Then and Now…Complicated Times

This morning as I took some sun, a deer came quite close to me. They’re often passing through our yard, and sometimes I speak to them…usually from more of a distance. This time I was sitting out in the yard, and this little one surprised me.

She didn’t seem to mind my bad hair day, or that I was taking up space near where she wanted to eat.

So I carried on a conversation with her. “Hey, girl. Beautiful morning, isn’t it?”

A sidelight–I’ve been working on a novel, not my usual WWII kind, but a Civil War era story. And my heroine finds comfort during dire distress in the visitations of a doe.

This manuscript, begun probably a dozen or more years back, I’ve almost thrown out. More than once. But something about the characters has kept calling to me.

That means more research, so I’m poring over books about the war and the people of the time. Did you know that the venerable Sam Houston relinquished his Texas governorship when Texas joined the Confederacy and he was forced to sign the Articles of Confederation?

He did–and dismayed thousands of Texans who had voted to secede. He stood on his principles, but they felt they were principled, too. I’m trying to crawl inside their minds to see how their belief in each state having inalienable rights drove their decisions. Such a complicated time–many of the early failures in battle were due largely to politics.

Anyway, I’m learning a lot, which satisfies me. And then this deer shows up. Big black eyes,

dark button nose, and so patient. Willing to simply stand there and stare, listening to me chatter.

One thing I’ve been thinking: today’s evil and hatred loom so large. Seems as if the bottom’s fallen out of our society. Or falling. But I’m certain people felt the same way back in the early 1860’s.

And somehow, they managed to make it through. Most likely, there’s something to be gleaned here as we struggle with sickening news reports and seemingly hopeless conundrums.

A Fallen Sparrow

I just finished reading this novel, and if you want to get RIGHT INTO the heart of the Revolutionary War, this book will do the trick! What a tumultuous time in our nation’s history, full of intrigue and complicated choices. Lynn has a great eye for detail…I learned a lot.

A Fallen Sparrow By Lynne Basham Tagawa

Writing a story set during the American Revolution was a great adventure for me. I knew certain things—and I’m sure y’all do too—but there was so much I had yet to learn!

Book Cover

I loved learning about some of the people. Like Benjamin Rush. I knew he was a doctor, and a signer of the Declaration, but not much more than that. Turns out, he was a Christian and a very interesting man. 

Another fascinating man was Daniel Morgan, the rough-and-ready teamster turned general. I stumbled upon a letter he wrote to a friend. In it, he was making a theological point. I’m like, wait a minute, this guy’s faith is not in the bio I have. Secular writers don’t care about this stuff. So I included a quote from that letter somewhere at the top of a chapter—every chapter has a quote.

The battles were kind of interesting, but I had a harder time with all of that. I had to figure out who was where and when and so forth. Bernard Cornwell’s book Redcoat inspired me a little. He’s good with battle scenes. I loved finding out the little things, like the aurora borealis which weirdly was visible very far south during the war.

Characters were my biggest struggle. Some kind of wrote themselves. I liked writing Robert the British spy. But I had to work on the others. At first, Jonathan, my hero, was a big fat zero. Uninteresting. I thought, I need to make him interesting, so I gave him a secret. Something bad he had done. Ruth, my heroine, was a little easier, because she likes to write—just like me. 

Men like George Whitefield and Samuel Rutherford have no lines in the story, but their influence is critical. Americans in 1776 didn’t just engage in riots and killing for the mere sake of rebellion. They had ideals. They had to do it right. They had to do it according to law and honor and a sense of justice—and not just justice for themselves, but for all. They weren’t always successful, but they gave us a good start. I wanted to dive into what all of it meant.

I hope I was successful.

A Fallen Sparrow Summary:

Ruth Haynes uses the pen name Honorius when she writes for her father’s newspaper. Boston has changed beyond recognition, and her Loyalist views soon get her in trouble. With war looming, what will their family do?

Jonathan Russell hides a guilty secret. The Battle of Bunker’s Hill sweeps him and his Shenandoah Valley family into the war. The unthinkable happens, and he’s forced to deal with both his grief—and his guilt.

Lieutenant Robert Shirley is summoned by his godmother and introduced to the Earl of Dartmouth, who charges him to gather intelligence in Boston. He is horrified but must obey.

Gritty, realistic, and rich with scriptural truth, this story features Dr. Joseph Warren, Major John André, Henry Knox, and Lt. Col. Banastre Tarleton.

Excerpt:

Robert’s mind whirled. He was being ripped from his duty here with the Fifth Regiment and inserted into the melee of Boston political intrigue, a totally unknown world. The parlor itself seemed to waver. 

