Cheryl Grey Bostrom's Blog, page 13

Redbud fruit 2: Living Connected

Introvert. Connected. These two words caught my eye when I saw the title of Afton Rorvik‘s new book Living Connected: An Introvert’s Guide to Friendship.

Then I opened the advance copy on my e-reader . . . and instantly recognized that when the book releases on October 5, my colleague in the Redbud Writers Guild will have herself a niche winner!

Speaking specifically to introverts, she offers decades of wisdom shaped by her own introversion—years of learning how to build and sustain friendships in the context of her God-given personality.

Niche? Yes, but the book’s relevance applies to all of us, introverted or not, who long for enduring, meaningful friendships. Consider the chapter headings: Honesty, Generosity, Approachability, Curiosity, Empathy, Loyalty, Confidentiality, Consistency, Flexibility, Creativity, Hospitality, and Humility.

Wow. Good stuff.

She fleshes out those bones with a collection of her and other introverts’ stories about the successful construction of beautiful, sometimes surprising friendships.

And some difficult ones. At times, Rorvik struggled in her relationships. After all, an introvert’s makeup insists on solitude; connecting with others can be harder than it is for those who thrive on steady human contact. Introverted readers will trust her compassion. Will feel understood and affirmed.

See why I like this book so much? With her posture of humility and gentleness, openheartedness and listening, Rorvik shows us her doubts and insecurities, as well as her determination to overcome them, without pretending to be someone she isn’t. I couldn’t help but like her, trust her, and wish to be one of her friends.

I bet you will, too.

You can preorder Living Connected: An Introvert’s Guide to Friendship HERE.

Buttered.

“I will turn the darkness into light before them and make the rough places smooth.”

—Isaiah 42:16

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Direct hits.

“But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.”

—Matthew 5:44

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Mt. Baker bedrock.
(Have you ever seen her this bare?)
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“Nothing is covered up that will not be revealed, or hidden that will not be known.”
—Luke 12:2

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Thanks for stopping by, friends. We’re going camping for a couple of weeks, but I’ll be back once we’re home again.

(Photo by Avery Ullman. )

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Watching Nature, Seeing Life: Through His Creation, God Speaks.

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Sugar Birds: Available in audiobook, paper, and ebook NOW!

Redbud fruit: A book called KNOWN

As a member of Redbud Writers Guild, I’m inspired daily by this diverse, international movement of Christian women who tap the pulse of culture, then write about where and how it intersects with faith.

Their writing is fascinating, authentic, wise work. In the weeks ahead I’ll be reviewing several of these authors’ upcoming books, including today’s. If this book whets your curiosity like it did mine, click the link below to order. 

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Recently I snapped up an ARC (Advance Reader Copy) of Aubrey Sampson’s forthcoming book Known: How Believing Who God Says You Are Changes Everything. The title promised what I indeed found inside its pages: an exposition of truth that has cloaked and nourished and fortified me for decades now. Truth that says this:

You and I are beloved. Named. Known. All with tenderness, power, forgiveness and intimacy that usurps every lie we may have believed about ourselves.

Unfortunately, in a world as broken and lie-riddled as ours, we may miss the beautiful names the Lord gives us that affirm how well he knows us and how deeply he loves us. Or we may refuse those names. Doing either will keep us from our true identities and purpose.

Author Sampson understands this, and so, in the first part of her book, she systematically makes the case for who we are, whose we are, and how those facts can alter our lived realities. Corroborating her case with Scripture, she clinches the deal so convincingly that many readers will gladly give their intellectual assent.

But.

Believing something rationally is a far cry from absorbing truth into one’s being so that it becomes a lived reality. Sampson knows this, too. In response, she provides the second section of the book, her marvelous Reflection and Discussion Guide, which, when patiently, prayerfully digested, will usher readers into a new level of personal growth—and nearness to God.  

It’s here, through this discussion guide, that the book becomes more than just another well-written, informative work of Christian non-fiction. Fully employed, it will make this book transformative for those who absorb its gift.

Whether you read this book individually or in groups, take your time with it, and own what’s inside. You’ll never be the same.

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Ripening.

“The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. Instead he is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish . . .”

—2 Peter 3:9

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Strewing.

“Sow your seed in the morning, and at evening let your hands not be idle, for you do not know which will succeed, whether this or that, or whether both will do equally well.”

—Ecclesiastes 11:6

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Revelation.

“For still the vision awaits its appointed time . . . If it seems slow, wait for it; it will surely come; it will not delay.

—Habakkuk 2:3

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Thanks for stopping by, friends. So glad you’re here!

Watching Nature, Seeing Life: Through His Creation, God Speaks

P.S. Have you heard Sugar Birds’ audiobook yet?

