Jen Gilroy's Blog, page 14

Grit, passion and more: How my hometown shaped my life and writing

 

Last weekend, something extraordinary happened for my hometown (American) football team. After twenty-nine long years, the Winnipeg Blue Bombers won the Grey Cup, the Canadian Football League (CFL) championship. 

Unlike my late mom, I’m not a football fan. I gleaned the little I know of the game from glimpsing my high school team practicing on a sun-drenched autumn field from a library window, or via fiction, notably the Chicago Stars romance series by Susan Elizabeth Phillips.

Yet, as the Blue Bombers triumphed in the championship game, I had an unexpected surge of hometown pride. It had nothing to do with the actual game, but rather what the win represents, not only to the city I grew up in, but to me as a person and writer indelibly shaped by that early environment.

Grit
As some media outlets commented, Winnipeg, is a “gritty” place.

This mid-size Canadian city sprouted amidst the vast Canadian prairie in the nineteenth century . Since then, it has thrived despite isolation (the nearest big city, Minneapolis-St. Paul, is almost four hundred miles away and across the American border), extreme weather, and being the focus of jokes across the country.

True to its mid-west pioneer roots, though, people there are resilient, resolved to make the best of things no matter how dire the circumstances, and hold a firm belief that crops (and everything else) will be better “next year.” 

Whilst waiting almost thirty years for a football championship is extreme, people in my hometown never gave up hope—a kind of stubborn resiliency that marks my own life and which I draw in part from those prairie roots.

Passion
Perhaps as a reflection of living in a place where winter temperatures often dip to -40F/-40C and summer’s searing heat can push the thermometer up to over 100 degrees Fahrenheit (40C), Winnipeggers are a pragmatic lot who don’t suffer fools gladly.

They’re also passionate about not only their sports teams, but also the arts, culture, books, good food and more. Although welcoming to strangers (people of more than 100 nationalities call the city home), loyalty isn’t given lightly but rather has to be earned.

Although it’s taken almost twenty-five years, Tech Guy, who grew up in southern Ontario, can finally consider himself an honorary Winnipegger, although only because he’s my husband.

Even then, however, his “outsider” status is cemented anew each time he visits, opens his mouth, and a southern Ontario drawl spills out—in contrast to my teenage prairie vowels which suddenly and unexpectedly reappear as soon as I cross the provincial border. 

Showing up and working hard
Not least, the Winnipeg team’s football championship win has almost been universally lauded as a reward for “showing up” and “working hard.”

If you’re from the prairie, you recognize more than many that although life can be tough, there’s no excuse for not showing up and giving the task at hand your best effort.

Ingrained in me since childhood, that philosophy still shapes me today.

My writing life
Although my books aren’t set in western Canada, having grown up in a city that functions like a large small town nevertheless influences my fiction, especially in terms of the sense of community, inter-connectedness, and mutual support that characterize the fictional Firefly Lake and Irish Falls.  

My prairie roots shape my writing life in more subtle ways too. To keep going and survive as a writer requires grit and passion, as well as a stubborn resolve to not give up, no matter how difficult the circumstances.

It also requires the determination and focus to show up day after day and write—putting in the hard work despite negative reviews, disappointments, bad luck, self-doubt, and more.

And when good things happen, as they did for the Winnipeg Blue Bombers last weekend, they not only require celebration but gratitude, especially for those who stick by you for the low points of the journey, more frequent than the lofty (and fleeting) pinnacles of success.

Book news and looking ahead
 My new book, The Wishing Tree in Irish Falls, has been well received and I’m both humbled and grateful for the lovely things readers have said about it.

And since German rights for that book have just sold to Penguin Verlag, I’m also grateful and humbled for this new opportunity to share my writing with German readers. 

Yet, 2019 has also been a difficult year in my personal life (not least continuing serious illness for English Rose with three emergency hospital visits in the last week alone) and certain aspects of my writing.

In that sense, Winnipeg’s Grey Cup win reminded me that grit, passion, and hard work are at the core of who I and that no matter how long it takes, not to lose hope.

However, since Winnipeggers also have long memories, the next person who makes a joke about my hometown (including that tired jibe about “Winterpeg”), will appear in one of my books—and not as a heroic character! 

In praise of ‘virtual’ friends

While I’m blessed with many friends in my ‘real’ life (including one who goes back to my high school years and often reads this blog), my author life means I also have many ‘virtual’ friends—people I’ve connected with via social media who, at the click of a mouse, have been a source of encouragement, inspiration, and support in writing and beyond.