“But General Gage? Does he have his own sp—sources?” 

Dartmouth paused while the countess handed him another cup of tea. “General Gage uses his own judgment. We have given him considerable leeway in his command. After all, we are three thousand miles away. But consider this, lieutenant. It is clear the inhabitants of Boston hate the soldiers stationed there. How is Gage to gather intelligence? How is he to discover the thinking of the ordinary man? Worse, he will have difficulties discovering the plots of the rebels.”

Discovering the plots of the rebels. This was a serious task. He had only one more card to play, a weak one. “I have a cousin who might be willing to serve in this capacity.”

Lord Dartmouth studied him.

His godmother arched an eyebrow. “Nonsense. Lord Rawdon is too young.” Her voice dripped with what she would not say, that her grandson’s character was deficient. Robert’s cousin was a scapegrace and a follower of the rakehell Banastre Tarleton. Both had been behind him several years at both Harrow and Oxford, and they were notorious for bullying the youngest students. Rawdon’s father had washed his hands of him, and his uncle had purchased him a commission.

She was right. There was no escape. “My lord, I am honored to serve King and country.”

A little about Lynne:

Lynne Tagawa is a mom and a grandma to six. Coffee and chocolate, in that order. She loves to include gospel truth in her stories. She lives with her husband in Texas.

Sign up for her newsletter at www.lynnetagawa.com Twitter: @LynneTagawa

Buy link: https://amzn.to/3uO6Y0t Coming soon: audiobook!

Wooing Gertrude By Jodie Wolfe

Tell us a little bit about yourself.

Hi! I’m Jodie Wolfe. It’s great to be here. Thank you, Gail, for having me. I live in south central PA with my husband. This December we’ll celebrate our 36th anniversary. I have two sons and six grandchildren. I’ve always had an interest in writing since I was a little girl.

What genre do you write?

I write Christian historical romance. My stories usually revolve around a theme. Usually, it’s something either God is in the process of teaching me, or He’s recently taught me. 🙂 Most times I’m learning along with my characters.

What is your least favorite aspect of writing?

Editing and marketing. I’d rather be creating a story and interacting with my characters – going with them on their adventures and seeing where they lead.

How is faith interwoven in your books?

It’s an intrinsic part of each of my books. My characters are often struggling in their faith walk, but they’re striving to be better.

What things do you like to do outside of writing?

I enjoy walking, birdwatching, and spending time with my hero husband.

Did you always want to be a writer?

I did. Ever since I wrote my first poem and stories while in grade school, I dreamed about becoming a writer.

What’s the title of your new book, and is it part of a series?

My new book is Wooing Gertrude, and it’s book three in my Burrton Springs Brides Series. All this month, Amazon has a discount on the first book in the series, Taming Julia. It’s only $1.99 for the ebook.

Tell us about Gertrude’s story, please.

Enoch Valentine has given up finding peace for his past mistakes. He throws everything he has into being the new part-time deputy in Burrton Springs, Kansas while maintaining the foreman position at a local horse ranch. But when trouble stirs on the ranch, he questions whether he’s the right man for either job.

Peace has been elusive for most of Gertrude Miller’s life, especially under the oppressiveness of an overbearing mother. She takes matters into her own hands and sends for a potential husband, while also opening her own dress shop. Gertrude hopes to build a future where she’ll find peace and happiness.

Will either of them ever be able to find peace?

Sounds so interesting, and the cover really draws me in.

Where can readers find you online?

Website: https://www.jodiewolfe.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Jodie-Wolfe-553400191384913

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/jodie-wolfe

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/JodieAWolfe

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15220520.Jodie_Wolfe

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Jodie-Wolfe/e/B01EAWOHXO/ref=dp_byline_cont_ebooks_1

MeWe: https://mewe.com/jodiewolfe

LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/jodie-wolfe-3955b2bb/

Thank you for having me, Gail. I hope readers will enjoy Wooing Gertrude.

Grandma’s Cookie Jar

Often in memoir writing workshops, we focus on a person from our past. But an object from yesteryear can also bring up all sorts of memories. That’s true for me with this hen-and-chick ceramic piece I inherited–the only thing I have from her household. Not complaining, with my five aunts llterally fighting over the fruit jars in the basement,

Somehow, they missed this treasure…or failed to see its worth? I’m talking sentimental value, of course. How many hands reached inside this trusty hen for treats over the decades? And how could she possibly survive without a chip?

True, her paint has faded, but that’s to be expected. What intrigues me most about her is that eyebrow. Interesting how one little mark made by the painter can invoke emotions. Is this hen communicating with the chick one her back, or irritated by yet another human seeking a bit of sweetness?

