Writer’s Window and Fab Feb Book Drawing Winners!
The winner of Miralee Ferrell’s book Love Finds You in Tombstone, Arizona from
last week’s Writer’s Window feature is:
Pam Kellogg
The winner of Love Remains and The Art of Romance is:
April Erwin
The winner of Ransome’s Crossing and Ransome’s Quest is:
Lady DragonKeeper
Fun Friday–What Punctuation Are You?
It’s been a busy week, so you’ll have to forgive me for copping out today and posting a Blogthings quiz.
Go take the quiz and then come back and post your answer! Is it right? Wrong?
|
You Are a Comma |
 You are open minded and extremely optimistic. You enjoy almost all facets of life. You can find the good in almost anything. You keep yourself busy with tons of friends, activities, and interests. Your friends find you fascinating, charming, and easy to talk to. You excel in: Inspiring people You get along best with: The Question Mark |
I don’t know about the whole “open minded” bit and the “extremely optimistic” part couldn’t be further from the truth. As for the rest of it . . . pretty close to the mark.
It’ll be interesting to find out who’s a question mark to see with whom I’m supposed to get along best! 😀
Thursday Thought Provoker
Debunking Writing Myths: “Eliminate ALL Adverbs”
Eliminate every single adverb from your writing because adverbs are bad, bad, bad.
.
.
Though adverbs should be used sparingly, sometimes you do actually need them.
.
First, let’s define what an adverb truly is:
An adverb is a word used to modify, or qualify, a verb (or verbal), an adjective, or another adverb. It usually answers one of these questions: When? Where? How? Why? Under what conditions? To what degree?
Adverbs modifying adjectives or other adverbs usually intensify or limit the intensity of the word they modify. . . . . The negators not and never are classified as adverbs. A word such as cannot contains the helping verb can and the adverb not. . . .
Adverbs can modify prepositions (Helen left just before midnight), prepositional phrases (The budget is barely on target), subordinate clauses (We will try to attend, especially if you will be there), or whole sentences (Certainly Joe did not intend to insult you).
Many adverbs are formed by adding –ly to adjectives (normal–normally; smooth–smoothly). But don’t assume that all words ending in –ly are adverbs or that all adverbs end in –ly. Some adjectives end in –ly (lovely, friendly) and some adverbs don’t (always, here, there). When in doubt, consult a dictionary.
(From The Bedford Handbook, Fifth Edition, by Diana Hacker)
Something I have been known to do when critiquing, editing, or judging contest entries is, upon opening the document, doing a universal search for ly and highlighting every instance of it throughout the document.
Why? Not because adverbs are bad words, but because an overreliance on adverbs is a sign of weak writing and insufficient revision. Unlike any other word-group in the English language, adverbs have a way of pointing themselves out—because the majority of them do end in –ly. (And then there are our other little favorites just and very.)
I’ve discussed, at length, using adverbs in embellished dialogue tags here.
One of the main reasons we don’t want to rely on adverbs in our writing is that adverbs tell rather than show. To pull an example from that post on dialogue tags:
- Kelly answered hoarsely, coughing from the powder the airbag had released.
Kelly’s throat stung and scratched, and she coughed, unable to get the nasty, metallic-tasting powder from the airbag out of her windpipe.
Which sentence tells and which sentence shows?
We usually use adverbs because we’ve chosen a weak verb or because we haven’t taken the time to sit down with a thesaurus and look for a better, stronger verb. For example:
- He spoke clearly.
becomes
He enunciated.
This example shows how inexact adverbs can be—and how they can begin to slow down the action of the story. Have a chase scene in your story? Which would you rather use?
- He ran fast.
or
He galloped.
(In this case, the verb not only indicates speed but manner—you could also use sprinted or even He hit the pavement at Warp 9 and never looked back.)
In general . . . it is nouns and verbs, not their assistants [adjectives and adverbs], that give to good writing
its toughness and color.
The Elements of Style
While you can’t get rid of every single adverb in your writing (and just taking the –ly off the end of the word doesn’t stop it from being an adverb; that just gives you poor grammar), do the highlight test, just as we did with was and had two weeks ago. (Add a [space] after the ly when you do your search, and that way, it’ll find only those at the ends of words—except for those at the ends of sentences; it will highlight words like family, but those are easy enough to ignore.) And if you start seeing several on a page, like this:
it’s probably time to pull out the thesaurus and start choosing some more descriptive verbs and making your writing stronger! But before you go through and eliminate all of them . . . you also don’t want to replace your adverbial phrases with words that the reader isn’t going to know or understand. When you’re going through the thesaurus to find a stronger verb to use, don’t use one that you have to look up in the dictionary—and don’t use one that isn’t natural for your voice as a writer. Most can be replaced, but not all need to be.