Although there are ‘odd’ people in social media land—and from my Twitter feed to a significant proportion of my Instagram followers and Facebook ‘friend’ requests, I have a daily reminder of the ‘oddities’ of human nature—there are numerous kind and good people too who enrich my life.

A learning community

Twitter, in particular, is where I go to learn not only about writing but also what’s happening in the wider world.

From my solitary desk, I connect with the #writingcommunity and keep abreast of writing and publishing news, including articles, online classes, and #writingtips that help me grow my craft and industry knowledge.

For me, Twitter is like a global water cooler and I dip in and out  to post, chat with writer friends, and learn.

I follow some of my readers on Twitter too and it’s a privilege to share in snippets of their lives, travels, and hobbies.

And, not least, Twitter is where I follow news outlets, businesses, heritage organizations, healthcare bodies, public figures and more to connect with people, places, and issues important to me.

Also, in a world where the news is often bleak, Twitter can be good for a daily smile—cue actor Chris Evans as Golden Retrievers!

A community of friends

I launched my Facebook author page in December 2015 and slowly but surely, it’s become a vibrant community of readers, many of whom are also friends.

I once heard Facebook likened to chatting on the porch and that image has stuck with me and is a guiding principle for the interactions I have on my author page.

It’s the place where I share more of my life beyond writing than I do on Twitter (more pictures of Floppy Ears and updates on Tech Guy, English Rose and my small-town life), and it’s where I’ve developed meaningful relationships with readers around the world.

I’m also privileged that members of my Facebook community have shared their lives and challenges with me and are part of the ups and downs in my life.

When ‘virtual’ friends become ‘real’ ones

Amongst many connections I’ve made via social media, some of those virtual friends have also become real-world friends.

I first met historical novelist Susanna Bavin (who also writes as Polly Heron) on Twitter and now count her as one of my closest friends not only in writing, but life.

With Susanna in Wales, and me in Canada, we don’t see each other often, but along with e-mail, social media helps us remain connected and part of each other’s lives despite the geographical distance that separates us.

When I was in England in July, I met other virtual friends in real life too, and did the same in September at the Women’s Fiction Writers Association conference in Albuquerque, New Mexico.

As such, and in recent months, this kind of friendship community has grown exponentially and is one of the blessings in my life.

And when virtual friends share my writing…

This week, two virtual friends have also shared my writing with their readers.

I connected with Susan B. James when I won a copy of her recent release, Irish Magic, in a giveaway.

Susan kindly invited me to guest on her blog to chat about my new book, The Wishing Tree in Irish Falls, favourite authors (who knew we’d both be L.M. Montgomery fans?), tips for new writers and more.

Read the interview here and if you’re in the US, enter the Rafflecopter giveaway for a chance to win a Kindle copy of The Wishing Tree in Irish Falls and signed bookmark.

Like The Wishing Tree in Irish Falls, Susan’s books (and Irish Magic is no exception) have a mystical element. Her writing also focuses on second chances in life and romance, and sometimes older heroines. I loved her first book, Time and Again, for those reasons—not to mention time travel to 1960’s London.   

I guested on my friend Maggie Blackbird’s blog this week too, again chatting about The Wishing Tree in Irish Falls, the main characters and my favourite scene, as well as sharing bits about my life. Read that interview here.

Like me, Maggie is Canadian and a dog mom, in her case to two gorgeous Malamutes. Unlike me, though, she is an Ojibway woman and from her home in northwestern Ontario writes contemporary and historical romance about Canada’s Indigenous people.

Not only is Maggie a gifted writer, but her stories shine an important light on people and places that don’t often feature in romance novels. Her newest book, Thanks to You, just came out and is on my TBR list.

Celebrating friends…

We can never have too many friends—or books!

As such, when I’m celebrating virtual friends, I’m also celebrating you, the readers of my blog, because whether we know each other in real life or not, I value what you bring to my life and writing.

And if we’re not already connected, come visit with me, virtually, on Facebook, Twitter or Instagram.

Finishing a book, ‘nesting’ for winter, and celebrating writing milestones

Last week, I finished writing the sequel to The Wishing Tree in Irish Falls. For those of you who have read the first book in this series, the sequel is Annie’s sister Tara’s story.

