Lynn Austin's Blog, page 18

On This Foundation

It’s always an exciting day when my newest novel arrives in the mail, hot off the press. It’s especially exciting this year because On This Foundation is the third and final book in my biblical fiction series, “Restoration Chronicles.”

When readers asked me to write more biblical fiction like my “Chronicles of the Kings” series, the stories of Ezra and Nehemiah immediately came to mind. These two leaders showed enormous courage when they left Babylon and returned to Jerusalem to rebuild the Temple and the city walls. On This Foundation tells how Nehemiah, who was the cupbearer for the King of Persia, became the architect and builder of Jerusalem’s defenses. In spite of fierce opposition and death threats from his enemies, he never doubted that the hand of God was with him.

I did extensive research in Jerusalem before I began writing this series because my goal is to stay as close to the scriptural text as possible—not adding to it, but merely filling in some of the historical and cultural background. Here are some of the pictures I took on my research trip:

It was so amazing to view the archaeological discoveries in Jerusalem and actually see and touch Nehemiah’s wall, built more than 2,400 years ago!

And seeing the steepness of the slope made me appreciate how difficult his task must have been.

Chapter three of the biblical book of Nehemiah lists all the men who volunteered to rebuild a section of the wall. Then verse twelve offers this intriguing piece of information: “Shallum son of Hallohesh, ruler of a half-district of Jerusalem, repaired the next section with the help of his daughters.” I wonder what inspired these young women to volunteer for such an undertaking? And I wonder how the men working alongside them responded! You’ll have to read the book to see how I imagined these unique women’s story.

It’s my hope that these novels will bring the Bible to life and not only help readers visualize the stories, but also to see biblical characters as real flesh-and-blood people. It’s my prayer that the novels will draw readers back to the Bible so they’ll read it for themselves—and maybe understand its relevance to their own lives just a little bit better. Enjoy!

To help me celebrate the release of “On This Foundation”, please email your name and e-mail address to LynnAustinBooks@gmail.com by Wednesday September 23rd for a chance to win one of two free copies.

And for my readers in the SW Michigan area, please join me at the Kregel Parable Christian bookstore in Grandville, Michigan on Thursday, October 1 from 7-9 pm where I’ll be speaking and signing my new book. I would love to meet you!

Ninety Years and Counting

You can do some amazing things in your lifetime if you live to be ninety years old—and my mother, Virginia “Jinny” Davis, has. Two days ago we celebrated her ninetieth birthday with a gala party with her family, friends and neighbors. I wouldn’t be an author if it weren’t for my mom. Nor would I likely be a Christian. She has had a powerful influence on my love of books and on my faith in Christ.

Among my first memories are of Mom reading bedtime stories to my two sisters, Bonnie and Peggy, and me. Books always filled our home. Trips to the library—even if it meant walking a mile or more—were routine. Mom’s love of books began when she discovered the public library as a girl during the Great Depression. It’s probably not an exaggeration to say she read every novel in her town’s tiny library. The sympathetic librarian even let her borrow books from her personal collection.

Although a career as a librarian would have been her first choice, Mom never could have afforded a higher education after high school if it’s weren’t for WWII. She won a scholarship to become a registered nurse and became the first woman in her family to have a professional career. But her love of books never dwindled, and when the library in our small New York State town needed a librarian, she applied for the job. It’s also not much of an exaggeration to say that I grew up in that library, doing everything from processing books and working at the checkout desk, to shelving books and reading to the children for story hour. Within a few years, Mom transformed that library from a dark, dismal place that was open only a few hours a week, into the town’s thriving centerpiece with activities for people of all ages. The local elementary school decided to hire her as their librarian, too. I’m so proud of all that she accomplished.

Throughout my growing-up years, I also remember Mom sitting at her typewriter and writing short stories and poems and magazine articles. She wrote a regular column in a local newspaper for a time. I remember celebrating with her when one of her stories was accepted by Highlights for Children. She is still writing stories to this day. Mom showed me that if there’s something you want to do—like write a story—then why not sit down and do it? I attribute my own love of books and my talent for writing to her.