Writer’s Window–Miralee Ferrell
Joining us today for Writer’s Window is romance author Miralee Ferrell.
One lucky commenter* will win a signed copy of Miralee’s latest book, Love Finds You in Tombstone, Arizona. Deadline for leaving a comment to enter the drawing is Friday. To enter the drawing, you must answer the question posed by Miralee at the end of the interview. Only one comment per person will count toward the drawing. You do not need to include your e-mail address in the body of your comment—just make sure it’s correct when you sign in to leave your comment. The winning name will be drawn and announced on Sunday.
- *U.S. residents only, void where prohibited. If you win the drawing, you will be ineligible for the next three drawings, though hopefully you will still come back and join in the discussion.
__________________________________________________________
In a town where dreams are buried, does love stand a chance?
Love and second chances aren’t easy to come by in a town named Tombstone. When Christy Grey receives an urgent summons to Tombstone, Arizona, she reluctantly leaves her new life in California. The trip goes from bad to worse when four masked men hold up Christy’s stage. She finally arrives in Tombstone to find her mother ill and her brother trapped in a life of gambling. Desperate for money to support her family, will Christy bow to pressure from the local saloon owners and return to the life she thought she’d given up for good?
Nevada King has problems of his own. He’s been dodging bullets for years and wants nothing more than to settle down. But he’s on the run from outlaws bent on revenge, and the one woman who captures his interest recognizes him from the stagecoach holdup. Will Christy turn Nevada in to the authorities, or will the outlaws on his trail catch him first?
Welcome, Miralee!
What do you like best about being a writer?
- Interacting with the readers. I love discovering that one of my books has ministered to someone’s heart and I’m always so blessed when a reader takes the time out of their busy life to email me, or posts on Facebook to share.
What do you like least about being a writer?
- This is easy: Coming up with new story ideas. Once I have one, I can write it, but finding something unique and fresh is so difficult for me. I attribute it to starting my fiction career so late in life—after 50—I think many of my creative brain cells had already rolled over and played dead for too long. 🙂
Pop, Soda, or Coke? What do you call it, and what’s your favorite variety?
- Here in the N.W. we call it pop, and definitely PEPSI!! Although I’ve almost totally weaned myself from drinking pop as I wanted to lose weight and knew that was a big issue for me. I still allow myself to have an occasional glass as a treat, but am careful how much I drink.
What’s your favorite dessert?
- Oh, right now, just about anything with sugar, LOL! I’m on the last 3 days of a strict no-sugar diet and the thought of dessert is enough to tip me over the edge. But I LOVE Black Forest Cake—if you don’t know what that is, it’s rich chocolate cake with real whipped cream for the frosting and filling, and a cherry filling (with real cherries) between layers. Yum!!
What’s the most fun/interesting/crazy/scary/unique hands-on research you’ve done for a book?
- This is a hard one, as I don’t think I’ve done anything scary or unique yet. I got to ride in a stagecoach (a real one) for my Tombstone, Arizona, research. Also, my hubby and I drove two and a half hours up and down steep mountain canyons to reach the ghost town site of Last Chance, CA. We located the 150-year-old cemetery and found cedar posts set in a square formation, where we believe the livery stable or blacksmith shop would’ve been (they had square nails that date back to pre-1880).
What’s your favorite movie from childhood?
- I had to think about this for a while—I loved The Sound of Music, because my choir teacher in the 7th grade made us learn every song that year, and it was fun to watch the movie and be able to sing along with it—but I also loved the characters and plot, and have seen it several times over the years. Oh—and a close second was The Wizard of Oz.
What makes you happy?
- Spending time with my family, especially my two married kids. Our son lives some distance away, but our daughter and husband own the property adjoining ours. She and I are best friends and often go to lunch together, and ride our horses together in the spring, summer, and fall. Family time is such a blessing and I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.
What makes you nervous?
- Heights—getting too close to the edge of a cliff or working on a roof.
What’s your biggest dream for the future?