Read by the award-winning Jayne Entwistle. You can get it here at Audible or here at Libro.fm, where your purchase supports independent bookstores.

Dog Days (& Interviews)

Dog Days: an old, old term, coined by someone in antiquity who thought that light from the “dog star” Sirius increased the ambient temperatures of late summer. A long forgotten theory, though the term remains.

I acknowledge Dog Days myself, every August, when our setters begin to dig cool earth nests on the north side of our house, or when they loll in the shade, their tongues long. I follow suit my own way, nesting in a hammock under our aspens, book or writing pad in hand, catching mist from a sprinkler dousing thirsty maples and cedars.

Then, when the day wanes and the heat softens, the dogs and I pick blackberries. Mine accumulate; theirs don’t.

This year, August’s Dog Days rhythm has an additional beat: interviews. Bloggers and hosts have been asking me about everything they can think of related to Sugar Birds: my inspiration, learning curve, and writing process . . . my childhood and life experiences . . . the book’s themes . . . the natural world, the PNW, faith . . .

While not as relaxing as a hammock, they’re fun exchanges. I’ve even surprised myself with stuff I’ve never articulated before. A clarifying practice, and good for me, I think.

And I hope enlightening for you. Below are links to several interviews, each with slants as distinctive as the wonderful interviewers inquiring.

Enjoy!

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Host Dillon Honcoop, The Farming Show, KGMI:

Farming Show August 7, 2021

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Host Meg Nocero, Manifesting with Meg: Conversations with Extraordinary People

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PBS/NPR Affiliate Shelly Irwin at WGVU:

https://www.wgvunews.org/the-wgvu-morning-show/2021-08-06/sugar-birds

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The Culture Buzz with John Busbee at

https://archive.org/details/cheryl-grey-bostrom-aut.-aug-2021-sugar-birds-online-audio-converter.com

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Jean Book Nerd:

https://www.jeanbooknerd.com/2021/08/cheryl-grey-bostrom-interview-sugar.html

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Dead Darlings:

https://deaddarlings.com/meet-cheryl-bostrom-author-sugar-birds/

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Women Writers Women’s Books, Author Interviewing Characters Series:

Author Interviewing Characters Series: Cheryl Grey Bostrom

Book blogger Deborah Kalb:

https://deborahkalbbooks.blogspot.com/2021/08/q-with-cheryl-grey-bostrom.html

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Authors Answer:

https://www.authorsanswer.com/interviews/cheryl-grey-bostrom

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The Indie View:

http://www.theindieview.com/2021/08/07/indieview-with-cheryl-grey-bostrom-author-of-sugar-birds/

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The Julie Chan Show – Beyond the Book with Julie:

(We had trouble connecting for this one, so skip ahead. Our interview begins at minute 3:50.)

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Beyond the Book with Julie (@thejuliechanshow)

Sarahlyn Bruck:

https://sarahlynbruck.com/blog-bostrom/

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And now the week in pics, as posted elsewhere on SM:

Two of my reasons.

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Canada, airborne.

“O LORD, to thee will I cry: for the fire hath devoured the pastures of the wilderness, and the flame hath burned all the trees of the field.”

—Joel 1:19

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Winter soup.

“We must carry out the works of Him who sent Me as long as it is day; night is coming, when no one can work.”

—John 9:4

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Brush strokes.

“He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart…”

—Ecclesiastes 3:11

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So glad you stopped by, friends. Thanks for joining me.

Watching Nature, Seeing Life: Through His Creation, God Speaks

God And Nature Magazine: Themes and Scenes from Sugar Birds

Dive into any novel, and before long you’re visualizing the characters, imagining the landscape. For this photo essay published in the summer edition of God and Nature Magazine, I dug through my pics for scenes that capture the essence of my new novel Sugar Birds. Not exactly, of course. The pond in the story is deep in the woods. In the book, the eagle’s a juvenile, so she’s mottled, not white-headed.

But you get the idea.

Here’s that piece as it appeared in God and Nature just before the book released last week:

[Themes and Scenes from] Sugar Birds

By Cheryl Grey Bostrom

Trials. This past year has certainly seen its share of them, with severity that has caused many to search for meaning in their pain—and to wonder about the goodness of God. In my forthcoming novel Sugar Birds, ten-year-old Aggie also asks those questions. When an accidental fire drives her into rugged Pacific Northwest forest, suffering compels her to question her father’s teaching about the character of God. She looks to creation—especially birds—for answers, in Washington scenes like these: 
​
Captions include quotes from the book.

 Pond, NW Whatcom County. 
​“She sank to her ankles in soothing mud. . . In its center, clear water . . . spilled into a larger, duckweed-covered pond a baseball toss away.”

