A Cure for the Wintertime Blues?

I commented to someone last week that I’ve been feeling sad and alone these last few weeks even though I’ve been surrounded by people and busier than busy at the Blue Belle and church. I blamed it on the wintertime blues. We’ve rarely seen the sun since returning home from Arizona (how thankful am I for that brief break from winter!)

While friends on Facebook are posting pictures of the first blooms of spring, our snow keeps piling up and up and up. I think there’s almost a foot on the ground already, and another 3-5 inches are expected today.

That’s when a friend said to me, “Don’t you always feel this way when you finish a book?” Sigh. She was right. I finished my rough draft of PLUM TART IRIS and wrote The End exactly two weeks ago. I’ve been feeling lost ever since.

One of the many joys of writing novels, and hopefully reading them, is that the worlds we escape to, in this case, the Czech Republic, feel real. The characters become our friends, and sometimes, even more. If you’ve ever fallen in love with a character, you know the feeling – but fun as a fictional crush may be, it’s not just about “love.”

When we write or read a good book, we explore new worlds, learn invigorating new truths, think about things that would otherwise never have entered our minds, and have the type of honest conversations that we rarely have in our real lives. In many ways, book relationships can feel more real than the ones that fill our everyday lives.

As a writer, I bare my soul via the characters in my books, spend hours researching other cultures and historical backdrops, and conjure up visions of lush landscapes and tucked away, intimate corners of places we have visited on our vacations. It’s exhausting and exhilarating. The moments – days, weeks and months – I spend in the fictional worlds I create in my books are so dear to me that I often feel that I could stay there, in those places, with the people I have grown to love, forever.

It’s no wonder I feel lonely now that I’ve written The End, closed the door, and started the process of moving on. I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m trying to catch up on some projects neglected while I was immersed in my novel, catch up on my reading, and even talk to some real people who haven’t heard from me in awhile, but there’s still something missing – namely Iris and Mikulas! So, what now?

I could immediately begin another book, but I’ve still got edits to do, a cover to design, formatting and promotional materials to build, and a release party to plan for PLUM TART IRIS. Besides, I’m already feeling a little schizophrenic, planning Irish-themed festivities in honor of  SEASIDE DAISY, my current release, for Saint Patrick’s Day, editing and marketing PLUM TART IRIS, my Czechia mystery, while simultaneously planning a trip to Scotland. And of course, I have to devote at least some of my time to Iowa and Minnesota family, friends, and business pursuits.

So what’s the solution? I’m not sure what to do about my dilemma, but I’ve been told that it’s great fun to binge read my Wildflowers of Scotland novels, one after the other, while the characters and details from the previous book are still familiar and fresh in your mind. If you fall in love with a fictional hero or heroine, it’s all good, because you’re bound to see them in the next book, and the next, and the next. The same holds true with NIGHT and DAY, and the sequel DAYBREAK. Many have told me they’ve gone back and reread one and then immediately gone on to the other. Those who originally read my Maple Valley trilogy had to wait a whole year between STORMY WEATHER, WATERLILY, and MERRY GO ROUND – now, you can see the story unwind through Rachael, Michelle, and Tracy’s lives all in one setting. 

So, if you have the wintertime blues, there’s nothing like “good book immersion therapy.” The experience can carry you through to spring. Make a new friend, travel to a far off country, learn to dance or quilt or make teatime delicacies. Be inspired. Be my guest! All you have to do is open the door and take the first step. 

Comfort Foods and Calming Books

Here in northern Iowa and southern Minnesota, we’ve been snowed in by a blizzard for the last few days. For two days, we were completely cut off from the rest of the world by 6 and 7 foot high drifts up and down our road. Now that the plows have come through, there are walls of snow 8 or 9 feet high on either side of the road, and the drifts that haven’t been already been blasted away are as hard as cement. Our temperatures heading into the month of March are forecast to be in the single digits, so there’s no sign of a spring thaw anytime soon.