It will be my fifth published book (or eighth including the German editions of my Firefly Lake series) and together with the numerous other unpublished books I wrote whilst learning the craft of writing, finishing a manuscript isn’t unusual—and indeed, the book isn’t truly ‘finished’ because I’ll have several rounds of edits from both my agent and editor before it reaches readers.

Yet, from when I was a newbie fiction writer (ten years ago and counting) until now, the feeling of completion when I finally reach ‘the end’ has remained remarkably similar.

Surprise and relief

Knowing I’ve shaped a story from beginning through that (for me) tortuous middle until completion brings both surprise and relief.

There’s the ‘I did it’ feeling of achievement mixed with the surprise of actually ‘doing it.’

Each book brings new learning and new challenges, about both myself as a person and as a writer. And although I couldn’t imagine my life without writing, it’s always a bit like I imagine walking a tightrope to be—a magical alchemy premised on a complicated mix of exhilaration, satisfaction, adrenaline, and terror.

An urge to clean

When I’m immersed in the world of a book, some degree of domestic chaos always ensues. Aligning as it did with the final clear-out and then sale of my late mother’s home, and more health issues for English Rose, the chaos with this book has been considerably worse than usual.

As such, and as I come ‘down’ from that ‘book completion high,’ I’m sorting, tidying, and reorganizing my home. Albeit temporary, thanks to living with a husband, teenager, and dog, the progress I’m making is more tangible and fulfils me in a different way than writing does.

Over the years, I’ve learned there’s something therapeutic about digging into closets, clearing out cupboards and dusting—clearing the mental cobwebs as much as the physical ones—before starting afresh.

Reconnecting with everyday life

When I’m on a book deadline, the world of my story becomes more real than my everyday life.

Over the years, Tech Guy and English Rose have become accustomed to my book abstraction, but are likely now breathing twin sighs of relief that I’ll ‘hear’ them the first time they speak to me for the next few months—and may even remember what was discussed!

I’m also catching up on long overdue emails, Netflix movies, and lunches with friends.

A time to read

 I’m enjoying reading too, and in the afternoon instead of only at bedtime.

Top of my to-be-read (TBR) list?

In the spirit of the season, The Christmas Holiday by author friend, Sophie Claire, and Christmas at Miss Moonshine’s Emporium,  a festive story anthology to which Sophie and another friend, Kate Field, also contributed.  

‘Nesting’ for winter

Completing this book has also aligned with the time of year I ‘nest’ for winter.

Together with the seasonal wardrobe rotation (into the cedar chest go my light summer tops and dresses to make way for snug woolens), preparing my home for this new season of cocooning is both comforting and restorative. 

Tech Guy and I have bought new living room cushions, and I’ve swapped summery candles, beachy décor, and throws for cozier winter versions.

I’m dipping into recipe books too for hearty stews and fruit crumbles, and my summer plants are now inside to overwinter by a sunny kitchen window.

A time to celebrate…and sleep  

Finally, and just like a book release, finishing a book is also cause for celebration as women’s fiction writer Chrissy Clark reminded me when she posed this question recently to the #writingcommunity on Twitter:

“Do you have a celebratory ritual for THE END? I don’t, but I’d like something more dignified than bouncing off the walls like Tigger!”

In reading the responses to her question, I realized that in the past month, and despite having both a new book out and another one completed, I’ve been so caught up in ‘busy-ness’ that anything celebratory slipped entirely off my to-do list.

Whilst I’m currently too tired for any kind of “bouncing” (sleep also suffers when I’m nearing THE END), some kind of celebration is long overdue.

So, happy ‘nesting’ of your own and here’s to celebrating achievements large and small in life and writing—before I start all over again with a new ‘Chapter One’ next week.

Asking ‘what if’ and building a book: ‘The Wishing Tree in Irish Falls’

My new book (and first in a new series), The Wishing Tree in Irish Falls, came out last week.

I’m heartened by how many of you are excited to read the story and touched by the lovely things early readers have said about it. If you’ve already posted a review on Amazon, Goodreads or elsewhere, thank you!

Building a book

I chatted about The Wishing Tree in Irish Falls at my book club’s meeting this week and a member asked how authors ‘build a book’—meaning where ideas come from and how strands fit together to create a finished story for readers.

Although every author approaches ‘building a book’ differently, for me, and now with four published books and many more ‘under the bed’ never to see the light of day, certain things remain the same.

A story idea and ‘what if’

Together with an initial idea, I always start with ‘what if?’

In the case of The Wishing Tree in Irish Falls, the story was sparked five years ago on a trip to Hong Kong for my then day job when I heard about wishing trees and their importance in Asian culture.  

