Jennie Goutet's Blog: A Lady in France, page 15

Online Shops: Etsy vs Shopify

Hi everyone, I’m putting aside the exciting book launch for today because I wanted to present this small collection of beautiful online shops featuring artists who use different materials, and whose platforms are on both Etsy and Shopify. It’s a little long – and I had fully intended to edit out chunks of text – but I found I couldn’t remove parts of people’s stories because I found them interesting.

I’m receiving compensation to write about Shopify, and since I don’t have an online shop, the only way I could make it authentic and fun for you, my readers, is to let the people speak who do! And also feature their gorgeous work and give some back story as to how they got started.

There’s not a real bias to this post because I truly don’t have an opinion on which platform is better. But I have Janice and Tracey giving some additional information about Etsy. And Angela will share her experience with Shopify.

But, before we talk shop (ya see that pun there?), let me introduce some gorgeous creations!

Paper Goods & Graphics

Name: Julia Groves

Shop: The Quiet Grove Designs

Start Date: May 2015

Platform: Etsy

Tell me a little about how you found the name for your shop, and some of the story behind it:

My family lifestyle blog and my Etsy Shop are both The Quiet Grove. It’s sort of a play on my name and a statement about who I am. I am the Quiet Grove. My mission for my shop is to help others celebrate life’s precious moments, big and small.

I have always been drawn to the field of graphic design work. Thankfully, when my husband (who happens to be a talented graphic designer and illustrator) found this out,  he encouraged me to just go for it. He set me up with Lynda.com and Youtube tutorials to learn Illustrator and Photoshop. And whenever I needed additional help he has always been there for me.

When I became proficient in graphic design my husband encouraged me to open my own Etsy Shop to sell my printables. I never knew I would find such enjoyment  creating the products in my store (and custom products for clients). While I love graphic design, and I am becoming quite proficient, I am still no illustrator. Thankfully, whenever I need some custom illustrations for my printables my husband is always willing to take the time to draw them up for me. It is fun working as a team.

Check out Julia’s work and writing here:

Link to shop: Etsy Shop

Link to blog: The Quiet Grove (She also offers a bunch of free printables for my readers at my blog).

Letters and Paintings

Name: Janice MacLeod

Shop: Paris Letters & Art (or JaniceArtShip)

Start Date: 2010

Platform: Etsy

Tell me a little about how you found the name for your shop, and some of the story behind it:

My Etsy name is JaniceArtShip. It really came about because I like my name, art and ships. Looking back, I probably would have been better off choosing something more obvious like Janice MacLeod but now that’s taken, so JaniceArtShip remains.

I had saved up enough money to buy me two years away from my job in advertising. While on the road, I started mailing out letters to friends. I was surrounded by art and inspired by all the art I was seeing in the museums of Europe. When in the United Kingdom, I came across an artist named Percy Kelly who created amazing painted letters to send to his pen pal back in the 1980s. I was smitten. So I bought a watercolour set and dusted off a rusty hobby. I began painting watercolours in my travels, and started writing letters on the watercolours. I’d then mail the art out to a friend.

When I met the lovely Christophe in Paris, I decided to stay and continue creating these painted letters. At some point I had to take another look at my bank account and beef it up. I decided to create a subscription service whereby I copy the letters, personalize each copy and mail it out to those who like fun mail.

People love receiving fun mail. I especially like when someone subscribes a family member or friend to the service. There are a lot of people that get my letters in retirement homes and have an update to share with their friends. They pass the letter around at meals so they can all do a little armchair traveling.

The Paris Letters turned into a book, which turned into a New York Times best seller. I still marvel at how these Paris Letters have taken on a life of their own.

My Etsy shop had a false start back in 2010. I had tried to sell a few of my paintings to no avail. I thought just by listing, I would be able to sell, but I learned that Etsy is first and foremost a high-tech cash register. It would do the transaction for me but I had to do a lot of marketing on my own and build my audience. Eventually, I did this through blogging about my travels.

Shop Link: Paris Letters & Art
Blog Link: Janice MacLeod


Sewing

 

Name: Renee Stawicki

Shop: Songbird Sewing

Start date: May 2015

Platform: Shopify and we love it! Also in brick & mortar stores.

Tell me a little about how you found the name for your shop, and some of the story behind it:

Oh this is an interesting story…. we wanted to use my maiden name Renee Russell because we thought it sounded smoother than Renee Stawicki, toyed around with many options, seriously gave it a lot of thought, discussed with friends and just couldn’t come up with the right name. One morning my husband and I were talking when we woke up because we needed a name ASAP, the website was finished (my husband built the website himself) and we heard a bird right out the window. How about Songbird he says jokingly, YES! Songbird Sewing! My friend drew the logo on a paper scrap, sent it via a cell phone photo and my husband turned it into a jpeg, we use that original drawing as our logo.

