Home from the 10th ACFW Conference!

(left, Susan Downs, me, Susan May Warren. Ten years and counting!)

It's never easy, Being in a pool of peers. Swimming with the current. Against the current. Exhausted. Laughing. Weary yet energized. Pulled in a thousand different directions. Yet somehow having a single purpose.

Novels. Fiction. Hanging with other writers. I love to teach. Never realized how much until I started doing it.

This year, I learned I'm good at improve at the My Book Therapy Pizza Parties on the 18th floor with 100 Voices and a lighted terrace. No wonder singing antiphonally is easy. I can "act" antiphonally too. Ha! We ended the night in song, "Don't Stop Believing." Sharing the stage with Jim Rubart, Karen Ball and Susie May.

Being asked by the band, Jeremiah, Jimi, Jason and Jeremy to ride the elevator with them at 1:00 AM while they detonated iPhone farts on tipsy riders. My acceptance to their invitation inducted me permanently in to the "boy's club." I should write my older brother and his friends thank you notes. They trained me well.

Leading worship with 720 people who love Jesus. Chills running over my arms as we sang to the King of Kings. Disappointed when one of the band members overheard a woman rushing out of the hotel Sunday morning saying, "I can't wait to get back to 'normal' worship." Really? That was her conference take away? Abnormal worship.

Which leads to the question. What's normal worship? Who gets to define worship? Not me. Not you. But the Holy Spirit. Isn't it amazing how MUCH worship is about us. I have to watch that with my own brand of worship. Too tempted to pigeon hole it to fit "me" not Jesus.

Laughing with Liz Curtis Higgs during the Awards Gala. We were too rowdy. I apologize. We never meant to laugh at all -- but a tiny spark can ignite a roaring flame. Then came the spinning elephant and it was all over.

Loving Shannon Marchese's tears-of-laughter. And sharing the table with T.L. Higley, Karen Ball, Steve Laube, Susie May, Shannon and Andy Meisenheimer.

Susan May Warren winning The Carol for Sons of Thunder. I tuck away all of her wins as my wins too. We work that closely...

Meeting so many new writers. Connecting with friends I only see at conference. Meeting new friends. You know who you are!

Gathering with the Belles -- Lisa Wingate, Marybeth Whalen, Beth Webb Hart. Love you! Lisa winning The Carol for Never Say Never!

Hugs from My Book Therapy Voices -- Beth Vogt, Lisa Jordan, Reba Hoffman, Michelle Lim, Delores Topliff, Alena Tauriainen, Edie Melson, Melissa Tagg, and so many more!

Realizing we all have insecurities. We all feel lost. We all want to belong but often feel we don't.

The humor and smiles of Tyler and Jeane Wynn. (Yes... I know... )

Decided I need to be more proactive, a bit more goal oriented. I so want God's will in my life I've been come... passive? I volunteered to sit on the back row with Him, let Him lead my life, let Him sing my praises. I intend to stay there. Yet, I must put plans into place so HE can direct my steps.

Having those moments where I couldn't wait to get home and start writing. Yet, loving a season to refresh.

I love writing novels! It's the other stuff I don't always enjoy...

Ten years ago I attended the first ACFW conference in Kansas City. I've been to every one since. Oddly, there are times when I still feel sooo new, so outside, observing. Am I still the newbie at that first conference so long ago? LOL. It seems like it sometimes.

I met Susan Downs, Susan Warren, Tracey Bateman and Christine Lynxwiler that year and they became dear, dear friends. Women of my heart. I've not seen Tracey or Chris in a few years. I miss them.

Friends.

I'm proud of what ACFW is doing, from where we've come to where we're going. Honored to be a part of God moving among His people and opening up our hearts to WRITE for Him.

Home Sweet Home

The past eleven days have been the most crazy, busy, fun days I've had in awhile. Sadly, all without my hubby.

On the 11th I attended the Ohio State v. Miami Hurricanes game. I hadn't been in the Horseshoe in

over 23 years and was simply overwhelmed at the grandness of the stadium.

Twenty-five years ago this December I graduated from Ohio State. When the college of Arts and

Sciences invited "me" back for an alumni

reunion, I couldn't resist.

None

of my friends were going, but I thought it would wonderful to be back on campus, go to a game.

I won't bore you with the details of how I actually got a great ticket to the game and how I arranged to get to Columbus, but I had a blast. The line in Carmen Ohio, our alumni song, is so true, "How firm thy friendship, O-HI-O."

After the game, I met up with my Columbus cousins and aunt. There is something about "blood" and being with people, no matter how many years in betw

een visits, who come from the same family line. A Hayes family reunion is in the works! (Here we are doing the "Dave Hayes" face. LOL!)

I spent Sunday in southern Ohio visiting my lovely, dear Aunt Betty and the town where my father grew up. As I'm about to start a book where the heroine has no connection with her family history, visiting a town where my grandmother was raise as well as my father and his brothers, brought to focus how much our heritage can impact our life, give us a sense of belonging.

Monday I headed back to Indianapolis and my in-laws. Spent all of Monday and Tuesday going over the final draft of Softly and Tenderly. My in-laws were such good company, letting me work, but feeding me occasionally.

Wednesday, I headed to the downtown Hyatt for the ACFW conference. Good buddy and writing partner Susan May Warren came into town and we had an evening to catch up before being swamped with conference business.

The conference was excellent, the best part being able to see my writing friends and colleagues, my editor(s) and publisher, my agent in one place. The ACFW Worship Band did a fantastic job this year and I'm so grateful to them and their faithfulness.