Even more important to Mom than books, though, was her faith in God. She experienced His presence during a church service as a teenager and her faith has continued to grow stronger and deeper ever since. She made sure that my sisters and I regularly attended Sunday school and church, and she modeled a life of prayer, regular Bible study, and loving God and our neighbor. She has experienced hard times and losses over the years—a stillborn baby, a life-threatening illness, my dad’s early death at age 62, my sister Bonnie’s tragic death from cancer nine years ago. But Mom’s faith in a loving God has never wavered. At age ninety she is a prayer warrior, rising early every day to pray for my sister and me and our spouses, her twelve grandchildren and their spouses, and her sixteen great-grandchildren, including three adopted ones, and those yet to be born. I feel her prayers holding me up when I travel and speak and when I sit down at my computer to write.

So Happy Birthday Mom! You continue to be a role model and an inspiration to me, and to your 30 descendants, and to everyone you meet.

The Half-way Point

Yesterday I reached the half-way point in the novel I’m writing. I figured that called for a celebration, so I went out to lunch with my sister-in-law. Now I confess that I’m a “seat of the pants” author who doesn’t lay out her plots ahead of time but who makes up the story as she goes along. So how do I know that I’m half finished? Simple. I know how many typewritten pages my last dozen novels were, so I calculated the average number of pages per book and divided it in half. Mathematically, I’ve now reached the half-way point—230 pages.

Never mind that I still don’t have a title for this book. And never mind that one of my characters has a heart-wrenching choice to make and I have no idea what she’ll decide. Or that another character has just agreed to marry a man she doesn’t love and I can’t talk her out of it. Never mind that I’ve killed off five of my favorite characters in various tragic ways (but for very necessary reasons), leaving me with a saddened and sorrowfully depleted cast to finish the story. I still thought it was appropriate to pause and celebrate the mythical, magical, mathematical half-way point.

An interesting phenomenon happens to me (and to other writers, so I’ve heard) when we reach the middle of a book. Like marathon runners, we sometimes “hit the wall.” We run out of steam. We lose momentum. The race has begun to feel like work and we want to play. When this happens to me, my mind starts spinning plot ideas for the next novel and the one after that instead of plodding forward with my current plot. I get excited about meeting new characters, and I long to ditch the indecisive, needy ones I already have. They’ve become a bunch of malcontents, whining about the plot twists that entangle them, and growing petulant and uncooperative. I’ve threatened to kill off a few more of them if they don’t cooperate but it’s a bluff. I can’t risk running out of people before I run out of pages.

My board of characters

But all these wonderful, new characters! Ah! They’re dancing through my mind like the cast of a Broadway musical, bursting with laughter and fun and intrigue. “Come out and play,” they sing. Who cares about that woman who’s about to marry the wrong man? It serves her right if she ruins her life. And the indecisive one? Tell her to toss a coin and get it over with. There’s a new story to be written, a new game to play.

Some writers say it’s best to go where your creativity leads and lay aside the half-finished book. Take time to develop all these great, new people and ideas while they’re fresh in your mind. Believe me, it’s tempting. But I know what will happen if I do. Sooner or later I’ll reach the half-way point in that book, and my once-energetic characters will start to slow down and sag and whine just like the last bunch. They’ll refuse to come out and play. The Broadway musical will close down. Meanwhile, I’ll have a deadline that has to be met. I need to type “The End” at the end of my half-finished book on January 15—a mere six months from now.

So I’ll enjoy my leisurely lunch—and then I’ll encourage myself to get back to work with these words: “Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain” (1 Corinthians 15:58).

Come on, all you shiftless, lethargic characters! On your feet! On with the show! You’re only half-way to the finish line!

They say the hardest thing in a writer’s life is the chair.

Summertime

It’s summer and the weather is gorgeous. Blue skies and plenty of sunshine, pleasantly warm but not too hot. I want to be here, at the beach, a short walk from my house . . .

But I know I need to be here, in my office, at my desk, working on my next novel . . .

After writing 22 books, I know that if I don’t discipline myself to stay focused and write five days a week, I’ll suffer the consequences when my deadline arrives. And my deadline always arrives a mere two weeks after Christmas. With my far-flung family coming home for the holidays, I don’t want to ruin that treasured time with frenzied writing.

So I’m continuing to write on these beautiful summer days, but I’m cheating…just a little. I’m trying to have my cake and eat it too, as I find time to write yet still enjoy summer. One way I’m doing it is by taking my laptop out on our porch when I need to catch up on my office work. I can even write a scene or two out there. With a cold iced tea and a nice breeze, it’s almost a mini vacation.

I stop working and have lunch outside on our deck instead of at my desk so I can enjoy the birdsong and the sound of the wind in the trees.

