Building Presence Through Anthologies

I've had the privilege of seeing my writing included in two anthologies. Being asked to participate in such a project is not only an honor, it is also a great way to build your credibility as an author and make some wonderful connections with other writers, publishers, and readers.

25 Years In the Rearview Mirror - 52 Authors Look Back is an anthology that just recently released, compiled and edited by Stacy Juba. In this book, 52 authors talk about what they were doing 25 years ago. Similar to a 'Chicken Soup' anthology, there are all kinds of heartwarming, dramatic, and humorous stories that deal with every aspect of life. My contribution talks about how I juggled my early writing efforts with my role as a new mother.

It is available online through several vendors, including the amazon link HERE.

Taste and See - A Sampling of First Chapters by John 3:16 Marketing Network Authors
This anthology was the brainchild of Lorilyn Roberts, the founder of the 'John 3:16 Marketing Network' (which, by the way, is an excellent place for Christian writers to gain knowledge and support when trying to market their books.) As the title suggests, the anthology is made up of 'first chapters' - everything from various genres of fiction to non-fiction selections such as devotionals, memoirs, how-tos and more. It is a great way to sample some new or fairly unknown authors and hopefully, if you like what you've read, go on to purchase their entire book. Included in the anthology is Chapter One from my novel AND THE BEAT GOES ON.  

You can buy it at several online places including the amazon link HERE.

My first 'First WildCard' - Erin Healy

It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books.  A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured.  The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between!  Enjoy your free peek into the book!




You never know when I might play a wild card on you!

Today's Wild Card author is:

Erin Healy

and the book:

House of Mercy

Thomas Nelson (August 7, 2012)

***Special thanks to Rick Roberson of The B&B Media Group for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Erin Healy is an award-winning fiction editor who has worked with talented novelists such as James Scott Bell, Melody Carlson, Colleen Coble, Brandilyn Collins, Traci DePree, L. B. Graham, Rene Gutteridge, Michelle McKinney Hammond, Robin Lee Hatcher, Denise Hildreth, Denise Hunter, Randy Ingermanson, Jane Kirkpatrick, Bryan Litfin, Frank Peretti, Lisa Samson, Randy Singer, Robert Whitlow, and many others.



She began working with Ted Dekker in 2002 and edited twelve of his heart-pounding stories before their collaboration on Kiss, the first novel to seat her on "the other side of the desk."

Erin is the owner of WordWright Editorial Services, a consulting firm specializing in fiction book development. She is a member of the American Christian Fiction Writers and the Academy of Christian Editors. She lives with her family in Colorado.

Visit the author's website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

Beth has a gift of healing-which is why she wants to become a vet and help her family run their fifth-generation cattle ranch. Her father's dream of helping men in trouble and giving them a second chance is her dream too. But it only takes one foolish decision for Beth to destroy it all.

Beth scrambles to redeem her mistake, pleading with God for help, even as a mystery complicates her life. But the repercussions grow more unbearable-a lawsuit, a death, a divided family, and the looming loss of everything she cares about. Beth's only hope is to find the grandfather she never knew and beg for his help. Confused, grieving, but determined to make amends, she embarks on a horseback journey across the mountains, guided by a wild, unpredictable wolf who may or may not be real.

Set in the stunningly rugged terrain of Southern Colorado, House of Mercy follows Beth through the valley of the shadow of death into the unfathomable miracles of God's goodness and mercy.

Genre: Christian Fiction | Suspense

Product Details:

List Price: $15.99

Paperback: 284 pages

Publisher: Thomas Nelson

Language: English

ISBN-10: 140168551X

ISBN-13: 9781401685515

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Chapter 1

     It wasn’t every day that an old saddle could improve a
horse’s life.

     That was what Beth Borzoi was thinking as she stood in the
dusty tack room that smelled like her favorite pair of leather boots. In the
back corner where the splintering-wood walls met, she tugged the faded leather
saddle off the bottommost rung of the heavy-duty rack, where it had sat, unused
and forgotten, for years.