We usually get a few hours to practice the song list and "gel" as a team and then it's go-time. But the unity we have by the Spirit of God keeps us together and gives us a sound.

I was blessed by the testimonies people shared with me about worship over the years at the conference. I'm so humbled to be used by God in such a way.

The first annual Carol Awards, named in honor of Carol Johnson, a Bethany House editor who saw the value in fiction and acquired a prairie romance by then unknown Janette Oke. Love Comes Softly changed the face of Christian fiction.

(Janette Oke with Carol Johnson.)

When I met Janette, I was in tears. Because of her heart for story, because of Carol's vision when the Christian fiction landscape was bleak, I get to live my dream! And all the writers of ACFW. It was almost overwhelming.

Carol is so gracious and humble, it was an honor to see her honored.

The Sweet By and By was up for the Carol Award, but we didn't win. And yes, it was an honor to be nominated.

I loved seeing my friends and connecting with new ones. So many little details I could write about but it was just a fabulous weekend.

Monday I went back to my in-laws and crashed. :) Had a fun phone call that might result in fun news down the line. Stay tuned.

Tuesday I flew home. I was very grateful to see my hubby and our little dog, too!

Today, I'm catching up with email and Facebook, writing blogs, kind of taking a day to recoup. I can fee the tired in my bones.

By the way, Sara's new song, A Little Bit Stronger is out! Down load it for a listen! It's a great song.

More later! Peace, peace, peace.

I'm curling

We don't have TV at my house, but I've seen some of the Olympics here and there. Watching a bit of curling the other night in my Birmingham hotel.

I love watching how the players slide over the ice as they brushing the ice for the curling disk/ball. Do you think they wear special shoes?

Anyway, it looks so cool to slide over the ice.

That's me since Christmas. I've been writing and traveling, on the go pretty much since New Years.

But it's all good. Here's my curling summation.

Rewriting Dining With Joy, trip to Nashville for The Sweet By and By launch, more editing and rewriting of Joy, goal setting and fellowshipping day with Debbie Macomber, Roxanne St. Claire and Martha Powers, more editing and rewriting of Joy, finally turn in Joy and lead worship that night for our first MyHop.

Breathe, work on small changes for Songbird Novel 2, Softly and Tenderly. Fly to Birmingham to plan Songbird Novel 3 with Sara Evans and Ami McConnell, have dinner night before I leave with my lovely sorority big sis, (who is actually younger than me) Tish Stevning Patton. Home in time to clean house for arrival of Susan May Warren and Lisa Jordan.

Today, first day of My Book Therapy "Deep Thinkers" retreat.

And as I look into the future, the curling ice lane is very long! More activity to come. but God is good! How blessed I am.

I was so blessed to see Tish. It'd been 20 years since we last got together. I saw two of my best sorority buddies in the last two months. That's amazing.

We are discussing emotional layering tonight at the retreat. Follow my updates on Twitter. Otherwise, have a great weekend.

Five "New" People who touched my life in 2009

Two days before Christmas, I met my college friend Suzanne Brubaker (nee Cantwell) at a Starbucks south of Indianapolis.

We talked for 3.5 hours. Not having seen each other in 15 years or so, exchanging only Christmas and Birthday notes throughout the years, I was confident the young woman who impacted me during sorority rush 24 years ago would impact me that day.

She did. We had a blast. Meeting with her was some what of my Christmas present to myself. I looked forward to it about as much as Christmas morning. I was glad I took the time to contact her. Glad she could take the time from a busy Christmas schedule to meet me.

I felt full for the next day, having made a heart connection that had been ignored over the years. We talked about life, where we are now, what we want for the future. Spent only a few minutes rehashing college memories. It was good. One can only rehash college memories for so long.

Suzanne Brubaker touched my life in 2009.

***

Thomas Nelson contracted a new author I knew only via Twitter, Kimberly Cash Tate. We tweeted back and forth a bit before the Denver ACFW conference and I sensed a kindred spirit. I looked forward to meeting her. I was not disappointed. We hit it off, chatting while the servers cleared the lunch tables about politics and religion and the love of God. All those touchy subjects people tend to ignore.

Kim and I waded right in and flowed in the same stream. We both realized our idenity comes from Jesus and the Love He demonstrated by the Cross. Any differences in background, culture and history weren't all that magnified because we both found our core belief in Jesus. He is the one who brings up valleys and lowers mountains.

After meeting her, I was encouraged, edified and full. Kimberly Cash Tate touched my life in 2009.

***

I've known Chip MacGregor for several years through ACFW and my stints as president. Occassionally we'd exchange email barbs. He's an Oregon Ducks fan, I'm an Ohio State Buckeye. (The January 1st Rose Bowl will be the first real test in our relationship!)

In the middle of the year, the Lord began speaking to me about changes coming up in my career. Through a series of cool events, Chip became my agent in July. After a year and a half of off and on angst about my representation, walking in faith, trying to be bold and take chances, I could finally exhale in peace. I knew that I knew that I knew Chip MacGregor was my agent home.

Joy. Confidence. Rest. Simple. I felt full. Chip MacGregor touched my life in 2009.

***

Jenny B. Jones. What a cool name. An even cooler person. I'd know of Jenny through writerly circles and the fact she is another Thomas Nelson author, but it wasn't until we connected during the summer I really got to know her at any level. We chatted at the ACFW conference. We tweet back and forth. She's funny, clever and an all around unique individual that impressed me.

I was just laughing at some of her tweets and thought, "I'm glad to know her. She's brightened my life."

