfer.com/on-bur-oak-ridge/

Molly carries scars within and without that have helped shaped who she has become.

Question:
Do you have any physical scars?

I have the scars of bearing children, several surgeries, and a bump under my chin that I hit on the dashboard of the car when I was a kid. And then the general ravages of time… sigh.

UTWW: Celebrating two years in print

Jenny Knipfer

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June 5, 2023

I can’t believe it’s been two years already since I’ve published the second book in my Sheltering Trees series, Under the Weeping Willow. Of all of the books I have written, this one was the most alive while I was writing it. The setting, being right around our country block from our place, and the things the main characters deal with are close to home and my heart.

It also has the most alive cover. The picture was taken by my brother-in-law at a farm nearby, where I imagined the story to be set, and the model is my niece. It was fun to see my vision for the book cover come together before my eyes. Not many authors probably get to experience that.

Essentially a story about a mother and a daughter, Under the Weeping Willow is told in a split timeline. The story of Enid and her mother, Robin, unfurls in a way that brings readers into tangible settings and real life issues like Alzheimer’s and depression.

AN EXCERPT FROM THE OPENING SCENE:

Enid
June 1983
I rub my hand over my mother’s words. My throat clenches, and I hiccup, forcing back a sob. A tear lands on the lined page of the diary with a splat. The word “willow” starts to bleed with the moisture. I read through the entry once more.


April 10th, 1977
Dear Diary,
I put the silverware in the breadbox today. I don’t know why. I went to pull a loaf of bread out of the red, tin box to make a sandwich, and instead I pulled out a fork. I haven’t found the bread yet.


Yesterday, I couldn’t recall my phone number, when asked to give it over the phone to the clinic scheduler. Nothing appeared in my mind when I tried to imagine it. I could pull no number out of my magical memory hat. I had to read the number off the label under the receiver cradle. After about an hour, the number suddenly came to me, like I’d been hit with it. Did my memory go on vacation for an hour?

I have been noticing these strange things recently. It frightens me. It’s as if someone else has done these things. I don’t remember moving the bread at all. I try, but only a black hole appears in my mind when I do. That emptiness slowly sucks at me, like a vacuum. One day I fear there may be nothing left to remember.


Maybe I’m going crazy, but I swore I’d never go there again. I see the edge of the pond and feel the dangling willow branches tangle in my hair as if it were yesterday. The water pulls at me like Velcro, clinging, drawing me in. Why can I remember that from so many years ago and not where I put the bread today? I know one thing: They will not put me in an asylum for the mentally deranged. Not again.


I lift my eyes from the diary and look out the window in the sitting room. The willow tree still stands watching over the pond despite having battled several storms and suffering lost limbs. I whiled away many a summer day under its canopy of hanging branches. Mom didn’t like me playing by the willow, and she hated the pond. She was always after Uncle Hal to drain it. I never knew why.


The ink smudges as I swipe at the damp spot on the page of Mom’s diary, and I try to comprehend the words. Crazy… asylum? What could she possibly mean?


I swallow the lump in my throat and try not to be overburdened by guilt.
This was Mom’s first full week in the Dunn County Nursing Health Care Center, a glorified name for a nursing home. I hate that I had to admit her, but she’ll be safe. They won’t treat her like a crazy person. Will they? No, dementia is different. Well, Alzheimer’s the doctor called it. The staff are professionals and can care for her better.

I groan and swipe at my eyes. I can tell myself any number of things to justify my mother being tucked away like an old rag doll, but at the bottom of the justification lies the fact that I am the one who brought her there.
I sigh and close the diary, placing it back by her wingback recliner.

Thanks for reading!

Access purchase links and watch the book trailer

Release Day and Research

Jenny Knipfer

2 comments

May 12, 2023

It’s release day for The Regal Pink! I am excited to share Diana, Daniel, Rosalind, and Roderick’s stories with you in this work of fantasy fiction. Even though this novel is in the fantasy/fairy tale genre, I wanted it to have some realistic historical elements pertaining to the medieval setting and characters. I suppose this also drives it into another genre—magical realism. 

