I began this blog years ago with the hope that my brief thoughts on writing would encourage writers and aspiring writers. That desire to uplift writers now includes a YouTube channel entitled, Author Talk ~ With Deborah Edmisten.

When I began writing, I was alone in that process and didn’t end up having a support group of other writers around me for quite some time. My hope is that through content like author interviews, book discussions, and online writing workshops, writers will be encouraged and bolstered in their dream to create with words.

If that type of content interests you, I’d love if you’d subscribe to Author Talk ~ With Deborah Edmisten. My first interview with author, Jane Biehl, PhD, was incredibly informative and inspiring! I’m excited to see what the future holds for this fledgling YouTube channel, so stay tuned! 😀

Subscribe to Author Talk – With Deborah Edmisten: https://www.youtube.com/@AuthorDeborahEdmisten

When I was ten-years-old, my family moved from Akron, Ohio, to the small town of Canal Fulton, Ohio. With its delightful brick roads, its charming downtown, and lovely people, it was a special place to grow up. Most especially, the historic Canal Fulton Public Library became a sanctuary and place of wonder for me. I had fallen in love with books from the time I was able to sound out my first word, but the magical Canal Fulton Public Library cemented that love and caused it to flourish. For that reason and many others, Canal Fulton will always hold a very special place in my heart.

When I received an invitation to participate in an event in Canal Fulton that will feature artists, authors, and creatives of all sorts, it was not only a thrill – it was a full circle moment for me. So, on August 9th, I will be going home in every sense of the word.

If you’re free on Saturday, August 9th, I hope you’ll come out to Create On The Canal: An Art Festival. If you’re there that day, please stop by my author booth near The Historic Pink House to say hi. 👋🏻 I’d love to talk with you!

Create On The Canal: An Art Festival will be fun for the entire family – and most importantly, it will be an event that celebrates the wonder and joy of creativity!

In this third installment of the Miniature Murder series, the book club ladies are investigating another cold case. Enjoy the adventure as the group encounters chaos and confusion before the shocking revelation that wraps up the case!

In the third book of The Miniature Murder series, Lexi and her book club are summoned to help a couple who’ve found a diorama placed in their home under mysterious circumstances. The miniature depicts a man being murdered in a patch of woods that seems oddly familiar to the couple.

Tension builds as clue after clue results in confusion and chaos until the unbelievable truth is finally revealed about The Dark Woods Miniature Murder.

Available on Amazon: The Dark Woods Miniature Murder

Today, I received a t-shirt I recently ordered from a member of a local book club. I’d spoken on one of my novels at her book club last September, and when I saw that she and her daughter were making t-shirts to promote understanding of autism in celebration of April’s Autism Acceptance Month, I ordered one right away. I’m excited to wear this shirt to advance acceptance for those who are autistic.

My middle-grade children’s book, A Nose Apart: The Fourth Adventure, has a main character who is autistic. For very personal reasons, it was important to me to bring awareness to the subject of autism through writing this story. Every person should be included, understood, and loved, but that is often not the case for those who are autistic. My hope and prayer is that awareness, understanding, and acceptance for those who are autistic will continue to grow in the years ahead. Let’s all do our part by promoting understanding in ways that are available to us – we should consider it a privilege to advocate for these precious souls. 

A Nose Apart: The Fourth Adventure on Amazon

The day after Christmas, I took my grandson, my daughter, my son-in-law, and a friend, to see the Christmas lights at Stan Hywet Hall and Gardens in Akron, Ohio. The home, now a museum and tourist destination, was originally owned by F.A. Seiberling, the founder of the Goodyear Tire and Rubber Company. Every year, the home is decorated with approximately 1.5 million lights. It’s truly magical. I never get over the wonder and beauty of all those lights shining in the darkness.

To be a writer is to be someone who does something magical. With vivid descriptions, writers transport readers out of their reality to other places and times – with words, they cause them to feel emotions they’ve never before experienced – with apt portrayals, writers introduce readers to people they would never have met otherwise. What writers do is absolutely magical. As magical as Christmas lights shining gloriously in the dark of a winter night.

Roses in full bud during November are improbable, yet this is a picture of roses in our yard last month. To write a book is the dream of many people, yet they feel it’s improbable. Impossible even.

At just shy of sixty, I know that improbable dream is not so improbable after all. I’ve written fifteen books, with a sixteenth about to be released. Despite the fact that I didn’t begin writing in earnest until my early forties. Through my local writers group and participation in various author events, I’ve met a multitude of writers who never thought they’d write a single page, let alone a book. Yet, they did. Some have written many books. One of the authors I met was only ten. Another released his first book in his eighties.

Don’t let the thought of improbability stop you. Write. You’ll be so glad you did. Your dream may be an improbable dream, but just look at those November roses. 😉

As a writer, have you ever felt like an imposter? Like you’re wearing a costume, pretending to be someone you’re not? Acting like a legitimate writer while feeling deep down you’re the furthest thing from that? To put it in the modern vernacular – do you ever feel like you’re posing? There’s a term for that – it’s called Imposter Syndrome.

I’ve frequently wrestled with Imposter Syndrome, and I don’t often come out the victor in those particular wrestling matches. But with increasing frequency, I’m beginning to win the battle against the dreaded Imposter Syndrome.

I’m not winning the battle against it because I’ve signed a traditional publishing contract – or because I sell massive amounts of books. I’m winning against it because I love to write, and because the books I’ve written have entertained and caused a small group of readers to experience moments of joy. They’ve caused them to experience moments of introspection. They’ve supplied moments where those readers have considered the life conditions of their fellow human beings and have wanted to make things better for them.

I’ve come to understand and truly believe that if a person loves to write and someone enjoys their writing – no matter if it’s one person or one million people – then that writer is the furthest thing from an imposter. They’re genuine. And there’s no better feeling in the world than knowing you’re genuine.

This coming Saturday, August 17th, I’ll be participating in a local author fair at the Canal Fulton Public Library in Canal Fulton, Ohio. From ages 10-18, I lived in Canal Fulton, and I spent hours upon hours in this beautiful, historic library. This library shaped my dream of becoming a writer. That I’m going to be part of a local author fair in this library I’ve loved since childhood is simply surreal.

To be a writer, and to see what I’ve written in book form, has been a dream come true for me. To now participate in a local author fair at this library I cherish so deeply is simply amazing. We need dreams. They fuel growth. I’m so blessed to have realized one of my dreams. I’m fully aware that there were many moments along the way that could have derailed this dream from becoming reality, yet it did. To God be the glory!