“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you.”
Isaiah 43:2
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Ospreys, aka Fish Eagles, river fishing.
“Ahead of her, its talons leading, a black and white blur splashed and sank into the river . . . Then the skinny raptor erupted from the water, a trout glinting silver in its claws.” 

​ “But those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.”             
Isaiah 40:31

Rural Whatcom County, pre-dawn.
“Enormous trees lined the fields and hills between me and those mountains and beckoned me like mothers who care . . .”

“Because of the Lord’s great love, we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning . . .”
​Lamentations 3:22-23

Bald Eagle, unperturbed.
“A pair of crows mobbed her, diving at her head and back until she launched again and flapped a slow, powerful rhythm across the river and greening valley.”

​”Does the eagle soar at your command and build its nest on high? It dwells on a cliff and stays there at night; a rocky crag is its stronghold.”
​Job 39:27-28

Whatcom County Sunrise.
“Downstream from where the osprey landed, dense trees, their needles and leaves knit together above thick undergrowth, lined the bank.”

“The angel of the LORD found her by a spring of water in the wilderness . . . “
Genesis 16:7

Even in the midst of suffering, through his creation and his Word, God speaks love to us.

Award-winning author Cheryl Grey Bostrom is a Pacific Northwest native, naturalist, and avid photographer. A former teacher and columnist, she lives with her husband and two irrepressible Gordon setters in rural Washington State. Her novel SUGAR BIRDS releases August 3, 2021. 

God & Nature magazine is a publication of the American Scientific Affiliation, an international network of Christians in science: http://www.asa3.org

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And now, a few pics taken around our place and posted on SM earlier this week:

Keep Currant..

“So keep watch at all times, and pray that you may have the strength to escape all that is about to happen and to stand before the Son of Man.”

—Luke 21:36

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This is the wood that warms the house

that came from the rounds

that came from the trees

that came from the land

that came from the world that God built.

“He plants a fir, and the rain makes it grow. Then it becomes something for a man to burn, so he takes one of them and warms himself.”

—Isaiah 44:14-15.

“Is the axe to boast itself over the one who chops with it? Is the saw to exalt itself over the one who wields it?”

—Isaiah 10:15

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Unfurgettable?

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First light, first flight.

“If I rise on the wings of the dawn . . . even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.”

—Psalm 139: 9-10

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Thanks for reading, friends. So glad you’re here.

Watching Nature, Seeing Life: Through His Creation, God Speaks

Sugar Birds Launch Event: Watch it here!

She arrived full-term and well, her extremities rosy, her Apgar Score high. Then we celebrated Sugar Birds‘ birth with a festive book signing at Lynden’s Village Books and and at the online launch party! Here’s a recording of the event, where Maggie Rowe and I talked about the baby.

If you’d like to hear more, tune in HERE, where Host John Busbee interviewed me on KMFG’s The Culture Buzz in Des Moines, Iowa.

I’m still getting my interview sea legs . . . hope you can ignore my herd of “uhs.”

You’ve been asking about the AUDIOBOOK, too. I’m delighted to announce that the audio version of Sugar Birds, read by multiple-award-winning narrator Jayne Entwistle, is now live! It’s available on Audible—and about 50 other sites, but if you’d like to support independent bookstores, you can buy it HERE at libro.fm. Jayne is downright mesmerizing. I hope you enjoy her reading as much as I do.

To all of you who helped bring Sugar Birds into the world . . . THANK YOU! I’ll never find adequate words to tell you how grateful I am . . . but I’ll keep trying!

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Now, back to nature—and a few SM posts from earlier this week:

Meet Sugar Birds map artist Emma Vande Voort (R).

I LOVED working with her!

You can see her work in the book’s frontispiece.

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Moisture music.

“Sing to the LORD a new song; sing to the LORD, all the earth. Sing to the LORD, praise his name; proclaim his salvation day after day.”

—Psalm 96:1-2

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The moon is always round.

—J. Gibson

(Even when . . .)

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Thanks for stopping by, friends. So glad you’re here.

Watching Nature, Seeing Life: Through His Creation, God Speaks.

HOW I RATE BOOKS: A Rubric for Star Ratings

On a scale of one to five . . .

Some of you have asked me how I rate the books I review. You know, those little stars at the top. How do I decide how many?

That’s very good—and very important—question, since stars have a big impact on a book’s life and pathway out there in the wild world.

In the old days, I rarely gave a book five stars. A true ratings miser, I only lit all five of those pointy little celestial bodies when everything about the book was blow-me-off-my-feet, stick-with-me-forever marvelous beyond description. After all, how could I put any book in the same category as To Kill A Mockingbird? Back then, if you suggested I pin that coveted five-star rating on a lesser novel, I just couldn’t do it.

