I enjoy writing family drama, and I’m not quite sure why. Maybe it’s the interchange of dialogue that isn’t romantically based. Romance bits are actually my least favorite to write because often they are so predictable, but with family drama you never know what’s going to happen. Writing it brings me joy, however it is …
I promised to share a little bit about one of my main characters, Honey, in my upcoming historical mystery, By Broken Birch Bay. Honey is tall, blonde, mild mannered and almost the exact opposite of her sister, Petra. The sisters had grown up close, but when Petra had moved away, a part of Honey had …
My latest historical novel, In a Grove of Maples, is inspired by my grandparents, my dad’s folks, and their lives as Wisconsin farmers in the late 1890’s.
Amidst the beauty of a temperate spring day, with the backdrop of a lake as blue as the sky, and a floral palette of dusty blues and burgundies, I had the privilege of celebrating, with family and friends this last Saturday, at my son’s wedding reception.
Ask people what ranks high on their list of thanks, and likely it will be family. I have a wooden plaque in my kitchen with the words “Family is Forever” on it. I love my family and am so grateful for each member.
Life is precious; love is enough and the most we can ask for. In this aspect, I can be content, despite my health or how many books I sell or don’t sell, that agent I wish I had, or any number of things. I’ve lived a good life, been loved and have loved, past and present. I have been and am blessed.
Today I want to relate the aspect of mothering in a spiritual way. With Mother’s Day approaching, I thought of this devotional I wrote years ago for a church Mother’s Day event.
Mom has been gone twenty years. A lost battle with leukemia. I like this picture of her in California, young and so full of life.
In a world where we can use our imaginations for so many things and in so many ways, let’s choose to use it to help create a better world. That’s why I write.
I never thought I would say this, but I miss helping my father grow vegetables in the garden. I’ve tried my hand at veggies patches over the years, but they could not hold a candle to what my father could muster.