I recently posted this picture on Facebook/Instagram of the 108-year-old window in the dining room of our century home.

This glorious view of pink blooms filling the window is mine for a precious few weeks in late April every year. This view fills me with intense joy. The kind of joy that can’t be defined with words, but joy that my soul can interpret, subsequently filling me with bliss and a profound sense of beauty.

That joy – that sense of beauty – is fuel to the soul of a writer. It becomes the key that unlocks words crying out to be written and releases stories that have been held too long within the confines of our own minds.

So, today, fill your soul with as much joy and beauty as you possibly can, and be assured, at some point, that joy and beauty will flow from you and onto the page.

My sci-fi suspense novel, Sea of Red, is officially available on Amazon as of today!

This novel took me longer to complete than my other books took me to finish. I began working on it Autumn 2021 but was unable to pick it up again until Summer 2022 due to a period of profound sleep deprivation and debilitating anxiety that left me unable to function normally for over six months.

To see this novel now complete and finally available to readers has left me with a deep sense of gratitude for all those who supported me during that dark season, and to the Lord who sustained me through it, and taught me so much because of it. Dark days are indeed dark, but they are certainly not irredeemable.

I hope you enjoy Sea of Red!

Link to Amazon: Sea of Red

Cover Design by Conrad Edmisten

This picture was taken of myself and author, Dawn Dagger, on March 23rd in Massillon, Ohio, at the Massillon Public Library’s Spring Author Fair. I love this picture because it reminds me how blessed I am to be surrounded by such an amazing writing community.

Dawn was a featured author at the Spring Fair as well, yet she stepped away from her table to stop by mine. She offers me kindness, support, and encouragement every time I see her. Dawn is a tireless cheerleader of other writers. She’s a gift. As are many individuals in my writing community. My friend and author, Cat Russell, and her husband, Doug, made a special trip out to the author fair to say hello and to support me and other writers participating in the event. Roger Gordon and David Balog, two friends from my local writers group who were also a part of the Fair, each popped by to say hello. I could list countless names of fellow creatives who have supported me and many others, but cannot because of the space limitation here.

Artists of any kind often get the bad rap of being competitive and unsupportive of other artists, but in my experience, I have found that rap to be unequivocally undeserved. I am continually offered friendship, support, and tangible help from my writing circle. I fully realize that I am blessed beyond measure to have this incredibly wonderful community in my life!

While recently going through a box of old pictures, I found this wonderful photo of my grandparents, taken on their wedding day in 1926, in the small village of Szakadat, Hungary. It immediately filled me with a sense of joy to see my grandparents when they were young and just starting their lives together, rather than the elderly couple I had only known. For me, it was an entirely different perspective of them as individuals and as a couple.

So much of writing is about perspective – and continually shifting it. We want readers to experience our characters from varying viewpoints as those characters struggle with both internal and external events. Was it a childhood trauma that motivated a particular character to use their words like a sword, or was it because they were exhausted from dealing with a narcissistic boss? Did that person run away to find themselves or because the pressure of life was too great? In either situation, it could be one or both depending on your perspective of the character revealed by the words of the writer. Perspective is essential for readers in order for them to understand the ultimate whole of a character and the motivations that drive their life stories.

Kind of like seeing your grandparents for the whole of who they were – both the young, adventurous newlyweds as well as the elderly, Lawrence Welk-watching couple you loved so dearly. They were one and the same – but it depended on your perspective. 😉

There are times in the life of a writer when they feel barren. Devoid of any inspiration or even a desire to write. Despite the despair we may feel when these times occur, these times are normal for every writer – for artists of all kinds.

In a strange way, we can learn to look at these times of barrenness as gifts. They force us to rest and to ponder – and eventually they lead to restoration and an abundance of gratitude when our ability to create is restored.

Photo by Charlie Edmisten

My husband and I recently visited Watkins Glen State Park in New York. We hiked a spectacular gorge trail in the park that boasted no less than twenty waterfalls! It was breathtaking, but what was even more breathtaking to me was a comment my husband made after taking the photo featured here. He said, “It looks like Middle Earth.”

What was breathtaking to me about my husband’s comment was that he had pictured in his mind what the fictional world of Middle Earth, created by author J.R.R. Tolkien, would look like. Words did that. Words in black ink on a white page. Talk about the power of words! It is truly astounding – breathtaking – that words have so much power when absorbed by the imagination. What a glory it is to have the privilege of being a writer – to offer words that open the imagination and create beautiful, amazing worlds in the minds of readers!

Photo by Charlie Edmisten

Last month, I released my latest middle-grade chapter book in the Nose Apart series. This book welcomes back the mysterious and curious little creature, Boba, for the third time.

The Nose Apart books deal with issues that children often encounter in their lives – the existence of a disability, racial tension and physical abuse. The presence of lovable Boba softens the difficulty of these topics and gives children guidance, comfort, and practical wisdom as they navigate these realities in either their lives, or the lives of their friends.

I hope you’ll check out A Nose Apart: The Third Adventure on Amazon for all the young readers in your lives!

P.S. Adults have been known to enjoy the Nose Apart books as well. 😉

Available on Amazon at: https://shorturl.at/dmpwS

Cover Art by Erin Mulligan

While riding my bike recently, I came upon this large tree which had been uprooted by strong winds. What struck me at this scene was that two significantly smaller trees were now supporting the larger fallen tree.

The thought came to me that writers are often a similar kind of help and support in the societies in which they live. Many have attempted to effect change in their countries and neighborhoods by calling their readers to consider weighty subjects. Charles Dickens was one such writer. He caused readers to grapple with the injustice of the debtors’ prison in Little Dorrit and the predatory English legal system of the 19th century in Bleak House.

In his own era, John Steinbeck confronted the plight of migrant farmworkers in The Grapes of Wrath, and Harper Lee exposed the horrors of racism in To Kill a Mockingbird. To write with the hope of effecting change is a solemn responsibility, and one that writer’s should approach with great care and gravity.

We’ve all heard the phrase, “Life isn’t all black and white.” The implication of this phrase is that there are certain situations in life that are nuanced, that there isn’t just one way of looking at them.