Some things I studied up on for the book, pertaining to the mid 1400s:

CLOTHING STYLES:

Long, loose tunics were the basic style for women. Men wore shorter tunics with doublets (a long type of vest)  over top usually with some kind of leggings 

Trivia question… What is a hennin? Please don’t cheat and look it up! 

MEALS AND EATING HABITS:

Strange fact: breakfast was looked down upon by the church and was considered indulgent. Most people did not eat breakfast but had a midday meal and an evening meal.

Plates were not widely used, but a trencher (thick slab of bread) was used as a sort of plate to mop up meat juices. Forks were not yet in use, but people used a knife to cut and spear food. Bowls and spoons were commonly used utensils. 

CASTLES:

I searched through online maps of castles from the middle ages, and found this one that gave me the right feel for the story. I like to have an image like this in my mind for a significant setting. Often it is a place that I have actually seen or been to. I can recall those types of places the best, and they seem the most real when writing a story. But sometimes I use the Internet to give me that visual.

I used medieval era Harlech Castle in England for the main castle setting of The Regal Pink.

About Harlech Castle

I hope you enjoyed the bit of behind-the-scenes research for the book. Order links for the book can be found at: https://jennyknipfer.com/the-regal-pink/

What is a “Pink”?

Jenny Knipfer

8 comments

May 9, 2023

All this week I am posting in my Facebook group, Journeying With Jenny about my upcoming book, The Regal Pink, which releases on Friday. Please join me to read excerpts from the book, get some behind-the-scenes info, and enter into several giveaways. Today I am sharing some history about what a “pink” is.

WHAT IS A PINK?
A pink refers to a flower in the dianthus (latin for divine flower) family called the clove-pink, which is the ancestor of the modern carnation.

Once upon a time, these simple but jagged-edged, bright, five-petaled flowers were simply called pinks. They were used, of course, for their beauty but also in perfumes for their deep floral, clove-like fragrance.

LEGEND:
A Christian legend says that the flowers sprang up from Mary’s tears over Jesus’s plight on the cross.

HISTORY:
The name:
Carnations were mentioned in Greek literature 2,000 years ago. The term dianthus is derived from the Ancient Greek words for divine (“dios”) and flower (“anthos”). The name “carnation” is believed to come from the Latin corona-ae, a “wreath, garland, chaplet, crown”, as it was one of the flowers used in Greek and Roman ceremonial crowns, or possibly from the Latin caro (genitive carnis), “flesh”, which refers to the natural color of the flower.

COLOR MEANING:
The colors of carnation flowers have specific meanings. Pink blooms express motherly love and are a staple in Mother’s Day bouquets. Light red expresses admiration while dark red symbolizes deep love. White blossoms express devotion and wishes for good luck while yellow expresses disappointment and purple shows capriciousness.

THE COLOR:
The idea of “pink” as a color was named for the flowers rather than the other way around. In the eighteenth century, flowers were described as blush, pale red, rose, light red, flesh-colored– never pink.

WHAT DOES THIS HAVE TO DO WITH “THE REGAL PINK”?
Diana, the main character is a “pink” flower fairy and is transformed from her pink, petal-covered fairy-self into the human realm, to aid a boy named Daniel with an unusual gift. This comes directly from the original Grimm’s tale, The Pink.

Do you like carnations? I do!
What’s your favorite color? I like the deep pinks.

Join my Facebook group

With a Hallelujah: a poem and a prayer

Jenny Knipfer

10 comments

March 23, 2023

Life has been very challenging of late—lots of tears, pain, emotions, fears, prayers, rantings, and little or no answers. Because of dealing with all this, I have had no inspiration and energy for writing or author business, much less promoting my upcoming book, The Regal Pink.

Today, in the wee hours of the morning, I dug into a study by Joni and Friends entitled The Gospel in Hard Times. It is just what I need right now. Though it is meant to be done with a group, I am doing it individually. There are videos to watch online too. The one I watched this morning was very inspirational.