- I have a number of them, but I’ll keep this writing related rather than family or financial. (Although on the financial, to be completely debt free and able to freely travel with my hubby would be a huge dream come true!) But writing related, to see one of my books on a bestseller list would be awesome. Also, The Other Daughter (my debut contemporary novel) was being considered as a movie by a major motion picture studio. I’d love to see that happen someday!
Tell us about your newest release and what you’re working on now.
- Love Finds You in Tombstone, Arizona released February 1, this year. I’d have to say it’s my favorite book so far. Partly because it’s more of a true western romance with a lot of action, but also because it contains deep characterizations and a strong spiritual thread. The other reason I love this book is because Summerside allowed me the liberty to use a strong secondary character from LFY in Last Chance, California, my first book with them, and carry her (Christy Grey) forward into this book. I got a lot of reader input about Christy and wanted to write her story. The book has a strong redemption theme, somewhat along the same type of line as Redeeming Love by Francine Rivers (although not at all the same story line), and I loved writing it. I also do a lot of historical research to make my books as realistic as I can, and all my Love Finds You books have a number of actual events and/or real people/businesses, etc., that appear woven into the story. I always give 2-3 pages of author notes at the end sharing what’s real and what I did in the way of research. But don’t read it first, they often contain spoilers!
I’ll be able to announce my next release with Summerside very soon—it’s a few days premature for that, but let’s just say watch the blogs during the month of July for news about a new release hitting the shelves August first of this year. It’s fully written and due to be turned in soon, but the details aren’t quite final yet to make an announcement. Coming soon on my blog and FB reader’s group, so be watching!
- Be sure to look for Miralee’s previous LFY book, Love Finds You in Last Chance, California:
It’s 1877 and Alexia Travers is alone in the world. Her father has died unexpectedly, leaving her burdened with a heavily mortgaged horse ranch. Marrying one of the town’s all-too-willing bachelors would offer an easy solution, but Alex has no interest in marriage. Instead, she dons men’s clothing and rides the range, determined to make the ranch a success on her own. But despite Alex’s best efforts, everything seems to go wrong: ranch hands quit, horses are stolen, and her father’s gold goes missing. Help arrives when Justin Phillips, an acquaintance of her father’s, comes to Last Chance with his young son. There seems to be more to Justin’s story than he’s willing to share.
But when disaster threatens Travers Ranch, they must work together to save someone they both love. Can these two independent people learn to depend on God—and on each other?
Where can people find out more about you/connect with you online?
- Facebook: www.facebook.com/miralee
Website: www.miraleeferrell.com (you can find pictures of our research trips to the historical locations, my journey into writing, family pics and info about my books here)
Blog: www.miraleesdesk.blogspot.com (I do occasional book give aways for my book & other authors, as well as random posts on daily life and my upcoming books)
Now it’s your turn to ask the question. What question do you want to ask the commenters to answer?
- Actually, I’d LOVE to have them come up with some unique questions for me!! But if they can’t think of any, I’d like to know if they think the day of the western novel has died, or is just being resurrected? There’s been a huge push for Amish novels, and ‘gentle prairie romance’ books. Do they think books with more ‘old west adventure’ (more along the lines of a Zane Grey book) is something current day readers would buy/like?
__________________________________________________________
Miralee Ferrell serves as president of the Portland, Oregon, chapter of American Christian Fiction Writers and belongs to a number of writer’s groups. She also speaks at women’s groups, libraries, and churches about her writing journey.
Her third book in the Love Finds You series—set in Tombstone, Arizona—released February 1. All the Love Finds You books are stand-alone novels, and take place in a real town in America. Miralee’s first two are set in 1877, Love Finds You in Last Chance, California, and 1902, Love Finds You in Bridal Veil, Oregon.
Miralee and her husband Allen have been married thirty-six years. They live on eleven acres in the beautiful Columbia River Gorge where they love to garden, play with their dogs, take walks, and go sailing. Miralee also rides her horse on the wooded trails near their home with her grown daughter who lives nearby.
Writer’s Window and Fab Feb Book Drawing Winners!
The winner of Leslie Gould’s book The Amish Midwife from
last week’s Writer’s Window feature is:
MaDonna
The winner of Love Remains and The Art of Romance is:
Rebekah
The winner of Ransome’s Crossing and Ransome’s Quest is:
Sherrinda
Fun Friday–Sneak Peek at RANSOME’S QUEST
As promised last week, this month, I’m giving you sneak peeks at my two summer releases (and two of the books I’m giving away in the FabFeb contest). Last week, we previewed The Art of Romance. Which must mean it’s time to take a peek inside of Ransome’s Quest today. (Are you sitting comfortably? Do you have a cup of coffee? Because this is going to be a long one . . .)