As with the Mona Lisa, we’ll never know. But this little study reminds me of the literary device called SHOW DON’T TELL By the visuals around our character, or the smells, textures, and setting, we SHOW the hero/heroine’s reactions.

Quite the challenge–this skill probably took me the most time to learn, but what a difference it’s made in my writing.

Changes, Edits, and Keeping on

This photo reveals a sign of change. We all know what happens next…we wake up to hoards of brilliant leaves piling up on our lawns. And before we know it, yet another seasonal change lies just around the corner.

All of a sudden, it seems, vibrant summer green gives way to golden hues.

We begin to notice these leaves everywhere around our yard.

They get caught in cobwebs between flower boxes and porch floor, they cling to the edging against our house’s outer walls. This one’s a bit more interesting, with its pinkish tones.

The changing of the seasons reminds us of other alterations, some not so pleasant, some downright painful and ugly. As a friend who has battled fibromalgia’s confusing pain for over twenty years said recently, “I’ve had to learn to adapt…it’s the only way through.”

This summer, I’ve been busy editing a new set of short stories for our 2024 Hill Country Christmas Collection and also editing a manuscript that has hung around for a long, long time. The characters really want to come to life–how can I throw them out, even though my writing was pretty pathetic way back when I started?

Ah…that’s life, decisions upon decisions, and continuous change.

Nothing to do but keep plunging ahead, right? I’d love to hear about your own changes these past months, if you care to share.

The Primrose Path

Shakespeare coined the phrase “leading someone down the primrose path” in Hamlet. We’ve always thought of this as a “rosy” track leading to destruction. This familiar concept has come to mind recently as our cheery primroses perk up garden paths.

They look so bright and inviting…how could they possibly lead to dire consequences? That’s just the point. In our garden, the path leads only to more flowers–tall yellow daisies, Shastas, delphinium, impatiens, perky petunias, flowering chives, the list continues.

But in Shakespeare’s meaning, a primrose path deceives the traveler by looking harmless– “the easy way.” Instead, disaster lies hidden around the curves ahead and the individual suggesting this path has a nasty future in mind for listener.

Our phrase for the day! We can only wish the primroses bloomed all summer long.

Little Things

I don’t think I’ve ever noticed these fragile “caps” on new pine growth.

Have you?

All these years, the pine just outside our front door has kept growing, but I’ve not \

paused to notice these tiny caps made of something like onionskin.

What else haven’t I noticed? Most likely, a lot.

However, I’ve always appreciated the delicate bells on Lily of the Valley. So small, very invasive, but beautiful, imho–kind of like cardinals, a mere splash in a sea of springtime flowers, but deserving of notice.

Engaged in editing these days, both for my own work and some others’, I focus on what needs fixing. It’s great to work with authors willing to let go of their work and be open to suggestions–wanting to grow in our skills helps us so much!

And attention the the “little stuff” becomes an absolute requirement. Just this morning I spoke with a fellow Iowa author who “got a late start” like me. The learning curve seems insurmountable at times–but it did to me, too.

As usual, tales from the infamous stalls and starts in my “career” come in handy.

Nothing encourages us like stories. At least that’s how it is for me, and the stories that come to us at just the right time need not be remarkable to anyone else.

Beauty and Time

In terms of world history, forty-five years qualifies as hardly an eye-blink. True. But for a marriage, it’s a considerable amount of time.

This week, I became familiar with a renowned artist’s battle with disease and pain. Who knew that Pierre-Auguste Renoir, the creator of such fabulous paintings, suffered so? Click here to read more on a modern artist’s blog:

https://www.valeriecollymore.com/blog/147935/renoir-the-pain-passes-but-the-beauty-remains

Renoir’s philosophy provides something to ponder:

“The pain passes but the beauty remains.”

Can anyone NOT relate? Our lives overflow with ups and downs–we ride waves of joy and sorrow, productivity and pain. At times, we collapse on the shore.

But when we open our eyes, beauty remains. Perhaps this bit of loveliness covers only a small space, but to us, means everything. On the road Lance and I travel, this “awakening to beauty” has been continual, starting with creating a home. Lance caught this robin in the act . . . so serious, so intent on its task.

From that first “I do,” we’ve employed lots of other powerful verbs. Bear with me, please, I’m in editing mode right now, and strong verbs make all the difference!

We’ve had to say, “I will,” and once in a while, delve deep to utter, “I won’t.” Tough for both sides.

The idea being to always return to that original “I do”–I DO take you to be my “wedded husband/wife.” I know, I know, this ages us.