The same should be true of the characters we create. Our characters should not be simplistic or their actions predictable. They should sometimes surprise us with unexpected moral decisions. Their complexities should emerge in ways that cause our readers to ponder the complexities of their own inner lives. Let’s have the courage as writers to unearth that achingly beautiful and hallowed ground between the black and white.

Photo by Charlie Edmisten

This picture brings to mind the word renewal. After the barrenness of winter, spring has come. And with it – renewal.

Seasons of barrenness often occur in the life of a writer as well. Seasons when we struggle to find the right words. Seasons when there are no words at all. For myself, there was a season of intense anxiety and sleep deprivation last year that left me unable to function normally, let alone, write. But God, in his great mercy, restored me, and in time, granted the ability to write once more. It’s not a mercy I take lightly, and I praise the Lord daily for his grace. If you’re in the midst of a season where your words have been lost, take heart – a renewal will come in time.

Photo by Charlie Edmisten

My children were avid fans of the Land Before Time series when they were younger. As I’m four chapters into writing a sci-fi murder mystery, a line from one of the songs in the series keeps echoing through my mind: Beyond the mysterious beyond.

After a writer pens the first sentence of a novel-in-progress, they wonder some version of that question. What does lie beyond the mysterious beyond? What words will fill the next page and the page after that and the page after that? That sense of exploration is something that unites writers and those who delve into the unknowns of space. There is a passion in both for finding out what lies beyond the mysterious beyond – writer and astronaut alike will do whatever it takes to unearth the answer to that all-consuming question.

Photo by Charlie Edmisten

It’s almost time for the North Canton Public Library’s Local Author Fair! If you’re in the area on September 25th, stop at Price Park in North Canton, Ohio, anytime between 11:00-2:00 to check out the many local authors who will have books available from every genre under the sun! I will have historical fiction, tween and children’s fiction and faith-based fiction at my table. I’d love to see you there!

I vividly remember the feelings I experienced at the book fairs I attended in my younger years. To me, they were magical. I looked forward to them every single year. One of my fondest childhood memories is of the book fair that took place during my sixth grade year. It was then that I purchased Anne of Green Gables. It was a book that changed my life. In 2018, I finally got to go to Prince Edward Island, Canada – the place where Anne of Green Gables is set and where the author, L.M. Montgomery, was born and raised. It was a dream come true to see what my imagination had “seen” all along.

So, come out to the author fair if you can…you never know…you just might find a book that will change your life. 🙂

It’s 1892 in Lancashire, England and William Somerset, the 6th Earl of Devonton, and his sister, Lady Angelica, are about to receive important guests at their ancestral home, Chalkley House. For some unexplainable reason, a sense of foreboding falls over Lady Angelica from the moment their guests arrive. When murder eventually invades Chalkley House, Lady Angelica realizes her feelings of dread were an omen of things to come.

I released my first – and hopefully not last – British murder mystery this week. A Just Measure is set in Victorian-era England in one of the great aristocratic homes of bygone days. Though Chalkley House is fictional, I enjoyed every minute spent researching the homes of the English nobility that fill our minds with visions of lords, ladies, butlers and footmen. Immersing myself in the past in this way was a true labor of love, and I hope you sense that as you roam the halls and grounds of Chalkley House yourself. 🙂

Available on Amazon: https://amzn.to/3iPUErn

Cover Design by Charlie Edmisten

Cover Model: Lori Butler

Within the next week or two, I’ll be releasing my newest novel – a Victorian-era murder mystery set in Lancashire, England.

My oldest son is the one who encouraged me to write it. For the longest time, he’s been telling me I should write a mystery in the tradition of Agatha Christie, Dorothy Sayers & G.K. Chesterton. This book is my lowly but wholehearted attempt.

My friend, Tiwatha, also recently gave me a silver tea set which was the inspiration for part of the storyline. You’ll have to read the book to see how. 🙂

I’ve included the Prologue and Chapter One here to whet your appetite for more – at least I hope it whets your appetite for more. 🙂

Keep an eye out for the upcoming release of A Just Measure!

PROLOGUE

Lancashire, England

December 24, 1892

She stood at the window, unmoving.  She gazed through the small circle she’d created by scraping away the ice that had formed.  As far as the eye could see, there was snow.  It clung to the bare branches of the trees in the garden and cloaked the hedges with pristine beauty.  Like a glorious white carpet, it spread across the lawn into infinity.  Its beauty made the ache return.  The ache for what she would never have now.  She slowly raised her hand and pressed her palm against the glass.  

Cold.  So cold.  Like her heart.  

After several minutes, she turned from the window and stared at the silver tea set atop the small table situated between the two settees.  It gleamed as if it were brand new.  She’d made sure it looked perfect.  Now it was waiting.  Waiting for him to come and partake.  

She took a step away from the window and moved toward the table, the hem of her dress rustling across the floor as she went.  The sound was oddly comforting as she contemplated the unpleasantness that was to come.  

She hadn’t chosen this course.  It had been thrust upon her.  His actions had made it necessary.  When one steals something so precious, one must pay the price.  And he would pay.  He certainly would pay.  

CHAPTER ONE

Lancashire, England

October 15, 1892

She stood at the window, unmoving.  Her eyes hungrily scanned the landscape, amazed by what lay before her.  As far as the eye could see, trees blazed in brilliant autumnal color.  The ornamental garden and the valley beyond seemed to explode with the fiery beauty of reds, oranges, and yellows.  It was breathtaking.  As many times as she witnessed it, the wonder of the season was never lost on her.  Its beauty made her ache with a longing she couldn’t put a name to.  A something just out of reach.  

She leaned closer to the window, her heart beating with expectation as she watched for the first glimpse of the carriages.  The house was so quiet now, and she longed for conversation and the companionship of other people.  Her mind wandered back to the scene that had brought her to the point of such loneliness and she choked back the tears that threatened to emerge.  She couldn’t greet their guests with a face red and splotchy from crying.  It wouldn’t be dignified.  And she knew William expected dignity above all else.  Especially when they would be entertaining such important visitors.  

As if he had sensed her thoughts, William appeared in the doorway of the library.  “Are you ready, Angelica?  Our guests should be arriving momentarily.”  

She turned from the window to face her older brother.  He was impeccably dressed as always. Every hair in place, his collar crisp, his face a mask of aristocratic politeness.  “I am,” she said, drawing out the skirts of her emerald-green gown.  “Do you approve?” 

“It’s a fine dress,” he answered dismissively before walking across the room to join her at the window. 