Jenny B. Jones touched my life in 2009.

***

RITA. Okay, so the RWA RITA Award is not technically a person. She's named after a person, but the Award is merely a gold statue. One I don't have on my shelf even though I was an award nominee. Accepting the award on behalf of my writing partner and great friend Susan May Warren was a highlight of my year. God answered my prayer to sincerely love and appreciate the winner. Yes, ladies and gents, I wanted to win. I prayed to win.

While I didn't take home the golden statue, I took home the winning of answered prayer. God deposited a joy in my heart that cannot be destroyed. Or gather dust. When I called Susie to tell her she won, the words, "I didn't win, you did," still bring tears to my eyes.

God specifically sent me to the conference by providing the money to go -- in a month! I registered in faith, feeling I was to attend. Then the money came.

If God provided for me to go, didn't that mean I was to win? Yes. But not the RITA. Something deeper in my heart that comes from genuine joy and love for the one who did win.

It's the scriptual admonition of esteeming others higher than oursevles. And God supernaturally brought me to a place I couldn't have achieved on my own. Yes! Amen.

The RITA Award touch my life in 2009.

***

Naturally others have touched my life this year. These are merely the new or reconnect ones.

My hubby continues to be a major force in my life. My writing partner and friend extraordinaire, Susie May. My editor, Ami McConnell continues to impact me. My Mom. My sister, Rebekah Gunter. My church family. The women of my Tuesday night Dream Team! Love you all. My Kansas City family: Stuart and Esther, and Cassie. My Melbourne/Palm Bay friends and family. My brothers! My writing friends! You know who y'all are.

Joan. The Gonda's. Carrie. My teenage best friend, Lorena Sikking. It was great to be in touch with her this year. My sorority "big" sister Tish Patton and I talked in January for over an hour!

Ack, if I start, I won't be able to stop.

I am blessed. How about you? Did you meet or reconnect with someone in 2009?

RWA Conference and The RITAs

Today I flew home from the Romance Writers of America conference in Washington DC.

I went without any of my buddies, but left with many new and improved relationships. My roommates, Jane Thornton, Nancy Hines and Cecelia Dowdy were strangers on Wednesday but friends by Sunday.

Friend and fabo author Leanna Ellis became a better friend. I deepened my relationship with fellow Buckeye and author Debbie Giutsi, Darlene Buchholz and Missy Tippens.

Lingering with Leanna, Sarah Sumpolec, Robin Lee Hatcher in the hotel lounge after a nice dinner with Linda Hall, we bonded with the glue that is laughter.

Friday afternoon, I prayed with Terri Reed, Deanne Gist, Cara Slaughter, Judy Duarte and another author that I cannot remember. I'm so sorry, friend, for forgetting!

I visited with the lovely and kind Siri Mitchell, unable to stop bragging on her book, Love's Pursuit. Oh man, what a GREAT book. You have to read this story. Siri went to a new level in her writing and story telling. As if she wasn't awesome already.

While I missed the vivacious and bubbly Susan May Warren, I had a great time kind of floating. I could go with whoever. . . whenever. It was fun. God seemed to provide the right friend at the right moment. For both them and me. I went to the conference thinking I would not see many if any people I knew. I left hearing Leanna's voice in my ear, "You know everyone."

I visited with my local RWA Star sisters, too. It was good to connect with them, especially JoMarie DeGioia and Lee Duncan.

The most amazing moments were the God encounters - having opportunity to tell two women, one a major super star author, that God thought she was beautiful. The other, a young woman looking to one day be a major super start author who needed to hear Jesus was real and she could have assurance of faith.

Both Susie and I were up for the Rita Award for best inspirational fiction. I told Leanna during lunch, "I feel nervous like I'm going up on the stage."

But, I didn't have the same feeling about winning. Oh, I wanted to win. Prayed to win. But above all, I prayed to love the person who one with the love of Jesus.

Susie won the Rita. I walked to the stage with a broken shoe (let's not talk about the weekend's wardrob malfunctions) and accepted the award for her. The moment I hit the stage, my heart was overwhelmed with love and joy. Tears hit my eyes. My own disappointment was a thin, pale shadow on the far wall of my heart.

My "gold statuess" for me last Saturday night was what the Lord did in my heart. I'm not going to go into great detail, but let me just say sometimes the highest prize is not the obvious one. Saturday was Susie's night to win the Rita, but it was my night to have some thing deposited in my heart that will go far beyond this life. The Lord answered my prayer in a way I never imagined, then applied a thick layer of grace to keep it in place!

Sunday Jane, Nancy and I, along with an old friend of Jane's, toured the War Memorials in Washingtong. As Nancy and I walked the WW II memorial, we paused to take pictures, tearing up. Please, don't let their sacrifice be in vain!

I ate too much junk food. But who's counting? :)

If I left anyone out, please tell me! After all, I did know "everyone!" How can I keep them all straight.

I'm home now, ready to get to work on rewrites. Take time to thank the Lord for a blessing that you didn't expect. A friend. A family member. Speak graciously of someone who wronged you. Set your eyes on the prize of Christ Jesus!

How has the Lord blessed you in a way you didn't expect, but know it will linger throughout all of eternity?

The Changing World

Hubby and I were talking about communication in this Internet age and how easy it is for information to travel.

Do you know it used to take a decade for a book to cross a nation, a hundred years to cross a Continent?

In high school, a friend of mine traveled half way around the world to visit her dad in Australia. I remember thinking how incredible it was to travel so far. We had to communicate the old fashioned, snail mail way. I still have the stuff kola bear she brought me as a souvenir.