If I’m honest, I also have to admit that I liked feeling that little surge of power as I sat on my desk chair throne, my index finger hovering like a scepter over that star bar. It was way, way too easy for me to slap two or three stars on a book—an evaluation often based on arbitrary judgments not about the book’s quality, but about whether or not the book served my tastes or needs or interests or opinions. I gave little consideration to whether or not I was harming a solidly written book’s trajectory, or if I was being unneccessarily harsh with an author who didn’t see things like I did or who didn’t write in a style or genre I preferred.

I blush just thinking about it.

And I remember a kid I knew in high school, who used to say to anyone getting a little too big for their britches, “Who died and made you God?”

Later, I went to writing conferences and joined writing groups, where I connected with fellow writers at all stages in their publishing journeys. I saw firsthand their devotion to craft, and the diligent, often solitary and gut-wrenching efforts they put into their books. They dug deep and worked hard—often for years on a single project. As my awe and respect for them grew, I ditched that scepter and instead yearned to give them ALL five stars . . . A+ for effort, every single one.

One problem swapped for another—obviously. Not a bit helpful to readers, or advertisers, or influencers who count on star ratings to guide their choices and recommendations. And it sure didn’t help those hard-working writers of good books when I hurt their ratings with star stinginess, or when I instead coddled the authors whose books weren’t yet ready for market.

So, after researching protocols and advice from a variety of seasoned reviewers and book bloggers, here’s what I do now:

I neither skimp on stars nor slather them, and I try to assign stars according to consistent standards. A grading scale I found on fictionophile.com helped me a lot. It made sense to me (a former teacher), and agreed with what I found on other respected sites. Here’s what that top book blogger wrote:

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AMAZON STAR RATINGS for Books, DEFINED

5 STARS is an A, A-, or even a B+. This means you enjoyed the book. It fulfilled the measure of its creation. The 5-star novel was enjoyable, didn’t have any major plot holes, and the writing was good enough that you’d recommend it as a nice read. Five stars doesn’t mean the book has to be the best you’ve ever read, or even better than the last one you reviewed. It just has to be a good novel.

 4 STARS is a B, B-, or even a C+ novel. The 4-star rating is for novels that you liked but had at least one issue with. A plot hole that disturbed your reading enough that you didn’t enjoy the overall story. Maybe a few too many typos. Too much repetition. But you still found the story compelling enough to read in a short time and you enjoyed it. The novel doesn’t have to be the best one you’ve read in the genre, it just has to hold your attention. 

3 STARS is a C or a C-. So only average or NEUTRAL. You neither liked it or disliked it. This really is the kiss of death rating. The “okay” novel. If you give a novel this rating, there should be SERIOUS issues because, remember, many advertisers won’t accept novels with this overall rating. So the 3-star novel should be one you didn’t feel compelled to finish, or one whose overall plot didn’t quite make sense (and you feel wouldn’t make sense to others). This is a novel that you wouldn’t recommend unless it was the only thing someone had to read and they were stuck in an airport for two hours. 

2 STARS is a D or a D-. This is a novel that has at least three major negative issues and you feel these issues will prevent others from enjoying it at all. 

1 STAR means F. The author completely and utterly failed. You hated it totally and absolutely. That means there was no plot, it was riddled with grammar errors, and everything about it was boring, boring, boring. The author should throw the book away. Never give an author a one-star review unless you feel they really should give up writing and get a job at the local grocery instead.

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I like this rubric, and though it’s tailored for Amazon, and for fiction, for consistency’s sake I use it on every site to which I post a star-rated review. It’s as objective as an assessment of “enjoyable” can be , speaks to a book’s overall quality, and keeps my opinions about a single element in a book from swaying my star-rating.

Also, if my rating falls between stars, I always round UP, never down.

My written review then elaborates on whatever elements of the story I’d like to focus on, as well as my feelings about the book’s content or style. If the book really wowed me, here’s where I can distinguish it from less wonderful 5 star books. If I give it 4 stars instead of 5, I say why.

Often, I won’t review a book. If you’ve tracked my reviews, you’ll notice that most have 4 or 5 star ratings, and I usually say pretty nice things about them. That’s because these days I don’t review books I can’t give 4 or 5 stars—and there are a lot of them. Some have so many issues that I simply choose not to finish them; others absolutely aren’t for me, for a variety of reasons; and others I quietly lay aside, sad that the author or her publisher delivered her potentially beautiful baby to the market before the book was ready for birth.

Sometimes, if an author still wants my thoughts about her work, I may review her 1-3 star book privately with her, in a manner that can help her improve her craft, or develop her ideas, or tap new information. I do it congenially, instead of waving a nasty scepter of rejection.

‘Nuff said. My TBR (To Be Read) pile could easily hide small dogs right now, and I’d better get to it.

Hope this helps your own review process.

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Now a few pics I posted earlier this week:

Bit player, stage right. (See her? …the tiny bug on the petal?).”