     Her little brother, Danny, would have said she was stealing
the saddle. He might have called her a kleptomaniac. That was too strong a
word, but Danny was fifteen and liked to throw bold words around, cocky-like,
show-off rodeo ropes aimed at snagging people. She loved that about him. It was
a cute phase. Even so, she had formed a mental argument against the characterization
of her- self as a thief, in case she needed to use it, because Danny was too
young to understand the true meaning of even stronger words like sacrifice or
situational ethics.
     After all, she was working in secret, in the hidden folds of
a summer night, so that both she and the saddle could leave the Blazing B
unnoticed. In the wrong light, it might look like a theft.
     The truth was, it was not her saddle to give away. It was
Jacob’s saddle, though in the fifteen years Jacob had lived at the ranch, she had
never seen him use it. The bigger truth was that this saddle abandoned to
tarnish and sawdust could be put to better use. The fenders were plated with
silver, pure metal that could be melted down and converted into money to save a
horse from suffering. Decorative silver bordered the round skirt and framed the
rear housing. The precious metal had been hammered to conform to the gentle
rise of the cantle in the back and the swell in the front. The lovely round
conchos were studded with turquoise. Hand-tooled impressions of wild mountain f
lowers covered the leather everywhere that silver didn’t.
     In its day, it must have been a fine show saddle. And if
Jacob valued that at all, he wouldn’t have stored it like this.
     Under the naked-bulb beams of the tack room, Beth’s body
cast a shadow over the pretty piece as she hefted it. She blew the dirt and
dander off the horn, swiped off the cracked seat with the flat of her hand,
then turned away her head and sneezed. Colorado’s dry climate had not been kind
to the leather.
     She wasn’t stealing. She was saving an animal’s life.
     The latch on the barn door released Beth to the midnight air
with a click like a stolen kiss. The saddle weighed about thirty-five pounds,
which was easy to manage when snatching it off a rack and tossing it onto a
horse’s back. But it would feel much heavier by the time she reached her
destination. She’d parked her truck a ways off where the rumbling old clunker
wouldn’t raise questions or family members sleeping in the nearby ranch house.
She’d left her dog at the foot of Danny’s bed with clear orders to stay. She
hoped the animal would mind.
     Energized, she crossed the horses’ yard. A few of them
nickered greetings at her, including Hastings, who nuzzled her empty pockets
for treats. The horses never slept in the barn’s stalls unless they were sick.
Even in winter they stayed in the pasture, preferring the outdoor lean-to
shelters.
     The Blazing B, a 6,500-acre working cattle ranch, lay to the
northwest of Colorado’s San Luis Valley. The region was called a valley because
this portion of the state was a Rocky Mountain ham- mock that swung between the
San Juans to the west and the Sangre de Cristos to the east. But at more than
seven thousand feet, it was no low-lying flatland. It was, in fact, the highest
alpine valley in the world. And it was the only place in the world that Beth
ever wanted to live. Having graduated from the local community college with
honors and saved enough additional money for her continuing education, she
planned to leave in the fall to begin her first year of veterinary school. She
would be gone as long as it took to earn her license, but her long-term plan
was to return as a more valuable person. Her skills would save the family
thousands of dollars every year, freeing up funds for their most important
task—providing a home and a hard day’s work to discarded men who needed the
peace the Blazing B had to offer.
     On this late May night, a light breeze stirred the alfalfa
growing in the pasturelands while the cattle grazed miles away. The herds
always spent their summers on public lands in the mountains while their winter
feed grew in the valley. They were watched over by a pool rider, a hired man
who was a bit like a cow’s version of a shepherd. He stayed with them through
the summer and would bring them home in the fall.
     With the winter calving and spring branding a distant
memory, the streams and irrigation wells amply supplied by good mountain
runoff, and the healthy alfalfa fields thickening with a June cutting in mind,
the mood at the Blazing B was peaceful.
     When Beth was a quarter mile beyond the barn, a bobbing
light drew her attention to the west side of the pasture, where ancient cottonwood
trees formed a barrier against seasonal winds and snows. She paused, her eyes
searching the darkness beyond this path that she could walk blindfolded. The
light rippled over cottonwood trunks, casting shadows that were
indistinguishable from the real thing.
     A man was muttering in a low voice, jabbing his light around
as if it were a stick. She couldn’t make out his words. Then the yellow beam
stilled low to the ground, and she heard a metallic thrust, the scraping ring
of a shovel’s blade being jammed into the dirt.
     Beth worried. It had to be Wally, but what was he doing out
at this hour, and at this place? The bunkhouse was two miles away, and the men
had curfews, not to mention strict rules about their access to horses and