“I’m so looking forward to this visit.  It will be especially delightful to have our guests over the Christmas holiday.” 

 “There’s not much to look forward to.  It’s business,” he said dryly.   

 “But it will be wonderful to have company in the house again.  We haven’t entertained anyone since mother and father –”

 “I know,” he said curtly, cutting her off. 

Angelica forced her pain back to its hidden place, knowing that her expressions of sorrow made him uncomfortable.  “Tell me more about our guests,” she said, changing the subject.  “You haven’t said much.  It will be helpful with conversation if I know more about their lives.” 

William sniffed.  “I don’t want you discussing politics,” he instructed, his words tinged with warning.  

An indignant flush rose in her cheeks.  “William, times are changing.  It’s not considered as impertinent as it once was for women to discuss politics.  With the rumblings for independence in India, we could have some very interesting conversations,” she said with a mischievous gleam in her eyes.    

“I forbid it,” William said flatly. 

 Angelica laughed.  “Forbid it if you will, but if politics are brought up, it would be impolite for me not to respond.” 

 “You’ll embarrass yourself.”  

“You would find it more embarrassing if I couldn’t intelligently participate in conversation because of ignorance about the issues.  Our ancestors haven’t exactly been known for silence in regard to political matters,” she said, her gaze shifting to the portrait of the notoriously volatile 3^rd Earl of Devonton hanging above the immense fireplace. 

William’s gaze followed hers and he rolled his eyes expressively.  “Precisely.  All the more reason to remain silent.” 

At the sudden neigh of horses, their eyes moved back to the window.  Two elegant carriages were slowly making their way up the long drive, the sound of horses’ hooves unmistakable.  Seconds later, a discreet cough sounded in the doorway.  William turned at the sound as Angelica craned her neck to get a better view of the carriages.  

“My lord, your guests are nearing,” the butler, Mr. Drake, announced. 

“Thank you, Drake.  We’ll be in the front hall momentarily,” William responded. 

“Shall we?” he asked, offering Angelica his arm. 

“We shall,” she said, taking her brother’s arm with a smile.  

They crossed the floor of the stately library arm-in-arm and exited into the long corridor that led to the front hall.  The sound of their heels echoed off the marble floor as they came to a halt in the expansive entry hall of their ancestral home. Everywhere one looked, their family history was on tasteful but notable display.  The large porcelain vases brought to England from China by the 4^th Earl of Devonton sat atop regal pedestals situated throughout the hall, and the tapestries obtained in Constantinople during the travels of the 2^nd Earl of Devonton hung in full splendor on the pristine white walls.  

Portraits of their many ancestors were in clear view at the top of the majestic staircase that swept in splendor to the second floor.  Without a word uttered, every guest who walked through the immense double doors was immediately impacted by the history and nobility of the house and its inhabitants.  

William and Angelica waited quietly as the servants lined up and Drake stood at the ready to open the doors to their guests.  Angelica’s heart was pounding in anticipation.  The knowledge that their guests would be staying for several months filled her with exhilaration.  She knew William would find every opportunity to escape their company, but her heart soared at the prospect.  So many lonely days and nights had passed since the loss of their parents two years earlier.  She had been at the point of despair countless times, having no one with which to share her sorrow.  William was as closed to her grief as he was to his own, which left her to mourn the unspeakable tragedy of their parents’ deaths alone.  

Angelica shivered with excitement as she heard the horses come to a halt.  William looked down at her and tightened his grip on her arm for the briefest of moments.  Intending to steady my eagerness, no doubt, she thought.  She took a deep breath and stood to her fullest height as Drake dramatically swept open the doors to admit their guests.  The new arrivals made their way up the broad stone steps until they found themselves standing in the magnificent front hall of Chalkley House. 

Drake began the announcements in a deep baritone.  “The Earl and Countess of Montgomery.” 

William and Angelica stepped forward to greet them.  “Delighted to see you again and relieved that you made it safely here with no hindrances.  We look forward to your visit.  My sister, Lady Angelica,” William said, nodding in her direction.  

“I am so pleased to make your acquaintance,” Angelica said with a bright smile as she extended her hand to both Lord and Lady Montgomery.  After exchanging pleasantries with the obviously amiable middle-aged couple, Drake’s voice rang out again.  

“Mr. James Whitehead.”  

Lord and Lady Montgomery stepped aside as the family solicitor strode forward and exuberantly shook William’s hand.  Angelica heard his whisper in William’s ear as the lawyer leaned close to her brother.  “If we can pull this off, you will become even more fabulously wealthy than you already are.”  

Angelica saw the sneer on Whitehead’s face as he unclasped William’s hand and took a step back.  She felt a chill go through her at the nastiness of his expression.  She glanced up, searching William’s inscrutable face as Whitehead removed his top hat and handed it to the waiting footman.  As he was helped out of his coat, Angelica tried to shake off the feeling of unease.  She looked toward the doors, awaiting the appearance of their final guest. 

An Indian servant appeared at the top of the steps, carrying a man in his arms.  Drake’s voice boomed out, filling the room.  “Mr. Gaurav Bahadur.” 

The servant kept his turbaned head bent and his eyes downcast as he slowly approached William and Angelica.  Angelica’s breath caught as the man in his arms trained his gaze upon them, his lips turned up in a gentle smile.  His honey-brown skin seemed to glow, and the gold thread woven into his elegant Sherwani glimmered in the afternoon sunlight filtering through the tall windows of the front hall.   Why isn’t he walking?  Why is his servant carrying him? she wondered, barely able to contain her curiosity. 

Angelica smiled in return and the man fixed his dark eyes on her, nodding a greeting.  A warm kindness emanated from him, pulling her into its orb.  She didn’t know why, but she had the impression one would always be safe with him.  She looked up at William, expecting him to already be extending his hand in greeting.  But what she saw in his eyes beneath the veneer of civility sent a thunderbolt of dread through her body and froze her smile in place.  

Knowing when to stop is a gift. When to stop eating. When to stop spending. Knowing when to stop saying yes…or no. When to stop participating in an unhealthy situation. When to stop closing ourselves off to love. There is wisdom to stopping in so many situations.

The same wisdom about stopping applies to our writing as well. Writers are often tempted to wax eloquent with a multitude of words when a simple description would be far more effective. Readers will often opt for a story with well-chosen words and succinct descriptions over one that is overtold. There’s no magic formula to this – sometimes a wordy and lengthy description is called for – but we do well to frequently step back and consider whether it’s time to apply the wisdom of “stopping” to our writing.