I cry out to God Most High, to God who will fulfill his purpose for me.”

—Psalm 57:2

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When mama possum leaves her kids by our gate for a sunbath.

Our dogs were heading their way, so I moved these little guys outside the fence . . .

where they trailed back to Mama.

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When just-turned seven means all this.. . .

All this.

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And in THREE DAYS, this Tuesday, August 3, Sugar Birds will arrive in paper, ebook, and audiobook!

LAUNCH DAY EVENTS

If you’re local, please drop by Village Books in Lynden at noon on launch day! I’ll be signing books there, and would LOVE to see you IN PERSON!

Then, from 5 -6 pm PDT, will you come to Sugar Birds’s virtual launch party? You can watch it on Zoom or simply listen on your phone as author Maggie Wallem Rowe and I chat about the book. Click here to get your (free) ticket—and a copy of the book, if you haven’t already preordered one (or if you want another for a gift)!

Thanks for coming alongside me through all this book marketing stuff, friends. Your patience as the book consumes so much of my blog and SM space has been heartwarming, and I’m grateful for your kindness and support.

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Watching Nature, Seeing Life: Through His Creation, God Speaks

ON CAMERA: Cheryl Bostrom and Deb Beddoe talk Genre

Recently Deb Beddoe of The Well Writer Chats and I talked book genres generally, and literary fiction specifically—and how Sugar Birds found its market categories. The recording went live on her YouTube channel and her IG Summer School Edition @The_Well_Writer this week. This was my first go at a podcast-style recording, so I hope you can look past my nerves and, if you’re a writer, find something useful either for positioning your work in the market or for your writing process.

For those of you reading Sugar Birds, this interview’s a fun glimpse at the book’s creation.

Enjoy!

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And around our place this past week, these pics, posted earlier to SM:

When the tiniest cottontail runs from your dogs into your laundry room . . .

. . . you wrap it in a towel and carry it to safety. .

“You are my hiding place;you will protect me from trouble and surround me with songs of deliverance.”

—Psalm 32:7

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Hold that thought.

“Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.”

—Philippians 4:8

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Fast food.

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LAUNCH DAY EVENTS

 If you’re local, please drop by Village Books in Lynden at noon on launch day, August 3! I’ll be signing books there, and would LOVE to see you IN PERSON!

Then, from 5 -6 pm PDT, will you come to Sugar Birds’s virtual launch party? You can watch it on Zoom or simply listen on your phone as author Maggie Wallem Rowe and I chat about the book. Click here to get your (free) ticket.

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Thanks for visiting, friends. So glad you stopped by!

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Watching Nature, Seeing Life: Through His Creation, God Speaks

BOOK CLUB QUESTIONS for SUGAR BIRDS

Your book clubs are lining up their new reads for fall, and I’m hearing that Sugar Birds is one of them! Now if that doesn’t do an author girl’s heart good, I don’t know what will.

As promised, here are some book club questions for you. Too many to cover in one sitting, but you can pick and choose. I’ll also post them on my BOOKS page, or you can download them in a Word doc from the tab to the right.

Book Club Questions for Sugar Birdsbook-club-questions-for-sugar-birds-1Download

Why does Aggie’s dad Harris teach his daughter to sketch birds? What does he want her to look for? Does she ever find it?Fathers play a significant role in the novel. How do their presence and absence affect Aggie? Celia? Cabot?Fearful mother Bree believes she can keep Aggie safe by controlling her environment. Aggie believes the forest will protect her. The Heidelberg catechism challenges the concept of external safety: “Lord’s Day Nineteen . . . Second, by his power, he defends us and keeps us safe from all enemies.” Discuss the themes of fear and safety in the novel.Both Celia and Aggie are deeply wounded by their mothers. Discuss the specifics, as well as the girls’ longings, responses and outcomes.How does Aggie’s guilt distort her perceptions of people and influence her choices? Consider how she, and we, create our own exiles.Is Celia’s father Wyatt justified when he tricks Celia into coming north? What could he have done differently? Discuss violation of trust—and its consequences—in the novel.Discuss the influence grandmother Mender has on Celia. Evaluate pros and cons of her example/mentorship.Connect the wild forest to the characters’ inner wildernesses. How does the natural world affect Aggie? Celia?How do autism and synesthesia manifest in Burnaby? Explore how both syndromes enhance and restrict his keen intelligence. How is his position on the spectrum both a benefit and a challenge in his relationships?Does Aggie perceive her Uncle Loomis and Aunt Nora accurately? Does her understanding of them change? Explain.How does Cabot’s history shape his behavior? How does Celia’s sympathy for his difficult past make her vulnerable to his manipulation?  What clues to Cabot’s narcissism does Celia dismiss at first?How does Aggie’s suffering cause her to question what her dad has told her about the Father? Do later events cause her to reconsider? How?“Consider the birds . . .” appears in the book’s front matter. Discuss the role birds play in the story’s themes of redemption and hope. Where else does redemption appear?Discuss where and how the theme of forgiveness appears in the story.For over a month, no one can find Aggie. Discuss how searchers’ assumptions/expectations limit their ability to find her.  How do other characters’ assumptions/expectations limit their understanding of Burnaby? How are we similarly limited?How do Aggie’s wound and Bree’s brain heal?What happens (internally and externally) to both Bree and Aggie to reunite them?Explore how Celia and Aggie change over the course of the story. Consider their growth (or lack of it) in compassion, resilience and purpose.What sentence or paragraph would you want to read aloud to someone? Why did it resonate with you?What is a Sugar Bird? Explore the significance of the book’s title.