On Sunday, church was cancelled for the first time in decades, and I’ve been totally discombobulated ever since, wondering what day it is and awakening in the night thinking it’s time to get up and play the piano. Our schools have had 10 snow days in less than a month and at the rate we’re going, they may be making up days until the 4th of July.

Not to complain… our electricity has stayed on and we have heat. We had plenty of warning that the storm was on its way so we were able to get where we needed to be before the weather turned the roads to glare ice and stock up on food to eat while we were snowed in.  Thank goodness!

Is it just me, or do you get hungry for good old-fashioned comfort foods when something in your life isn’t going quite right?  This weekend, I’ve had meatloaf, home-grown sausage, egg salad sandwiches, and raisin cinnamon bread with a lot of smooth, creamy butter spread on top – and a lot of wonderful cheeses because I was supposed to have a cheese tasting party (it also fell victim to the blizzard).

I have a lot of other foods that I associate with warm, cozy feelings – chocolate chip cookie dough (well, any kind of cookie dough), Grandma Hansen’s chicken pie with baking powder biscuits on top, homemade apple pie, Skippy Super Chunk peanut butter and butter sandwiches… I could go on… This is part of the reason I struggle with my weight.  But my point is that food does a great job of  soothing frazzled emotions and making us happy. So do books, and they’re a lot less fattening!

Reading a favorite book can take you back to happier, less stressful times. Books can transport you to another part of the world, a different era in time, or an altogether unique universe where fantasy reigns. In a well-woven story, dreams can come true. The characters in a wonderful book can reassure you that things could be worse – that your life and your problems aren’t half bad after all. A good novel can help you to dream again, to move forward and keep trying when your own world seems hopeless.

Books can fill your heart with hope. They can uplift you and make you laugh. They can provide a quick escape from the harsh realities of life and renew your perspective.

That’s why I like reading a good book when I’m stranded in a blizzard, trying to relax, or feeling anxious and overwhelmed by what’s going on in my life.

My love for books helped shape my business, a bed and breakfast and country inn called the Blue Belle Inn, just as my passion for good food has. If you come to visit, you’ll find rooms named Never Neverland, On the Banks of Plum Creek, Secret Garden, Anne’s House of Dreams, A Wrinkle in Time, and Heaven to Betsy from Maud Hart Lovelace’s Betsy Tacy books. I’m a writer because Betsy Ray was, and if Laura Ingalls Wilder could make it through the Long Winter, then I can survive these horrible winds and snowstorms we keep having.

If you’re an avid reader, you know exactly what I mean. If you haven’t picked up a book in awhile – I urge you to give reading a second chance. Whether you need comforting or calming, perking up or settling down, a good book can help. Hopefully, it will bring a smile to your face and a song to your heart.  Cookie dough might give you a momentary lift, but reading can change your life.

 

 

Fake News and True Fiction?

With everyone so worked up about rumors of fake news, I’m glad I’m not a news writer. But yesterday, I more or less got accused of writing fake fiction. I was telling people about my book, Night and Day, and that it was loosely based on the story of why my great-great grandparents emigrated from Denmark.

I told them the reputed true part of the story (my great, great grandma was a very beautiful woman, who my great, great grandfather brought to America to get away from another man who was in love with her). I then said that the rest of the book was a product of my wild imagination – one possible explanation of what might have happened in Denmark all those decades ago.

I went on to describe Golden Rod, my most recent release, including the legends and castles that inspired the book. And then I mentioned ghosts.

“So this book isn’t true,” said one of the ladies.

“None of them are true,” I said. “They’re fiction.”

“But if there are ghosts, Golden Rod can’t be based on a true story.”

“But it is,” I said. “We toured a castle in Scotland that has been under a curse for over 500 years. A traveling minister offered to bless the castle, and when his offer was rejected because the owners preferred to wait for the priest, he cursed the castle, promising that no eldest son would ever inherit. In all these years, none has.”

