The Next Big Thing

One year our family Thanksgiving celebration required us to bring an item representing what we were thankful for. We couldn’t claim God or family—too easy. We had to think outside the box of stuffing.

I brought a pencil. It signified my dream of writing and I praised God for allowing me to pursue that dream in various venues.

Since that day, the Lord has blessed me with columns, nonfiction publications, two fiction sales ... and an agent!

Linda Glaz of Hartline Literary Agency is one of the most encouraging people I’ve had the blessing to work with. Last week she invited me to follow along on her “Blog Hop” and today I’m doing just that by answering questions about my WIP – Work in Progress.

You can read more about Linda and her exciting news at http://lindaglaz.blogspot.com. 

My WIP is another Colorado Christmas romance, but this one takes place in Cañon City, Colorado, in 1860 when the population was 720. Six hundred were men. Sounds like the makings of a good story to me.

Title: A Cañon City Christmas

Where did the idea come from? On assignment for the local paper, I discovered the Royal Gorge Regional Museum and History Center. What a gold mine of information! Linda asked her clients if they had a pioneer-type Christmas story and I realized I didn’t have far to go for inspiration.

Genre: Historical romance. (Never thought I’d try this; always believed I was a current events kind of writer.)

What actors would play your characters in a movie version? Nicole Kidman with reddish hair and Jim Caviezel twenty years younger. 

Short Synopsis: Annie Whitaker and her father leave their prosperous mercantile business in Omaha and head west to set up shop in the Rocky Mountain gold country. Cowboy Caleb Hutton rides through Cañon City on his way to the Lazy R cattle ranch, but he’s too late. No work. He heads back to Cañon where he meets the Whitakers and works doubly hard at hiding what he really is.

Agency Representation? Linda Glaz of Hartline Literary Agency.

How long did it take to write that first draft? Don’t know, still at it. But I’m about three quarters of the way.

What other books in this genre compare? Mona Hodgson’s series about the Sinclair Sisters of Cripple Creek, and Lauraine Snelling’s several historical series.

Any others in this genre? This is my first historical, but I’m also in the middle of a modern day Cañon City story. I’m toying with the idea of writing a series set in the Arkansas River Valley and the gateway to the famous Royal Gorge. Maybe a story every thirty years, from 1860 to today.

Who or what inspired the WIP? A few months ago, Linda asked her clients if anyone had a historical romance. Since her first challenge to me to write a Christmas novella resulted in my first fiction sale to White Rose Publishing, I decided to give it a try.

Anything to add? As a journalist, I’ve written a lot about Cañon City’s history, so I almost feel as if I’ve walked those dusty nineteenth-century streets. I love the area—the river, the mountains, the ridiculously blue sky. OakTara recently bought one of my short stories set here in Cañon. Who knows where this WIP will lead?

Interested in other authors’ WIPs? Follow this “Hop” by visiting these blogs (copy and paste in your browser) next Wednesday, Nov. 28^th:

Susan F. Craft - http://historicalfictionalightintime.blogspot.com
Gail Kittleson – http://gailkittleson.blogspot.com

Linda Maran - http://lindamaran.blogspot.com

Thanks for reading ~ and have a blessed Thanksgiving.

Veteran Dreams

I used to teach middle school where adolescent boys studied ancient kings and warring nations, and longed to be soldiers and warriors themselves. 

Now I teach in a college where young marines sit in plastic chairs and let me tell them how to write. They bear the scars of battles far less glamorous than those portrayed in their middle-grade history books.

These men have grown up more than they wanted. They’ve fought to right the wrongs of others and, like their fathers, prevent the encroachment of tyrants who would rule the world at any cost.

I’m proud of these boys-turned-men who sit and listen to me drill the rules of punctuation. They are gentlemen, every one, hiding behind their attentive eyes what they’ve seen in places I’ve only heard of.

Sometimes their stories leak from their fingers and onto the page and give me a glimpse of the horrors they dream, reminding me that Veterans are not only the men and women of my parents’ generation or my own.

They are my children, and will someday be my grandchildren, fighting to protect those who cannot defend themselves.

God bless them every one.

Ever want to run away and hide?

Like the lamp post in C.S. Lewis’s The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, this vine-draped cottonwood tree beckons me into another dimension. Each time I pass it, my inner child urges me to step through the portal into a place where the impossible could happen.

My grown-up self sees it as a hiding place – a refuge where I can escape daily assaults and mundane duties.

Sometimes I just want to hide.

My favorite author felt the same way. David the shepherd-king wrote:

            Rescue me from my enemies, O LORD,

            For I hide myself in you. —Psalm 143:9 (NIV)

What better place to take cover than in the Lord God Almighty? He knows everything about me and still loves me. Is there anyone safer than that?

Sometimes I need to hide.

And rest.

And soak up His strength.

And learn again like a little child that in Him, the impossible really does happen.

How about you?

You are my hiding place; —Psalm32:7 (NIV)

More than one reminder

God gave us more than one sign of His assurance to sustain life. We usually think of the rainbow marking His promise to never again send a life-ending flood. But that is His reminder, not ours.

He did more than set the colorful bow we often see following a rainstorm.

He gave us the seasons: Spring’s fragrant budding, summer’s rich growth, autumn’s golden harvests, and winter’s snowy cloak.

The seasonal cycle reminds us of His faithfulness and assures us that we, too, will rise following our winter days to the newness of life in Christ.

“And never again will I destroy all living creatures, as I have done.

As long as the earth endures,

seedtime and harvest,

cold and heat,

summer and winter,

day and night

will never cease.” 

—Genesis 8:21-22 (NIV)

What better place to be?

Last week, a particularly harrowing week, my friend Jill wrote to tell me the following:

Please know you've been prayed for...and will be lifted up into His glorious, tender, loving hands...

Hands that brought healing—of every kind.

Hands that lifted up—helped, supported, built.

Hands that were eager to touch—

   anyone untouchable.

Hands that pulled children into His lap.

Hands that slapped His knee when He laughed.

Hands that lifted up bread of provision—

   and distributed nourishment to thousands.

Hands that formed knots in a whip—

   that lashed out at true injustice, 

   that cleansed what represented His Father. 

Hands that broke bread, that washed the feet of those closest to Him—

   and the one who betrayed Him. 

Hands that were pierced.

Hands that are forever scarred, that are always lifted in praise to God.

Gentle, kind, loving, firm, provisional, covenant-making and keeping, glorious hands.

Today I share this prayer with you, in whatever may be your struggle.

Isaiah 49:16 

Photo by Amanda J. Photography 

"Hands" used by permission