Listening to some worship music this morning when I woke up really lifted my spirit as well. I spent a few hours in the depths of despair yesterday. I am thankful that God was there with me. I am glad that there is nowhere that I can go physically, mentally, or emotionally that he is not. He is always with me. Because of that truth and others I can continue on.

I wrote this poem/prayer this morning and thought I would share it with you. I hope that my words might encourage you to keep believing, keep trusting, and keep on living.

With a Hallelujah

Though my song has been stolen, You sing over me.

When my lips cannot even form one plea, You intercede for me.

In the threatening darkness, You light my way.

On the frontline of my battles, You spread the banner of love over me. 

When I think I can no longer go on, You strengthen me.

Though my hope becomes like a caged bird, You free it. 

When fear spreads its fingers around my neck, choking me, You are my breath.

At the edge of the precipice, You make me fly.

When pain floods over me, almost drowning me, You help me walk on water. 

Though my heart quakes within my chest, You make me courageous. 

When I need You, You never fail me. 

And at the end, when nothing else is left to say,

I will die with a a sacrifice of praise and a hallelujah on my lips. 

Thanks for reading. May your day be blessed, J

Recent Reveal: The Regal Pink

Jenny Knipfer

1 comment

February 22, 2023


Recently, I revealed the cover of my upcoming novel, The Regal Pink. I am so thrilled with how the cover turned out. I think it exemplifies the main character and the feel of the book very well. Stepping into writing and publishing in the genre of fantasy is new to me, but I knew I needed to have something eye-catching that fit well with what readers can expect from this genre.

The story is based on a Grimm’s tale, The Pink. Of course, I put my own spin on things and will connect the story to two others—also based on other Grimm’s tales but ones that are more well-known—in the series. Next up in the series is The Wildest Rose, which I will start writing soon. I am drafting a rough outline right now. A fun fact: I am writing a gnome into this one, and my oldest grandson came up with the character’s name.

The ebook for The Regal Pink can be pre-ordered now on Amazon. The book releases in e-book and paperback form on May 12th. 


“This inventive novel has more layers than first meets the eye, elevating it far beyond a simple retelling of a familiar story into a uniquely, entertaining, genre-blending work of romantic fantasy.”

Self-Publishing Review

💕ABOUT THE BOOK💕

A young man who can grant wishes. A fairy hoping for her wings. A king and queen seeking an heir. 

Far, far away, in the fairy tale kingdom of Evermoor, young, gifted Daniel dreams of escaping his life in captivity and his dastardly Uncle Aldrich. Diana, a flower fairy charged with guiding Daniel, helps him channel his ability to grant wishes, but his uncle exploits Daniel’s gift, stealing the wishes for himself.

Warned not to fall prey to mortal love, Diana keeps a friendly distance from Daniel, but she cannot deny her growing feelings for him. Will she shield her heart or risk losing the chance to ever go back home to the Green Glade and gain her fairy wings?

In the same kingdom, childless King Roderick and Queen Rosalind have become divided by a great sorrow. Battling the wounds of the past, the monarchs make a valiant effort to move forward, but can they learn to trust each other again? What future can the kingdom have without an heir? 

Readers of fantasy, Christian fantasy, clean romance, and YA fantasy will be enraptured with this gripping tale of overcoming the past and embracing hope, layered with romance for both the young and the young at heart.

“Knipfer has created a well-constructed story with all the elements of a classic fairy tale: a royal family, a lost prince, magical creatures, and determined villains.” Readers’ Favorite, five-star review 

“A heady blend of magical realism, myth, and references to God’s force in the world that will involve readers in a complex, appealing rendering of Grimms original ‘The Pink’.” Donavon’s Literary Services 

A short excerpt from The Regal Pink

Daniel
In the 20th reigning year of King Roderick III Evermoor 1451


She tried to kill me in my dreams.


The vision of it rested as real in Daniel’s mind as the clock on the mantle, which he heard striking midnight. As the clock chimed for the last time, he envisioned Diana hovering over his chest with a raised knife, her eyes wide and wild and her cheeks flushing as brightly as the bloom of a clove-pink. The dream had caused Daniel such terror, his heart still pounded thinking about it.