My new middle-grade children’s book, A Nose Apart, is now available on Amazon! The main character of this story is a tiny and mischievous creature named Boba. Boba loves to eavesdrop on the humans who walk the trails of the nature preserve where she lives, but she ends up getting herself into a world of trouble one day when she takes her eavesdropping just a little too far. That’s where the adventure begins!

The book is primarily geared for children ages 8-12, but it also works great for reading aloud to younger children. Both adults and children alike will be encouraged by the themes of compassion, friendship and a celebration of the things that make each of us unique.

Fun fact…I got the idea for this story during my many bike rides on the nature trails near our home. As I passed by people on my bike, I would often overhear snippets of conversation. Those snippets and constantly seeing little chipmunks gave birth to the idea of a tiny creature who just couldn’t resist eavesdropping on humans. 🙂

I hope you enjoy A Nose Apart!

Available on Amazon: https://amzn.to/3bM417f

The cover art for A Nose Apart was done by the amazingly talented Erin Mulligan! If you want to enjoy more of Erin’s wonderfully unique artwork, you’ll find her on Facebook at Erin Mulligan Fine Art & on Instagram @etmulligan.

We just exited 2020, so you may have wondered if I was writing about cash from the government when you saw the title of this post. 🙂

However, I’m thinking about a different kind of stimulus – I’m thinking about the things that supply stimulus to our imaginations. Like this image my husband recently captured at one of our favorite state parks. The opening through the trees in this picture prompted something in my imagination. I envisioned a young woman gazing out of a frosty window during a snowstorm. I saw her as emotionless yet furious. Her heart ice cold but bent on revenge.

Because of the photo above, my imagination was stimulated and the opening to a new novel was born. The imagination is a mysterious and glorious gift. It needs only the right stimulus for new and wondrous worlds to emerge! 

PROLOGUE

December 24, 1892

            She stood at the window, unmoving.  She gazed through the small circle she’d created by scraping away the ice that had formed.  As far as the eye could see, there was snow.  It clung to the bare branches of the trees in the garden and cloaked the hedges with its pristine beauty.  Like a glorious white carpet, it spread across the lawn into infinity.  Its beauty made the ache return.  The ache for what she would never have now.  She slowly raised her hand and pressed her palm against the glass.  Cold.  So cold.  Like her heart.  

            After several minutes, she turned from the window and stared at the silver tea set atop the small table situated between the two settees.  It gleamed as if it were brand new.  She’d made sure that it looked perfect.  Now it was waiting.  Waiting for him to come and partake.  

            She took a step away from the window and moved toward the table, the hem of her skirts rustling across the wood floor as she went.  The sound was oddly comforting as she contemplated the unpleasantness that was to come.  

            She hadn’t chosen this course.  It had been thrust upon her.  His actions had made it necessary.  When one steals something so precious, one must pay the price.  And he would pay.  He certainly would pay.  

Photo by Charlie Edmisten

I seem to have a theme going with using my husband’s nature pictures with my posts. 🙂 For good reason, I think…he’s an amazing photographer! He captured this image of a Praying Mantis at a beautiful state park near our home. The way it’s looking at the camera seems almost fierce. As if it’s gazing at you with a challenge in its eyes. Watching you.

I found a parallel between its watching eyes and the ever-watching eyes of editors and beta readers. The individuals who constantly prod us to put in the difficult work of making our manuscript as perfect as it humanly can be. The ones who charge us to comb the same work again and again for mistakes. The person who challenges us to be more succinct. To plumb the depths of our creativity for a better way to word something. Who forces us to rethink the minutia of plotting. We may not enjoy the ever-watching eyes of editors and beta readers en-process, but in the end, we’re so thankful for the unique gifts they bring to the process. We come to truly value those ever-watching eyes for what they mean in the production of a polished and professional manuscript.

Photo by Charlie Edmisten

A few weeks ago, my husband took this exquisite photograph in a flower garden in one of our favorite state parks. The thing that immediately struck me about this image was the vibrancy of the colors. The green, the orange, the yellow, the black. Even the white in the background. All vivid. Vibrant. Gorgeous.

It made me think about descriptive words and the vibrancy they bring to our writing. Searching for the words and phrases that will add color and texture to our writing can be an agonizing process. Yet, so worth it when we pinpoint that treasure. A burnished sunset. A soul-deep agony. A split-second decision that lands us on the precipice of Hades. An open wound that bled repentance. An ice-cold stare. A tsunami of emotion. These glorious descriptions cause our words to pulsate with life. They are the color we search for as if for gold.

Photos by Charlie Edmisten

I ride my bike between 6-8 miles most mornings. And most mornings, I pass this amazing tree on the banks of a stream. The thing I love most about this tree is the root system. The roots stretch out for yards in each direction, supporting and holding up the tree. It moves me every time I see it.

And it always makes me think about the characters in our books being the “roots” that hold it up. Without solid, well-crafted characters to uphold the narrative, a storyline will fall flat. If readers aren’t able to connect with our characters, then we haven’t created a root system that will carry them through to the end of the book. Action is necessary to move a story along, but we must never forget that well-developed characters are what drive the action. They will always be the most fundamental part of the stories we tell. Without engaging characters, we would be left with no story to tell at all.

Photo by Charlie Edmisten

In The Red Dress, twenty-eight-year-old Arabella Edwards is alone, on furlough, and having random panic attacks for the first time in her life during the 2020 COVID-19 lockdown. To keep herself busy and her mind off everything going on in the world, she decides to clean the attic of her historic home built in 1845.

In the attic, she discovers an old chest she is drawn to for reasons she can’t understand. To her shock and surprise, she finds a beautiful but bloodstained dress from the 1800’s inside the timeworn chest. As the story unfolds, Arabella discovers many secrets about her home and the people who once lived there. With the help of her neighbors and her family, Arabella spends the next two months unraveling the mysterious and long-buried secrets of The Red Dress.

Available on Amazon: The Red Dress

Cover Design by Charlie Edmisten

When we’re writing a novel, we’re leading our readers down a path. In the best case scenario, that path is one that leads to a satisfying conclusion. It can take years to develop the kind of storytelling prowess that doesn’t get bogged down in unimportant details, but is holistic and tightly woven.

