Greetings! I’ve been very slow at updating this site, as you can see. Life, on the other hand, has not been slow, and a lot has happened since I posted last summer.
The complete Daughter of Arden Trilogy is out in the world! Promise, the final book of the trilogy released last November, and I’ve been thrilled with the feedback so far. It’s been lovely to see readers finding it and enjoying it.
Much of the end of the summer was spent wrapping up edits and finalizing the artwork for Promise. That kept me and my daughters busy, all the while prepping and then taking our eldest daughter to start her first year in college. She’s had a great year so far, and we were happy to have her home over Christmas. In March, our second daughter, Evie, and I will fly up to join her for the Square Halo conference near my parents in Lancaster, PA, and then Evie will visit Clare’s campus.
I was happy to get to the Rabbit Room conference, Hutchmoot, again last October. Bandersnatch Books were sponsors, and we had books available at the conference, a special treat after years of exploring the beautiful books of other authors! We also had an author event at Landmark Booksellers in Franklin, TN.
I started a Substack newsletter! That’s where I’ve been putting my writing energy lately. If you haven’t seen it, you can check out and subscribe Sun Shafts here. I’m putting up a post each week, ranging over all sorts of topics.
That’s it for writing and book news! I’ve updated links on my “Published Works” page here.
On June 13, book 2, of my Daughter of Arden Trilogy, Wandering, released from Bandersnatch Books. It’s as beautiful as Exile. Every time someone picks up these books, they admire the covers, but then often say something like, “This feels so nice!” The books really do feel good–they have a matte cover that feels good to the touch, and the quality of the paper is clear. Also, when you line up the books next to each other, the pattern on the spine is continuous. That was a touch that Rachel Donahue of Bandersnatch Books has worked hard to make happen.
Anyway! I could keep gushing about that, but I’ll refrain.
I also had two podcast interviews, and they went up over the past couple weeks. Both were interviews with friends, which made them extra enjoyable to record, and both are podcasts I’ve enjoyed following.
The first podcast is a new one, “Leaf by Lantern,” created by Alicia Pollard of Stories of Yearning. Alicia has hosted numerous writing projects on her blog, and she’s now launched this podcast to talk about retelling fairy tales in the light of scripture. Her ability to research and then communicate what she’s learned is beautiful to see, and I’m thoroughly enjoying the episodes from this podcast. She asked great questions about different elements that made their way into Exile. I’m also biased toward this podcast because the cover art for the podcast is by my daughter Ev (based on a concept of my daughter Clare).
The second podcast showed up last Tuesday on “Dwell,” a podcast for homeschool moms hosted by Renee Mathis and Karen Kern of Circe Institute. I’ve gotten to know Renee through The Habit writing community, and we encouraged each other through the November Poem a Day challenge last fall. This conversation was another good one, with great questions that made me think back through all the years of when the kids were little and somehow a lot of Maid Maleen’s story emerged, too. How did I write when they were little? It’s all a bit fuzzy!
No more interviews are on the horizon, but it’s nice to know these are out there. This month will involve final edits on Promise, and Clare and Ev are busy putting the artwork together. In mid-July the Realm Makers Conference will converge in St. Louis, and we’ll find out if Exile will make it past the finalist stage for Fantasy novel and Debut novel. I won’t be able to go to that conference, but my Habit friend, Katie Williams, will be there, and she’s offered to be my award receiver stand-in if for some crazy reason Exile wins. Wouldn’t that be wild?
My friends Alicia and Reagan have collaborated on a writing project called Winter Pages. They called for contributions from writers in our online writing community, The Habit, and put together a schedule spanning from the beginning of Advent through Lent. Each week new work is posted on the site Alicia created–poetry, essays, stories, playlists, and photography. Meanwhile, Reagan collected a small subscription from any interested in receiving a paper copy of each week’s piece, and she sends out a physical letter with the printout. It’s been such a fun project. I love going to the site to see the visual art, and I never know exactly when a new letter is going to appear in my mailbox (and that’s my real mailbox on my street, not my email inbox!).
Today my Epiphany story is up. You can go and read “Star of Gold,” and then explore the great work that’s already been posted. Enjoy!
