Cathy Liggett's Blog
November 29, 2017
Last Day to get BEADED HOPE for .99 cents!
Writing Beaded Hope took me on quite an emotional journey as you can read in my blog: http://www.cathyliggett.com/part-1-th...
It just might take you on one too!
This is the last day to get the Beaded Hope e-book for under $1. https://www.tyndale.com/p/beaded-hope...
Would love to hear if it takes you on a journey too!
Happy Day to you!
It just might take you on one too!
This is the last day to get the Beaded Hope e-book for under $1. https://www.tyndale.com/p/beaded-hope...
Would love to hear if it takes you on a journey too!
Happy Day to you!
November 20, 2017
The Sisters of Sugarcreek goes Top 10!
So excited to learn that The Sisters of Sugarcreek made Booklist's Top 10 list for Inspirational Fiction in 2017. Thank you, Booklist!!
https://www.booklistonline.com/Top-10...
https://www.booklistonline.com/Top-10...
November 7, 2017
Beaded Hope e-book - Now only .99 cents!
What can you get for under $1.00 ???
How about a trip across the world and back with 3 ladies others have come to know and love?
The award-winning BEADED HOPE e-book is NOW ONLY .99 CENTS at all of your favorite booksellers
throughout the month of November.
HERE's the Link for this special offer: https://www.tyndale.com/p/beaded-hope...
How about a trip across the world and back with 3 ladies others have come to know and love?
The award-winning BEADED HOPE e-book is NOW ONLY .99 CENTS at all of your favorite booksellers
throughout the month of November.
HERE's the Link for this special offer: https://www.tyndale.com/p/beaded-hope...
July 23, 2017
The Sisters of Sugarcreek -Now on Sale!
The Sisters of Sugarcreek
is on SALE!
It’s summer. Time to relax. Sit back. And enjoy meeting new friends! Like Jessica, Liz and Lydia in The Sisters of Sugarcreek.
They’re an unlikely trio of English and Amish ladies who find themselves in the direst circumstances.
The kind of happenings which could lead them to total despair or to become the best of friends.
Share in their journey, laughter, tears, and possible new loves –
for the COOL eBook price of only $2.99!
Here’s the link for this deal from your favorite bookseller:
https://www.tyndale.com/p/the-sisters...
($2.99 - That’s less than an iced vanilla latte!)
Offer good July 16th – July 29th only, so don’t wait!
is on SALE!
It’s summer. Time to relax. Sit back. And enjoy meeting new friends! Like Jessica, Liz and Lydia in The Sisters of Sugarcreek.
They’re an unlikely trio of English and Amish ladies who find themselves in the direst circumstances.
The kind of happenings which could lead them to total despair or to become the best of friends.
Share in their journey, laughter, tears, and possible new loves –
for the COOL eBook price of only $2.99!
Here’s the link for this deal from your favorite bookseller:
https://www.tyndale.com/p/the-sisters...
($2.99 - That’s less than an iced vanilla latte!)
Offer good July 16th – July 29th only, so don’t wait!
March 10, 2017
The Stories Behind the Stories
Christine Henderson is busy getting to know Goodreads authors on her blog.
I was lucky to have her interview me too!
Her "Let's Write" site is:
http://thewritechris.blogspot.com/
And if you're interested, the link to my interview is:
http://thewritechris.blogspot.com/201...
I was lucky to have her interview me too!
Her "Let's Write" site is:
http://thewritechris.blogspot.com/
And if you're interested, the link to my interview is:
http://thewritechris.blogspot.com/201...
February 28, 2017
Beaded Hope Giveaway to Honor Those Who Gave So Much!
Giving Away a copy of Beaded Hope on this last day of February. All you need to do is mention the name of a female who has touched your life to enter the giveaway.