The idea of tying a wish to a special tree in the belief that a hope or dream will be granted stayed with me and I wondered…

What if two people who’d given up on wishes lived in a town with a wishing tree?

And what if both those people had also given up on dreams once important to them and, like many of us, settled for lives that didn’t quite fit?

As I contemplated making big changes in my own life, that story kernel stayed with me and I read more about wishing trees, discovering they’re important in many cultures and parts of the world, including Ireland.

I also thought about things I’d given up and was now trying to rediscover including music, roots, and life in a small town settled by Irish immigrants.

From there, Annie and Seth’s story was born.

Once I sat down to write, I could picture Quinn’s Bakery on Malone Street in small-town Irish Falls (an amalgam of several towns in Eastern Ontario, Canada and the Adirondack region of New York State) and knew how the story started, key turning points, and the ending. Everything else I discovered as I wrote.

Mapping the story and characters

As I build a book, I keep a story map both in my head and on paper, often using different coloured Post-it Notes to track scene order and character development.

I also keep a character list to ensure names and physical descriptions are consistent. That list (hopefully!) avoids the problem I discovered while in edits for one book where the heroine’s eye colour changed from brown to blue and then grey in three successive chapters—when she wasn’t wearing contact lenses!

Transforming fact into fiction

To a greater or lesser extent (and sometimes more than I consciously recognize), each book I write also draws on bits and pieces of my own life.

In The Wishing Tree in Irish Falls, the hero’s dog, Dolly (named after the singer, Dolly Parton) is based on my childhood dog who long ago ‘crossed the rainbow bridge’ but now lives again in fiction.

The story showcases my love of music and is a tribute not only to my late dad (the book is dedicated in his memory) but everyone else who has brought music into my life.

The community of Irish Falls is also shaped by my own small-town experience both during childhood summers and where I live now—places that aren’t perfect but where people care about each other and pull together in good times and bad.

The power of wishes, dreams and hope…and small-town life

Perhaps most importantly, the story reaffirms my belief in our ability to make positive changes in our lives, even under difficult circumstances.  

As Annie, the heroine, says to Seth, the hero:

“My dad wouldn’t have wanted me to give up on a dream. He always told us to reach for the stars. Even if you didn’t get there, he said you had to try and maybe you’d catch the moon instead.”

At its core, The Wishing Tree in Irish Falls is a story of hope, home, and healing with a bit of humour too for with their joys, eccentricities, and challenges, small towns are microcosms of the wider world—with one particular and important difference.

Except in a small town, someone who’d lived in a community for fifty-three years likely wouldn’t see themselves as a newcomer. However, that’s how a woman who’d moved to my small town in the late 1960s recently described herself to me.

Still, and given that my mother’s family and many others came to this area from Ireland in the 1830’s (pictured here, my great-grandmother several times over making her celebrated Irish lace), 1966 is indeed recent.

From my heart to yours, happy reading and happy wishing! 

And if you’d like to find out more about The Wishing Tree in Irish Falls (including scene snippets) read my guest blog on Harlequin Junkie here.

 

Community, connections and crisscrossing a continent

As many of you know, I was in Albuquerque, New Mexico last week attending my first Women’s Fiction Writers Association (WFWA) retreat.

Held annually, it offers independent writing time, but also includes workshops, discussion and working groups, and social events to help writers foster new connections and community.

This year’s retreat focused on the writing life and building community to encourage wellness and resiliency, not only in life but writing, too.

For those who don’t live it, life as a writer often isn’t well understood. A new acquaintance recently asked about my job and when I replied “author,” he responded: “That’s not work. It’s play, isn’t it?”

Like my fictional characters do in awkward situations, I pasted a fixed smile on my face and explained (like a polite Canadian!) that although it’s my happy place, writing is indeed a job and involves many things besides actual writing.

I run a small business and although I hire other professionals to help with certain activities, I’m the CEO, as well as chief marketing and financial officers, social media director and more—at the same time as I create the end product, books, that are the focus of my business.

For those three days in Albuquerque, though, I was with my ‘people,’ other writers who understand not only the joys of the writing life (with a shared passion for telling the best possible stories), but also the pitfalls, frustrations, isolation, and emotional ups and downs that come with building and sustaining a writing career.

Although I gained helpful writing tips, tools, and insights (notably discussions about plotting and categorizing different sub-genres of women’s fiction), far more valuable at this point in my career are the connections that extend my writing community.