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And I’d also like to invite you to . . .

 MARK YOUR CALENDARS for AUGUST 3!

Come to my LAUNCH DAY BOOK SIGNING in Lynden!

Tue, 08/03/2021 – 12:00pm to 1:00pm at

Village Books
430 Front St
Lynden, WA 98264

Village Books will have lots of copies of Sugar Birds available.

Whether you buy one or not, please stop by and say HI!  Can’t wait to see you IN PERSON:).

The VIRTUAL LAUNCH PARTY will be later that day. You can get your (free) ticket HERE.

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And of course here’s some nature sweetness for you in SM posts from earlier this week:

Smell pie?

“But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.”

—Romans 8:25

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Three of the four hatched! Mama song sparrow sat her nest all through those days over 106 degrees. Everything I read said 104 degrees was max tolerance for passerine eggs. So so happy to see these little ones. .

“Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care.”

—Matthew 10:29

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When you grow anyway.

“And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight…”

—Philippians 1:9

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Thanks for stopping by, friends. So glad you’re here.

Watching Nature, Seeing Life: Through His Creation, God Speaks.

A Taste of Sugar Birds: An Excerpt

Fiction lovers, this post is for YOU! In this month’s edition of The Redbud Post, you’ll find a collection of both stand alone and excerpted fiction, including a taste of Sugar Birds! As editor Stephanie Reeves writes,

“I’m delighted to share with you this month seven pieces of fictional writing from our Redbud writers . . . for your summer reading pleasure. . . These words will delight and intrigue you as you enter into a creative space that reflects the creativity of our creator God.”

I hope you’ll head over to the The Redbud Post via the link above or HERE, but in the meantime, here’s the excerpt from Sugar Birds, which will be released in print, ebook and audiobook on August 3.

Hope it captures you.

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From Chapter 2 – Aggie: Rubble

Sometime in the night, she startled awake as Mama snatched her blankets and hurled them from the bed. “Aggie! Hurry!” her mother shouted, raspy, as she hauled Aggie from her mattress onto the carpet. “Fire!”

Aggie rose to her elbows, coughing. Her movements were jerky, her brain ragged with sleep and fumes. Mama dropped to the floor beside her and tugged her shirt. “This way.”  

Smoke bellied over them as Aggie crawled after her mother, her hammering heart a blood drum in her ears. When they reached the stairs, Mama gripped her hand, and they groped their way to the back entry. Mama fumbled with the lock, threw the door open, and yanked Aggie past the porch and across the yard to the ancient maple at the lawn’s edge.

She pushed Aggie’s shoulders against the tree. “Stay here,” she barked, wheezing from the smoke. “Your dad . . . his fiddle.” 

“No, Mama!” Aggie snared her mother’s nightgown, clawed it toward her. Mama wrenched, ripped the fabric from Aggie’s hands, and darted back to the burning house.

Aggie flattened herself against the trunk and slid into a crouch. And then, horror: flames gulped air through the open door and jumped into her mother’s hair as she disappeared inside. “Noooo!” Aggie fought her seizing muscles, leapt the porch steps in stiff strides. A whip of fire stopped her at the doorway. Unbearable heat bullied her backwards.

“Harris!” Mama wailed from somewhere inside. Voices melted in the roar. 

Aggie flew off the porch through a swarm of sparks and raced the log home’s perimeter, skirting wide past windows that, opened for night air, now spewed licking tendrils of flame. A timber popped and sprayed pulsing embers across the lawn. Numb from adrenaline and terror, she plowed across them in bare feet. 

At the front door, she hesitated at the handle’s thumb plate, glowing red with heat; covered her ears at the maniacal crackle of flames inside. Then she jammed her hand into a boot on the landing, struck the latch, and shoved. 

Locked.

Panting with fear, she pounded the boot’s heel on the door and bleated, “Mama! Dad!” 