As we write, we need to ask ourselves: Does this detail fit into the whole in a seamless, artful way, or is it just something I threw in because I like it? Does each paragraph add to, rather than detract from, the story I’m trying to tell? None of us who write do it perfectly, but our goal should always be to keep our readers off rabbit trails and on “straight paths” that at the end of the book, leave them both fulfilled and longing for more.

Photo by Charlie Edmisten

Last year, I wrote a paragraph for the beginning of a novel. Just a paragraph. I really felt there was “something there” but the story refused to show itself. It remained hidden. And it frustrated me. Then, this pandemic hit. And suddenly, the words that had been so elusive, revealed themselves. I’m currently working on the seventeenth chapter of The Red Dress, and the words are flowing easily. It’s as if the people in the yet-unfinished manuscript are aching for their stories to be told.

In the opening storyline, Arabella Edwards is living by herself during the current pandemic. She’s lonely, afraid, and suffering from panic attacks. Then, in an old chest in the attic of her century home, she finds a bloodstained red dress from the 1800’s. Uncovering the mystery of the red dress will unite Arabella to people in a way she never expected to be united in the midst of a global crisis.

The parallel storyline set in 1852 finds a runaway slave hidden in Arabella’s home in a different era. When the two storylines converge, my hope is that both the tragedy and the redemption in The Red Dress will remind everyone who reads it that we are a people who will forever be in need of friendship, companionship, grace, and love.

My husband took this photo a few days ago and I posted it on Facebook with the caption…In the midst of crisis…beauty. As you’re all aware, the crisis I was referring to is the Coronavirus pandemic that has literally shut down the entire world.

As thousands of people have said by now, these are unprecedented times. We’re living through a moment in history that will be discussed as long as there is history. These days have made me realize that we’re all writers now. Every article written, every tweet, every text, every email, every Facebook and Instagram post, every letter about this virus and its effect on the world is living, breathing history that will tell the generations that come after us the story of what we lived through during this pandemic.

These written words will give the people of the future an insight into the best and worst of human nature during this this time and how it all played out. Our words will be a testament to who we are in the midst of crisis and where our hope lies. Words matter. They always have. But they especially matter now. Because now we’re all writers – and we’re recording with our words a vision of our experience that will be consumed and pondered for generations to come. So, let our words be true – but let them be wise and noble and worthy for the eyes that will see them long after ours have closed.

Photo by Charlie Edmisten

If you’re a regular reader of this blog, you probably know by now that I love everything about the olden days – the gowns, the manners, the carriages, the homes – it all fascinates me and fills me with a sense of wonder! I love that time when things seemed far simpler and more gentle than our modern era.

That love for the olden days prompted the setting of my award-winning In Time series where twelve-year-old Emarie Gordon travels through time to the distant past. Back In Time is the third and final book of my time-travel adventure series for tween readers and adults alike. 🙂 In this final book, the adventures of Emarie and her friends wrap up with one last mission in 1879 – and a surprise ending that will reveal why Emarie’s adventure in time began in the first place!

If you long for a time so different than the one we live in, check out Back In Time and the rest of the In Time series on Amazon!

Available on Amazon: Back In Time

Cover Art by Michelle Mulligan

What will my destination look like after I’ve written the final sentence of a new book? Will the ending be anything like I envisioned when I began the book? Have the characters revolted against the carefully formed storyline I created and gone their own way instead of the way I wanted them to go? Will I have to rethink and rewrite because I’ve exceeded the word count for a certain market?

I’ve learned the hard way that the answers to those questions should never take preeminence when a story is emerging. I’ve discovered that the joy in writing lies in letting the process lead me to its destination. I don’t need to adhere to a carefully crafted outline. I don’t need to stifle what my characters want to say because I fear exceeding a certain word count. I don’t need to wrestle them into conformity.

If we constrain creativity, we lose the wonder of watching in awe as something new comes to life under our very fingertips. I’m thankful to have learned the invaluable lesson that we don’t need to know the destination when we begin writing – we simply need to let the words pour out and follow them there.

Photo by Charlie Edmisten

During a recent snow hike, I noticed this small tree bent over by the weight of snow. Without really thinking about it, the thought came to me that this tree resembled a woman bent down with sorrow, grieving an enormous loss. Her pain was unbearable. It was palpable.

In that moment, I realized how transformative imagination is. In my mind, it transformed a small, snow-covered tree into a woman utterly broken by unrelenting pain. Without the eye of imagination, I would simply have seen a snow-covered tree and nothing else. Without the eye of imagination, our writing would be dry and uninspired – devoid of life. The eye of imagination is a gift that gives us the best possible vision we could ever hope to have!

When you look at this picture, you may think you’re looking at a piece of fabric. In reality, your’e looking at an aerial view of a wheat field after it had been harvested. Pretty amazing, huh?

Looking at this picture always makes me think about how wrong our conclusions can be if we’re not looking at things from the right perspective. When we write something – and especially something that is deeply meaningful – our hope is to give the reader a new perspective so that they can see things in a way they may never have seen them before. To consider issues in a way they may never have considered them before. To see things as they truly are and not simply what they wish them to be.

Charles Dickens did this in Oliver Twist when he ripped the veneer off of well-to-do English society and exposed the obliviousness of wealth to the suffering of poverty. Victor Hugo did this as well when he unmasked mercilessness posing as justice in Les Miserables. It’s all about perspective. It’s a daunting thing to write with the hope of shifting a person’s perspective. And possibly arrogant. But when the intentions are sincere, writing to offer a perspective that will bring clarity and effect good is among one of the most noble aspects of writing.

Photo by Charlie Edmisten

It snowed overnight where we live. I went out before sunrise to clean snow off the cars, and while I was alone in the darkness, I took this picture of the enormous pine tree on the side of our house. Yes, I still have the Christmas lights on the tree, and yes, I’ll probably leave them on the rest of the winter. 🙂

As I stood outside in the utter stillness and silence, I felt a sense of complete contentment. I reflected on how rarely there is absolute stillness and silence in my life and how beautiful the stillness is. I also reflected on the quality that stillness can bring to our writing. When there is stillness, there is a refreshing of the soul, and there are words that flow from that beautiful emptiness that flow from no other place within us. Silence is so often portrayed as a lonely and desolate place – but maybe we can shift our perspective to view stillness as a hallowed sanctuary from which beauty emerges.

My husband and I went hiking a while back and came upon this moss-covered log on a pine forest trail. For some unknown reason, it caught my eye, and I spent at least five full minutes gazing at it.