It was special to spend time with Kelly Farmer, a friend and fellow finalist in Romance Writers of America’s Golden Heart contest in 2015.

I also look forward to getting to know new friends like Mel Greenberg (she of the fabulous shoes if you follow my Facebook author page), and Texan Susan Arscott (who introduced me to Frito Pie, a southwestern U.S. specialty).

And amongst many others, I was happy to meet writers Sheila Athens, Kathryn Barrett, Barbara Conroy, Laura Drake and Ann Griffin in real life—friends whom I previously knew only on social media.

And whilst chatting with Barbara Claypole White (author of The Unfinished Garden, one of my favourite reads of the last few years), I discovered a shared connection that extends beyond writing to encompass England and parenting a son and daughter with invisible illnesses.

Guided by empathetic workshop leader, Nicole Blades, the retreat was a safe space for writers to talk openly together about challenges that come with different stages of the writing journey from beginner to seasoned professional.

And from the rejection trenches (and rejection doesn’t stop once you’re published), through to writing sensitive diverse stories, the retreat focused on building community, connections, and shared understanding.

At all stages of a career, writers need other writers—peers to share with, mentors to learn from, and newbies to help. Thanks to this retreat, I have new inspiration and a new community to draw on in the days and months ahead.

And when self-doubt strikes, I’ll also remember Barbara O’Neal’s keynote speech filled with encouragement, wisdom and reaching for the tissues moments, too.

With flight connections via Washington, DC, Denver, Los Angeles, and Toronto, I crisscrossed the vast North American continent on this trip, losing count of the number of U.S. states I traversed.

Yet, and to paraphrase a familiar saying, miles aren’t the only or best way to measure a journey.

As I soared high across the southwestern desert, veered out above the Pacific Ocean to circle back along Southern California’s golden beaches, and flew over mountains and plains, lakes and rivers, and small towns and big cities, I measure my journey in terms of changes in how I see myself and my writing life.

And now in my small-town Rideau Valley home, alone behind my computer once again, new friends and a new community are only a mouse click (or screen tap) away.

Writing news…

My new book, The Wishing Tree in Irish Falls, is out next week. It’s set in a small town in New York state’s Adirondack mountains where two people who’ve given up on wishes learn that sometimes happily ever after is only a wish away. 

Make sure you’re signed up to my newsletter and following me on social media for behind the scenes book news, giveaways and more.

I’m also on a virtual tour with Suzy Approved Book Tours throughout October and November—see the schedule here.

Along with e-copies of the book, I’ll be giving away some of these gorgeous bookmarks (signed) made by Chris Chinkiwsky of Coba Studios and Print Shop.

Although my writing community is global, I like shopping local and not only is Chris a talented and visionary graphic designer, he’s helpful, professional, and easy to work with—a true star!

 Not least, his studio is near Nana B’s Bakery, the small-town bakery that helped inspire the fictional Quinn’s Bakery in Irish Falls—and whose award-winning butter tarts I celebrate in my story.

Technical difficulties…

Dear blog readers, 

Owing to technical difficulties over the past few weeks, I haven’t scheduled a blog post today. I’ll return with a new post on October 4, 2019.

Thank you for your understanding and patience, and a grateful shout-out to the tech support specialists who are helping me get ‘back to business as usual’ as quickly and seamlessly as possible. 

If you also subscribe to my quarterly and new release author newsletter, the fall edition comes out early next week. A big thank you to more experts who helped resolve issues there.

And if you’d like to become a newsletter subscriber, sign up here.

Follow my travels

I’m off to Albuquerque, New Mexico, USA from September 25-29 to attend the annual Women’s Fiction Writers Association (WFWA) Retreat. I’m  looking forward to a special time of learning and reflecting—along with late-summer warmth. 

I’ll post trip pictures on Facebook, Twitter & my new Instagram account so follow along and share in my adventures virtually.

Hugs,

Jen x 

Shopping and mother-daughter bonding

Shopping together is one of the things I enjoyed (and miss) doing with my mother. Although we usually didn’t buy much, wandering around the shops and then having lunch was when Mom and I had some of our best talks.

In between teaching me how to spot a bargain, upcycle a dated outfit with trendy accessories, and drawing inspiration from seasonal fashions (including our shared love of shoes), it was during those times that I learned much about my mom’s life and how she lived it. And as I cleared out her closet after her death, most pieces of clothing carried a memory, not only about having seen her wear a particular item but often when she bought it, too.

