BETWEEN THE LINES–stories behind the making of RORY’S CHOICE

Every story has an origin, and Rory’s Choice is no different. The novel stems from one of my mother’s childhood stories.

She grew up on a farm, and on this farm was a horse named Duke. He was an amazing animal in every way, except, he didn’t like being tied up. He would work, and work a rope, rubbing against whatever it was tied to until the rope broke and he was free.

One autumn day, my grandfather took Duke and another horse up the mountain to bring the cows down from the high grazing lands and into the pastures. After the first day of gathering cows, my grandfather tethered Duke to what he thought was a huge railroad tie sticking out of the ground, leaving him to rest. He rode the other horse he had brought back up the mountain to finish the job.

When he came back down with the rest of the cows Duke was gone. My grandfather wasn’t very happy—he thought Duke had broken another rope. Surprisingly, it didn’t take long to find Duke. Less than a quarter-mile away, he stood in a shallow pond. When my grandfather began to draw him out, he could see that one of his front hooves had been severed. The railroad tie my grandfather had tethered him to wasn’t as big as he thought.

Like times before, Duke had worked, and worked on the rope, but it didn’t break the line this time, it loosen the tie from the ground. When he galloped away, the chunk of wood he’d pulled up from the ground launched toward him, cutting off a front hoof. Nothing could save that animal, no matter how smart and amazing he was. My grandfather had to put him down, and all because of a bad habit he refused to give up.

Right about here my mother would turn the moral of this story back on us and say, “Remember, it only takes one bad habit—get rid of them before they can destroy your life.”

I didn’t write this novel to recreate that story. In fact for those that have read the novel you know it doesn’t resemble the story at all, although I did give the horse, Duke, in my novel the same flaw and name as a token to the memory of this true story. It was the moral my mother always touted that I wanted to explore. Every character in Rory’s Choice has a flaw, or bad habit. Whether or not they choose to overcome it will determine if they are destroyed or not.

 

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Pausing to remember

After the death of my mother last week, my heart and head need some time to morn her loss.  Thank you to all those who have expressed their sympathy. I promise I’m not giving up on writing. My mother would not want me to, and I would hate to disappoint her.

This week, I hope you’ll hold your loved ones a little closer, and tell them you love them–often. No matter how much time you have with them on this earth, it is never enough.

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Worth the read “As You Are” by Sarah M. Eden

During my early teenage years, there was a good span of time where I read, and reread every book Jane Austen wrote. At the time, they appealed to my wistful, girlish fantasies. Not a bad thing, but I don’t usually seek out such books anymore, which is why I find it funny that I’m about to recommend a Historical Romance to you. My mother gave it to me. And I loved it so much I can’t keep it to myself.

Unlike a lot of the Historical Romances out there, “As You Are” by Sarah M. Eden is a clean fiction. The writer used a wonderful plot to intrigue me instead of flashing manly, bare chest every other page. In the Historical Romance genre that is a very big deal, and a positive for me. What makes it even better, the main male character, Corbin, is not your usual tough Lord, bursting at the seams with charisma. He’s hopelessly shy, which only made the scenes between him and the “woman of his dreams” even funnier. He can hardly string two words together. When she says, “I broke your face.” I laughed so hard it brought me to tears. You’ll have to read the book to find out why that happened.

This holiday season, I suggest you kick back and find your nose in this book. It will transport you back to the golden age of gentlemen, keep you entertained, and leave you uplifted. What more could you ask for in a novel. Well done Sarah M. Eden.

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Out of the mouth of babes

While standing in a long line at a checkout, I noticed a young mother with a small girl, sitting in a cart ahead of me. Between me and the adorable child, that couldn’t have been quite two, stood a man. A man who smelled so badly of cigarette smoke, I could have sworn he still had one lit between his teeth. But I saw no smoke billowing around the back of his head, so I figured the guy must spend a lot of time in a very enclosed space to get that potent of a smell to accompany him.

Lucky me, the smell of cigarettes is one of my least favorite smells. Nothing gives me a bigger headache. It’s why I always avoided the Casinos in Las Vegas as much as possible when I lived there.

As the line slowly inched forward, I did all I could not to pass out. Switching lanes wasn’t possible. The very early hour only had one checkout lane open. Doing my best to be polite, I held my breath for as long as I could, releasing my breath quietly before I suffering another suck of air to enter through my mouth.

The young girl in the cart suddenly spoke up when her mother circled around to put her items on the conveyer belt. She grabbed her little nose and bellered at the man between us. “Ew…you tink.”

The man didn’t take it well. The mother’s quick apology at her daughter’s outburst did little to ease the man’s fury. His thorough scolding of this young mother went on and on. His exact words aren’t worth repeating, but the gist of the tongue lashing was a belittling of this young mother and her parenting abilities.

You better believe the poor mother paid for her items quickly and scurried away. I felt bad for her, because in reality, the little girl said exactly what I was thinking. But having acquired the filter of adulthood, I didn’t dare tell him.

A wise man would have recognized the little girl’s guileless comment wasn’t motivated by anything but truth. He really did stink.

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Sharing my holiday fix

This might make me sound like a miser, but there’s not much about Christmas I enjoy anymore. I hate the pressure of buying gifts. I hate the extra cost it puts on my very budget-regulated life. I hate that I generally feel like a failure, because the world tells me I’m a bad parent if I don’t buy my kids the latest and greatest tech junk to come down the tube.