vehicles.
     She left the path and approached the trees without a
misstep. The moonlight was enough to guide her over the uneven terrain.
     “Wally?”
     The cutting of the shovel ceased. “Who wants to know?” “It’s
Beth.”
     “Beth who?”
     “Beth Borzoi. Abel’s daughter. I’m the one who rides
Hastings.” “Well, sure! Right, right. Beth. I’m sorry you have to keep telling
me. You’re awfully nice about it.”
     The light that Wally had set on the ground rose and pointed
itself at her, as if to confirm her claims, then dropped to the saddle resting
against her thighs. Wally had been at the ranch for three years, since a stroke
left his body unaffected but struck his brain with a short-term memory
disorder. It was called anterograde amnesia, a forgetfulness of experiences but
not skills. He could work hard but couldn’t hold a job because he was always
forgetting where and when he was supposed to show up. Here at the ranch he
didn’t have to worry about those details. He had psychologists and strategies
to guide him through his days, a community of brothers who reminded him of
everything he really needed to know. Well, most things. He had been on more
than one occasion the butt of hurtful pranks orchestrated by the men who shared
the bunkhouse with him. It was both a curse and a blessing that he was able to
forget such incidents so easily.
     Beth was the only Beth at the Blazing B, and the only female
resident besides her mother, but these facts regularly eluded Wally. He never
forgot her father, though, and he knew the names of all the horses, so this was
how Beth had learned to keep putting herself back into the context of his life.
     “You’re working hard,” she said. “You know it’s after
eleven.” “Looking for my lockbox. I saw him take it. I followed him here just
an hour ago, but now it’s gone.”
     Sometimes it was money that had gone missing. Sometimes it
was a glove or a photograph, or a piece of cake from her mother’s dinner table
that was already in his belly. All the schedules and organizational systems in
the world were not enough to help Wally with this bizarre side effect of his
disorder: whenever a piece of his mind went missing, he would search for it by
digging. Dr. Roy Davis, Wally’s psychiatrist, had curtailed much of Wally’s
compulsive need to overturn the earth by having him perform many of the Blazing
B’s endless irrigation tasks. Even so, the ten square miles of ranch were
riddled with the chinks of Wally’s efforts to find what he had lost.
     “That must be really frustrating,” she said. “I hate it when
I lose my stuff.”
     “I didn’t lose it. A gray wolf ran off with it. I had it
safe in a secret spot, and he dug it up and carried off the box in his teeth.
Hauled it all the way up here and reburied it. Now tell me, what’s a wolf gonna
do with my legal tender? Buy himself a turkey leg down at the supermarket?”
     Wally must have kept a little cash in his box. She could
under- stand his frustration. But this claim stirred up disquiet at the back of
her mind. Dr. Roy would need to know if Wally was seeing things. First off,
gray wolves were hardly ever spotted in Colorado. They’d been run out of the
state before World War II by poachers and hos- tile ranchers, and their return
in recent years was little more than a rumor. Wally might have seen a coyote.
But for another thing, no wild animal dug up a man’s buried treasure and
relocated it. Except maybe a raccoon.
     A raccoon trying to run off with a heavy lockbox might actually
be entertaining.
     “Tell you what, Wally. If he’s buried it here we’ll have a
better chance of finding it in the morning. When the sun comes up, I’ll help
you. But they’ll be missing you at the bunkhouse about now. Let me take you
back so no one gets upset when they see you’re gone.” Jacob or Dr. Roy would do
bunk checks at midnight.
     “Upset? No one can be as upset as I am right now.” He thrust
the shovel into the soft dirt at his feet. “I saw the dog do it. I tracked him
all the way here, like he thought I wouldn’t see him under this full moon. Fool
dog—but who’d believe me? It’s like a freaky fairy tale, isn’t it? Well, I’d
have put that box in a local vault if I didn’t have to keep so many stinkin’
Web addresses and passwords and account numbers and security questions at my
fingertips.” He withdrew a small notebook from his hip pocket and waved the
pages around. It was one of the things he used to keep track of details. “Maybe
I’ll have to rethink that.”
     Beth’s hands had become sweaty and a little cramped under
the saddle’s weight. She used her right knee to balance the saddle and fix her
grip. The soft leather suddenly felt like heavy gold bricks out of someone
else’s bank vault.
     “Well, let’s go,” she said. “I’ve got my truck right on down
the lane.”
     “What do you have there?” Wally returned the notebook to his
pocket, hefted the shovel, and picked his way out of the under- brush, finding
his way by flashlight.
     “An old saddle. It’s been in the tack room for years.” She
expected Wally to forget the saddle just as quickly as he would for- get this
night’s adventure and her promise to help him dig in the morning.
     He lifted one of the fenders and stroked the silver with his
thumb. “Pretty thing. Probably worth something. Not as much as that box is
worth to me, though.”
     “We’ll find it,” Beth said.