Last week my cousin Stacy asked me if I typically made New Year resolutions or had any particular goals. I admitted I didn’t—I tend to shy away from specific plans or resolutions. I’m not sure if that’s because I hate to do what’s traditionally expected, or if it’s because I’m not very intentional about making plans or setting goals. I have a feeling it’s a bit of both.
“How about a word for the year?” Stacy asked. “Do you have those?”
Again, not really…
But her questions stuck with me. A couple days later, as my family drove miles and miles from visiting extended family in Michigan and Pennsylvania, back to our home in East Texas, I read a friend’s end-of-the-year letter describing her method for taking a day to assess the year past, and look toward the year ahead with intention. I have to admit, I read it feeling partly overwhelmed. Every time I hear people describe their methodical process of organizing life I get fidgety. It’s not that I don’t want to get organized and plan, but the thought of sitting down and working through specific questions always sends me running away to something else. I have a book to read! Dinner needs to get made! There are so many things to do rather than work through diagnostic questions!
At the same time, as I read through the letter, another part of my brain stuck with it, and I thought, “Maybe I could do something like this. Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to take the time to sort through some things…”
We’re home from our journey now, and we have a week before all the school things start back up. While I know some of this week will be organizing details for the school semester, there is more time available than usual, and I want to take some of that to think through questions and possibly plan. I know to hold my plans loosely, that’s no question; I’m happy to let God do the work he needs to do. But being organized and intentional is not a bad thing.
This morning I woke up and had some extra time before the family emerged. My one year Bible beckoned me from my side table. I finished it up yesterday in the waning of the year, a ritual I’ve managed to go through in the past three years. My edition is one my dad gave me back in high school for a challenge, and I’ve come back to it off and on over the years. It’s the one method of consistent Bible reading that’s worked for me. There’s something about having each passage laid out specifically each day that keeps me turning the pages throughout the year. When I miss days, it’s easy for me to catch up—the dates are all right there, and I got over any guilt in that area years ago. Three years of reading through the same edition has led to emerging associations, too: I can remember events of life when I reread certain passages, and I look forward to parts that I know will come at certain times of the year. I know I’ll start off fast with the Genesis narrative and the Gospels, that I’ll be hanging out with the kings of Judah and Israel in midsummer, that Isaiah will kick off the new school year along with the Epistles, and that the prophets and John’s Revelation will be a clarion call to wrap up the year. (There’s something deeply satisfying to read the final prophets and Revelation during Advent.)
The other day, though, as I started to think about sitting down to plan, I pondered if I wanted to try something different this year for Bible reading. There are lost of options: I could take a passage and read it until I’d memorized it, or work through a book inductively. Maybe I could actually get through more of the spiritually challenging nonfiction books I’m always wanting to read, but never get to. I didn’t have the time or mental energy to come up with a plan between Friday and today, though, so when my trusty one year Bible waved at me this morning I decided it certainly wouldn’t hurt to start with that. And so I did, and the familiar words flowed through me: “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth…” There is something so absolutely grounding about those words. Day one covers the first two chapters of Genesis and of Matthew—the creation of the world and the birth of Christ. I can’t think of a better place to begin the year.
I don’t know exactly how things will flow this year, or if plans I make will come to pass, but it’s nice to have one thing settled.
Oh, and I think I have a word for the year, too: Light. Why “light”? I’ll ponder that some more to see if I can put my thoughts into words, and come back to it in another post.
I’m going to prep my coffee pot; I’ll grind the beans and pour them in the tray (And sniff the heady brew that wafts my way): It won’t take long. —You come too.
I’m going to sit and drink while morning wakes; I’ll watch the sun come breaking through the trees And dream of many tales or far off seas. It won’t take long. —You come too.
“The Pasture” ~By Robert Frost
I’m going to clean the pasture spring; I’ll only stop to rake the leaves away (And wait to watch the water clear, I may): I shan’t be gone long. —You come too.
I’m going out to fetch the little calf That’s standing by the mother. It’s so young It totters when she licked it with her tongue. I shan’t be gone long. —You come too.
(It’s the final day of November Poem a Day! I’m in under the wire. I wrote all of the poems except the one that was for this past Form Friday, the Renga. Maybe someday I can pull that one off, but I’ll need someone else to write it with.