She flung the boot onto the lawn and again sprinted around the house, searching for access, but all the windows bloomed in the darkness, pushing, pushing fronds of flame out toward the sentinel firs at the yard’s edge. Could she climb in through the crawl space, through the trapdoor in the pantry? There had to be a way.

But no. The house screamed as the logs whistled and exploded in the heat. Flames punched outward from every window and doorway. She sped the circumference of the house again and again, but no route inside remained to her.

Beaten back to the trees, she doubled over, struggling for air and coughing up the acrid taste of ash. She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, sealing them against the smoke’s sting, and rubbed until she could again squint at the flames, at the charred ground, at a seared circle in the grass at her feet.

Her campfire circle.

Her campfire.

A scorched trail led from the circle to some blazing lumber stacked by the house. With temples pounding, she stared at the smoldering path. This nightmare. Her fault. Her head hung over the blackened earth, her mouth agape.

The realization dizzied her, gutted her with dread. She tripped, righted herself, and tore back to the big maple where her mother had left her. She scrambled up the two-by-fours nailed to the old trunk, a ladder to her leaf-veiled treehouse, where guilt collapsed her over the little cabin’s half wall. Riveted to the unfolding devastation, she flailed against blame until shock lifted her outside of herself, detached her from the body she no longer wanted to claim as her own. Until denial, in a brief respite, made her an observer, not the cause. Yes. An observer. Of that girl in the treehouse. That girl crying. That girl who lit a fire.

Sirens wailed along the road. Smoke billowed around her, and she held her sleeve over her nose and mouth as fire trucks and an ambulance rolled in a procession down the driveway, their lights strobing the yard and barn. Men in heavy brown suits shouted, hefted fat hoses, and sprayed. 

Water dented the blaze, then vaporized. The fire roared back, engulfing the logs and penetrating them until curved trunks glowed and exploded. Firefighters receded into the inferno. Aggie watched dumbly as a section of roof collapsed and her bedroom opened to the spark-filled sky. Fire stormed through the hole.

A firefighter crossed the porch carrying a limp body. Behind him, two more emerged with another lifeless form slung between them. When a man shouted, Aggie’s hands flew to her open mouth. Had he said, “Gone”? She wasn’t sure, but she thought so. Gone? Did that mean they were dead?

She fell forward on the treehouse planks, her breath shallow, the whump of falling timbers thundering around her. Sirens screamed. Orange light shimmered through cracks between boards; shadows contorted on the ceiling.

Then even more smoke, as firefighters fought the blaze. Someone called her name over and over, but trauma immobilized her, rendered her thoughts erratic and muddled. She wouldn’t answer. Couldn’t. 

By the time dim morning light crept over her, the dying fire chewed quietly. Aggie pulled herself up the half wall and absorbed the scene. Embers snapped in black rubble where her home once stood. Only one man sprayed hot spots; others coiled hoses and stowed ladders. 

And then they got into the trucks and drove them away down the road.

Her mind tripped and stalled with exhaustion and shock. Oh, her mama. Her dad. Gone. Gone.

To the hospital? A blip of hope rallied her, then died. She had seen those bodies, heard the firefighters yell. Her chest clenched, wringing her insides hard, like a dishcloth. Dad. Mama. She killed them with those sticks. With her fire. She beat her legs with clenched fists, bit her cheeks, tasted blood.

Her eyes flitted randomly. Think, Aggie. She couldn’t stay here. If they caught her, they’d take her to jail. Well, to juvie. And according to scary Mike Mackey, who knew firsthand, that was as bad as jail any old day. 

She had slouched low in her school bus seat in front of Mike while he told Joe Paulson how an officer patted him down and searched his pockets and then took all his clothes and felt him all over for hidden stuff. How they put chains around his belly and irons on his legs when they took him to court. Chains! How the toilet was out in the open and he had to poop right in front of everybody. When he lowered his voice and told Joe what the dirty boys there did to him, Aggie had started to shake. 

The memory galvanized her, nearly propelled her down the treehouse ladder. She would find her uncle’s farm. Find Burnaby.

Then a terrifying image of Uncle Loomis, his face skewed with rage, floated enormous and close.

She flattened herself against the treehouse wall and shut her eyes, reliving the fright from two months earlier, on the Saturday Burnaby first drove his new truck to the farm. After she promised to rake compost for Aunt Nora, Mama had agreed to let Aggie go with him.

Aggie had waved at her aunt through the kitchen window and skipped to the calf shed to let the newborns suck her fingers with their foamy mouths. From a mound by the door, she scooped a bucketful of fuzzy cotton seeds and poured little piles of them near yearling heifers grazing outside. A few were nosing the treats when Uncle Loomis climbed through the fence and lunged at her. He gripped her shoulder, leaving dirty fingerprints on her shirt, then bent low and thumped her chest. 