Last week, I researched some history about the setting of my current novel by going on a historical walking tour with a museum docent and a nice group of tourists. Add in lunch at an outdoor café with my hubby afterwards, and voilà! Another mini vacation.

When I needed some research materials from our library, hubby and I put on our biking duds and rode our bicycles into town and back—a twelve mile round-trip. The trail follows the lake for part of the way, offering great views. And did I mention there’s an ice cream stand along the way?

I set writing goals for myself every day, but I also know that I’m fresher and more creative when I get a chance to enjoy nature. So, I’ve been making a point to walk on the beach as often as I can, sometimes in the morning when the day is fresh and new, the sand washed clean of footprints. Sometimes in the afternoon when I can pause beneath a beach umbrella for an hour or so and read a book while my husband swims—the water is too cold for me! And sometimes in the evening, when we can watch the sun set over the lake and enjoy the first stars as they appear in the sky. There’s something about the smell of sunscreen and lake water, the soft shushing of the waves against the shore, the feel of sand between my toes, that makes me relax and all my worries about deadlines and plot twists seem to vanish.

So for me, a little taste of summer, then back to work at a job I love. Balance is the key—hard work tempered with the rest God ordained for us. I think this scripture sums it up best: “When God gives any man wealth and possessions, and enables him to enjoy them, to accept his lot and be happy in his work—this is a gift of God” (Ecclesiastes 5:19).

Thank you, Lord, for that gift!

A Quiet Faith

When I think of the many Christian women who’ve inspired me, I always think of my paternal grandmother. I used to spend a week or two with her during summer vacations when I was a girl, and even though we were both eager to start each day together, Grandma always spent time with God first, reading her well-worn Bible and praying. Her faithfulness made a deep impression on me.

Sunday was the Lord’s Day, and I loved going to church with her. She was a lifelong member and a gifted pianist, playing for worship services and singing in the choir. My dad sang in the choir too, and thanks to Grandma, he had a perfect record of Sunday school attendance up to the day he enlisted in the U.S. Navy at age 18 to fight in World War II. He was Grandma’s only child, and I believe her prayers kept him safe during those years. As scripture says, “The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective” (James 5:16).

Grandma was a teetotaler her entire life. She joined the Women’s Christian Temperance Union when she was 16 and took the pledge to never touch a drop of liquor. Following the motto, “Lips that touch liquor shall not touch ours,” young temperance women vowed never to court or marry a man who used alcohol. Grandma married my grandfather when she was 25 and I never saw him drinking alcohol, either.

While researching one of my novels, I came across some fascinating information about the WCTU and it gave me even more admiration for my grandmother. I decided to feature this women’s organization in my novel, Though Waters Roar.

The Woman’s Christian Temperance Union was started in 1874 by a group of women who had firsthand experience of the evils of alcohol, often from family members such as their husbands, fathers or sons. At that time in America there was one saloon for every 300 people. In some towns, bars outnumbered all the schools, libraries, hospitals, theaters and parks—added together. The ladies of the WTCU vowed to do something about it. They held prayer meetings and vigils outside popular saloons (in all sorts of weather) and even went inside sometimes, to shame patrons into going home to their wives and families. When the ladies succeeded in closing one establishment, they moved on to the next, doing their work “For God, for home, and for native land.”

Carrie Nation, the wife of an alcoholic, took her protests a step further. She brought an axe to local train stations and smashed shipments of whiskey before the contents could be distributed. She was arrested numerous times, yet never quit.

On January 29, 1920, Congress passed the 18th Amendment and the Temperance women achieved their goal of total prohibition of the sale of alcohol throughout the United States. Remarkably, these women achieved this at a time when they still didn’t have the right to vote. Grandma was undoubtedly happy when the amendment passed—and likely disappointed when Prohibition was later rescinded in 1933.

If I could go back in time and relive any memory with my grandmother, I would choose the hours we spent sitting side-by-side on her piano bench, singing our way through her well-used hymnbook. How I loved to watch her soft, graceful hands caress the piano keys and hear her rich alto voice, a little shaky with age, as she harmonized with my girlish soprano. She taught me to love those old hymns, and I still enjoy them today, especially Grandma’s favorite, “What a Friend We Have in Jesus.” Thanks to her, Jesus is my friend, too.