In the '80s, went to Australia twice. On the dawn of the information age, traveling to work on computers but only with my handy-dandy walkman to keep me company, I had to wake up at 4:00 a.m. to call work and check in, get help with problems.

Now I chat instantaneously to one of my good friends, book reviewer, Rel, who lives Down Under.

What a glorious way to spread the Good News of Jesus. Information on Him is readily available in cyberspace. There's almost no excuse any more.

Even if you don't believe in Him, you owe it to yourself to investigate. How can you not when Jesus is a Google away?

Makes me wonder what God is up to in this hour of history.

Recently a bunch of my family members got on Facebook. It's been fun catching up with cousins I haven't seen in years.

What about you? How has cyberspace changed your world? Good or bad?

Getting in the holiday spirit

It's not snowing outside, but I'm getting in the Christmas spirit. Of course, the last time it "snowed" in central Florida was '89 and I-75 turned into a parking lot.

We had a great Thanksgiving with my family in Knoxville. My mom's home is always so cozy and inviting. I inherited my aversion to over head lights from her. We like balance, warmth, ambiance.

It was good to see my 94 yr old Grandma and two of my brothers and my sister. (Middle bro, we missed you.)

Then there were the nieces and nephews! They are always fun and I enjoyed hanging out with them. They grow up so fast. My sister is unhappy with me however 

because I gave her two girls, 4 and 2, make up. They've come out of their room with heavily made up eyes more than once. And the four year old wanted to put on make up for pre school.

Oops.

The good news is she can't get me back!

After Knoxville, hubby and I spent a few days in Nashville. Had a great time. I met with my agency, Creative Trust, went to the Bluebird Cafe where Monty Powell (think Keith Urban hits), his wife Anna Wilson and country crooner Billy Dean played. Think "Somewhere in My Broken Heart."  I talked to them afterwards which is why the 'Bird is such a  great place.

Also had breakfast with my editor, Ami McConnell. She's amazing and I'm undone to be able to work with her. I learn so much every book and she's incredibly encouraging while being honest and helpful. Ami gets writers. After chatting and eats, I stopped by the Thomas Nelson office to say hi to the fiction team. Another fabulous group of people.

The trip home via Atlanta's airport was looong and confirming my distain for air travel as well as Atlanta's airport.

But, I'm not complaining. 2009 will consist of less and less Rachel Hauck complaining. Like really, what's the point? And it only sullies my heart and mind. One day when I stand before the Father, I'd like not to hear all my whining and complaining played back to me. Ack, can you imagine.

Even my thoughts! I think those ring louder in the heavens than my words. So, I'm capturing those bad-boys too.

Check in with in around March '09. I might have ceased to exist with all this restraining of complaining.

Well, enough. Must work on rewrites.

Thanksgiving memory

The fall of '76, we lived in Homestead, Florida. My parents had a large home group and we all gathered for Thanksgiving, outside, in the side yard of our house. There had to be thirty of us with kids and all.

I remember it was a breezy day with thick blue clouds hovering over us. And it was the day our family friend, Bill Hamilton, who's son Joe I crushed on for awhile, decided to teach me to drive stick shift in an old Chevy truck.

In those days, most stores were closed for the holiday but Bill was sent off to find cans of cranberry or something. I'd love to reminisce this story with him, but he's with Jesus now.

He invited me along. It's great to remember I had older male roll models besides my dad who cared for me in a fatherly way. We drove around a very quiet Homestead, streets deserted, looking for an open store. I think we finally found a Jiffy or 7-11 type.

On the way home, he said, "Want to drive?"

I didn't have my license, but I think Bill figured the population was tucked away with their own Thanksgiving celebrations and safe from any possible terror I might inflict.

I'd never driven before, let alone an old truck with a stick shift - three on the tree mind you, not four on the floor. We sat at one stop light for twenty minutes until I figured out the difference between reverse and second gear.

We finally ambled on home and I was all the wiser for having taking my first driving lesson on Thanksgiving day.

I have many wonderful Thanksgiving memories. This one happens to stand out to me.

Hubby and I spent most of the '90s celebrating with his family, and seems this past decade is a mix of his side and my side, and a few at home with friends.

I'm thankful for Jesus. The One who was, who Is and is to Come.

What are you thankful for this season?

08.08.08

On 7.7.'77, I was sixteen, working at Publix in Cutler Ridge, FL.

One of the bag boys, Ronny Paul, said today is 7.7.'77 and noted how many years it would be before we had 8.8.'88, and 9.9.'99 and now it's 8.8.08.

What's in a number anyway?

Here's what I wrote in my diary on July 7, '77.

"Today is 7,7,'77 - cute uh? When I woke up I kind of felt the twangs of leaving but soon under control. Spent the day packing and etc. LR's car broke down at the house and Steve Emmens and friend came to tow it away. Work was OK. Blocked down most of the night. Not much else. Love, Rachel -n- Pete."

We were moving in a few weeks to Tallahassee from Homestead. It was a sad yet good thing in my life, the family's life. LR is my friend Lorena Rastrick Sikking. Pete was my boyfriend at the time.

Today my life is very different. I'm not sixteen, I'm not living with my parents or facing a major move. I don't have two years of high school left, nor the years ahead of college and training that comes with growing up and becoming an adult.

But I knew God had a plan for me. If anything in my life has ever been blessed, on the right track or redeemed, it's because God had a plan for me.

My life is charmed in many ways. We're not rich, nor famous (though I did meet a reader last night and she actually was awe-struck for about ten seconds. Even Tony and her granddaughter noticed.)