*****SPOILER ALERT*****
If you haven’t read Ransome’s Crossing this may spoil the ending of that book for you. You may not want to read this post until you’ve finished reading Ransome’s Crossing.
_______________________________________________
Ransome’s Quest
Book Three of the Ransome Trilogy
ISBN-13: 978-0-7369-2755-0
Harvest House Publishers, Inc.
© Copyright 2011 by Kaye Dacus
Prologue
No moon. Wispy clouds hid most of the stars. He could not have asked for a more perfect night. Before him, the house glowed like a lantern atop the hill. Behind him, his men waited for his command.
. . . . .Julia Witherington was back in Jamaica. Finally. The pirate paused a moment, trying to count the years—the ages, the epochs—he had been on the quest to strike back at Admiral Sir Edward Witherington.
. . . . .Julia was married—and had brought her husband here with her. The inimitable Commodore William Ransome. The admiral’s favorite; the man he’d taken publicly in hand as son long before Ransome married the admiral’s daughter. The one man in the world the pirate hated almost as much as the admiral.
. . . . .He smiled. The commodore would ensure word reached Sir Edward of his daughter’s abduction.
. . . . .Movement caught his attention and honed his focus on the house. He turned, maintaining his crouched position. “Remember, men, no killing—especially the navy officer. The woman is mine. No one is to harm her. Is that understood?”
. . . . . “Aye, Cap’n,” his men whispered back.
. . . . .The pirate turned to face the house again. It seemed he had awaited this moment his entire life. The rules of engagement were about to change.
* * *
“There is one thing you are forgetting.”
. . . . .Ned Cochrane pressed himself farther into the shadows at the man’s voice. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop. He meant only to protect the reputation—and person—of Charlotte Ransome.
. . . . . “What is that?” Charlotte’s voice fluttered toward him on the breeze.
. . . . . “This.”
. . . . .At her slight whimper of protest, Ned stepped forward. Henry Winchester, steward of the Tierra Dulce sugar plantation, held Charlotte by the shoulders, his mouth crushed against hers. She unsuccessfully pushed against the man’s chest.
. . . . .Before Ned could make his presence known, Charlotte stopped struggling. Winchester’s grasp loosened. Charlotte brought her heel down on Winchester’s foot and then sent her fist into his midsection.
. . . . .Winchester groaned and staggered back, arms around his stomach, hopping on one foot. “What was that for?”
. . . . .Charlotte swiped the back of her hand across her mouth. “For taking liberties that are not yours to take.”
. . . . .Ned took that as his cue to step into the situation. He fought to keep his expression stern, his tone serious, wanting to smile over Charlotte’s ability to handle herself in any situation. “Is everything all right here?”
. . . . .The dim light coming down the wide porch that circumnavigated the large house illuminated Charlotte’s face. She smiled broadly at him. “Aye—yes, Captain Cochrane. Mr. Winchester and I were clearing up a little misunderstanding.” She stepped toward Henry Winchester. “Mr. Winchester, I am going to take you up on your promise to release me from our engagement. I have had a change of heart.” She glanced over her shoulder at Ned. “In fact, I love someone else and wish to marry him.”
. . . . .Ned’s heart swelled in his chest—filling his throat and pounding into his head. Charlotte loved him. She wanted to marry him. It was all he could do not to break into the jig the sailing master aboard Audacious demonstrated every evening during the crew’s free time.
. . . . .Winchester stopped groaning and hopping. His expression hardened as he looked between Charlotte and Ned. “We shall see about that. You agreed to marry me, Miss Ransome. Which means your legacy is mine for the claiming.”
. . . . .Charlotte rubbed her lips together and then cocked her head. “You are more than welcome to take your case to my brother. It is he who controls my dowry, and it is he who never had knowledge of or gave permission for our ill-advised engagement. I am certain he will be happy to come to terms with you. But pray, do not plague me with your attentions any longer. I know you do not love me. I know you want only my money. Therefore, we have nothing further to say to one another.”
. . . . .Henry gave them one more malevolent look and then stalked off into the darkness.
. . . . . “Now I understand.” Ned leaned against the porch railing and crossed his arms. As she was now the one backlit, Ned could not make out her expression. He tried to keep his own face neutral, inscrutable—the way her brother, his commanding officer, did so well. He was almost certain he failed at it.