Not that I believe in talking trees, but it seemed to have a story to tell and I wanted to take the time to listen. By absorbing that moment instead of rushing away, a poem resulted. The story the moss-covered log had to tell was told. It was a valuable lesson I hope I won’t soon forget – that it’s always a good thing to stop and sit awhile.

Photo by Charlie Edmisten

 The Moss to the Tree

 Old friend,   
 You’ve fallen   
 But I will cover you with life

 There on the forest floor
 You lost your life and more  
 Now,
 I make my vow to restore

 They saw you dying
 Walked by, disregarding
 Now, 
 They see me clinging     
     
 And they stop and wonder   
 Stop and ponder   
 Now,   
 Beautiful together 
 
 I knew you could be free
 Clothed in my fragility
 Now, 
 We blend in harmony

 I saw what they didn’t see   
 Your surrender and nobility   
 Now,
 They see union in all its purity 

 Once, they looked at you
 Only when you grew
 Now, 
 They look at you anew    

 Old friend,   
 You’ve fallen  
 But I will cover you with life   
    
  

My husband took this picture of the Milky Way last year high on a hilltop in Carrollton, Ohio. When I saw it, it took my breath away. I felt as if I was inhaling something beautiful into my soul.

At moments like that, I realize what a gift nature is to a writer. In an admittedly inadequate way, I can now begin to describe the awe-inspiring majesty of the Milky Way because I have witnessed its beauty. Having seen the ocean, I have the heightened ability to write about its primal power in a way that can more deeply affect a reader.

I want to always be the kind of person who values the gift that nature is to writing – to always remember that it allows us to inhale something glorious and then exhale it onto the blank canvas of a page so that others can “see” through words the wonder of God’s creation.

Photo by Charlie Edmisten

Music moves our souls. It is transcendent. And it’s a wonderful source of inspiration for writing. When you need to dig deep to write something especially heart-wrenching, a melancholy piece of music can take you to “that place.”

If you need to write something inspirational, listening to upbeat, triumphant tunes can provide the perfect words to put down on paper. My son-in-law pictured here is an amazing composer. His music is one of my first go-to’s when I need inspiration in my writing.

So, if you’re having writer’s block, don’t beat yourself up and agonize over your keyboard for hours. Instead, turn up the volume and let music make your heart soar with words born of melody.

Check out my son-in-law’s beautiful compositions at:

Joseph Snode Music

It’s probably not wise to admit this while I’m trying to sell books, but I’m often embarrassed when I think about my early writing. Reflecting on my first book, I’ve sometimes felt that it isn’t “deep” enough – that because it’s not classic-type literature, it isn’t worthwhile.

But watching You’ve Got Mail tonight – a simple romantic comedy that I’ve watched countless times – I realized that it’s not always the “deep” that touches us most. I go back to You’ve Got Mail again and again, not because it’s profound, but because it makes me feel as if I’m spending time with dear friends. The books that touch us most may not be the ones that are the most profound, but the ones that strike a familiar chord in our hearts and make us feel as if we’re truly among friends.

This picture of our huge pine tree was taken last winter during the holidays. This tree all lit up instantly takes me back to my childhood and the wonder I felt when I got up before anyone else was awake and sat in the dark, staring at the lights on our Christmas tree. Those times evoked a feeling of warmth and safety.

Gazing at the lights on our pine tree takes me back to that place. It’s instantaneous nostalgia. So much of writing is born from a place of nostalgia. We give the times we long for a second birth so that others can share in the wonder of our wonder years. I can’t imagine what the world of literature would be without nostalgia. This is the privilege of writers – to take readers back to the times and places they long for with words that bring their yesteryear to life once again.

In April of this year, my husband and I went to Punta Cana with dear friends. During that trip, I went parasailing for the very first time. In this picture, I’m front and center, hands lifted high.

Parasailing was one of the most peaceful and yet exhilarating experiences of my life. Floating sixty feet above beautiful blue water, the wind blowing softly, the silence and wonder surrounding me – it was a moment I’ll never forget.

I’m typically a very cautious person and many of my friends were shocked to hear that I’d gone parasailing. Oddly enough, I wasn’t afraid. I was eager to do it. And I’d do it again a thousand times.

That experience made me realize that to write well, we often have to push ourselves into new experiences. Experiences give us new words, new feelings, new places to draw from as we write. Though I’ll probably never stop being a cautious person, I’ve realized that the exhilaration of new experiences – be they small or great – is something I need to pursue in order to deepen the quality of my writing. For now, though, I’m just going to rake the leaves. 🙂

Write what you want to read. I read that line today on an Instagram post written by a Young Adult author – and it really resonated with me.

I love the “olden days.” I love touring historical homes, the floor-length dresses, the manners, the slower pace – I love everything to do with that bygone era that seems somehow gentler than our modern time.

I wrote my In Time series out of that love for the past. I wrote about all the things that I would have wanted to read in grade school about the wonder of traveling back in time to the olden days. So, let’s keep writing what we want to read – because in all likelihood, a kindred spirit is out there searching for the exact same thing!

Beauty. It’s one of the things that draws us to create. Wherever we find beauty – in nature, in music, in art, in writing – it magnetically draws us in and compels us to create so that others may taste the intangible joy we’ve experienced by beholding beauty.

Artists create beauty out of a multitude of mediums, musicians in notes passionately and well-played – and writers out of well-woven words. When those times happen that I’m able to write something beautiful, I’m truly grateful to the God who is Beauty for the ability to touch souls with words.

Photo by Charlie Edmisten

In October of 2018, my husband and I sat in a restaurant across the street from this idyllic Bed and Breakfast in Bar Harbor, Maine. I fell in love with this ivy-covered home and the lure of its history.

My mind instantly raced with questions. Who had lived in the home when it was first built? Had it been a happily married couple? Or a wealthy, lonely bachelor? What joys and sorrows had filled the lives of the people who’d crossed its threshold through the years? Whose light was on in the upper right window? What is the love story of the couple walking up the sidewalk? Who is the man talking to them and why is he in Bar Harbor at this point in time?

I realized in that moment that this is how stories are born…we have to get to the bottom of our questions. We have to know. And that quest to know unfolds into a story which must be told. What a privilege it is to unearth those stories and to weave them into words so that the untold can finally be told!

Inspiration. We all need it in order to create. We can find inspiration in a person. We can find it in a favorite author. We can find it in a place.