We have missed out on the blessing of children, but are so cocooned in the heart and will of God I literally have no complaints. I am as Paul admonishes, "content." Well, minus the political landscape of my country, and the cultural war, but that's for another time.

I'm writing on a really fabulous project with a co-author and it's going so great, so far. We had a call yesterday with Thomas Nelson and when I hung up, I just thought, "Thank you, Lord. You are too good to me. This is truly unmerited favor."

Tonight we have a wedding, two former youth marrying. It'll be fun and I'm really happy for them.

Well, off to work some before wedding festivities.

A day at Cocoa Beach

Friend and author Susan May Warren is visiting for a few days before we head over to Orlando for a writer's retreat, and the beginning of International Christian Retail Show.

Yesterday, we buzzed around town - unfortunately it's raining so we can't put the top down - and went over to Melbourne Beach, then up A1A to Cocoa Beach to Ron Johns, and walking in the sand.

It's been fun. We talk writing and MyBookTherapy, and about God and faith. How great Jesus is to us.

Then we stopped by my friend's who made a trailer for Love Starts With Elle. It's loading to You Tube as we speak. He made an animated Elle and we "converse."

Stay tuned for more on the trailer.

I crack myself up...

For reason I'll keep to myself, I'm reading my old diaries. I gotta tell you, if you're a teenager or have a teenager, please, keep a diary or tell them to keep a diary.

I love pulling out my diaries and reading them. I laugh out loud every other page. I kept them for seventeen years and after I got married, moved more to prayer and spiritual journaling. Although, my tossed up diary prayers like, "Oh, God, please let him ask me out," could be considered spiritual. A-hem.

This from April 13, '77.

"Oh, guess what? Partner (a nickname for a co-worker) told me Mr. Fisher (Publix manager, name changed to protect the innocent) is being transfered, even demoted! I 'bout died. There goes the ole ball game."

ROFLOL. What sixteen year old writes, "there goes the ole ball game." In 1977. Too, too funny. Okay, maybe you had to be there. Maybe you have to be me, but I think it's funny.

What I've been up 2

So, you're wondering, "Rach, do you blog any more or are we just supposed to imagine what your life is all about?"

No indeedy, you're not. Please don't. I'm blogging, see, I'm blogging.

I've been busy, too. Working on a new synopsis for next book, working title Dining with Joy. How do you like it?

I'm reviving my celebrity "chef" idea. Only she's not so much a chef... Stay tuned. Susie Warren and I really hashed out the story this week with me pausing to get input from the lovely and gracious Ami McConnell, editor extraordinaire.

Tonight we had this whole story worked out, Suz and I giving each other a thousand mile apart high fives when I go, "Wait, we can't do that scenario. I've already done it."

I took a break to think and asked the Lord for an idea and ta-da, it came! God is so good. Called Suz to run it by her, check for holes, then called Ami and she said, "Sounds good. I like it." And I'm off to rework the synopsis. Yay!

Note to all you writers out there. If you are reworking a story from a previous synopsis. Don't. Just start over. It's too hard to reset the tone of the new or modified work. The more you try to edit from an existing synopsis, the more convoluted the story becomes.

***

Fire Dweller prayer was fab tonight. I love, love leading worship with Javier. We get this rhythm going, back and forth with antiphonal songs, weaving them in with the prayers being offered.

He was doing some jazzy stuff on the guitar tonight that was really good. He's so incredibly talented.

I love the flow of the Spirit between us. And that he's a good friend, a true brother.

***

Off to bed with a growling stomach, but I weigh in tomorrow for Weight Watchers. Must be good.

***

I love my husband. He's the absolute best. Just felt like adding that line on tonight. I can't begin to put into words what an amazing man he is. I am so very grateful to the Lord for him!

My barking dogs

And I don't mean my feet. Hahaha, get it. "My dogs are barking..."

Well, okay, never mind.

My dog, dogs, you know them Pal and Lola, bark. Yep. Not all the time, but Pal lays by the front window looking out, then goes berserk when something goes by: another dog, a person on a bike way, way down the road, the school bus, and the piece de resistance (snicker,) a squirrel.

Yet when Lola first moved in with us two months ago. She didn't bark at things passing by the window. No siree Bob, she didn't. But Pal taught her. Nice doggy.

She has this shrill kind of bark that makes my heart pound. But I'm so happy she's participating in family traditions, I hardly mind.

When I open the back door from them to run out and bark, Lola fires into the yard with Pal, rou-rou-rouing away.

Pal looks at her, she looks up at him, "Isn't this fun?"

They are good friends. Nothing like the turmoil with Jack and Pal. I couldn't have handled  another second of that gig.

Pal seems to endure Lola, if not appreciate her at times.

Red, on the other hand, is still an ornery cat and behaves as if all the world is his on a silver platter.

Off to Fire Dweller. Got to fill those "bowls!" Rev 8

 

Behind the Scenes 2: Sweet Caroline

I didn't get a good, good start on Sweet Caroline until December. Between October and November, I had a lot of starts and throw-aways.