     “You bet we will.” Wally fell into step beside her. “Thanks
for the ride back, Beth. You’re a good girl. You got your daddy in you.”

     With Jacob’s old saddle resting on a blanket in the bed of
her rusty white pickup, Beth followed an access road from the horse pasture by
her own home down into the heart of the Blazing B.
     The property’s second ranch house was located more strategically
to the cattle operation, and so it was known to all as the Hub. The Hub was a
practical bachelor pad. Outside, the branding pens and calving sheds and
squeeze chutes and cattle trucks filled up a dusty clearing around the house.
Inside, the carpets and old leather furniture, even when clean, smelled like
men who believed that a hard day’s work followed by a dead sleep—in any
location—was far more gratifying than a hot shower. The house was steeped in
the scent stains of sweat and hay, horses and manure, tanned leather and
barbecue smoke. The men who slept here lived like the bachelors they were. If
their daily labors weren’t enough to impress a woman, the cowboys couldn’t be
bothered with her.
     Dr. Roy Davis, known affectionately by all as Dr. Roy, was a
lifelong friend of Beth’s father. Years ago, after the death of Roy’s wife,
Abel and Roy merged their professional passions of ranching and psychiatry and
expanded the Blazing B’s purpose. It became an outreach to functional but
wounded men like Wally who needed a home and a job. Dr. Roy brought his teenage
son, Jacob, along. Now thirty-one, Jacob had never found reason to leave,
except for the years he’d spent away at college earning multiple degrees in agriculture
and animal management. Jacob had been the Blazing B’s general operations
manager for more than five years.
     Jacob and his father shared the Hub with Pastor Eric, who
was a divorced minister, and Emory, a therapist who was once a gang leader.
These men were the Borzois’ four full-time employees.
     The other men who lived at the Blazing B were called “associates.”
They occupied the bunkhouse, some for a few weeks and some for years. At
present there were six, including Wally.
     When Beth stopped her truck in front of the Hub’s porch,
Wally slipped off the seat of her cab, closed the rusty door, and went directly
around back to the bunkhouse. She pulled away and had reached the end of the
drive when a rut jarred the truck and rattled the shovel he’d left in the truck
bed.
     In spite of her hurry to take Jacob’s saddle to the people
who needed it, she put the truck in park, jumped out, and jogged the tool up to
the house. The porch light lit the squeaky wood steps, and she took them two at
a time. Jacob would see the tool in the morning when he came out to start up
his own truck and head out to what- ever project was on the schedule. She’d
phone him to make sure.
     She was tipping the handle into the corner where the porch
rail met the siding when the Hub’s front door opened and Jacob leaned out.
“Past your bedtime, isn’t it?”  he said,
but he was smiling at her. Over the years they had settled into a comfortable
big-brother- little-sister relationship, though Beth had never fully outgrown
her adolescent crush on him.
     “Found Wally digging up by the barn,” she said.
     Surprise pulled his dark brows together. “Now? Where is he?”
“Back in bed, I guess. He said he followed a wolf up to our place. You might
want Dr. Roy to look into that. Your dad should know if Wally’s . . . seeing
things.”
     Jacob nodded as he stepped out the door and leaned against
the house. He crossed his arms. “Coyote maybe?”
     “Try suggesting that to him. And when was the last time we
had a coyote down here? It’s been ages—not since Danny gave up his chicken
coop.”
     “I’ll mention that to Dad. It’s probably nothing. What had
you out at the barn at this hour? Horses okay?”
     “Fine.” Beth’s eyes swiveled down to her truck, to Jacob’s
saddle, both well beyond reach of the porch light. She tried to recall all her
justifications for taking the saddle, but in that moment all she could think
was that she should get his permission to do it. She’d known this man more than
half her life. He was kind. He was wise. He’d say yes. He’d want her to take
it.
     But she said, “I’m headed out to the Kandinskys’ place.
They’ve got a horse who injured his eye, and it’s pretty bad. They let it go
too long, you know, hoping it would correct itself, maybe wouldn’t need a big
vet bill.”
     “The Kandinskys have their own vet on the premises. Who
called you out?”
     “It’s not one of their horses, actually. It’s Phil’s.
Remember him?” “Your friend from high school?”
     “He’s been working there a year or so. They let him keep the
horse on the property. One of the perks.”
     “But he can’t use their vet?”
     Beth looked at her feet. “Phil’s family can’t afford their
vet. You know how that goes. We couldn’t afford him. His family doesn’t even
have pets, you know. They run a grocery store. The horse is his little sister’s
project. A 4H thing.”
     “Well, tell Phil I said he called the right gal for the
job.”
     “I don’t know, Jacob. It sounds really bad. These eye
things— the horse might need surgery.”
     She found it unusually difficult to look at him, though she
was sure he was studying her with a suspicious stare by now. But she couldn’t
look at the truck either. Her eyes couldn’t find an object to rest on.
     “All you can do is all you can do, Beth. That’ll be as true
after you’re licensed as it is now.”
     “But I want to do miracles,” she said.
     He chuckled at that, though she hadn’t been joking. “Don’t
we all.” He uncrossed his arms and put his hand on the doorknob, preparing to
go back inside. “I heard some big-shot Thoroughbred breeder is boarding some of
his studs there,” Jacob said. “Some friend of theirs passing through.”
     “I heard that too.”
     “Maybe that’ll be Phil’s miracle this time—an unexpected
guest, someone with the right know-how or the right resources who will come to
his horse’s rescue.”
     “Angels unaware,” Beth said. “Something like that. Night,
Beth.”
     Beth didn’t want him to go just yet. “Night.”
     She lingered at the door while it closed, hoping he might
intuit what she didn’t have the courage to say.

     When he didn’t, she committed to her original plan. She
descended the steps in a quiet rush, wanting to whisk the saddle away before he
could object to what he didn’t know. She wanted to be the one who did the good
works, who made the incredible rescue. She couldn’t help herself. It was her
father’s blood running through her heart.