One of those places for me is a beautiful cemetery in Canal Fulton, Ohio – the town where I lived from age ten to eighteen. There’s a gravestone in that cemetery made into a bench. The name Myers is engraved into the stone. I have to believe that the Myers buried there believed in inspiration simply because they had their gravestone made into a bench. No one devoid of imagination could do something quite so wonderful.

I spent many hours in this beautiful place as a teenager – pondering the existence of God, life, and love, and was inspired to write as a result of my time spent there. Inspiration is a gift. Let’s treasure that gift in all the wonderful and unlikely forms it may take!

“Come sit with me – In the garden of my past – We can tell each other – Of trees and grass – It is scented and perfumed – Of rain and life – Its warm and cool – With shade and sunlight – And birds will join us – Singing their thoughts – Of fields and flowers and – Memories breezes have brought.” ~Geoffrey Fafard

This charming setting is the the Anne of Green Gables homestead in Prince Edward Island, Canada.

After years of dreaming about visiting the land of my fictional kindred spirit, my husband and I finally made it there for our 30th anniversary in October of 2018. It’s hard to put into words exactly what that experience meant to me. It was like going home…into the loving arms of a best friend.

As a child, the character of Anne Shirley was as real to me as any real-life friend, and her influence on me is felt to this day. Anne taught me that a well-written character is a character who comes alive in the heart of a reader. A comfort you go back to time and again. Because of Anne Shirley, I aspire to create characters who truly come alive in the hearts of my readers. Kindred spirits. Are there any two words more sweet?

“Kindred spirits are not so scarce as I used to think. It’s splendid to find out there are so many of them in the world.” ~Anne Shirley

We can all remember the joy we felt when we read our first book and were wonderfully, magically, transported to a whole new world!

Having tasted that joy, writers write so that others can have the extraordinary experience of going to worlds other than their own by merely opening the pages of a book.

When we open the pages of a book, we meet people we would never have met otherwise. We experience things we would never have experienced otherwise. We acquire knowledge we would never have possessed otherwise.

In those pages, we gain empathy and compassion we might never have gained otherwise. And so we write – that others may enter into that magical, transcendent mystery that is a book!

Favorite characters. Every writer has a character they’ve created who is special to them. One of my favorites is Celia Petrov from The Boundary.

She’s an elderly dynamo who lives life with absolute gusto! She may not be strong on self-awareness, but she’s strong on loyalty, love, compassion, and curiosity about life.

She didn’t burn out and fade as she got older, her light only burned brighter. There are many Celia Petrov’s around us…of all ages. Let’s celebrate and cheer them on as they bring joy to our lives and the lives of others!

I hate having my picture taken. Fact. I simply despise it because I’m so unphotogenic. Fact.

But I love this picture taken at the North Canton (Ohio) Public Library’s Local Author Fair on September 28th because one of my favorite people in the world is in the picture with me.

This aspiring writer/horse-lover was the inspiration for the character, Gwendolyn Fox, in my time-travel adventure, Mystery In Time. She’s one-of-a-kind and I love her for it! I’m looking forward to the day when I can visit her at a local author fair!

Like Travis Barrett, the main character in The Boundary, I love a good mystery. I decided to set this mystery in a library because libraries are some of my favorite places in the world.

The Canal Fulton Public Library in my (second) hometown of Canal Fulton, Ohio was converted from a family home built in 1879. It’s a magical place, and I hope I’ve captured some of that same magic and history in Travis Barrett’s Blackstone Library.

Available on Amazon: The Boundary

Cover Design by Charlie Edmisten

Many Waters is a story close to my heart as several of the settings in the novel are places I’m familiar with. Like Karen Burke, my first job was at Montgomery Ward in Canton, Ohio, and Karen’s family home on Meyers Lake is where my mother-in-law lived for many years.

Karen’s predicament in love is one I’ve heard time and again through the years from individuals who have rationalized being with someone they knew did not share their faith. Karen’s story and the redemption it portrays is a testament to the Lord’s goodness and grace.

Available on Amazon: Many Waters

Cover Art by Michelle Mulligan

The Invisible Line is set in beautiful Paris, Ohio – a place where I’ve picked blueberries and enjoyed the gorgeous scenery from a friend’s back porch.

The main character in The Invisible Line has a painful secret – something many of us carry in this life, feeling we’re beyond hope.

The message of this book is that there is always hope in the midst of obstacles that seem insurmountable.

Available on Amazon: The Invisible Line

Cover Design by Charlie Edmisten

The opening conflict in Nothing Hidden is similar to a violent altercation I witnessed as a very young child, and I drew from that memory while writing this book. That incident has stayed with me throughout my life – just as the violent episode Mona Krane witnessed impacted the entirety of her life.

The unfolding of Mona’s story is an emotional and spiritual journey that will lead the reader to an unexpected ending that resolves the tension of Mona’s past.

Available on Amazon: Nothing Hidden

Cover Design by Charlie Edmisten

Mystery In Time is the second book of the award-winning In Time series.

In this adventure, Victoria and Emmeline Hill, and their servants, Lorna James and Stefan Cano, travel from 1902 to 2018 to Emarie’s hometown of Killbuck, Ohio, in order to enlist her help in clearing their father’s name of a crime he did not commit.

Their adventures ultimately lead them back to 1902 and straight into a face-to-face confrontation with two of the craftiest villains ever found in New York City.

Fun fact…Killbuck is my daughter-in-law’s hometown and I spent a wonderful day there touring the quaint town with her mom and grandma as I researched the setting for Mystery In Time.

Available on Amazon: Mystery In Time

Cover Art by Michelle Mulligan

Written In Time is the first book of the award-winning In Time series – a time-travel adventure in which twelve-year-old Emarie Gordon is transported to the year 1901 via the portal of an antique Underwood typewriter.

In 1901, she meets wealthy sisters, Victoria and Emmeline Hill, and their servants, Lorna James and Stefan Cano. Through a series of adventures, Emarie’s ultimate mission is revealed and accomplished.

This adventure was written for the children of a friend of mine who asked me to write a story for them. It was so fun to read each chapter to them as it was finished and to witness firsthand their excitement as the story unfolded. Fun fact…the original inspiration for this story was an antique Oliver typewriter my daughter and son-in-law found for me at a flea market in Hartville, Ohio.

Available on Amazon: Written In Time

Cover Art by Michelle Mulligan