English Rose and I have shopped together since she was a baby, and when we lived in England, we often took the train from our village to the nearest big town to visit a shopping centre there. From an early age, she too was fascinated by shoes, especially sparkly ones, and counted on stopping for a drink and biscuit (cookie) before making the journey home.

Indeed, when I think of Marks & Spencer, a famous British department store, I’m always reminded of when a toddler English Rose unbuckled the supposedly child-resistant restraint on her pushchair (stroller) and, whilst I paid for a purchase, scampered away at speed, getting within striking distance of an escalator before I caught up with her.

English Rose celebrated her sixteenth birthday this week and these days, our shopping trips are, of course, much different. Since shopping is something she usually does with friends, I was honoured when she asked me to come with she and a friend for a back-to-school shopping trip in the city—and not only as a needed source of transport!

As we looked at clothes together, I thought of many other shopping trips—past, present and, I hope to come.  

Like my dear mom, English Rose has a keen eye for a bargain and snagged a graphic T-shirt for only a dollar as part of a special promotion.

She also was armed with a list and map of the mall with stores to visit highlighted on her phone to ensure she paced herself—as needed to manage the various medical conditions that are now part of her life.

And not least, she was savvy about colours, style, fabric quality, washing instructions, durability, and use versus garment cost.

At the end of the day, we came home with several bulging shopping bags because a trip to the city isn’t a frequent occurrence for us.

However, I came home with much more beyond the ‘Millennial pink’ cardigan English Rose assures me is just what I need to update my autumn wardrobe. Rather, I have more happy memories to keep in my heart of a special bonding time with a daughter who is also becoming a friend.

And just maybe, my mom was with us in spirit and nodded in wry amusement and with memories of her own when her words came out of my mouth as I told English Rose that a certain item of clothing was too revealing, at least when she was still living at home!

Writing news…

Mother-daughter relationships are a hallmark of my fiction and in my new book, The Wishing Tree in Irish Falls, the heroine, Annie, is a single mom navigating life with her sixteen-year-old daughter, Hannah, with advice (welcome or not) from her own mother, Maureen. I enjoyed writing these family dynamics and hope fictional experiences resonate with some in your own life.

Advance reviews are now coming in, and I’m grateful for how readers are taking Annie and Seth’s story, Quinn’s Bakery, and small-town Irish Falls into their lives and hearts.

Misty at Reds Romance Reviews called it a “delightful little tale” and said “I was in the mood for a sweet story that would give me the feels, and this one hit the mark.”

The reviewer at Reads A Latte Thrillers (who dipped into a new genre to take a chance on my book) “loved every inch of it” and described the story as “absolutely adorable…in the best possible way.”

That reviewer also made me smile by “craving Annie’s famous cheesecake”  because my fictional heroine’s signature bake was inspired by Nanaimo Bars, a Canadian favourite and one of many sweet treats that came from my mother’s kitchen.

The Wishing Tree in Irish Falls is out on October 9 and if you’re interested, mark it as “to-read” on Goodreads and/or pre-order the Kindle copy on all Amazon platforms including Amazon.com, Amazon Canada & Amazon UK. In the UK and Canada, The Wishing Tree in Irish Falls is also free in Kindle Unlimited. 

 

A time of losses and gains

One of my favourite series of books, loved in childhood and which I still return to as ‘comfort reads’ as an adult, is the Little House stories by American author Laura Ingalls Wilder. Those books taught me about resilience, cheerfulness in the face of difficulties, and finding a silver lining, no matter how grey the clouds.

In the past few weeks, I’ve returned to the ‘Laura books’ on my keeper shelf and, in particular, to an axiom often uttered by the stalwart Ma Ingalls: “There’s no great loss without some small gain.”

This summer has been punctuated by a succession of losses large and small, all resulting in a profound sense of ‘absence’ from people and things I once took for granted.

As I shared in my last blog post, I’ve said goodbye to my childhood home and it now lives on only in my memory.

And from arriving at that home to discover a new neighbour had removed a shared fence and gate (the latter on my property) with no prior consultation, through to having to deal with nosy and insensitive busybodies, my soul is  battered and bruised.

I’m also in the midst of a season of purging, a version of the Swedish death cleaning or decluttering your home whilst you’re still alive, a difficult process since I’m a sentimental person for whom cherished possessions serve as an anchor in an often-uncertain world.