Thank you for coming along on this journey with me! Today’s prompt, “You Too?” is a fitting ending for the month. As C. S. Lewis said about the quality that makes friendships, it’s that moment when you say, “What? You too? I thought I was the only one.” I feel like I’ve had that moment a lot this month.
This final poem is modeled closely after Robert Frost’s poem, “The Pasture.” I couldn’t get the final line of his two stanzas out of my head, so I thought I’d create my own version to invite you into my life and home. I’ve included Frost’s poem after mine.)
First week: Advent— Our hope bent to One sent to earth— Blesséd birthday Gained worth through cross way.
Advent: Look to The hope future, When through Him all In sin’s thrall will Stand tall or fall. Come, Lord, come fulfill!
(This was yesterday’s prompt, and I’m glad it took me till today to be able to write it, because the idea came out of a conversation Kraig and I had this evening. He was saying how during the message Sunday he suddenly saw the parallel of the first and second coming of Christ–the first is a Type of the second; they create a double-image, or (my mind shouted) a convergence. It seems fitting to have an Advent poem here at the beginning of this new season.
And the form is a ya-du, a Burmese poetry form which often refers to seasons. Each stanza is a quintain. The first four lines have four syllables; the final line has 5, 7, 9, or 11 syllables. The rhyme scheme goes like this: xxxa/xxax/xaxb/xxbc/xbxxc (Since my second stanza has nine syllables in the final line, my final rhyme scheme is this: xbxbxxxxc)
The spheres all align, but I wallow in trepidation, Worrying about details of Which You have promised even the Birds have no fear. Yet I juggle the spheres And think my way is greater, Thus upsetting the order even though I know I should trust You far More. My struggle for control is Ongoing, even though you have declared me innocent.
“But trepidation of the spheres/Though greater far, is innocent.” ~John Donne, “A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning”
(So! What is a “syzygy”? Basically it’s “the nearly straight-line configuration of three celestial bodies (such as the sun, moon, and earth during a solar or lunar eclipse) in a gravitational system.” (According to Merriam-Webster)
When I heard the prompt, I first thought of the phrase “the music of the spheres,” and that made me think of a line from John Donne’s “A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning,” so I decided to use that line and create another Golden Shovel poem. Somehow it ended up as a poem alluding to Matthew 6:25-27 and Romans 7:14-20. How’s that for an alignment?)
Why does the wide sky With shifting clouds and colors Make me long for more than this?
There’s something in it That reminds me I’m not all; It’s fine I don’t have answers.
(This poetry form is called a “mondo.” Basically it’s two stanzas with a 5-7-7 syllable pattern in each. The first stanza asks a question that the second answers, and it needs to be related to something seen in nature. Today’s prompt, Numinous/Thin Spaces refers to those places where the space between the mundane and the sacred seems thin, or thins. I think the sky always does that for me.)
Stories stick like glue, Their concepts accrue For me. Sadly, math won’t too— Numbers lead a coup, Break free. I can’t shift my view, But family true, Loves me.
(I admit that as we near the end of this month, I’m looking for poetry forms that are shorter before I try my hand at the poem for the day (or the day after, in this case). Yesterday’s prompt was “Sticky” and I found a French poetry form called a “Lai,” a nine line poem which uses an aabaabaab rhyme scheme. The “a” lines have five syllables each, and the “b” lines have two. I deliberately chose words that had a lot of rhymes for “a” and while my “b” choice has lots of options as well, I ended up repeating one of the rhymes for the poem to make sense. Ah well!)
Links connecting crosswise, Woven chainmail flexing, I speak with you and Find we have connections On the chains annexing.
(Have you ever found out when you met someone that you had a connection through someone else, or even just interests or experiences connected you? That’s what I had in mind when I put this poem together. I love it when that happens.
The form I chose today is known as a Flamenca, a Spanish quintain that’s related to the dance. The rhythm is supposed to be staccato, bringing to mind the clicking of the Flamenca dancers’ heels. Lines 1, 2, 4, & 5 have six syllables, line 3 has five syllables, and 2 & 5 assonate (rhyme or near rhyme). There can be as many stanzas as one wants, but one stanza seemed enough for my idea.)