“Wasting rations! Lost your brains?” 

She dropped her head. 

“Listen up, girl,” he hissed, his spittle spraying her face. She focused on his tangled eyebrows, dodging his speckled eyes. “I don’t need no more rats around here, stealing my feed.” 

Aggie had avoided her uncle ever since. And now? If Uncle Loomis threw a fit over a few cotton seeds, what would he do to her now, after she burned down her house? 

And killed my parents. She plucked at her pajamas and cringed. She was too bad for anyone to help. Too awful. Uncle Loomis. Burnaby. Everyone would hate her. 

Such a tiny, practice fire. She put dirt on it, didn’t she? But not enough. And she flicked those embers all over the place. Mama was right. She was too hasty. Careless. Ohhh. The groan roiled inside her. Grief punched her guts. 

A car engine alerted her to a sheriff’s rig crawling up the dusty lane. In the early sunlight, smoke hung over the wreckage like gold fog, blurring the uniformed men into specters who circled and poked at the smoldering ruins. One of them said her name. 

Still trembling, Aggie dropped down the far side of the tree, where they wouldn’t see her, and fled. 

Excerpted from Sugar Birds: A Novel, by Cheryl Grey Bostrom, releasing August 3, 2021. Available for preorder at Village Books or your favorite bookseller. 

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YOU’RE INVITED!!

AUGUST 3 PRE-LAUNCH BOOK SIGNING

from noon to 1:00 pm at

Village Books

430 Front St

Lynden, WA 98264

Stop by, say hi, and get your book signed!

THEN at 5:00 pm, I’d love to have you join fellow author Maggie Wallem Rowe and me at Sugar Birds‘s VIRTUAL LAUNCH on Zoom. We’ll chat about writing and books for an hour—and in our GIVEAWAY, I’ll draw book winners from names of those attending!

Get your (free) ticket HERE.

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And now a few SM posts from earlier this week:

Fledging tree swallows in our silver maple—the babies’ first perch ever.

When you leave home for the very first time. .

“The Lord bless you and keep you; The Lord make His face shine upon you, And be gracious to you; The Lord lift up His countenance upon you, And give you peace.”

—Numbers 6:24–26

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The tease in teasels :).

How teasels tease.

“Whoever winks the eye causes trouble…”

—Proverbs 10:10

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When the rancher’s wife is a stylist . . .

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So glad you stopped by.

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Watching Nature, Seeing Life: Through His Creation, God Speaks

YOU’RE INVITED!

It’s a PARTY! Will you join me?

It’s a baby shower, of sorts, celebrating SUGAR BIRDS‘s birth. Or a graduation, as the novel leaves the publishing house, polished and ready for readers. Or a commissioning, as the story finds its way in the world.

It’s also a THANK YOU, to you who have encouraged and prayed, edited and reviewed, read ARCs and shared your enthusiasm for the novel.

And it’s an introduction to the story, for those who want to know more.

Officially, it’s SUGAR BIRDS‘s ONLINE LAUNCH PARTY, hosted by Village Books!

No dress code.

Whatever you want to eat or drink. (B.Y.O.)

Book giveaways.

Good conversation.

Lasts one hour, start to finish.

(And there may be puns.)

DETAILS:

Tuesday, August 3, at 5:00 pm Pacific time, so you early-to-bed East Coasties can even wear jammies.

Free admission, but you’ll need a ticket (see below).

It’s a Zoom webinar, which means I won’t see your kind faces or hear your voices. So . . . you can tune in while you’re driving home from work, or fixing dinner, or canoeing, or weeding, or lying in your hammock under some trees.

You don’t even have to watch us. Simply listening will be fun, too, because author Maggie Rowe, who will be interviewing me, is a hoot. I’ll have names of ticket-holders in a hat, and will draw three winners of a signed Sugar Birds paperback. We’ll have a Q & A at the end, and you can ask me anything in the chat. (Um . . . almost. )

Will you come?

You can get your ticket HERE.

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And now some shots I shared on SM during our cooker of a week. (108 degree high here in the far NW corner of Washington State!)

Sky bowling.

“The day is yours, and yours also the night; you established the sun and moon.”

—Psalm 74:16

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Blue plus green.

“He is like a tree planted by water, that sends out its roots by the stream, and does not fear when heat comes . . . “

—Jeremiah 17:8

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Shade seekers.

“They heard the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and the man and his wife hid themselves…”

—Genesis 3:8

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Easy (vole) pickins.

“May God give you of the dew of heaven and of the fatness of the earth . . . “

—Genesis 27:28

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And just yesterday, my publicist sent THIS! Click HERE to read more . . .

Thanks for stopping by, friends. “See” you at the PARTY!

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Watching Nature, Seeing Life: Through His Creation, God Speaks.