Of course, this vow entailed far more than we ever could have imagined. but through umpteen moves, (one trans-Atlantic) job changes, child-rearing, overseas deployments, personal struggles, successes and losses, this I DO has grounded us.

Simply said, today we celebrate our fortitude, determination, tenacity, and when need be, courage to listen to our hearts and stand up for ourselves. We’re eating lunch at a local restaurant today and paying a visit to a gardening center and a thrift store–that’s our celebratory plan.

Doesn’t take much to satisfy us, eh? Well, consider our age and temperaments. (:

Behold this thoughtful anniversary bouquet, replete with yellow–such a cheerful, forward-looking color. Sunflowers, roses, daisies . . . I embrace each bloom. As a personal mantra, acknowledging pain (as Renoir did) but focusing on the beauty makes quite practical sense.

Well-made Plans

The rest of this geranium looks like it’s on its last leg, BUT one little stem greeted us with GREEN LEAVES back here in Iowa. Such a cheerful sight!

A small sign, but so powerful! There’s still life in this plant after wintering over without any nurturing whatsoever.

Of course, that’s what geraniums do, right? But still, these tiny green leaves encouraged me. Sometimes we may feel downhearted, discouraged, dilapidated, spent due to health challenges or what life in general throws at us. About a year ago, I was undergoing surgery for a broken femur. An undesirable circumstance, to say the least.

Then comes that BUT.

The other day I re-discovered one of Robert Burns’ poems written in the 1700’s. The well-made plans of mice and men…”gang aft agley,” and it’s only human to wonder about and ponder our troubles.

Often, things simply don’t turn out as we planned. That’s why we’re instructed to cast all sorts of catastrophes in the way of our fictional characters.

And it’s why signs like a few vital leaves can mean so much!

To a Mouse by ROBERT BURNS –Scottish poet

On Turning her up in her Nest, with the Plough, November 1785.

Wee, sleeket, cowran, tim’rous beastie,

O, what a panic’s in thy breastie!

Thou need na start awa sae hasty,

          Wi’ bickerin brattle!

I wad be laith to rin an’ chase thee

          Wi’ murd’ring pattle!

I’m truly sorry Man’s dominion

Has broken Nature’s social union,

An’ justifies that ill opinion,

          Which makes thee startle,

At me, thy poor, earth-born companion,

          An’ fellow-mortal!

I doubt na, whyles, but thou may thieve;

What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!

A daimen-icker in a thrave

          ’S a sma’ request:

I’ll get a blessin wi’ the lave,

          An’ never miss ’t!

Thy wee-bit housie, too, in ruin!

It’s silly wa’s the win’s are strewin!

An’ naething, now, to big a new ane,

          O’ foggage green!

An’ bleak December’s winds ensuin,

          Baith snell an’ keen!

Thou saw the fields laid bare an’ waste,

An’ weary Winter comin fast,

An’ cozie here, beneath the blast,

          Thou thought to dwell,

Till crash! the cruel coulter past

          Out thro’ thy cell.

That wee-bit heap o’ leaves an’ stibble

Has cost thee monie a weary nibble!

Now thou’s turn’d out, for a’ thy trouble,

          But house or hald,

To thole the Winter’s sleety dribble,

          An’ cranreuch cauld!

But Mousie, thou art no thy-lane,

In proving foresight may be vain:

The best laid schemes o’ Mice an’ Men

          Gang aft agley,

An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain,

          For promis’d joy!

Still, thou art blest, compar’d wi’ me!

The present only toucheth thee:

But Och! I backward cast my e’e,

          On prospects drear!

An’ forward tho’ I canna see,

          I guess an’ fear!

Books, Books, Books

Having a box of brand new books arrive in the mail always perks me up.

This means the weeks and months of laboring over a story has come to a conclusion. But the real satisfaction has only begun!

This time, there’s a unique feel, because this release is my very first cozy mystery. As it makes its debut, I hope readers will cheer for my characters as they strive to solve the death of a church member right in the basement kitchen.

How awful!

My challenge, besides learning the ins and outs of cozies, was to step inside Madge and Bill’s heads as they tackled this intrigue. The local sheriff carried out his investigation, of course, but seemed to be getting nowhere.

Madge, always curious anyway, received even more motivation from her status as a suspect in the murder, along with their new young pastor. What a conundrum, to suddenly be fingerprinted and questioned–something neither of them would ever have imagined.

My first box of books came a couple of days ago, and yesterday my first sale occurred. Ta DA!

This Saturday, I’ll be doing local book signings, hoping for more readers to descend and be excited about this cover and the contents.

One thing’s for sure. This process never gets old.