     On the driveway, her smooth-soled boots skimmed the dirt,
whispering back to her truck.
     “It’s not your right to do it,” Jacob said. Beth gasped and
whirled at the sound of his voice, unexpected and loud and straight into her
ear, as if he’d been standing on her shoulder. “It’s not your gift to give.”
     But the ranch house door was shut tight under the cone of
the porch light, and the bright window revealed nothing inside but heavy
furniture and cluttered tabletops. At the back of the house, a different door
closed heavily. Jacob was headed out to the bunk- house to check on Wally
already.
     Beth let her captured breath leave her lungs. She looked
around for an explanation, because she didn’t want to accept that the words
might have been uttered by a guilty conscience.
     At the base of the porch steps, crouching in such darkness
that its black center sank into its surroundings, was the form of an unusually
large dog. Erect ears, broad head, slender body. A wolf. She had passed that
spot so closely seconds ago that she could have reached out and stroked its
neck.
     She took one step backward. Of course, her mind was dreaming
this up because Wally had suggested a wolf to her. If he hadn’t, she might have
said the silhouette had the outline of a snowman. An inverted snowman guarding
the house from her lies. In May.
     Beth stared at it for several seconds, oddly unable to
recall the landscape where she’d spent her entire life. She was distressed not
to be able to say from this distance and angle whether that was a shrub planted
there, or a fence post, or an old piece of equipment that hadn’t made it back
into the supply shed. When the shape of its edges seemed to shift and shudder without
actually moving at all, she decided that her eyes were being tricked by the
darkness.
     Convincing herself of this was almost as easy as justifying
her saddle theft.
     She turned away from the house and hurried onward, looking back
only once.

How My Phone Changed My Life

Okay, maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration. However, my new smart phone has made a huge difference in the way that I conduct the business end of my writing. Previously, I needed to find a computer to do all of my online promotions, which is fine when I'm at home. But I found that this summer when I was travelling, it was very difficult to do all the things I needed to do.

Then I got a new smart phone. (I bought a Samsung Galaxy SIII on the recommendation of my son-in-law and several people who worked at the store. I almost went with an iPhone, but I chose this one for its larger screen.) On our last trip I was able to check my emails on the road and keep up with all my correspondence in a timely fashion. There was no longer the stress of having to 'rush' through my online tasks while in the hotel room, either late at night or early in the morning.

Of course, maneuvering around on the smaller screen took some getting used to. Each online site also has its own set of differences. However, I'm now managing to do most things on my phone that I would normally do on a computer, except for actually posting on my blog like I am now. (I could probably do this, too, but typing on the screen isn't as convenient.)

I'm finding that the convenience isn't limited to traveling, however. I'm able to quickly check and eliminate emails, facebook notifications, etc. while waiting in a restaurant, at an appointment, or standing in line to pay for my groceries. I know what you're thinking... I'm becoming one of those people whose eyes are always focused on their device. I hope this isn't the case, since I find it kind of rude when people are constantly texting while trying to interact with a real human being. Trust me. When I'm having a conversation, I'm not trying to check emails at the same time!

What I am finding is that it is giving me more time to actually write when I sit down at my computer. Before, it would take my a minimum of an hour to go through all my emails, notifications, and do my online 'stuff'. Sometimes this would stretch into three hours or more. Now that time is literally cut in half and I can focus on more specific promotional tasks, or do what I really want to be doing, which is writing.

Technology has made such an impact on the way writers conduct themselves. I started my writing career with a pen and a notebook, graduating to a typewriter when I borrowed one from my mother. Getting my first computer back in the mid-nineties was a huge step forward, as was access to high speed internet for research and marketing. My new phone is just another step along the way in this ever evolving journey as an author.

What recent advancements have changed the way you do things?

Nike Does It Again! PERILOUS SHADOWS

Nike Chillemi has emerged as one of my favorite new authors with the release of her debut 'Sanctuary Point' series of murder mysteries set in the 1940s. I finished reading book number three in the series called PERILOUS SHADOWS, and it definitely lives up to the other two. You can also see my reviews of the first two books here.

BURNING HEARTS review
GOOD-BYE NOEL review

Before I get to the review itself, let me just say that these books are keepers. In other words, they are the kind of stories you may want to go back and read again. That's the mark of a really great read in my books!

PERILOUS SHADOWS - a review

Nike Chillemi has done it again in PERILOUS SHADOWS, the third book in her Sanctuary Point Series. This page turning ‘who-dunnit’ is another home-run for the self proclaimed ‘crime-fictionista’, with plenty of action, suspense, surprises, and quirky characters. The book follows the ‘leads’ of investigative reporter and broadcaster Argus Nye, whom we’ve met as an interesting, though minor, character in the first two installments of the series. This time, his talent for sniffing out a story is rivaled by an up and coming female colleague, Kiera Devane. When a body is found at the radio station where Argus works, he is assigned the story, but not before Kiera scoops him and writes her own story. The two decide to team up after some nasty run-ins with various suspects, and soon find that they are mutually interested in more than just the story. The series is set in the 1940s shortly after the end of World War Two, and the writer does a fantastic job keeping the setting, jargon, and over-all feel very authentic for the period. I’m loving this series, and was pleased to find out there is more to come. Stay tuned for more from this talented author. 