Here's one:

My grandfather Rainier and I had a tradition. The day after Thanksgiving he'd come by our house around four in the afternoon and take me to the Frogmore Cafe for a hot bowl of Frogmore Stew.
"I had enough turkey, Posey," he said to my mother, patting his belly. "I need some low country boil."
He glanced down at me with a wink. I was six and the baby of the family. Still am in some ways, I suppose. "Care to go with me, Caroline?"
"Momma, please?" I hopped off the stool and hugged up next to Pop's leg. A retired Marine, he carried a certain authority, commanded deep respect.
I heard Daddy talk about him with the men standing in the front yard after church, smoking cigarettes. It's where I first heard the words Nazi and the big war.
But to me Pop was my best friend. Like we were cut from the same cloth sixty-six years apart.
"Jessup, you’ll spoil her." Momma flattened her hands against her hips, shaking her head. "Now, Caroline, if-"
I ran for my sweater.
Momma followed us all the way to the drive way. "Now remember, she's only six. Don't get talking to Jones and forget she's sitting there. Remember little pitchers have big ears-"
That pulled Pop up short. "Sakes alive, Posey, I'm seventy-two, not addled."
Momma sucked in her bottom lip and wrinkled her nose. I didn't know what addled meant but it sure shut Momma up. Grandpa took my hand and smiled down at me.
"Guess that did it."
Pop’s friend, Jones Whitmore, owned the Frogmore Cafe, a converted nineteenth century home facing the Beaufort River. The old sweeping veranda creaked when we stepped up, but the Frogmore was warm and cozy. Even at six, I felt enveloped by the atmosphere. Low sounds, low lights, wonderful smells.

Here's another start and stop.

The wind carries a wintery chill as it blows through the live oaks, catching up the Spanish moss in an easy, melancholy dance. A few stubborn dry leaves, lacking the courage to fall to the ground, rattle against the side of the veranda's roof.
Propping myself against the porch railing, I cradled a For Sale sign to my chest, feeling my heart beat against the tips of my fingers. Some of my best childhood memories happened in this place, The Frogmore Cafe.
Through the moss and barren trees, I watch the Beaufort River flow gently toward the Atlantic, diamonds of sunlight lingering along the water's surface.
The cafe door opens behind me, then claps shut. My father's broad hand presses down on my shoulder.
"Well, Caroline, how's it feel?"
"Weird." My entire body is conflicted with swirls of anxiety and excitement.
He bends forward so his hands rest on the railing and gazes toward the river. "It's going to be a lot of work."
I bob my head, once. "Can't imagine it not."
Dad looks over his shoulder at me. "You’ve never run a cafe slash restaurant."
"No, but I'm a good business woman, Dad."
"Until Parker stole your business out from under you." He shift his gaze back to the river. "You're too trusting, Caroline."
"Your confidence in me is exhilarating."
Dad dips his head with a chuckle. "I'd feel better if I knew you could manage the back half of the restaurant." His ton is gentle, but laced with a warning. "Never will forget that call from the high school principal."
"I was there, Dad, remember?"
"'Hank, Caroline is a fine student, but we just can't keep her in home econ...'"
His laugh burst from his chest with a deep resonance. "A fire. Of all things. A home ec kitchen fire."
"How was I supposed to know the cherries and cinnamon would spill over on to the baking element and ignite?"
"Come on, Kit, surely you see the irony." He motions behind him toward the once-tabby exterior of the nineteenth century home that was now my cafe. "Pop filled your head with a bunch of dreams."
"Tony's coming to help me."
Dad tips his head to one side making a clicking sound with his teeth. "I don't mean to be a downer, but are you sure that's a good plan?"
"Absolutely. He's a great chef. Experienced."
"Got fired from his last job for insubordination, I believe?"
There are no secrets in Beaufort, South Carolina. What happens in Atlanta, or Charleston, or Savannah is breathed around here in soft whispers.
"He didn't get along with the executive chef." I face my father. "Do you think I can do this or not?"
Dad slips his hands in the pockets of his khaki slacks and starts down the steps. "I've always said you could rule the world Caroline. You could rule the world."
I run after him. "Except for?"
"You lead with your heart. It's like a big welcoming matt for the down trodden and the users. Even Jesus walked away from the insincere."
"I have to do this, for myself, if for no other reason. No guts, no glory."
Dad stops by my car parked along Bay Street. He pats the cherry red door with the palm of his hand. "Pop's old '65 Mustang. Still running."

Finally, at the beginning of January, I'm closer to what would be the final product.

My life changed the day a man died. The day I sat in morning traffic on Hwy 21, the spring sky promising to be blue, while the Beaufort River draw bridge slowly swung closed.
The day the carburetor of my old '68 Mustang convertible sputtered and choked, then died right there on the bridge with a hundred cars in line behind me.
The day I arrived late for work at the Frogmore Cafe to find everyone milling around in red-eyed, stunned disbelief.
The day Daddy told me he was finally marrying his long time girlfriend, Posey, and I had to move out of the house. Was two months enough time? Yes, if I had money.
The day God heard me whisper a simple question, "Hey, I don't know if you're really there, but if you are, could you dig in your bag of goodies and find a life for me?"
***
Two months. That's all it takes for my broken down jalopy quit on me again just as I exit the bridge and turn left onto Bay Street. I mashed in the clutch and gunned the gas to keep it from dying completely - and to save face with the line of cars behind me - and send a vapor of black smoke out the exhaust.
So fitting that I inherited this heap from my mother. Thank you, Sarah Sweeney, wherever you are.
The carburetor sputters and chokes and the 'Stang hesitates, then lurches forward. Come on, come on. I ride the clutch, gun the gas and aim for an open parallel parking slot in front of as I inch over to the side of the street, barely slipping into a handicap spot in front of Rhett Gallery.
The engine rattles and shakes. And dies. I jerk my bag to my lap from the passenger seat, muttering soap worthy words, and dig around for my cell phone.
As I auto dial Daddy, a siren and blue lights blip beside me. "Can't park here, Caroline."
I don't even look over. Dang J.D. Think I don't know I can't park in the handicap spot? "Car's broke down, give me a minute."
"Caroline?" JD inches the squad car forward and blips the siren again.
Go out with a Sheriff once and he thinks he owns you. I peek over at him. "I'm calling Daddy."
"I can radio in a tow truck for you." Sheriff JD holds up his handset.
Shaking my head, I point to the phone, "Daddy can fix the car. Besides, no money for a tow."
"Don't worry about that, now."
Oh no. Rule number one of lowcountry dating. Don't be indebted to a man who claims he's loved you since fifth grade and grows up to carry a gun for a living.
"Yeah, Caroline." Daddy's voice booms into my ear.
"Help." I wince. "She broke down again."
"Where?" Sigh. "I told you to get rid of that thing."
"And buy what? With what? I'm in front of Rhett's." With my best smile, I give JD a thumbs up. He can move on now.
But he doesn't.