He sucked in a breath and shivered on his pallet by the hearth, which had now gone cold. Daniel stretched the rough, woolen blanket up to his chin. His eyes searched the small room of what passed for his home, expecting Diana to jump out at him, but no one appeared.
Hopefully, she rested better than he did. Her bed sat behind the muslin curtains sectioning off a corner of the room. The curtains hung suspended like a ghost in the moonlight shining in through the window. The fabric fluttered, brought to life by the draft under the door.

Dwelling on his dream, Daniel understood that it wasn’t the idea of dying that had frightened him. No, it was the fact that his friend, whom he had come to love, had held the knife.
What manner of alarming premonition is this? Daniel couldn’t understand how his mind had fabricated Diana taking up a weapon against him.

Surely not!


Uncle Aldrich, Daniel could see. He did not care for Daniel. He only kept Daniel because he proved useful to him.
Daniel grew tired of working his uncle’s wishes. He dreamed of leaving the hovel they lived in, but he didn’t know where to go. Daniel couldn’t comprehend why his uncle had not wished for a life away from this place. Something surely kept him tethered to such a humble abode, or Uncle would have forced Daniel to lay a path of wishes that led to a richer life.

Thanks for reading!

I hope you enjoyed the short excerpt from The Regal Pink and look forward to more tidbits of info and excerpts. J

At the End of Me: a poem

Jenny Knipfer

no comments

January 25, 2023

For sometime, I’ve been thinking, I want to write a poem again, needed to write one. Poetry has always helped me truly express what is inside, more than anything else. So today I tapped this out on my iPad, and I can say I feel much relief over having gotten it out. Maybe you can relate to something in it.

THE END OF ME

The sky is gray,

With no sun piercing through

An eider down,

Now dropping white,

As if tiny feathers from heaven

**********

The clock ticks

My ears ring from age and medication

The highway drones in the distance 

All else is quiet

Except my mind

**********

My thoughts swirl, 

Stirring my heart,

Urging me to release them

On the page

Or burst with the pain of their burden

**********

The written word stabilizes me

In black and white 

But yet no rigid platform,

Rather running together, 

Like fluid paint on a tilted canvas,

Morphing with my e-motion

**********

Words move us

They spark,

Set everything in motion

Give life

Or kill

Taint

Or tame

**********

Words hold power,

The mightest of magic

Instilling hope,

Spurring us on, 

Or feeding our fear

Until we dread life itself

**********

The coin can flip,

On tomorrows

And their supposed mercies

Pain holding the sun,

Captive at the horizon

Each new day,

Another fresh torture

Instead of a blessing

**********

Courage, where are you?

Have you hid from me,

Never to return? 

Or perhaps you are used up,

Like a spent battery? 

But batteries can be recharged,

Can’t they?

**********

What can charge this heart again?

Or should I say whom? 

I know, 

It’s Him, as it always is…

**********

I have no power to hide,

To run away 

To manufacture courage on my own,

or speak it into being

**********

Yet, I weary 

Of asking, pleading, begging 

For relief,

Release

Anything but facing

These alien spasms,

Tomorrow all over again

**********

First contorting me,

Then stiffening me, 

As if they could snap my very bones,

This foreign power, 

Sieging war,

Taking up residence

In my body.

**********

I want it gone,

I want it out,

I want to know it no more,

But yet it remains,

Grows, 

Like yeasted bread dough,

A festering wound,

A weed, or

A cancer

**********

What good can this pain produce?

Patience?

Perseverance?

The Bible tells me so,

But can it be?

Why must it be? 


**********

Too many questions,

Not enough answers,

I long to go back,

To the start of the equation,

To the beginning,

But life can never be,

What it once was

**********

All I can conclude,

Can put my trust in,

Is that God knows more than I do,

Sees more,

For I am so shortsighted

So small-minded 

**********

I do not fear the end of my story,

No, I welcome it, 

The process, however,

The slow shedding of this skin

This disease 

Terrifies, cripples, blinds, mames 

With fear

**********

But I name you, Fear

I call you out

With my sling and stone,

Pauldry, though they may be

Remembering

God fights for me

You don’t stand a chance

**********

Be gone, 

Come what may,

I choose

To fight, to believe, 

In victory,

A hope I cannot yet see

Today

And every day after that

**********

This,

I now realize

Is where courage 

Truly begins—

At the end of me

Excerpt of The Regal Pink

Jenny Knipfer

2 comments

January 14, 2023

FULL COVER REVEAL COMING FEBRUARY 10th!