BUY it now! 

Newspaper link - Moose Jaw Times

The Moose Jaw Times Herald printed an interview with me earlier this week in their 'FYI' insert. The article talks about WIND OVER MARSHDALE and the similarities between the fictional town and my hometown. Go to PAGE 8 of the paper after checking out the link.

Great Five star review

I just had to share this wonderful five star review from author and reviewer Michelle Sutton. She calls WIND OVER MARSHDALE one of her favorites for the year.

Writing spurts - how WIND OVER MARSHDALE came to be

WIND OVER MARSHDALE came about in ‘spurts’. I started writing this story simultaneously with several other novels - at one point I was writing five different books at one time. Perhaps this one went through the most changes, and certainly was ‘shelved’ more often than the others. Three of those five went on to get published, and it was then that I could concentrate on making the final revisions to what I felt was my most poignant and perhaps controversial work yet.

The book does contain what some might consider ‘touchy’ subject matter; racism and spiritual warfare, among others. Racism is never pretty, but I’ve tried to portray it in an honest way. No matter how much we want to believe racial prejudice is dead, it is unfortunately very much alive. In WIND OVER MARSHDALE, a Cree man and his family move to a small prairie town. It is, in fact, the place of their ancestors, but despite modern sensibilities, many of the ‘white’ population can’t see past their own stereotypes. Added to the mix is a family of Chinese ancestry, whose ancestors arrived before many of the European pioneers, yet they too are still seen as ‘foreigners’. 

Another potential hotbed of discussion is the inclusion of various spiritual belief systems. The hero is caught between his Christian beliefs and the strong pull of his ancestral heritage as a Cree medicine man. There are many different views about where native spirituality fits into modern life, especially that of a practicing Christian, and the book does not try to address the issue in terms of what is ‘right and wrong’. Instead I focus on the individual struggles faced by the characters and let readers come to their own conclusions on the matter.

The pastor of the church also struggles with hidden addictions that eventually bring him to ruin. I wanted to show the frailty and humanity of even the most ‘upstanding’ and seemingly religious individual, highlighting the fact that, “man looks at the outward appearance but God looks at the heart”.

I find that I often like my current release best, and in this case, it’s true. This book is another complex look into the difference between the outward and the inner man. I had a lot of fun writing it since it includes so many interesting characters and situations. The town drunk, an aging gossip, a sexy cowboy, psychotic twins, a love triangle, the occult … this book has a bit of everything. The setting is based on my own hometown of Mossbank, and although the landscape and even some of the history are authentic, the characters are either from my imagination or a compilation of interesting people I’ve met in my travels around the small town Canada. Enjoy.

This article originally appeared on the Astraea Press blog and is will also featured in the Wordsmith Journal later this year.

Yvonne Wright Launches From Spice To Eternity

Tomorrow is the official book launch of Yvonne Wright's book FROM SPICE TO ETERNITY.  This is a super cool book that uses spices and cooking as an analogy for life. Each chapter ends with a recipe. I'm not much of a cook myself, but this sounds absolutely fascinating and I definitely intrigued. Visit her landing page tomorrow and get some cool free gifts, including one from me!  But first, let's get to know Yvonne just a bit better.

You like being called Yvonne Pat.  Any particular reason?

 My family call me Pat (or Patsy which I’m not fond of) so close friends who meet me through family adopt that name.  I use my given name Yvonne as the norm. However,  a hilarious situation revealed that I had developed a dual identity as one half of my acquaintances knew me by one name and the other by another name and there was a heated debate as to who was correct.  When I wrote the book I thought I’d better emphasize both names so that there would be no mistaking me.

Where were you born and where do you call home?

 I was born in the beautiful sunny isle of Jamaica in the West Indies and have lived in 20 year periods in Jamaica and the UK.  Currently I am in the  UK

How old were you when you started writing and what was it about?

 I can remember writing from very early childhood and it was always about love... love between persons,  love for animals, flowers or places which I dreamed up. I morphed into writing poems as I found those easier to compose.  I always said that one day I would write the plain unvarnished truth about my life.  My first book is not quite what I envisaged, but indeed it relates the truth of my life today.

What is the name of your book and if you had to sum it up in 30 words or so, what would you say?

 From Spice to Eternity: Discovering the Main Ingredient to a Life of Fulfillment and Purpose.   Slices of my life, in which I blend a variety of spicy flavours, ultimately discovering the main spice that has made the difference.  Using a description of a herb or spice as the theme of the stories, the underlying message is the love, security, strength, and other life coping support that is available in a relationship with the Lord Jesus Christ.  A recipe ends the chapter.