***
Originally, I thought Caroline would not work at the Cafe and discover she inherited it. Then I wrote a couple of scenes with that in mind and the story did not feel real to me. The conflict was not genuine enough.

Now, I pray a lot while writing. Pray for God to write His story through me. I think a lot about my characters, analyze each scene, questioning it's relevance and importance. Is the scene contributing, or redundant? Is there enough tension? Why should the reader care about these characters?

I just didn't feel like I was getting the story right. One night, as I went to bed I asked the Lord for a dream to help me understand the story I needed to write.

He answered.

The gist? Write the story as if Caroline worked at the Cafe, but instead of it being a fancy place, make it a run down Cafe. Then there was the part about Tom Cruise making a movie in Beaufort, but I cut that part.

So, on January eight, I started the story over. While I used a lot of material I already had, but nevertheless, I was starting over.

I wrote and wrote and wrote and wrote. Long days, long nights. The book was due March 1 and on February 17th, I sat in my chair and wrote for fifteen hours to finish the book.

Tony was reading and offering input, then a friend was critiquing. The Saturday before it was due, she wrote, "I think you need to add a thread to up the conflict."

What? How? Where? Now? I freaked. I only had five days. How could I create more conflict and tension in five days? I was up until midnight writing. Then up again at 3:00 a.m. trying to rewrite.

I managed to crawl into church, a zombie. Thank goodness I wasn't leading worship. But on that day, my friend Jesus began to really show Himself strong.

Sunday

I'm in the Memphis airport waiting to board a flight for Atlanta. Christine Lynxwiler and her hubby drove Susan Downs and I to the airport from Arkansas.

We had a good weekend together. The Word Book Store owner took great care of us, putting us up in a bed and breakfast, bringing breakfast. We were able to pray with him and his fiance before we left.

Other than a good time brainstorming and signing books, I learned from my dear friends I "eat like a linebacker."

I wasn't sure what that meant, but I it's supposed to be a compliment. We laughed about it.

I've been so busy I haven't spent much time with my friend Jesus lately. I plan to remedy that next week. AND, get back to the gym. I need to work out... My muscles are screaming.

A Writer's Retreat and book signing

I'm in Arkansas at After Words book store and cafe with Christine Lynxwiler, Tracey Bateman, Susie Warren and Susan Downs. 

We had a day of writing talk and brainstorming, then a day of a writing workshop and book signing. 

We are having a great time, hanging out and getting to know the great people in Hardy. The book store owner is very gracious and excited about authors. 

I'm on the other side of a dog-tired. This has been a hectic few weeks. Working on Love Starts With Elle rewrites, an ACFW board meeting in Minneapolis, then coming here. It's been fun, but busy.

Next week? Sleep and reading, catching up on a few things that need to get done. Hubby wants to do some de-junking and get ready for a garage sale. I'm all for it. We've lived in our house for ten years now and it's time to get rid of some stuff.

Lola is doing great, btw. Pal is getting along with her although Red the cat is wondering what little grey beast is napping with his "human."

Grace and peace. More later.

 

Out with friends

My last roommate before marrying hubby, Renee, turned forty this month. I couldn't let the day go by without celebrating, so we went to Carrabbas last night with two other friends.

I met Renee right after she graduated from Clemson. We didn't click right away, but as she worked with the youth, we became friends and decided to share an apartment. My sister and another former youth also lived with us.

We became fast friends. Renee would invite my future hubby over all the time for dinner or ice cream - even though we were trying not to spend so much time together. Our opposing views of our relationship were getting old. ;)

Renee is one of those forever friends. Do you have one of those? After she got married and had kids, our lives drifted apart some. She focused on being a mom, I focused on, well, me.

Ha! Just kidding. I focused on what the Lord called me to do.

But no matter how many days and months went by, even years, we could pick up the phone at any time and talk - open, honest, in love.

We had such a great time at dinner, as we gathered in the parking lot for the final goodbyes, Renee said, "Hey, let's do this on the fourth Friday of all the even months."

Yes! Let's. Even if one can't make it, the others will get together. I'm so excited! A regular girls night. Woo hoo.

I'm not much of a girlfriend addict. But lately, I've felt trapped in a friendless hole and have been praying to get out. As I've become more acquainted with the writing world, most of my friends are writers who live all over the country. I love them dearly, but a Friday night out would be costly!

Yet, I have to confess. Only writers get writers. I'm not sure what it is, but the moment I start talking about writing with non-writing friends, it's like they hear me and or interested, but their gaze is one of "oh, isn't that nice?"