I thought I’d share an excerpt from my upcoming fairy tale novel, The Regal Pink, which I am releasing just before Mother’s Day on May 12th. Though the story contains romance for the young and the young at heart, it is also very much about a mother and a son, so I thought a Mother’s Day release would be meaningful.
💕👸📚✍️

Daniel
In the 20th reigning year of King Roderick III Evermoor 1451

She tried to kill me in my dreams.

The vision of it rested as real in Daniel’s mind as the clock on the mantle, which he heard striking midnight. As the clock chimed for the last time, he envisioned Diana hovering over his chest with a raised knife, her eyes wide and wild and her cheeks flushing as brightly as the bloom of a clove-pink. The dream had caused Daniel such terror, his heart still pounded thinking about it.

He sucked in a breath and shivered on his pallet by the hearth, which had now gone cold. Daniel stretched the rough, woolen blanket up to his chin. His eyes searched the small room of what passed for his home, expecting Diana to jump out at him, but no one appeared.
Hopefully, she rested better than he did. Her bed sat behind the muslin curtains sectioning off a corner of the room. The curtains hung suspended like a ghost in the moonlight shining in through the window. The fabric fluttered, brought to life by the draft under the door.

Dwelling on his dream, Daniel understood that it wasn’t the idea of dying that had frightened him. No, it was the fact that his friend, whom he had come to love, had held the knife.
What manner of alarming premonition is this? Daniel couldn’t understand how his mind had fabricated Diana taking up a weapon against him. Surely not!

Uncle Aldrich, Daniel could see. He did not care for Daniel. He only kept Daniel because he proved useful to him.
Daniel grew tired of working his uncle’s wishes. He dreamed of leaving the hovel they lived in, but he didn’t know where to go. Daniel couldn’t comprehend why his uncle had not wished for a life away from this place. Something surely kept him tethered to such a humble abode, or Uncle would have forced Daniel to lay a path of wishes that led to a richer life.

Daniel rolled onto his side and thought about his parents. He wished he remembered them. Uncle had told him little over the years about them except that they’d died in a fire when Daniel was a child. Uncle Aldrich said he had rescued Daniel— which Daniel would always be grateful for—but Daniel had no memory of a fire or its smoky fury.

Instead, when he closed his eyes and concentrated, he remembered the sound of splashing water, a garden edged with peachy, sunset-hued clove-pinks, several of which he’d clutched in his hand, and something red, staining the white, pebbled path. That was Daniel’s last memory of his life before he had come to live with his uncle.

Thanks for reading! J

Author Interview: Kayla E. Green

Jenny Knipfer

1 comment

December 5, 2022

Kayla’s recent release

I’m happy to share an author interview I did with Kayla E. Green with you today. Kayla and I connected on Instagram awhile back, and I have enjoyed getting to know her. Kayla writes Christian fantasy, a genre, as an author, I am dipping my feet into as well. I hope you enjoy getting to know Kayla too.

Interview:

  1. What prompted you to pursue publication?

I was raised to be a storyteller. Through read-alouds and bedtime stories as part of our daily routine, my mother fostered a love for literacy in me from an early age. Even before I had mastered the skill of reading, I would make-up my own stories based on book illustrations. I wrote my first “book” in elementary school, complete with my own drawings about a guinea pig wanting a family, and I used electrical tape for the book’s binding. Later, in middle school, I won my first writing contest. Somewhere along the way, with the burden of growing up, I lost that part of me. But, like C.S. Lewis explained to his goddaughter about life, I one day grew old enough to start reading fairytales again. With my return to reading, I started writing again. I realized that I had been ignoring a great passion and ultimately a calling by trying to be what I thought I needed to be versus embracing the stories God was placing on my heart. My faith fuels my writing, and I want to share my stories, and my faith, with others. This ultimately led me to pursue publication. 