That’s a unique format. Where did you get the idea for this book?

 It had its genesis in a radio program that I hosted called The Spice of Life.  I’d start the program by naming a herb or spice for the day and ask my listeners to call in their favorite recipes using it. The other content to the program was a devotional message interspersed with music.   Several persons thought this would make interesting reading and suggested that I write a book.  When I wrote the book I changed from generic devotions to my life stories.

What part of this book did you enjoy writing the most and why?

 The life stories definitely.  It was fun to cast my mind back to periods of my life and try to capture the flavour of what was happening then.  There was a reason for using this format.  Coming from the Caribbean where Christianity and its practice is part of the fabric of life, I was distressed that specific laws here in the UK made it difficult for persons to share their faith in situations, for instance, in the workplace.  It was then, and is still my desire that this book will be given to those you want to share the gospel with  but find it hard for whatever reason.

What do you want readers to take away from your writing and this book in particular?

 I got really excited when it dawned on me that I was using a similar parabolic method in telling the gospel that Jesus did.  In several instances He used objects to tell His stories and this is what I have done here.  There are many persons who will never enter a church to listen to a gospel message, or allow you to talk openly with them about the love of God or preach the Bible.  Yet they face the same day to day challenges and situations that I have shared in the book and they need the same life changing solution. Prayerfully I ask that the Lord will use the non-threatening presentation of the gospel in my book as an entering wedge to reach these persons.

How does your faith play into your writing and do you have a favorite Bible verse?

 My faith will always be reflected in my writing as I want to work out my faith in evangelism to share the gospel of Jesus.  My favourite Bible verse is John 16:33.  In this world you will have tribulations, but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.  I can go confidently into any fray because I am on the winning side.

In your book you write about herbs and spices and share recipes using these.  Is cooking a passion and do you have a favorite recipe/food.

 I cannot say that cooking is a passion, as in everyday cookery.  What I love is preparing meals for occasions.  So when the family and friends are coming round, I get into high gear planning and preparing the menu.  My favourite dish/ recipe is the Jamaican national dish Ackee and Codfish which can be found on page 150 of the book.  I’d also like to add that this is the favourite recipe of the three times world record holder, Olympian athlete Usain Bolt, who is also from Jamaica.  He will tell you that he eats this and other Jamaican staples as they give him the stamina for his races.  Also of great note is that this dish is famous having been ranked second on the National Geographic list of best worldwide dishes.  Travel.nationalgeographic.com/travel/top-10/national-food-dishes  Readers can have this wonderful recipe from my book.

Do you have plans for a new book, a sequel, or will it be completely different?

 I would like to write some more and have ideas.  But I am committed to giving this book maximum exposure because of the purpose I believe God has for it.  I find that I am spending huge portions of my time marketing it rather than writing.  I do have outlines and some notes, so there could be something else soon.

Is there an Author that you would really like to meet?

I would love to meet Francine Rivers.  Her writings have inspired me immensely and in fact her book Redeeming Love played a huge part in the re-commitment of my life to the Lord.

Do you have any advice for other writers? 

I chose the traditional route to publish. At the time self-publishing was not in the ascendency. In two years there has been a shift and self-publishing is much more accepted today than it was then.  If you have something to say and are passionate about it, write it, publish it and who knows what will come of you and your writing.  Some amazing talented authors have been discovered who are now being chased by traditional publishers.  Go for it!

 Do you have a book trailer?

Yes.  It can be found here: http://tinyurl.com/bl9exgn

  Where can  readers hang out with you?

 My website and blog: www.spicetoeternity.co.uk

My Facebook page:  www.facebook.com/SpicetoEternity?v=wall&ref=pdem

Twitter:  http://twitter.com/#!/spicetoe ternity

Amazon: http://tinyurl.com/d3kaysj (Amazon.com) http://amzn.to/qnNITb (Amazon.co.uk)

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/8510473-from-spice-to-eternity

Thank you  Yvonne Pat - this was very cool! All the best in your launch tomorrow. 

YVONNE PAT WRIGHT - BIO

 Yvonne Pat Wright, in happy retirement, enjoys reading in several genres, but finds it hard to accept obscenity and accept it as standard author’s license.   A devout Christian she teaches in church and is a trained lay preacher.  Born in Kingston, Jamaica she has spent an equal number of years living alternatively in Jamaica and the United Kingdom. She’s won the hearts of daughters, grandsons and nieces and several ‘adopteds’ with her hearty home cooked meals, delicately spiced and served up with healthy doses of the value of Christian living. She is particularly pleased to have been ‘mother’ to a very famous singing family, the Jackson Five. From Spice to Eternity is her first book and a sequel is in progress.  She also intends to switch to fiction writing and the plot and outline are being developed.

website:  www.spicetoeternity.co.uk

email:    yvonnewright@spicetoeternity.co.uk

Facebook: www.facebook.com/SpicetoEternity?v=wall&ref=pdem

Available: Amazon:: http://amzn.to/qnNITb ; http://tinyurl.com/d3kaysj

Twitter: Twitter.com http://twitter.com/#!/spicetoeternity

Google+: http://tinyurl.com/c3jy2vq

YouTube: http://tinyurl.com/bl9exgn

Behind the scenes links this week

On Monday, I wrote a post on the Astraea Press Blog, giving some behind the scenes insights into the book WIND OVER MARSHDALE.