Beaded Hope was an ACFW Carol Award winner for Women's Fiction and I couldn't have done it without 3 incredibly special ladies who passed away several years ago - one week after each other - in the month of February. They were - my unbelievably awesome mom who encouraged me in so many ways including my writing, and Mama Peggy and Mighty, two faith-filled, selfless women who were the inspiration for the book. I feel so thankful that God allowed these women to bless my life and would like to honor their memory as the month comes to an end.
Beaded Hope was an ACFW Carol Award winner for Women's Fiction and I couldn't have done it without 3 incredibly special ladies who passed away several years ago - one week after each other - in the month of February. They were - my unbelievably awesome mom who encouraged me in so many ways including my writing, and Mama Peggy and Mighty, two faith-filled, selfless women who were the inspiration for the book. I feel so thankful that God allowed these women to bless my life and would like to honor their memory as the month comes to an end.
February 14, 2017
Any Little House on the Prairie fans?
Didn't you just love all the Little House on the Prairie books when you were a young girl?
I noticed Laura Ingalls Wilder was born on Feb. 6,1867. She passed away at age 90 on today's date 60 years ago. Wow - did she see ever see a lot of changes in the world!
“As you read my stories of long ago I hope you will remember that things truly worthwhile and that will give you happiness are the same now as they were then. It is not the things you have that make you happy. It is love and kindness and helping each other and just plain being good. ”
I noticed Laura Ingalls Wilder was born on Feb. 6,1867. She passed away at age 90 on today's date 60 years ago. Wow - did she see ever see a lot of changes in the world!
“As you read my stories of long ago I hope you will remember that things truly worthwhile and that will give you happiness are the same now as they were then. It is not the things you have that make you happy. It is love and kindness and helping each other and just plain being good. ”
January 17, 2017
Amish Sunshine on a Cloudy Day
Recently got back from walking our Chazzer in the chilly, pouring rain. She didn't mind the cold or raindrops at all, of course, and just kept puttering along, taking her time sniffing this bush and that tree trunk all along our way. Yet as I juggled dog leash, dog bag, and umbrella, and while rain pelted the legs of my jeans and leaked into my boots, I have to admit I wasn't liking our outing very much.
Which got me to feeling kind of wimpy. Especially when thoughts of Lydia -- my Amish fiction character -- crossed my mind, reminding me of how grateful and strong she was in every situation. And she was a great teacher too!
I thought I knew all I needed to know about the simplicity of the Amish way of life, but things came up when writing and luckily Lydia was there to teach me. Such as...
Did you know (and pardon me if you already do):
- Besides buggies, many of the Amish ride bikes to town for shopping or to jobs in every kind of inclement whether -- brrr!!! As one who complains about drenching dog walks, I'd need to get much braver and more weather-proofed do to that!
- In order to make a phone call, most Amish have to use a phone shanty (kind of like our old-fashioned phone booths which I have to admit I miss). The shanties are at the end of a lane or by the side of the road and shared by several families. Actually, a friend told me recently that when her brother was getting kitchen cabinets made by an Amish carpenter, that the son of the carpenter would literally sit in the shanty for hours and wait for her brother's call so they could sync up meeting times.
- Amish church isn't held in a building, but rather in homes and barns. Many Amish church districts own a bench wagon full of backless benches, which are transported from house to house for the three-hour services.
- Unlike my other English characters, Lydia couldn't communicate with her mom in Pennsylvania with a text or email. She wrote letters - which I love to think about. Didn't it always feel great back in the day to get a letter -- a real, honest-to-goodness letter in the mail? Ahhh!
- And the proverbs! Amish proverbs are addicting. You read one and you want to read one more...and then just one more. They are so clever, many tongue in cheek and hit home in at way that most sayings don't.
In fact, the next time I'm out walking Chaz in the rain, I should remember any one of these golden nuggets!
**It takes both sunny and rainy days
to make a life complete.**
**A negative attitude is like a flat tire,
you won't get very far without changing it!**
**If you can't have the best of everything,
make the best of everything you have.**
Which got me to feeling kind of wimpy. Especially when thoughts of Lydia -- my Amish fiction character -- crossed my mind, reminding me of how grateful and strong she was in every situation. And she was a great teacher too!