. . . . . “Understand what?” Charlotte moved closer, tension radiating from the set of her shoulders and her twisting hands.
. . . . . “How you made an enemy of Midshipman Kent and lived to tell the tale.” He shook his head and stood, wanting to shake her and embrace her. “Have you no common sense? Do you not know better than to taunt a hungry shark?”
. . . . .She settled her hands on her hips. “It is the shark who should not taunt me. Have I not proven I am capable of surviving anything that comes my way? Have I not shown that I can do what a man can do as well as a man can do it? Have I not demonstrated—”
. . . . . Unable to resist her any longer, he kissed her, reveling in the softness of her lips. She grabbed the lapels of his coat and swayed as if about to swoon. He supported her weight with one arm around the small of her back; with the other, he pulled off her mob-cap and caressed the back of her head.
. . . . .He ended the kiss and held Charlotte close, his fingers stroking her short, silky hair. “Aye, you have proven all those things.”
. . . . . “I was a good midshipman, was I not?” Worry tinged her voice.
. . . . .After everything she’d been through, he could not believe she doubted her adequacy as a midshipman. “Yes. One of the best I have had the pleasure to serve with. But it makes me worry.”
. . . . .She pushed against his chest to look into his eyes. “Worry?”
. . . . .Fear—not worry—nearly clogged his throat. But had she not said . . . ? “Aye. Will you be content to give up your prospects for further promotion in the navy to become merely the wife of an officer?”
. . . . .Charlotte swallowed a few times before answering. “Aye, sir. It would make me most content to be the wife of Captain Ned Cochrane.”
. . . . .He kissed her again, joy making his legs weak and nearly capsizing both of them. “You have made me the happiest of men.” He once again tucked her into his embrace, resting his cheek against the top of her head.
. . . . .She stiffened. “What was—?”
. . . . .He shushed her. The hairs at the back of his neck tingled. He released her, wishing he’d thought to bring his pistol with him when he followed Charlotte and Winchester out here.
. . . . .The noise came again. Not quite a rustling, not quite a scratching. More like the shuffling-scraping sound made by sailors’ bare feet on a ship’s deck.
. . . . . “Stay behind me,” Ned whispered, forcing Charlotte behind his back. “We’d best go inside.”
. . . . . “I concur, wholeheartedly.” Her hands settled on his waist.
. . . . .Without turning, he walked backwards toward the warm glow of light from the open windows and doors at the other end of the too-long porch. Why hadn’t he taken Charlotte inside immediately after Winchester’s departure?
. . . . .A thud behind them. Charlotte gasped and her hands dropped away from his waist.
. . . . .Ned turned—and the side of his head exploded with searing, bright white pain, then contracted into darkness. More pain shot through his legs as his knees hit the porch decking.
. . . . .Rustling—sounds of struggle? Ned struggled to stay upright, but he needed to lie down—no, he needed to help Charlotte. Where was she?
. . . . .He rubbed his eyes against the darkness. His left hand came away wet, sticky. The side of his head throbbed.
. . . . . “Ned!”
. . . . .Panic drove him to his feet. “Ch—”
. . . . .Fresh pain at the back of his head. Stars bloomed before his eyes, and he fell forward, knees, chest, and chin hitting the floor. He rolled to his back.
. . . . .A dark figure crouched over him. “Tell Admiral Sir Edward Witherington it is time for him to pay for the sins of his past. Until he does, the woman’s survival depends on the mercy of a pirate.”
. . . . .Ned reached for the man’s throat, desperate for any means to stop him, but the pirate shoved his hands aside. Ned tried to pull himself up, but darkness swirled around him, drowning him. He fell back to the porch.
. . . . .When he opened his eyes, all was silent. No movement, no rustle, no harsh breathing.
. . . . .His head ached and spun. Something warm trickled down his cheek.
. . . . .He pushed himself up to a kneeling position. Taking hold of the porch railing, he hoisted himself up, no better than a hulled ship bobbing in a stormy sea. After a few wobbly steps, he found his sea legs.
. . . . . “Charlotte?” He could muster only a harsh whisper. But no response came.
. . . . .Finding the nearest open door, he staggered into the house, not knowing whose bedroom he entered. In the hallway, he turned around three times before taking a deep breath and getting his bearings. There, two doors down.