A Woman’s Place

I attended a baby shower last week for a young woman who is expecting her first baby. As we munched on muffins and spinach quiche, the discussion meandered to a controversial subject—working mothers versus stay-at-home moms. The new mother-to-be, who was happily ripping open presents, won’t have to choose between the two. She has a job that she loves in her family’s business that will allow her to bring her little one to work with her. But the varying opinions of the other guests—ages 10 to 85—fascinated me. I was reminded of the research I did a few years ago for my novel, “A Woman’s Place.”

If I had asked the women at the shower to complete this once popular saying: “A woman’s place is . . .” I imagine only those who were baby-boomers or older would have known the answer: “A woman’s place is in the home.” Up until World War II, that’s where the majority of women in America were. But when war broke out and every able-bodied man in the nation marched off to do his duty, the call went out for women to take their places in the workforce. The women were nicknamed “Rosie the Riveters” and millions of them went to work in factories and shipyards and hangars for the duration of the war, building tanks and airplanes and aircraft carriers. Before that time, women were known as “the weaker sex” and no one believed they were capable of doing “men’s” work. Rosie proved them wrong and forever changed society’s perception of working women.

My novel tells the stories of four very different women who meet and become friends when they go to work in a shipyard in 1942. This is one of the pictures that inspired me:

I asked my publisher to try to convey this wonderful sense of camaraderie and “we can do it” attitude on the book’s cover. I think they did a great job. (Don’t you love the shoes?)

This is another picture that inspired me:

She could be “Leave it to Beaver’s” mom, an ordinary housewife who never imagined she could weld an airplane wing or operate a rivet gun or build a jet engine. But she did. And her brave efforts helped win the war. When it finally ended, Rosie and her fellow workers went back to their kitchens, letting the returning soldiers have “their” jobs back. Once again, the popular sentiment was “a woman’s place is in the home.” Rosie became Mom to an explosion of baby-boom children.

I graduated from high school in the late 1960s and wasn’t sure what I wanted to be. But I knew I wanted to go to college. “The best jobs for women are as nurses or teachers,” my high school guidance counselor advised. “You’ll only end up getting married and having children anyway.” Ouch! By the time my generation finished college, that attitude was beginning to change. “A women’s place is . . .” wherever she wants it to be.

I toured three modern-day shipyards while doing my research and took this photo in one that builds yachts. Fully half of the employees were women, working side-by-side with men. I wondered if they knew how Rosie had paved the way for them.

Like the expectant mom at the baby shower, my career as a writer means I didn’t have to choose between my family and my work. For most women, the choice isn’t that simple. But whatever path a young woman takes in the Twentieth Century, she can thank Rosie and the generation of women who did their part during World War II for opening the door wide to the range of opportunities she now enjoys.

Pursuing a Story

I’ve found inspiration for my books in some pretty strange places. Take A Proper Pursuit, for instance. That idea started when my book club read the popular book, The Devil and the White City by Erik Larson. I have to admit that I skipped the “devil” parts (much too gruesome!) but the story of the White City—the 1893 World Columbian Exposition held in Chicago—fascinated me. I lived in a Chicago suburb at the time so I began reading every book I could find about the White City. I studied photographs of the dazzling buildings and maps of the landscaped grounds until I started dreaming about them.

Next I took a trip to downtown Chicago to see the only building that remains from the exposition. It’s now the Museum of Science and Industry. Most of the White City’s structures were flimsily built and were never intended to last. But the present museum was the exception because it was the Fine Arts building at the time and housed great works of art on display from around the world.

On my trips downtown I also researched some of the other exciting things going on in the city at that time. For instance, the world-famous evangelist Dwight L. Moody was very active in preaching the gospel. The ahead-of-her-time social reformer Jane Addams founded Hull House to help ease the plight of immigrants streaming to Chicago. And the Woman Suffrage Movement was working hard to win equal rights for women. For the first time ever, women were given the opportunity to create and host a pavilion at the Columbian Exposition to showcase their achievements.

Now I needed some characters, and I confess that the inspiration for my main character, Violet, came from a source very close to home—my daughter and her friends. These dynamic young women were just starting college at the time and the field of possible careers was wide open to them. They could be anything they wanted to be. But what if that wasn’t true? What if they lived in Chicago in 1893 and were bound by all the strict rules and mores of the Victorian era? Just imagining how they might have rebelled made me laugh! And so Violet was born.