I thought I knew all I needed to know about the simplicity of the Amish way of life, but things came up when writing and luckily Lydia was there to teach me. Such as...
Did you know (and pardon me if you already do):
- Besides buggies, many of the Amish ride bikes to town for shopping or to jobs in every kind of inclement whether -- brrr!!! As one who complains about drenching dog walks, I'd need to get much braver and more weather-proofed do to that!
- In order to make a phone call, most Amish have to use a phone shanty (kind of like our old-fashioned phone booths which I have to admit I miss). The shanties are at the end of a lane or by the side of the road and shared by several families. Actually, a friend told me recently that when her brother was getting kitchen cabinets made by an Amish carpenter, that the son of the carpenter would literally sit in the shanty for hours and wait for her brother's call so they could sync up meeting times.
- Amish church isn't held in a building, but rather in homes and barns. Many Amish church districts own a bench wagon full of backless benches, which are transported from house to house for the three-hour services.
- Unlike my other English characters, Lydia couldn't communicate with her mom in Pennsylvania with a text or email. She wrote letters - which I love to think about. Didn't it always feel great back in the day to get a letter -- a real, honest-to-goodness letter in the mail? Ahhh!
- And the proverbs! Amish proverbs are addicting. You read one and you want to read one more...and then just one more. They are so clever, many tongue in cheek and hit home in at way that most sayings don't.
In fact, the next time I'm out walking Chaz in the rain, I should remember any one of these golden nuggets!
**It takes both sunny and rainy days
to make a life complete.**
**A negative attitude is like a flat tire,
you won't get very far without changing it!**
**If you can't have the best of everything,
make the best of everything you have.**
December 19, 2016
In this Season of Inspiration are you remembering anyone who has inspired you?
It's just a coincidence that Pete Hershberger has a last name that's common to a lot of Amish folks, and that I also dedicated my book The Sisters of Sugarcreek to him which is set in the Amish town of Sugarcreek, Ohio. I can't be certain if any of Pete's ancestors were Amish, but I know he wasn't.
Pete's family lived around the corner from mine during a lot of our growing up years. I don't remember him venturing up Zig Zag road to our cul-de-sac to play baseball or touch football very often. I do, however, remember traipsing down the street his way and playing in the woods behind his house once in a while.
But, honestly, none of those distant memories have anything to do with the reason I wanted to put Pete's name on my Sisters of Sugarcreek dedication page. Rather, it was more current interactions with Pete that had me doing that.
Long before I saw Pete at our most recent high school reunion a few years ago, I'd heard through the grapevine that he'd been diagnosed with Parkinson's disease. A few years after hearing that news, I learned he wasn't able to work any longer. By the time I saw him at the reunion it brought a tear to my eye to see him having to be helped to stand or to get to his seat. Yet none of that seemed to stop Pete from enjoying the evening and everyone's company.
So it wasn't like Pete and I really communicated over the years, mostly I just heard things about how he was doing every so often. Yet the last two times I did happen to bump into him, he communicated much to me. In just a few words, he gave me a world of encouragement.
The first of those last times, was a couple of years ago when I ran into Pete at a visitation. He was even less unsteady on his feet than he had been a couple of years earlier at the reunion. Yet as a group of us ambled to our cars, he stopped abruptly in the parking lot, seeming intent on saying something to me. Swaying and shaking, clearly it was work for him to stand there and speak what was on his mind. And to me, the words seemed to come out of the blue. "Don't -- don't stop writing," he stammered.
A few months before Pete's passing, I saw him once more. This time his wife was pushing him in a wheelchair. They were coming into the clinic where I work so he could get some testing done. Getting words out seemed even more arduous and taxing on him than the time before when I'd seen him. But he seemed so determined. So I stood quietly, clueless as to what he wanted to say to me this time. It took major effort and many moments of time before he said the words I'd heard from him before. "Don't stop writing," he told me again.