Those physical losses—multiple recycling and charity shop donations–have been mirrored by the almost eight pounds in weight I’ve shed due to a combination of stress and a recent gastrointestinal infection.

Yet, just as losses have loomed large lately, there have been important gains as well and to adapt another Little House phrase, all may be well that ends well.

When my childhood home is sold, I’ll no longer have the considerable worry (and cost) of managing and maintaining a property at a distance.

Despite my angst at the lack of consultation, the neighbour’s fence is the latest in modern (and expensive) design and since they’re agreed to replace the gate, the realtor (estate agent) I’m working with assures me that this upgrade will showcase my property more favourably to potential buyers.

The high school friend who, despite trauma and loss in her own life, made time to see me, was an important reminder of what true friendship means and made a difficult time more bearable.

Mega decluttering is forcing me to assess which possessions mean something important to me and which don’t and only keep those that reflect who I am now—not who I was or never will be.

All the items I’ve sent to charity and recycling will help others and the planet, and the lost body weight is an excellent excuse to indulge in favourite ice cream treats a bit more frequently!

So, although many things have gone wrong in the past weeks, many more have gone right and at points of despair I got encouragement from unexpected sources just when I needed it.

When I sold seven boxes of my late mom’s canning supplies to a woman around my age who’d spotted my online ad, we chatted briefly.

She learned to can from her late mother and now each summer as she harvests garden produce to make jams, jellies, and pickles, she remembers the times she spent with her mom when they chatted about life, as well as preserve making.

As we spoke about what our mothers have meant in our lives, I was connected to both that powerful mother-daughter bond but also something integral to female experience. As women, and as the girls and women did in the Little House books, we share with each other—our losses and our gains, and our joys as well as sorrows.

Before she left, the woman, whom I know only as Christina, gave me a jar of her homemade jam. What Christina doesn’t know is that she gave me much more—time to stop, time to remember, and time to be—and that our chance conversation will have a lasting impact on my life and, by extension, writing.  

Amidst a time of great losses, her little act of kindness is perhaps one of the greatest small gains of all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Saying goodbye to my childhood home

I’m writing this post from my hometown in the Canadian province of Manitoba, a place I left when I was in my early twenties and, apart from brief visits, I built my adult life elsewhere.

Now, though, I’m doing the final clear-out of my late parents’ home—those four walls and a roof that once formed the centre of my world and, even when I was far away, a place of comfort, refuge, and constancy.

It’s a time of memories but looking to the future too, connecting the family I come from with the family I now have—and also the child and teen I was with the adult I’ve become.

The family I come from

From the cloak my mother wore as a student nurse (with her name embroidered inside the collar) to framed pictures of Royal Canadian Navy ships my dad served on, my childhood home holds remnants of the people my parents were before they had me .

It holds the essence of my childhood too, and finding a neon-pink Barbie doll chair in a forgotten corner of a closet catapulted me back to my gap-toothed six-year-old self unwrapping a longed-for present one Christmas morning.

And from letters written in faded ink to photos in frames old and new, the house is an archive of my life and family stretching not only to my parents but several generations beyond them, too.

The family I have

My childhood home also has memories of Tech Guy and English Rose, and when I found a scrapbook my mother had made to hold cards and drawings from her granddaughter, tears welled. 

Yet, as I watch English Rose use her nana’s sewing basket and scrap fabric to craft hair scrunchies, I see the family I come from intersect with the family I have, an invisible yet strong thread binding us together across time and geography and beyond death, too. 

Making new memories

Next week the purging, packing, and charity shop donations will be done, the moving company will have left, and I’ll shut the door of my childhood home for the last time.

Yet, despite the sadness of that moment, I’ll not only remember happy times in that house but focus on carrying the love and family that shaped me between those four walls with me for the rest of my life.

And as I use my parents’ things in my grown-up home over a thousand miles away from that prairie city where my story began, I’ll make new memories as well.

And those hair scrunchies English Rose is making?

Flannelette from my dad’s old pyjamas has been transformed into the latest fashionable teen accessory. My dad, noted for his sense of humour, would see the funny side, but since she’s also made scrunchies for friends, I may soon see bits of his PJ’s all over my small town!

Writing news…Coming in October 2019, The Wishing Tree in Irish Falls  

If you didn’t see it in my summer newsletter or on Facebook, the cover for my October release, The Wishing Tree in Irish Falls, is here. Thanks to Soul Mate Publishing and cover artist Anna Lena Spies for capturing the feel of my book so beautifully.