Then there was this photograph, which was the inspiration for Violet’s Grandmother and Great Aunts: Mathilda (Matt), Agnes, Florence and Bertha (Birdie). You’ll have to read the book to guess which one is which. I found the picture in a box of old photographs that my sister-in-law gave me. They belonged to a deceased relative, and no one remembered who any of them were! I decided to bring them back to life in A Proper Pursuit. Grandma Florence became a social reformer with Jane Addams and D.L. Moody. Aunt Matt is a suffragette. Aunt Agnes is part of Chicago’s high society, and Aunt Birdie, who never quite recovered from her husband’s death in the Civil War 30 years earlier, spreads love wherever she goes.

All of these events and people became ingredients for my novel. Add in a few dashing (and not-so-dashing) love interests for Violet, and a mystery for her to solve . . . and A Proper Pursuit was one of the most fun novels I’ve written.

The Genesis of a Book

One of the questions authors are frequently asked is, where do our ideas come from. My answer? Everywhere! It seems different for me for each book. Since many of my readers have told me that Candle in the Darkness is their favorite book, here’s the story of how that novel came about.

It started when my musician husband, Ken, performed at a Civil War re-enactment with the “Yankee Brass Band.” I had never been to a re-enactment before, but as I wandered around the camp grounds and watched the mock battles, my creative juices began to flow. I interviewed dozens of participants and asked hundreds of questions. These re-enactors really know their history and are a treasure trove of information. The women gave me quite an education about the layers and layers of mysterious garments hiding beneath their voluminous skirts—and how they manage the privvy.

Filled with all this information and inspiration, I began researching the Civil War, planning a three-book series from three different viewpoints. The woman in the first book would be from the South, the second from the North, and the third would be a slave. Thanks to my local librarian, I found a diary entitled Richmond. During the War by Sallie Brock Putnam. This young woman lived in the Confederate capitol of Richmond,Virginia throughout the war, cheering enthusiastically for her beloved Confederate soldiers. She offers a day-by-day account of the fear she felt as the Union army advanced and how the sounds of cannon fire could be heard in the distance. Exciting stuff! She provided me with valuable information about which sites to explore on my research trip to Richmond.

Another great resource was All the Daring of a Soldier by Elizabeth D. Leonard. She describes some of the amazing things that women did for both the North and the South during the war, including becoming spies. The woman in this picture ended up in prison with her little daughter for spying.

But the inspiration for my two main characters, Caroline and her faithful slave Eli, came from this photograph that I found during my research. The little girl is impeccably clothed in a white dress trimmed with lace; the slave’s clothing is worn and threadbare. Yet the love and trust between the two is obvious in the way they are holding onto each other. I knew I had to tell their story.

I keep all of these photographs on a bulletin board near my desk—the pictures copied from books and the ones I take myself on my research trips. And from all of these ingredients, and the spark of an idea that began at a Civil War reenactment, Candle in the Darkness was born.

Tulip Time

If you live in Michigan—as I do—you just can’t miss “Tulip Time” in Holland. Tulips and klompen (wooden shoes) are everywhere, as you can see from this sign posted in the public library.

This year I watched the parades and Dutch dancers for the very first time—and what fun! The young people seem to really enjoy dressing up in traditional Dutch costumes and putting on a show. The Holland High School marching band performs a dance routine to “Tiptoe Through the Tulips” (what else!) and march the entire parade route in klompen. There is also delicious Dutch food to sample as well as all the usual parade treats like corn dogs and elephant ears.

The flower gardens all around town are magnificent with tulips in nearly every color of the rainbow. The city designates certain public streets as “tulip lanes” for those who want to drive around and see even more flowers. And of course the gardens at Holland’s Windmill Island are spectacular. DeZwaan is a genuine Dutch windmill built in 1761 and brought over to Holland, Michigan 50 years ago to become the city’s centerpiece.

I had a lot of fun but I was also hard at work. I’m currently researching my next novel, which just happens to feature a family of Dutch immigrants who come to Michigan in 1847 and settle the town of Holland. Who says researching historical novels isn’t fun?

“An Evening with Lynn Austin” – May 14 in Holland, MI

Christ Memorial Church is hosting “An Evening with Lynn Austin” on Thursday, May 14.  The program will start at 7:00 PM in the Gathering Area (Door D).  A “Meet-and-Greet”  will begin at 6:30 to 7:00 PM.  I will be selling and signing books after the program with the evening ending at 9:00 PM.

They’ve asked me to speak about my love of the research process, where the ideas for my books come from, how I develop characters, and where my love of writing began.

There is no cost for this event, and no need to RSVP.  Christ Memorial Church is located at 595 Graafschap Road in Holland, MI