I don't even know how Pete knew about my writing. I guess he must've heard things through the grapevine about me too. But the thing that was most remarkable to me and the biggest question I had was WHY? Why in moments when he was so clearly struggling to even form a word -- why would he be thinking of me instead of himself?
Since that time I've read and heard even more about Pete. I've read how during his 11 years as a Parkinson's disease patient, he devoted much of his time in groups involved in finding treatments and cures. I learned that he was awarded the Sunflower Victory Award which is given to those who inspire, empower and give hope to others in the Parkinson's disease community. I've also read about what a great dad he was and how his daughters could always count on him to be there for them no matter what. I learned that his wife remembers how "he always thought about everyone else before himself. Even in his most difficult days, he never complained and was kind and loving."
I have no doubt that all I've read and heard is true. Because I know firsthand how his attitude and caring in times of his own struggle inspired me and helped me through my own struggles which were so much less in comparison. Over the last couple of years as I struggled with getting Sisters right along with other issues and a health scare, I kept a post-it note with Pete's name on it right by my computer monitor. Every time I got distracted by the what-ifs of life or didn't think I could write and rewrite another page, seeing Pete's name made me think I could.
But it wasn't just encouragement that Pete gave to me. He taught me a lesson too—one I can't say I've gotten completely right yet. But I promise to keep trying! That is, no matter what is going on in my life, I need to step outside myself. I need to hear. To see. To listen. To reach out. To encourage. To give hope. I need to be there others—for someone else. Just like Pete was there for me.
Pete's family lived around the corner from mine during a lot of our growing up years. I don't remember him venturing up Zig Zag road to our cul-de-sac to play baseball or touch football very often. I do, however, remember traipsing down the street his way and playing in the woods behind his house once in a while.
But, honestly, none of those distant memories have anything to do with the reason I wanted to put Pete's name on my Sisters of Sugarcreek dedication page. Rather, it was more current interactions with Pete that had me doing that.
Long before I saw Pete at our most recent high school reunion a few years ago, I'd heard through the grapevine that he'd been diagnosed with Parkinson's disease. A few years after hearing that news, I learned he wasn't able to work any longer. By the time I saw him at the reunion it brought a tear to my eye to see him having to be helped to stand or to get to his seat. Yet none of that seemed to stop Pete from enjoying the evening and everyone's company.
So it wasn't like Pete and I really communicated over the years, mostly I just heard things about how he was doing every so often. Yet the last two times I did happen to bump into him, he communicated much to me. In just a few words, he gave me a world of encouragement.
The first of those last times, was a couple of years ago when I ran into Pete at a visitation. He was even less unsteady on his feet than he had been a couple of years earlier at the reunion. Yet as a group of us ambled to our cars, he stopped abruptly in the parking lot, seeming intent on saying something to me. Swaying and shaking, clearly it was work for him to stand there and speak what was on his mind. And to me, the words seemed to come out of the blue. "Don't -- don't stop writing," he stammered.
A few months before Pete's passing, I saw him once more. This time his wife was pushing him in a wheelchair. They were coming into the clinic where I work so he could get some testing done. Getting words out seemed even more arduous and taxing on him than the time before when I'd seen him. But he seemed so determined. So I stood quietly, clueless as to what he wanted to say to me this time. It took major effort and many moments of time before he said the words I'd heard from him before. "Don't stop writing," he told me again.
I don't even know how Pete knew about my writing. I guess he must've heard things through the grapevine about me too. But the thing that was most remarkable to me and the biggest question I had was WHY? Why in moments when he was so clearly struggling to even form a word -- why would he be thinking of me instead of himself?
Since that time I've read and heard even more about Pete. I've read how during his 11 years as a Parkinson's disease patient, he devoted much of his time in groups involved in finding treatments and cures. I learned that he was awarded the Sunflower Victory Award which is given to those who inspire, empower and give hope to others in the Parkinson's disease community. I've also read about what a great dad he was and how his daughters could always count on him to be there for them no matter what. I learned that his wife remembers how "he always thought about everyone else before himself. Even in his most difficult days, he never complained and was kind and loving."