  1. What inspired you to write Aivan: The One Truth?

An important scene in Aivan: The One Truth was inspired by a church sermon on Elijah and the prophets of Baal. I had a rough idea for the character of Rune, but it wasn’t until this sermon that I realized who Rune was and what story she was telling. Many Old Testament scenes inspired Rune and Rolf’s journeys in the novella. 

  1. What was the most difficult aspect of writing your novel? The most rewarding? 

The most difficult aspect of writing the novella was trying to weave biblical truth into a fantasy tale that young readers would love. Aivan: The One Truth is actually a prequel novella to the story of Reyna (I will be sharing some related news soon with readers). Trying to introduce readers to the world in a fast-paced, quick-read was challenging. 

The most rewarding part, however, is seeing young readers connect with Rune and Rolf.

Before the novella was published, I did a short reading with a group of seventh grade students. They were hooked with chapter one and begged me to keep reading! That moment of seeing my target audience respond so positively to my story was extremely rewarding. 

  1. What do you hope readers will take away from your book?

I hope readers, specifically young readers, walk away from the novella with a desire for growth in their walks of faith as well as in their character. I want them to see the importance of standing up for truth, even when society preaches lies. I want them to understand that hard things are possible. I want them to recognize that oftentimes our plans don’t work out how we want them to because they are flawed as we are only human and our foresight is limited. And, if a reluctant reader, I want them to see that reading can be, and is, fun. 

  1. Which authors or books have inspired you the most as a writer? 

Patricia Wrede’s Dealing with Dragons is the book that solidified my love for fantasy

stories. Maggie Platt’s Kingdom Above the Cloud is the book that showed me that I could not just write fantasy stories with Christian undertones, but write Christian fantasy – it opened my eyes to a whole new sub-genre. Other authors I love include C.S. Lewis, Roald Dahl, Ray Bradbury, E. B. White, and Janette Oke. 

Hannah Carter, author of the YA fantasy The Depths of Atlantis, is one of my favorite authors. Her talent as a writer, her genuine spirit, her gentle candor, and her strong faith inspire me in so many ways. Hannah’s ability to handle hard, relatable topics with grace is something I aspire to emulate.

  1. What piece of advice would you offer aspiring authors? 

You are not aspiring; you are an author. I struggled with labeling myself as an “author” for a long time. Instead, I told people that I “dabbled in writing” because writing wasn’t my full-time job. I realized it’s all pointless semantics. If you write, you are an author. Life is hard enough without stripping yourself of things you should take pride in; you are an author – wear that badge proudly! 

A second piece of advice I have to offer is don’t let perfectionism keep you from writing. In the words of Jodi Picoult, “You can edit a bad page, but you can’t edit a blank page.” 

  1. What do you enjoy doing when not writing?

When I’m not writing, or working on my never-ending to-do list, I’m usually trying to catch up on sleep. I very much like to sleep. I also enjoy reading, though oftentimes my dogs’ demands for cuddles distract me from reading. But those are happy distractions. I like to sing loudly and off-key to KLove Radio, country music, and Taylor Swift. Pretending I’m a unicorn, spending time with my family, talking with friends, napping, convincing my husband to take me to Logan’s Roadhouse for dinner on the weekends, and watching my favorite three comfort movies over and over are also things I like to do when I happen to have free time.

  1. What 5-10 adjectives would you use to describe yourself? 

Sensitive, nurturing, imaginative, thoughtful, observant, helpful, air-headed, smart, authentic, and dog-obsessed. 

  1. What’s your favorite color and why?

My favorite color is pink. It is bright, bubbly, inviting, and fun. 

Thank you!

Thank you so much for reading Kayla’s interview. I hope enjoyed reading her answers as much as I did! If you’d like to learn more about Kayla or purchase her books, you can find her at:

https://theunicornwriter.com/


Copyright

All posts, photos, graphics, and writing–unless otherwise stated–are under copyright by Jenny Knipfer–Author (c) 2023 and cannot be shared without permission.

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