“But if there are ghosts in the story…”

“Fictional ghosts. All of my novels are fiction.” I told them about a second castle we toured, and the legend of a woman who fell from a fourth story window, and the upside down writing carved into the castle wall, 3 ½ stories up where no one but a ghost could reach. “It’s fiction based on a true story,” I tried to explain. “Just like Night and Day. And another of my books, Blue Belle, which was inspired by the tale of a Spanish galleon that went down in Tobermory Bay in 1588, fully loaded with gold that has never been recovered.”

“But if it happened that long ago, no one knows what really happened.”

“Right. That’s why it’s fiction.”

Perhaps the real truth is that there’s a nugget of something that really happened in all my books – or very probably happened – or at least, very probably happened in some similar form, or in a slightly different way, or in a different time.

The truth – altered just enough to protect the not so innocent, which in some cases might be me, and to throw family members, acquaintances, and any others who might judge me off the scent.  The truth – transformed just enough to convince the reader that this is a work of fiction, that the characters, incidents, and dialogs are products of the author’s imagination and not, under any circumstances, to be construed as real.

Because the truth is, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. They’re all fiction, people. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

I write fiction. Still, everything that filters through my brain is based on the reality of my life, my experiences, and my beliefs. I’m a complex person, and so are my books. Real life occurrences inspire fictional stories. Imaginary tales spring from a nugget of truth, either learned or observed.

Fake fiction? You be the judge.

Lessons Learned in a Bluebell Wood

My love of bluebells is no secret.

They bloom in the woods near my B&B every year in late April or early May.

I’ve watched their pink and purple buds turn into intense, periwinkle blue flowers, then fade to a soft, sky blue, since I was a little girl.

I’ve written a book named Blue Belle. The B&B and tea house I’ve owned for 25 years is called the Blue Belle Inn.

Familiar as bluebells are to me, I’ve recently learned a few new lessons while walking through the bluebell wood.

It’s possible to be broken, bent, and beautiful at the same time.  One most likely leads to the other, like the beauty of a mosaic made from broken pieces.

You can focus on the beauty of a place, or the ugliness. Stuff happens. It’s your choice what you dwell on.

For every hill you struggle to climb, there’s an easy cruise down the other side, and a beautiful view from the top besides.

Even when you feel hollow and empty inside, you’re a thing of beauty to someone who needs shelter from the wind.

Finding your own little niche to grow in is one of life’s greatest gifts.

No matter how bad you have it, someone else always has it worse.

Being front and center isn’t always the best place to be. Wallflowers are much less likely to get stepped on than flowers that grow in the middle of a pathway.

You can lift your eyes upward to the tree tops, or follow the shadows down into the valley.  Your choice.

Being uprooted is never fun, but there’s always a bright spot on the horizon.

Sunshine or shadow – it makes all the difference.

Some people live lengthy lives in obscurity, others are chosen to be loved intensely for but a moment.

Some are fortunate enough to find a clear, straight, well-marked path.

Everything you do and say is a reflection on the things you love most – the real you.

Sometimes the path winds  so much that you can’t see what’s around the bend. But that’s okay. It’s good to be surprised.

‘

I’m in a time of transition in my life. Are you? Wandering in the bluebell wood, I was reminded that there’s no better way to find your way than in new lessons learned from the comfort of the familiar.

A Rainbow in Winter

In real life, it’s called a bad case of the blues, losing hope, or hitting rock bottom.   In a book, it’s called the black moment – that devastating culmination of circumstances when all momentum comes screeching to a halt, when you think things are so bad that they can’t possibly get any worse, and then, they do, that time when all hope is lost.

The thing that saddens me is that, whereas the characters in the books we write and read almost always come around to a happy ending, in real life, when we come to a dead end, we sometimes (often?) really do give up and walk away from the things that could bring us true happiness.

We all know that summer comes for only a season, and eventually, must ease into fall – which leads to the desolate cold of winter.

In some cases, it’s even given a name – SAD, or seasonal affective disorder. I’ve been prone to it for years. It can be depressing and debilitating. It can mean death to your dreams and the end to your goals.

In my book, Sweet William, Lyndsie and William seem to have finally overcome the issues that are keeping them apart when tragedy rips their dreams to shreds. The scenes that follow are some of the blackest I’ve even written, but because of the pain they have to work through, their joy is deeper, and the ending, more sweet than any before.