I have no doubt that all I've read and heard is true. Because I know firsthand how his attitude and caring in times of his own struggle inspired me and helped me through my own struggles which were so much less in comparison. Over the last couple of years as I struggled with getting Sisters right along with other issues and a health scare, I kept a post-it note with Pete's name on it right by my computer monitor. Every time I got distracted by the what-ifs of life or didn't think I could write and rewrite another page, seeing Pete's name made me think I could.
But it wasn't just encouragement that Pete gave to me. He taught me a lesson too—one I can't say I've gotten completely right yet. But I promise to keep trying! That is, no matter what is going on in my life, I need to step outside myself. I need to hear. To see. To listen. To reach out. To encourage. To give hope. I need to be there others—for someone else. Just like Pete was there for me.
In this Season of Inspiration are you remembering anyone who has inspired you?
It's just a coincidence that Pete Hershberger has a last name that's common to a lot of Amish folks, and that I also dedicated my book The Sisters of Sugarcreek to him which is set in the Amish town of Sugarcreek, Ohio. I can't be certain if any of Pete's ancestors were Amish, but I know he wasn't.
Pete's family lived around the corner from mine during a lot of our growing up years. I don't remember him venturing up Zig Zag road to our cul-de-sac to play baseball or touch football very often. I do, however, remember traipsing down the street his way and playing in the woods behind his house once in a while.
But, honestly, none of those distant memories have anything to do with the reason I wanted to put Pete's name on my Sisters of Sugarcreek dedication page. Rather, it was more current interactions with Pete that had me doing that.
Long before I saw Pete at our most recent high school reunion a few years ago, I'd heard through the grapevine that he'd been diagnosed with Parkinson's disease. A few years after hearing that news, I learned he wasn't able to work any longer. By the time I saw him at the reunion it brought a tear to my eye to see him having to be helped to stand or to get to his seat. Yet none of that seemed to stop Pete from enjoying the evening and everyone's company.
So it wasn't like Pete and I really communicated over the years, mostly I just heard things about how he was doing every so often. Yet the last two times I did happen to bump into him, he communicated much to me. In just a few words, he gave me a world of encouragement.
The first of those last times, was a couple of years ago when I ran into Pete at a visitation. He was even less unsteady on his feet than he had been a couple of years earlier at the reunion. Yet as a group of us ambled to our cars, he stopped abruptly in the parking lot, seeming intent on saying something to me. Swaying and shaking, clearly it was work for him to stand there and speak what was on his mind. And to me, the words seemed to come out of the blue. "Don't -- don't stop writing," he stammered.
A few months before Pete's passing, I saw him once more. This time his wife was pushing him in a wheelchair. They were coming into the clinic where I work so he could get some testing done. Getting words out seemed even more arduous and taxing on him than the time before when I'd seen him. But he seemed so determined. So I stood quietly, clueless as to what he wanted to say to me this time. It took major effort and many moments of time before he said the words I'd heard from him before. "Don't stop writing," he told me again.
I don't even know how Pete knew about my writing. I guess he must've heard things through the grapevine about me too. But the thing that was most remarkable to me and the biggest question I had was WHY? Why in moments when he was so clearly struggling to even form a word -- why would he be thinking of me instead of himself?
Since that time I've read and heard even more about Pete. I've read how during his 11 years as a Parkinson's disease patient, he devoted much of his time in groups involved in finding treatments and cures. I learned that he was awarded the Sunflower Victory Award which is given to those who inspire, empower and give hope to others in the Parkinson's disease community. I've also read about what a great dad he was and how his daughters could always count on him to be there for them no matter what. I learned that his wife remembers how "he always thought about everyone else before himself. Even in his most difficult days, he never complained and was kind and loving."
