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Abigail’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Abigail’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
Abigail Hayven’s Followers (56)
49,686 books
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367 friends
1,373 books
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163 friends
2,569 books
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161 friends
239 books
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22 friends
1,583 books
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65 friends
1,212 books
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89 friends
1,143 books
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238 friends
1,590 books
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30 friends
More friends…
Abigail Hayven
Goodreads Author
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Member Since
September 2021
URL
https://www.goodreads.com/abigailhayven
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The Colors Of Rain
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* Note: these are all the books on Goodreads for this author. To add more, click here.
the value of your quiet creativity & a goodbye for now post
“Your home is darling,” someone told me a few weeks ago, and I agreed.
Since getting married, I have done little art in the way of writing, which is my ‘normal’ mode. But my home has been my canvas, and the result has been one of my most treasured works yet.
Every square inch of our nest has been thought through, even if there aren’t very many square inches to it. At around 700 square feet, we don’
Read more of this blog post »
Abigail’s Recent Updates
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Abigail Hayven
wants to read
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Abigail Hayven
wants to read
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Abigail Hayven
wants to read
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Abigail Hayven
wants to read
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Abigail Hayven
wants to read
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Abigail Hayven
rated a book really liked it
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Abigail Hayven
wants to read
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Abigail Hayven
is on page 111 of 256 of You Bet Your Stretch Marks
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Anna Barroso
is on page 56 of 400 of Morning and Evening, Based on the English Standard Version
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“We all have skeletons in our closets, they say. My family included.
But ours hid in the attic, not the closet. They hid among the journals, photos, shoe boxes, wedding dress, and board games.
Ours were tumbling out.
I had to clean up the mess alone—hide the evidence.
If this is what new beginnings looked like, I didn’t want one. If starting over meant facing the ghosts that haunt the past, I wanted to keep the past.
But there was no going back. I knew too much.
I’d seen the bones. I’d met the monsters.
My parents wore masks to make them look happy, to hide secrets, to tell us they loved us. Even I wore a mask to hide my own monster. But now the masks had fallen off, and sliding them back on wouldn’t hide the truth anymore. What was seen could not be unseen.
The new beginning was here to be faced, like it or hate it.”
― The Colors Of Rain
But ours hid in the attic, not the closet. They hid among the journals, photos, shoe boxes, wedding dress, and board games.
Ours were tumbling out.
I had to clean up the mess alone—hide the evidence.
If this is what new beginnings looked like, I didn’t want one. If starting over meant facing the ghosts that haunt the past, I wanted to keep the past.
But there was no going back. I knew too much.
I’d seen the bones. I’d met the monsters.
My parents wore masks to make them look happy, to hide secrets, to tell us they loved us. Even I wore a mask to hide my own monster. But now the masks had fallen off, and sliding them back on wouldn’t hide the truth anymore. What was seen could not be unseen.
The new beginning was here to be faced, like it or hate it.”
― The Colors Of Rain
“I guess at six years old, being named after the rain does seem pretty discouraging, but on the other hand," I said, turning behind me to pull one of the long sunflower stems out of the bucket I'd brought in, "it's the rain that brings growth. No rain, no flowers. Our world would be missing a lot of beauty and color without it.”
― The Colors Of Rain
― The Colors Of Rain
“We all have skeletons in our closets, they say. My family included.
But ours hid in the attic, not the closet. They hid among the journals, photos, shoe boxes, wedding dress, and board games.
Ours were tumbling out.
I had to clean up the mess alone—hide the evidence.
If this is what new beginnings looked like, I didn’t want one. If starting over meant facing the ghosts that haunt the past, I wanted to keep the past.
But there was no going back. I knew too much.
I’d seen the bones. I’d met the monsters.
My parents wore masks to make them look happy, to hide secrets, to tell us they loved us. Even I wore a mask to hide my own monster. But now the masks had fallen off, and sliding them back on wouldn’t hide the truth anymore. What was seen could not be unseen.
The new beginning was here to be faced, like it or hate it.”
― The Colors Of Rain
But ours hid in the attic, not the closet. They hid among the journals, photos, shoe boxes, wedding dress, and board games.
Ours were tumbling out.
I had to clean up the mess alone—hide the evidence.
If this is what new beginnings looked like, I didn’t want one. If starting over meant facing the ghosts that haunt the past, I wanted to keep the past.
But there was no going back. I knew too much.
I’d seen the bones. I’d met the monsters.
My parents wore masks to make them look happy, to hide secrets, to tell us they loved us. Even I wore a mask to hide my own monster. But now the masks had fallen off, and sliding them back on wouldn’t hide the truth anymore. What was seen could not be unseen.
The new beginning was here to be faced, like it or hate it.”
― The Colors Of Rain
“Elrond's house was perfect, whether you liked food or sleep or story-telling or singing (or reading), or just sitting and thinking best, or a pleasant mixture of them all. Merely to be there was a cure for weariness. ... Evil things did not come into the secret valley of Rivendell.”
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