When we hit a wall, we have two choices… we can crawl into a cave, cry ourselves to sleep, and settle in to hibernate for the winter, and maybe beyond.

Or, we can spend our winters looking for bright spots.

Because there are rainbows in winter, and rainbows in deserts, and flowers and dashes of color where you might least expect them, and inspiration in odd places.

And the sun keeps shining even on the coldest days.

It may be blotted out, or obscured for a time, but it is there, giving warmth and melting the snow away from your heart, and making you ready for spring.

The next time you feel hopeless and blue, read a book, maybe even THE Book.

Horrible things will happen, maybe even things that are worse than whatever is making you sad.

And then, wonder of wonder, there will be a resurrection, and out of the ashes will come new life, and somehow, you will find a happy ending.

Have faith. There are rainbows even in the desert.

Seeing the World in Blue and White

I’ve been hearing Scottish accents in my head for over a decade, and now, after returning from my second trip to Bonnie Scotland, my mind’s eye is just as steeped in images of the highlands and islands I’ve been writing about.

 

Our trip was a flurry of wildflowers and walled gardens, castles and keeps, and lochs and legends. My mind is whirling with the characters and construct of a new story, ancient ghosts and curses, and modern day longings and desires set to clash like pitchforks and swords at Culloden.

  

One of my characters is the “rightful” heir of a castle and as fascinated and enamored of Scotland as I am, the other is there only because she could find no other way to wiggle out of her duties as the legal heir of a castle she cares nothing about.

Even more exciting is the sense of déjà vu I feel about the Wildflowers of Scotland books I’ve already written.

As I spotted each of the wildflowers I’ve featured in Thistle Down, Wild Rose, Blue Belle, Shy Violet, and Sweet William, and the castles and kirks that provide a backdrop for each of the stories, the characters have come to life for me all over again.

One of the highlights of the trip was the day I left a copy of Shy Violet with a random staff member at Eilean Donan’s Castle Café, where many scenes in the book take place. A few days later, on our way back from the Isle of Skye, we stopped once more to eat lunch. The recipient pulled me aside, and in her delightful Scottish accent, said “I’ve begun to read yer book, and I’m loving it! Ye’re a very good author, and I thank ye so much.”

The whole time we were at Eilean Donan Castle, I kept catching glimpse of people who looked like Nathan or Violet.

William and Lyndsie, the stars of Sweet William, felt very close to me when we were on Skye – walking around the mysterious Fairy Glen at Uig, watching the cows graze on Claigon Coral Beach near Dunvegan and dipping a toe in the Fairy Pools at Glenbrittle. Because I know what happens to William while he’s on Skye, I had a deep, sense of foreboding until we were on our way home, and I knew everything was okay.

There’s a magical connection between Scotland and me. I’m a Blue Belle, and always will be. (For those of you who don’t know me, I have a B&B and Tea House called the Blue Belle Inn.)

Loving the blue and white Saltire of Scotland is a natural extension of my love of blue.

If you’ve yet to fall in love with Scotland, I hope you’ll pick up a copy of one of my Wildflowers of Scotland novels and see if the highlands and islands of Scotland resonate with you like they do me.

Age old castles and blue-watered bays,

White sandy beaches and quaint cottage stays.

A rainbow of colors and chocolates, hand-dipped,

A valley of bluebells and sheep, freshly clipped.

Legends galore, buried treasure, and more…

In the Wildflowers of Scotland novels, that’s what’s in store.

Twenty-four years ago, Sherrie Hansen Decker rescued a dilapidated Victorian house from the bulldozer’s grips and turned it into a B&B and tea house, the Blue Belle Inn. Sherrie and her husband, Mark, who is a pastor, live in 2 different houses, 85 miles apart. Sherrie writes murder mysteries and novels whenever she’s not working at her B&B – or trying to be a good pastor’s wife. Her contemporary romantic suspense novels include Night and Day, Love Notes, and Thistle Down, Wild Rose, Blue Belle, Shy Violet and Sweet William, her Wildflowers of Scotland novels.