. . . . .He barreled into his bedroom—and ran right into the bench at the end of the bed. On it, his small traveling bag—as yet unpacked. He rummaged in it and finally wrapped his hand around the smooth butt of his pistol.
. . . . .The door scraped farther open, and light flooded the room. Ned leveled the pistol at it.
. . . . . “Sir, it’s me, Jeremiah, foreman.” The dark-skinned man held the lantern high, near his face. “I heard a commotion—”
. . . . . “Come, I need your help.” Ned snatched the candle-filled lantern from the plantation’s foreman and hurried from the house. At the back, he carefully descended the steps to the wide expanse of grassy lawn.
. . . . .No moon. Almost complete blackness. He crossed the lawn toward the cane fields that surrounded the house. He’d seen a cut-through somewhere in this direction which appeared to lead to the inlet far below the hilltop-set house.
. . . . .Rustling. Footsteps.
. . . . .Ned stopped, raising the pistol. “Who goes there?”
. . . . . “Commodore William Ransome. Identify yourself.”
. . . . . “Captain Ned Cochrane.” He nearly collapsed with relief—and dread. He stopped and leaned over, his lungs aching for air.
. . . . .Jeremiah took the lantern from him.
. . . . . “Jeremiah? What—?” Julia Ransome appeared from behind her husband’s back.
. . . . .Ned straightened. He had to tell Commodore Ransome about Charlotte.
. . . . .Mrs. Ransome gasped and rushed forward, pressing a handkerchief to Ned’s left temple. “What happened?”
. . . . .Wincing at the pressure she put on the injury, he took the cloth from her and wiped the worst of the blood from his face.
. . . . . “Pirates.” He spat the word. “They attacked me from behind. The blow disoriented me. By the time I could see straight, they were gone.”
. . . . .Ned locked eyes with William. “They took Charlotte.”
Thursday Thought Provoker
Tuesday Time Turner
Okay, so today should have been a post about adverbs. However, I pushed myself to get my galley edit of The Art of Romance finished yesterday—then followed that up with writing discussion-group questions for Ransome’s Quest and working on the final sample chapter for the new historical proposal. And, of course, nothing else is done between 9 and 10 p.m. in my house on Monday evenings other than me playing Hawaii Five-0 Bingo and praying to the TV gods that Alex O’Loughlin will take his shirt off. 😉 By the time I sat down to try to write today’s post, my head was pounding and thinking about adverbs was the LAST thing I wanted to do! So we’re going to have what I hope will be a fun discussion day.
If you could go back in time to experience any one day in history—significant or not—when would you go?
Writer’s Window–Leslie Gould
Joining us today for Writer’s Window is women’s fiction and romance author Leslie Gould.
One lucky commenter* will win a signed copy of Leslie’s latest book, The Amish Midwife. Deadline for leaving a comment to enter the drawing is Friday. To enter the drawing, you must answer the question posed by Leslie at the end of the interview. Only one comment per person will count toward the drawing. You do not need to include your e-mail address in the body of your comment—just make sure it’s correct when you sign in to leave your comment. The winning name will be drawn and announced on Sunday.
- *U.S. residents only, void where prohibited. If you win the drawing, you will be ineligible for the next three drawings, though hopefully you will still come back and join in the discussion.
__________________________________________________________
A deathbed confession…a dusty carved box containing two locks of hair…a century-old letter about property in Switzerland…
Nurse-midwife Lexie Jaeger’s encounter with all three rekindles a burning desire to meet her biological family. Propelled on a personal journey of discovery, Lexie’s search for the truth takes her from her home in Oregon to the heart of Pennsylvania’s Amish country.
There she finds Marta Bayer, a mysterious lay-midwife who may hold the key to Lexie’s past. But Marta isn’t talking, especially now that she has troubles of her own following the death of an Amish patient during childbirth. As Lexie steps in to assume Marta’s patient load and continues the search for her birth family, a handsome local doctor proves to be a welcome distraction. But will he also distract her from James, the man back home who lovingly awaits her return?
From her Amish patients, Lexie learns the meaning of the Pennsylvania Dutch word demut: “to let be.” Will this woman who wants to control everything ever learn to depend totally on God? Or will her stubborn determination to unearth the secrets of the past at all costs only serve to tear her newfound family apart?
A compelling story about a search for identity and the ability to trust that God securely holds our whole life—past, present, and future.
Welcome, Leslie!
What do you like best about being a writer?