But…there are a few things that I do love—giving out Christmas Tree Bread and listening to Christmas music. In fact, I can’t do one without the other. If I’m making Christmas Tree Bread, Christmas music must be playing.

Of course, I’m always singing along. I can’t help myself, and my youngest son shares my fixation. At the top of his voice he sings along with me. I hope he never stops loving to sing. His bullhorn tone puts such a smile on my face—I love the Christmas classics even more.

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Missing my mommy

I drove home from my mother’s house this past weekend wishing like crazy I could reverse time, be sixteen again. No children, no responsibilities, just sit near my mother soaking up the precious moments left of her life. In the final stages of her pancreatic cancer, she is so sick it pains me to watch her suffer, but at the same time I hate the hundreds of miles that separate me from her when I go home. I can feel the end coming, and even if it’s a month away, it’s not enough time. And worse, what if I’m not there when she passes?

Somehow I know the burdens that make me return home, will be my saving grace when my mother is gone. My children, husband, and home, focusing on their needs will pull me out of the funk of depression threatening to overcome me. Oh, how I wish, just for a little while longer, they didn’t exists. My mommy is dying and I can’t be there. I can’t imagine life without my mommy. Who will I ask for advice now? My children are so young. There’s so much I don’t know. I just need…more time…to live closer. Neither option is possible—a truth and a heartache I can’t escape.

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BETWEEN THE LINES–stories behind the making of RORY’S CHOICE

I patterned the kid-friendly feel of the diner in RORY’S CHOICE after a little mom-and-pop place in the small town where I grew up. Consequently, it became one of my favorite settings to work with, blasting back to those childhood memories I hold most dear. The owner Dotty is a little crazier than the real owners of my childhood hangout, but they were just as wonderful. They even had a game room like in the story, full of games that didn’t require money to play. Oh, the hours I spent there with the other kids in the town…awesome times 🙂

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DON’T GIVE UP: Things I wish I would have known when I was fifteen.

Last week my daughter came home from school and told me she didn’t think she’d ever be a very good singer.

“Why is that?” I asked.

“Because I can’t find the tune as easily as everybody else does.” (I’m pretty sure she meant pitch here instead of tune.)

She’s ten, so I chuckled. “I think it’s a little early to give up just yet.”

It’s advice worth repeating over and over again. Just because something doesn’t come easy to you doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it. With work, anyone can improve on any skill they want to learn.

The perfect example of this is a young girl I met well over a decade ago. She joined the swim team as a freshman. Not because she knew how to swim, she wanted to hang out with her friends after school.

Day-after-day, I spent hours coaching her, breaking down the swim strokes. Unfortunately, competitive swimming did not come easy for her. For most of that first season she looked awkward, and was very slow in every event she competed.

To my amazement, she returned the next season. Again, we work on her stroke technique. Slowly things started to click for her, and she began shaving off time in every event.

What started as a way to hang out with friends became a passion for her. She began swimming before school, and even stayed in the pool long after the other athletes in the evening. It took all four years, but her hard work paid off. She took third or second in every event she swam as a senior. When I remember how awful she looked when she started, that accomplishment is amazing indeed. And proof that you don’t have to be a natural to become great at those things you love. Desire and work are powerful tools that can change anyone into what they want to be.

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BETWEEN THE LINES–stories behind the making of RORY’S CHOICE

When I first wrote that there were pages in the diary ripped out, I knew I wanted to have them hidden in a really cool, plausible place—but where? With the problem in the back of my mind I pushed forward, hoping I’d have an answer before I reached that part in the book.

I found the answer when I walked into my in-laws home for a visit. My father-in-law had this beat-up ledger open on the table–one I’d never seen before. I looked at the pages filled with strange markings and numbers, and had to asked, “What are you doing?”

“I’m looking over my cow book to see which cows I want to send to auction.”

Cow book? I’d never heard of the concept until now, but it made sense. It was how a rancher kept track of all the cows of their heard. The numbers matched the tags put in each cow’s ear and the symbols told him all kinds of things, like which bulls sired them, or if the cow didn’t have a calf that season, and more.

It was the twist I needed to continue the novel. And what was even cooler, it gave the reader another aspect about farm-life that actually exists. Awesome! I love learning while being entertained at the same time.

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Why leave a review?

Being able to say I am a published author is still pretty surreal to me. After so many frustrating years of disappointments, I feared it might never happen. I knew it wouldn’t be endless days of sunshine and lollipops after my book came out, but the many hours I spend promoting my book with no outward results surprise me.

Many people have told me they enjoyed the book, yet the reviews on Amazon.com or Goodreads are few. The bulk of my ability to be successful hinges on those reviews. I can tell people all day long the book is good, but my opinion really doesn’t matter. I wrote the book, so I’m seen as biased.

At least I’m not the only author riding this fruitless merry-go-round. Many of my author friends on facebook question how to get their readers to leave reviews. I wish I had an answer, short of walking people to their computers and pushing their fingers down on the keyboard’s letters.

We writers spend countless hours creating works that entertain you. If we did our job well, please, find our books on Amazon or Goodreads and leave a review. I promise it won’t take you nearly as long to do this as it took us to write the book.

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