You can see what’s she’s up to at: 

https://www.facebook.com/BlueBelleInn

 https://sherriehansen.wordpress.com/

http://www.BlueBelleInn.com or www.BlueBelleBooks.com

https://twitter.com/SherrieHansen

https://www.pinterest.com/sherriebluebell/

Sherrie’s new release is Sweet William.

He’s a real sweetheart. She’s a wee bit tart. When Minnesota farm boy, William McKnight, and sassy Scot, Lyndsie Morris, are forced to work together in the kitchen of Rabbit Hill Lodge, the atmosphere is as charged as an episode of Chopped. Will someone get cut, or will they find a recipe that works? Things just start to get spicy when an angry bull butts his way into the picture, and Lyndsie has to decide if she loves William more than everyone and everything she holds dear.

When the Skies of November Turn Gloomy

November used to be one of my least favorite months. November is dull, dreary, gray, and, after a beautiful summer and fall, oh, so anti-climactic. And we all know what happens when the gales of November come early or the witch of November comes stealin’…

For me, all that has changed. I look forward to November all year long – not because of the bitter winds or the colorless landscape, but because I do NaNoWriMo! NaNoWriMo is National Novel Writing month, the time of year when writers young and old are issued a challenge to write 50,000 words (a short novel) in the month of November. This is accomplished by writing 1667 words a day for each of the 30 days in November, which is no small feat! Because it coincides with a slow time of year at my B&B and Tea House, it’s become my annual time of year to finish my work in progress. Because my novels average 95,000 or 100,000 words, that means I have the first 10 months of the year to write the first half of the book, and one short month to finish it.

The folks at NaNoWriMo recommend that for the month of November, you don’t take time to edit, rewrite or perfect. You just get the words on the paper, or in most cases, in your word processor. There’s plenty of time to get picky come December or January. Some people accomplish this mad blitz of writing by being highly organized and carefully plotting out each scene they intend to write. Others fly by the seat of their pants, dashing off anything that pops into their heads as it comes to them. Fresh, wild and unpredictable.

My own plan of attack when I start a book is to wing it for the first quarter of the book or however long it takes to give the characters a chance to talk to me about who they are and what they want. By the time I’m a quarter or a third of the way in, I know their stories, and have a clear idea of what needs to happen in the rest of the book. But as NaNoWriMo looms, I make out a list of scenes that need to be included and figure out what POV they will be in, so I know who the antagonist and protagonist are and what conflict will drive the scene. Then, when I have time to write, I can just pick a scene and go. A big part of NaNoWriMo is the discipline to write every day – a definite challenge for those of us with crazy or erratic schedules. My best writing time always used to be late at night, but lately, I find myself more alert and productive first thing in the morning. Then, if I can stay awake after whatever business the rest of my day holds, I try to write a little more at night. I always try to meet my daily word count, but there are days I just don’t have time because of other commitments. I write in larger chunks whenever I can to make up for those days.

As I said, for the past several years, I’ve attempted to have my next release half done by the time November rolls around in hopes of being finished with my rough draft by November 30. What a grand day of celebrating that is! I do my edits and rewrites in December-February so I can send the manuscript to my editor and publisher in March. They typically have it ready for release in June or July. For me, it’s a good rhythm. I wrote large portions of Love Notes, Wild Rose, Blue Belle, and Shy Violet in November because of NaNoWriMo.

Some writers get involved with a local NaNo group that may meet at some public place or coffee shop for writing jags. Since I live in a small town / rural area and write at odd times of the night and day, often in my nightgown, I work alone. I do have some online NaNo buddies who act as cheerleaders and hold me accountable or inspire me if I get bogged down or discouraged. For me, the best part of NaNoWriMo is the little graph on my homepage that charts my progress. I love logging in to the NaNoWriMo website and entering my word count. I find the camaraderie, reminders and pep talks to be motivating.