Sometimes happily ever after is only a wish away…

There’s a wishing tree in Irish Falls. The bits of paper tied to its gnarled branches hold the hopes and dreams of everyone in town . . . except Annie Quinn.

Single mom Annie has spent years rebuilding her life and trying not to have regrets. After giving up her dream of music stardom, she returned to her Adirondack hometown—and convinced herself she’s content with a simpler life. The last thing she needs is a man to remind her of the heartbreak she left behind. 

A divorced dad, Seth Taggart used to be a successful LA songwriter. But now his reputation is in tatters, he’s burnt-out, and estranged from his adult son. Inheriting a small-town radio station just might be the do-over he needs.

Although he always planned to go back to LA, when working with Annie turns into sharing music and more, Seth realizes second chances—and home—are where he least expects.

But can he convince Annie to trust the wish in her heart?

If you’re interested in The Wishing Tree in Irish Falls, the Kindle edition is now available for pre-order on all Amazon platforms including Amazon.com, Amazon Canada & Amazon UK.

 

 

 

 

What I learned on my summer vacation: Author life meets real life

When I was at school, the first writing assignment after the long summer holiday was usually about what I learned on vacation. 

While I never enjoyed that exercise—the dullness of distilling those magical eight weeks on a sole sheet of lined paper to a prescribed structure—I thought of it again recently thanks to the two weeks I spent in England and Wales visiting an author friend, at a writing conference, and then on a family vacation. 

For one of the few times, my life as a published author intersected with my real life, yielding sometimes funny, often poignant, but always surprising results. 

My ‘reputation’ precedes me

I wasn’t prepared to be greeted by numerous writing conference attendees who, upon hearing my name, immediately said “Floppy Ears.” 

Clearly, my sweet hound dog has her own little fan club—as do Tech Guy and English Rose—and I was touched by how many people asked about my family and sent good wishes to them. 

For good or ill, I also seem to be indelibly associated with ice cream as several people mentioned they thought of me whenever they saw or ate it. 

I’m taller in real life than on social media

Social media gives a truncated view of the world, and it’s a leap from ‘knowing’ someone through a small profile picture to meeting them in real life. 

As I learned on this trip, something about my Twitter and Facebook posts gives the impression I’m much shorter than I am. “You’re tall” was a phrase I heard often, always accompanied by surprised expressions. 

Yes, I am tall, standing just over five feet eight inches, although English Rose has now overtaken me by a few millimeters. 

I *may* be a woman who likes books too much

Tech Guy and English Rose arrived in England a week after I did. When I met them after the conference and Tech Guy carried my case up four flights of stairs to our holiday flat (apartment), he groaned then said: “It would have been nice if we’d stayed here before you went to a writing conference with book giveaways and visited London bookshops.” 

Whilst I don’t want to admit exactly how many books I brought back with me from the UK, Tech Guy’s mini portable luggage scale was very helpful in distributing items between our suitcases to ensure we met Air Canada’s weight limits. 

Many friends and readers keep a low profile 

As an author, I’m to some extent a public figure, and this blog, my author newsletter, and my social media posts are, of course, public. 

On this trip especially, though, I was struck by how many more people read my posts than I expected.

So, to all of you, those I’ve met in real life and those I haven’t, thank you and welcome. Floppy Ears also sends you a tail wag. 

Tech Guy, English Rose and me 

Tech Guy got his UK driving skills back within twenty-four hours there and now has to be reminded not to apply British speeds and roundabout techniques to our more leisurely small-town roads. 

After a weekend spent with her childhood best friend, English Rose got her English accent back and now slides seamlessly between British and Canadian speech depending who she talks to. 

I, meanwhile, avoided driving in England, looked both ways twice before crossing any road because I was never sure which direction traffic was coming from, and slipped back into the British expressions my literary agent and editors weed out of my books so they’re understandable to North American readers. 

Between two worlds 

I’ve now lived back in Canada for four years and this trip was a reminder that the UK—and special people and places there—will always be integral to how I define home. 

From meaningful times with friends, savouring British food treats, and walking by the North Sea as white-tipped waves whispered against a favourite beach, this trip was about making new memories with people and in treasured places that are and will always be part of the fabric of both my own and my family’s lives.  

We are one family but two countries. Three people who live in two worlds, hold two passports each, and have two different identities.

Now if only I could spend six months of the year in Canada and six months in England…with Floppy Ears and ice cream in both!