- The amazing sense of harmony I feel when I’ve had a good writing day—no interruptions, five thousand or more words, and the thought that at least some of it is worth keeping.
What do you like least about being a writer?
- The angst I feel when I’d planned to have a good writing day—and it didn’t happen. Too many interruptions, too much time spent staring at the wall, unexpected obligations. That sort of thing. The writing life really is an act of faith.
Pop, Soda, or Coke? What do you call it, and what’s your favorite variety?
- Definitely “pop”—but I hardly ever drink it. I’ll have root beer with pizza, but that’s about it. I much prefer water, tear, or coffee.
What’s your favorite dessert?
- It used to be anything chocolate, but now I’m leaning toward crème brûlée. I’m not a big fan of ginger in sweets—love it otherwise—but the best crème brûlée I’ve had is at Pho Van, a Vietnamese restaurant, in SE Portland. It has a touch of ginger in it, and is the perfect combo of French and Vietnamese cuisine. (BTW, speaking of chocolate and dessert, happy Valentine’s Day everyone!)
What’s the most fun/interesting/crazy/scary/unique hands-on research you’ve done for a book?
- I didn’t actually realize I was doing research as I was going through this—it wasn’t until later that all my emotions and experiences came together in the writing of my second novel, Beyond the Blue. My husband, Peter, and I spent five weeks in 2001 in Vietnam, adopting our youngest daughter. She was almost four then and of course we fell in love with her the moment we saw her photo, and then madly, head-over-heels in love with her the moment we saw her in person. We were able to take her from the orphanage near the South China Sea immediately and then as far as Ho Chi Minh City, but soon we started hearing that her paperwork was “lost” and that there was going to be an “investigation.” We loved being in Vietnam, but you can imagine our relief when the paperwork showed up after nearly five weeks (we’d been told we’d be there for two!) and we were able to take her home.
What’s your favorite movie from childhood?
- Walt Disney’s The Aristocats. I had an early interest in the Beatniks and used to call my father Daddy-O (it was a short but fun phase). The Aristocats was right up my alley. 🙂 Much later, in college, I wrote my senior thesis on the literature of the Beat generation.
If you were to write a novel about what your life would have been like if you’d become what you wanted to be at eight years old, what kind of character would the story be about?
- It would be about a New York fashion designer—I used to spend hours sketching designs with my colored pencils. I haven’t thought of that in years! That is so completely opposite of who I am now, although I did edit a bridal magazine for eight years and during that time wrote a feature article on Reem Acra, an internationally recognized New York fashion designer.
What makes you happy?
- Traveling with my family. Last year’s trip was to Lancaster County with my husband and two daughters to do research for The Amish Midwife. From there we went to New York City for a few days. What a great experience for our girls, who had never been to either place.
What makes you nervous?
- My husband is in the Army Reserve and as I answer these questions, he’s in the process of being deployed to command a field hospital in Afghanistan. That makes me a little nervous, even though I know he’ll be in a much safer spot than a lot of our service people. But being nervous reminds me to pray, so that’s a good thing.
What’s your biggest dream for the future?
- To travel far and wide with my hubby after the kids are grown. Since he’s a medical person and I can teach English, we hope to combine service projects with our travels.
Tell us about your newest release and what you’re working on now.
- The Amish Midwife, co-written with the amazing Mindy Starns Clark*, is my newest release. It’s a wonderful combination of both of our storytelling gifts. As I’m answering these questions, we’re finishing up The Amish Nanny, the second novel in the series, and we will soon start on the third book.
[*Mindy will be featured on Writer’s Window on October 3, 2011.]
Where can people find out more about you/connect with you online?
Now it’s your turn to ask the question. What question do you want to ask the commenters to answer?
- If you could be any character in any book or story (for a day or a lifetime, your choice), who would it be?
__________________________________________________________
Leslie Gould lives in Portland, Oregon with her husband and four children. She’s curated a museum in Ashland, Oregon, worked in community relations for the Port of Portland, and edited a regional bridal magazine. She received her MFA from Portland State University in 2009. She is the author of Garden of Dreams, Beyond the Blue (Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Best Inspirational, in 2006), Scrap Everything, and several Guideposts novels (Home to Heather Creek series and Stories from Hope Haven series). Most recently, she co-wrote of The Amish Midwife with Mindy Starns Clark, the first in a three-book series. Leslie has also taught fiction at Multnomah University and is the editor/agent liaison for the Oregon Christian Writers’ summer conference.
KayeDacus.com 