I completed my task of writing 50K words for NaNoWriMo twice. Although I’ve fallen a little short of the word count the other times I’ve participated, I got way more written than I would have without NaNo, and thus, I feel like I accomplished my personal goals.

Whether you’re a new writer who’s always wanted to write a novel, or an experienced author who needs a jumpstart in your writing life, I urge you to give NaNoWriMo a try! You never know what might come from it… but it could be the next best-seller. Whatever the outcome, a little boost never hurts. Yes, this time of year can be a downer, but there’s no need to drown in the dismal seas of November. Let NaNoWriMo be your bright spot!

Between a Rock and a Hard Place

My last three – soon to be four – books, set in Scotland, have plenty of castles and kilts, kirks and keeps.  Those, and a muscular highlander or two, are the things Scottish romances are made of.

But my books are also laced with wildflowers – wildflowers that aren’t particularly Scottish. Roses, violets, bluebells and even thistles can be found nearly everywhere in the world, after all. So, what is the connection and why did I choose to set my Wildflowers of Scotland novels (Thistle Down, Wild Rose, and Blue Belle – available now, and Shy Violet and Sweet William – coming soon) against the backdrop of Scotland?

A Striking Contrast:  In a place where flowers grow in lush, abundant quantities, a shy, little violet growing along a mossy pathway, a bluebell that’s here and gone again in a two week window of spring, even a wild rose, get easily lost in the profusion. In a country built on a rocky foundation and filled with harsh, cold landscapes, dark, misty vales, cold, stone castles, and drab, colorless cottages, a wee wildflower or two provide the perfect bit of contrast, a much needed dash of color to an otherwise harsh landscape.

A Lesson in Survival:  Scottish wildflowers are a hardy lot who blossom and grow and shine despite hard winters, rocky soils, brief summers, extreme variations in weather, and other adverse conditions.

I hope you’re starting to get a feel for why I set my novels – modern-day mixtures of romance and suspense – against the backdrop of the Scottish countryside, and that you can see the Scotland I love in the bouquet of wildflowers I’ve picked for you.

Thistle Down – A prickly, purple thistle played the hero when an Englishman doing reconnaissance stepped on a particularly thorny specimen and let out a howl, alerting Scottish guards to an imminent invasion by the English. We’ve all been in situations where the odds are stacked against us, and whatever is happening in our lives is so dire and growing more hopeless by the minute, that we can’t imagine salvation is even remotely possible. And then, when all seems lost, something inadvertently wonderful and life-shattering happens, and all is well once again. Nothing like the sharp bite of a prickly plant coming out of nowhere to save the day!

Wild Rose – No tame, fragile, domesticated beauties for the extreme seasons of Scotland. Wildflowers are hardy, stubborn and determined to find a foothold whether they be planted atop a stone wall, set amongst ruins, or left for dead along the motor way. No playing it the safe way or being content with the status quo for these lasses and lads, who are risk-takers, trend setters and wild things, all.

Blue Belle – There’s nothing quite so satisfying as glimpsing the first wildflowers of spring after a drab, icy cold, Scottish winter. That first bit of color is not only well-worth the wait, it’s the very thing that makes the whole frigid lapse bearable. Good things do come to those who wait. Springtime flowers are all the sweeter in Scotland, because you have to endure a bit of weather each year before the wildflowers return.

Shy Violet – Scotland is a subtle, understated country in so many ways. No exotic, tropical flowers here. In Scotland, it’s about the simple, everyday things of life, pleasures born both of need and necessity. Keep your eyes open and you’ll see majesty galore in nature’s quiet offerings… a shy violet hiding behind a rock, a blush of heather in the hills, a splash of rhododendrons growing deep in the woods.

Sweet William – From hardship grows character and determination and the sweet appreciation of the things that really matter in life. Gentle spirits born of adversity are so much more lovable than arrogant showoffs. How similar to the way of Scottish wildflowers – blooming not in showy profusion, but cropping up here and there in solitary clumps wherever there is a bit of fertile soil.