My regular 'Inscribe' post called 'The Reluctant Evangelist' talks about my insecurity and reservations when it comes to sharing the 'good news.'

My local paper the Tumbler Ridge News, re-posted an article about my new release.(At least I think its a re-post!) I was on holiday the first time I saw it in their on-line version, but it appeared in the physical paper this week. If you didn't get a chance to read it yet, I think you might enjoy it.

25 Years in the Rearview Mirror

A new anthology called 25 Years in the Rearview Mirror: 52 Authors Look Back just recently released. I’m one of the contributing authors and I'd like to tell you a bit about the book.

Inspired by Stacy Juba’s novel Twenty-Five Years Ago Today, this collection of poignant and uplifting essays is the perfect book to enjoy over your morning coffee. Much like a ‘Chicken Soup for the Soul’ book, the stories will warm your heart, raise your spirits and compel you to examine your own life. You can read about school days, quirky jobs, romance, raising a family, hard times, the writing journey, and find out what makes your favorite characters tick. Our goals for the book are to help readers to discover new authors for their ‘to-read’ list, and inspire them to reflect upon the small defining moments that have shaped their own lives. Publishing credits of contributing authors include New York Times and USA Today bestselling. You can buy it here.

More information about the book is at: http://stacyjuba.com/blog/25-

years-in-the-rearview-mirror-
52-authors-look-back/

I'd also like to invite you to join the ‘25 Years in the Rearview Mirror Reader Group’ on Yahoo, if you're interested. The group is just getting off the ground and has been a way for the authors to stay in touch up until this point, so right now you'll see some boring messages about the blog tour and getting the book launched on various sites (lol!)but we are transitioning it over to a reader/author discussion group over the next few weeks. We're going to start posting regular ‘Memory Sparker’ questions for readers and authors to reflect upon specific times in the past, and in addition to sharing their responses with the group, members can even paste responses into a file on their computer and use them to start compiling a memory journal that can eventually be shared with family members. From time-to-time, we'll also have discussions about ways to focus on positive thinking and a positive future, and we'll host some workshops on interesting topics. Whether you prefer to lurk or join the discussion, once you hit the ‘Join Group’ button, you'll have access to the Authors' Corner of the Yahoo group, where we have loads of downloadable freebies from the Rearview Mirror authors including stories, articles, excerpts, book blurbs, and more, and then you can control the volume of email that you receive from the group.

The direct link for the Yahoo group is: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/
25YearsRearviewMirror/?yguid=403568634 and please feel free to tell others about the group if it sounds up their alley.

Have a great day!

I Have Butterflies in My SBillyach. Say What?

Here's a funny (although it was disconcerting, too) story about the difference between ebooks and print books. A reader contacted me when he was reading WIND OVER MARSHDALE to let me know that he found two errors in the book. Both of them used the word 'sBillyach' instead of 'stomach', and as he surmised, it was because of a 'find and replace' I had done on the book.

Originally, one of the minor characters was named Tom Chang. My editor felt that this was too similar to the main character's name 'Thomas', (rightly so) so I changed the other name to Billy.

You guessed it. I didn't specify my search enough and every time the letters 'tom' appeared in the manuscript, it inserted 'Billy'.  Think of the possibilities: stomach, tomorrow, stomp... it seemed the list was endless! Naturally, another spell check was in order, and I was able to fix the problem. Or so I thought. I guess even after the most diligent checking, a couple of mistakes still slipped by.

Here is the good news. I contacted my publisher and she is able to fix it quite easily since the book is still only available in its e-version. This would not be possible with a print book. Either you'd be stuck with a run of books that had the error, or, even in the case of Print-On-Demand publishing, it would cost to get it fixed. (Probably at my expense since I did sign off on the galley.)

Lesson learned? Spell check twice.

Simple Advice from a Writing Mega Star

I recently came across an amazing video by the late, great, Maeve Binchy in which she gives authors three simple pieces of advice.

1. Write five pages everyday. She says you can't get up from that computer until you have at least five pages - no excuses! I LIKE this one an it seems very do-able.
2. Write as you would talk. She advises against a flowery style of writing that doesn't connect with real people. Keep it real!
3. Be a good listener. Listen to conversations wherever you go. You just never know when a snippet from a random conversation will inspire your next novel. similarly, listening helps in writing authentic sounding dialogue.

I have read and enjoyed many of Maeve's books over the years. I like her down to earth style and focus on interesting characters. You can view the entire three minute video here.