I'd get more excitement out of telling them I bought new shoes. ;)

In other news, working on Love Starts With Elle edits. I love this story, but it needed some tweaking. So it's fun to do the fixing up.

Grace, grace to you all.

Please welcome my friend and author Susan Meissner. I've known Susan for a few years now and love her heart and spirit. She's a beautiful, fabulous woman in love with Jesus. Check out her latest release.

Blue Heart Blessed

Left standing at the altar, Daisy Murien, a wounded but hopeful romantic, opens a secondhand wedding dress boutique, hoping to soothe her broken heart while giving doomed wedding dresses a second chance at love.

Her predictable days take a sharp turn, though, when the retired Episcopal priest who blesses the tiny, blue satin heart she sews into each dress falls ill.

When the priest's brooding and recently divorced son arrives with plans to take his ailing father away, a contest of wills begins between two stubborn - and hurting - souls.

While fighting to keep Father Laurent close by, Daisy finally begins to understand why she has routinely convinced potential buyers not to buy the one gown that started her business - her own.

She doesn't want to give up on the dream of a fairytale romance. This compelling story is about the magnificence of unconditional love and God's impeccable timing in bringing it about.

Publisher's Weekly said this about Blue Heart Blessed:

"Meissner tells her story well, and her Christian themes are interwoven throughout with a deft touch. Readers will appreciate some fresh elements: an Ecuadorian couple that cooks for the apartment dwellers every Sunday, and the one gown in Daisy's inventory she does not want to sell.

The ending is well told if conventional, with all the loose ends neatly tied up, which should please fans of "happily ever after" romance novels."

Romantic Times gave it 4½ stars and chose it for one of their Top Picks for February:

"Meissner's unique story is a treat. It's filled with realistic, wounded characters who rely on God's grace and guidance to see them through. Themes of learning to trust God and waiting for His perfect timing exude warmth and love."

Where did this story idea come from?

I was on a long car ride with a friend one afternoon a couple years ago. She had just seen her roommate's wedding dress and she was describing it to me. It sounded so beautiful. I said something like, "It's kind of a shame such a lovely dress will only be worn once."

As soon as those words were out of my mouth, a story began to bloom in my head about a woman who opens a boutique and sells second-hand wedding dresses.

I began to imagine what kind of woman would open a shop like that and by the time we got to our destination, I had a title for this book, my quirky character Daisy, and a reason why she can’t seem to sell the one dress that began it all.

And I knew this would be a story about waiting on God for true love - that is, love that is true.

I've got a great blog started that will dovetail nicely with this book. The blog, called Blue Heart Blessed by the way, will feature stories, ideas, op-ed pieces, poems, jokes, lists, you name it, on quirky engagements, second chances at love, proposals, laughable wedding stories and the like.

I'd love to hear from readers and writers alike, especially if they've a story to share. Here's the web address:

Published by Harvest House, Blue Heart Blessed will release on February 1.

Home for Christmas

A couple of "our girls" came for Christmas, Carrie and Elizabeth.

The slumbered in the guest room and it was fun and pleasant to have them here. One lives in D.C., the other in Tallahassee.

This season, Tony and I learned a new game, Carcassonne. It's a "board" game with puzzle like pieces where the players build cities, fields and roads.

Each player claims one of the above and earns points for completing a city or road, or possessing a field.

We play the game at night in about 30 minutes. It's fun. We used to play Scrabble and Pente, so this game is a fun addition.

One afternoon we were sitting in the living room and a thump resounded from the window. Pal barked and barked. Finally I went out to see what caused his concern.

I found a small grey bird in the front bed. Poor little thing broke his neck on impact. I picked him up and tried to pray life (yes, I did) back into him.

He actually fluttered and I thought I might be holding a miracle in my palm. Hey, if I can pray a bird back to life, I'll try people next. But, it just his nerves releasing energy. He's in birdy heaven.

Be sure to pop over to MyBookTherapy where we're spending a year with a hero!

The 12 Authors of Christmas Tour!

Hey y'all!

Starting tomorrow, December 1st, I'm hosting " The 12 Authors of Christmas." Stop by each day to read Christmas memories and traditions of your favorite authors, and perhaps a few new-to-you authors.

I'll be hosting the first half of December with the lovely and gracious Tricia Goyer hosting the last half of the month and the sweet and smiling Camy Tang running overlap mid month on her site.

We even have a few bonus authors* on the tour.

Look forward to celebrating cyber Christmas with you all.

Here's the line up

Dec 1 - Colleen Coble
Dec 2 - Kathryn Mackle
Dec 3 - Janelle Scheinder
Dec 4 - Deb Raney
Dec 5 - Gayle Roper
Dec 6 - Kristen Heitzmann
Dec 7 - Terri Blackstock
Dec 8 - DiAnn Mills
Dec 9 - Jill Nelson
Dec 10 - Donita Paul
Dec 11 - Marlo Schalesky
Dec 12 - Linda Hall
Dec 13 - Gail Martin*
Dec 14 - Tricia Goyer!*

On the 13th, hop over to Tricia's site for the next round. Here's the line up.

December 13 -- Linda Ford

December 14 -- Rachel Hauck

December 15 -- Camy Tang

December 16 -- Bonnie Leon

December 17 -- Tamara Leigh

December 18 -- Kim Sawyer

December 19 -- Roxanne Henke

December 20 -- Rene Gutteridge

December 21 -- Nancy Moser

December 22 -- Susan Meissner

December 23 -- Karen Ball

December 24 -- Neta Jackson

December 25 -- Maureen Lang
*Bonus* Mindy Clark