The thing about wildflowers, Scottish or not, is that they’re wild. Unpredictable. Full of surprises. Bent on blooming no matter what obstacles they’re up against. Determined to flourish and find a way even when they’re between a rock and a hard place -which is exactly what Scotland is all “aboot”.

Let’s Be Honest

I’ve repeatedly been told that people love my books because my characters are so honest. In Blue Belle, my second Wildflowers of Scotland novel, honesty – and the periodic lack of it – is one of the main themes of the book. This week, after several more instances of being told that my characters are so real  that people can’t wait to find out what happens to them, and that they love my writing because it’s so honest – it’s gotten me wondering, how truthful am I really, as a person and a writer?

It’s much easier for me to be honest under the guise of fiction. People who read my books might wonder if some of the humiliating experiences that are detailed in my books really have happened to me. They may think – did someone really say that to her, hurt her that deeply, take advantage of her, steal from her, or make a fool of her the way they did in the book?   Although all but a few close friends will never know which parts of my books are somewhat factual and which are complete figments of my imagination, if I’m honest, I have to admit that most of the horrid things that happen to my characters have very likely happened to me in one form or another. (Ah, the sweet anonymity of the qualifier…)

I, and most people I know, come from a stoical, northern European tradition of keeping your troubles to yourself, and not embarrassing yourself or your family by revealing too much information about personal matters. No one I know likes having TOO MUCH INFORMATION, except perhaps my husband, who has sometimes wished that people would feel free to be more honest with him (he’s a pastor). The rest of us tend to stay as far removed from the dreaded disease of opening up to people as is humanly possible.

It evidently takes a few years before these secretive behaviors are learned, because for years, my family has teased that we should never say anything in front of my young nieces and nephews that you don’t want repeated. I’d love to reveal a few choice tidbits of information that my nieces have told me over the years, but I won’t. I don’t want to embarrass them or the people they were talking about.

We learn from our teen years on that it’s better not to talk about certain things. We learn to camouflage our emotions and keep secrets and pretend that we’re not really being abused or feeling anxious or depressed or angry or a host of other undesirable emotions. We train ourselves to discount our feelings. It doesn’t matter. I’m fine. No – really – it’s okay. We try so hard to convince ourselves that eventually, most of us do. As we sink deeper and deeper into denial, those around us are often all too eager to buy into the lies. Which of us really wants to deal with a friend who’s having a rough time? Most of us prefer to accept the pretense that everything really is fine, even if we know deep inside that it’s not.

In these days of political correctness, we’re taught to keep our thoughts about our faith, our political beliefs, and our opinions about anything that really matters, to ourselves. And we all know what happens when the truth comes out and the press gets a hold of it – and it’s rarely pretty. So we cower. We back away from the truth and hide behind walls. We truly believe the lie that if people knew what we were really like, they wouldn’t like us. And because most of us are so unaccustomed to dealing with open, honest people, we – sadly – tend to back away from people when they do tell us more than we like to know.

We often hear the phrase, children are refreshingly honest. If that’s a compliment, and I think most often it is, then I’m thrilled to be told that the characters in my books are wonderfully appealing because they’re open, honest and real. As I “grow up” as a writer, I promise you I’ll do my best to keep that “childlike” quality in my writing. And for those of you who know me personally, I’ll attempt to be as candid as I can in my real life, too. People love my characters because they’re flawed, human, and vulnerable. Just think how much closer our relationships, marriages and families could be if we were all a little more honest with one another. We’re promised, after all, that “The truth will set you free. ” (John 8:32)

Austin Artworks Festival, Austin, MN

Austin, Minnesota is the town where I grew up and graduated from high school. Most of my family still lives there, and I visit at least once a week. I’m thrilled and proud that my hometown is supporting local artists, authors and musicians at their annual Artworks Festival. I’ll be speaking and reading from my new release, Blue Belle, at 3 p.m. on Saturday, August 23rd. I hope you’ll join me, and check out the times that your favorite authors and musicians will be appearing as well as checking out the talented artists whose work will be on display. Hope to see you there! I’ll be the one with the cute hat on.