I have no doubt that all I've read and heard is true. Because I know firsthand how his attitude and caring in times of his own struggle inspired me and helped me through my own struggles which were so much less in comparison. Over the last couple of years as I struggled with getting Sisters right along with other issues and a health scare, I kept a post-it note with Pete's name on it right by my computer monitor. Every time I got distracted by the what-ifs of life or didn't think I could write and rewrite another page, seeing Pete's name made me think I could.
But it wasn't just encouragement that Pete gave to me. He taught me a lesson too—one I can't say I've gotten completely right yet. But I promise to keep trying! That is, no matter what is going on in my life, I need to step outside myself. I need to hear. To see. To listen. To reach out. To encourage. To give hope. I need to be there others—for someone else. Just like Pete was there for me.
Pete's family lived around the corner from mine during a lot of our growing up years. I don't remember him venturing up Zig Zag road to our cul-de-sac to play baseball or touch football very often. I do, however, remember traipsing down the street his way and playing in the woods behind his house once in a while.
But, honestly, none of those distant memories have anything to do with the reason I wanted to put Pete's name on my Sisters of Sugarcreek dedication page. Rather, it was more current interactions with Pete that had me doing that.
Long before I saw Pete at our most recent high school reunion a few years ago, I'd heard through the grapevine that he'd been diagnosed with Parkinson's disease. A few years after hearing that news, I learned he wasn't able to work any longer. By the time I saw him at the reunion it brought a tear to my eye to see him having to be helped to stand or to get to his seat. Yet none of that seemed to stop Pete from enjoying the evening and everyone's company.
So it wasn't like Pete and I really communicated over the years, mostly I just heard things about how he was doing every so often. Yet the last two times I did happen to bump into him, he communicated much to me. In just a few words, he gave me a world of encouragement.
The first of those last times, was a couple of years ago when I ran into Pete at a visitation. He was even less unsteady on his feet than he had been a couple of years earlier at the reunion. Yet as a group of us ambled to our cars, he stopped abruptly in the parking lot, seeming intent on saying something to me. Swaying and shaking, clearly it was work for him to stand there and speak what was on his mind. And to me, the words seemed to come out of the blue. "Don't -- don't stop writing," he stammered.
A few months before Pete's passing, I saw him once more. This time his wife was pushing him in a wheelchair. They were coming into the clinic where I work so he could get some testing done. Getting words out seemed even more arduous and taxing on him than the time before when I'd seen him. But he seemed so determined. So I stood quietly, clueless as to what he wanted to say to me this time. It took major effort and many moments of time before he said the words I'd heard from him before. "Don't stop writing," he told me again.
I don't even know how Pete knew about my writing. I guess he must've heard things through the grapevine about me too. But the thing that was most remarkable to me and the biggest question I had was WHY? Why in moments when he was so clearly struggling to even form a word -- why would he be thinking of me instead of himself?
Since that time I've read and heard even more about Pete. I've read how during his 11 years as a Parkinson's disease patient, he devoted much of his time in groups involved in finding treatments and cures. I learned that he was awarded the Sunflower Victory Award which is given to those who inspire, empower and give hope to others in the Parkinson's disease community. I've also read about what a great dad he was and how his daughters could always count on him to be there for them no matter what. I learned that his wife remembers how "he always thought about everyone else before himself. Even in his most difficult days, he never complained and was kind and loving."
I have no doubt that all I've read and heard is true. Because I know firsthand how his attitude and caring in times of his own struggle inspired me and helped me through my own struggles which were so much less in comparison. Over the last couple of years as I struggled with getting Sisters right along with other issues and a health scare, I kept a post-it note with Pete's name on it right by my computer monitor. Every time I got distracted by the what-ifs of life or didn't think I could write and rewrite another page, seeing Pete's name made me think I could.
But it wasn't just encouragement that Pete gave to me. He taught me a lesson too—one I can't say I've gotten completely right yet. But I promise to keep trying! That is, no matter what is going on in my life, I need to step outside myself. I need to hear. To see. To listen. To reach out. To encourage. To give hope. I need to be there others—for someone else. Just like Pete was there for me.