I like to make things, I see my work as art. I don’t like to make the same thing twice, I rarely use patterns or measurements. I LOVE textiles and color. This is a wonderful artistic outlet for me that allows me the freedom to incorporate the business with our family dynamic/homeschooling, traveling with the kids, showing them the in and outs of a business, giving them an opportunity to see their mother use her “gifts” and passion for creativity. We currently sell the bags in our own Shopify store online and in 4 other stores.

Link to Shop: Songbird Sewing Company

Jewelry

 

Name: Tracey Lopez

Shop Name: Saffron Soul Studio, LLC

Start Date: April 2016

Platform: Etsy & Craft Shows

Tell me a little about how you found the name for your shop, and some of the story behind it:

I opened my account with Etsy in November 2015 but launched the store in April 2016. I’ve been playing with beads since I was a child. I became more serious about selling my jewelry and art as a hobby in my mid 30’s. In November 2015 I took the leap and formed the LLC. to make my studio a formal business.

My-oh-my that was a 2 year process. I have a journal of brainstorming with pages and pages of words, expressions, concepts, definitions you name it. I came to the end of my rope, completely exhausting every word possibility relating to my business concept that I could think of. I sat at my dining table frustrated and disappointed because all of the names I could think of were already taken and over saturated. Then the thought came, you need to think out of the box. Food popped into my head next. Food? Okaaaay. Then like a gentle whisper, I heard saffron. I wrestled with that at first.

Saffron? Why saffron? I reflected on it… it’s a spice, expensive, exotic, flavorful, elegant, beautiful, golden yellow and orange. Wow. Of course saffron! It made sense because those are the things that my art work embodies to me. Burnt orange and red are my favorite colors. Originally I wanted to use the word SOL which is sun in Spanish but I changed it to SOUL because it has a deeper meaning that reflects both my faith in God and the undercurrent of inspiration I want my business to have.

Saffron Soul Studio’s mission is to provide products to our customers that enhance personal style and increase awareness of multicultural design. The long term goal is to create a lifestyle company that connects art, culture and inspiration on an individual basis using products and art workshops.

Shop Link: Etsy

Blog Link: Saffron Soul Studio and HERE for more personal writing

 

Sculpture, etc.

Name: Mary Catherine Jackowski

Shop Name:  MOHLOM, which is an acronym for More of Him, less of me

Start Date: 2008

Platform: Etsy

Tell me a little about how you found the name for your shop, and some of the story behind it:

My husband and I were trying to come up with a name for our business and I finally said, “I think I am going to call it MOHLOM.” He wondered why and I told him it was an acronym for “More of HIM, less of me”.  I would always sign my letters like this and he thought it was a great idea.

MOHLOM is not just a shop, but my hearts cry. The items that I make are made from recycled glass. My aunt is a glass blower and she gives me the scrap off her blow pipe, which I take and clean up. It comes broken and dirty, much like us. But I clean it up, break it, fuse it together in a kiln and it comes out bright, shiny and beautiful. Much like God does with us.

I would often see jewelry that I loved but could not afford to buy, that’s why I have priced my items so that everyone can enjoy them. Each item comes with a gift tag that reads: MOHLOM More of HIM, Less of me, Handcrafted from 100% recycled glass, from broken to beautiful.

Every time my aunt blows a piece there is residual glass left on the blow pipe. She thermal shocks it off and it is broken and dirty. She never wanted to send it to a landfill and so she kept it, not knowing what she would do with it.

One day she told me I should make stuff out of it, and I told her I didn’t know how. She said – you have a kiln….which I did, someone gave me a used kiln years ago free. But I had never plugged it in. So I went to the library and checked out a book on Kiln Formed Glass. I read it and read it over and over again.

Later, my aunt asked me if I had made anything, and I told her I had read a lot on it but was afraid to turn on my kiln. She looked at me and said, “Mary, it’s like a great big toaster…just plug it in. Log your temps and times and you will figure it out.”

So I did! I’m constantly coming up with new ideas and designs, and I am having so much fun!  I am designing my ear wires for my earrings and they are so unique and different, I am having a lot of fun with them!  My nightlights have evolved over the years and now I say they are nightlights with attitude!

I have a heart for the unborn and so 10% of all my sales go to my local area Right to Life. And 50% of the profits of my cards, which are printed from my original drawings goes to them as well.  I have done speaking at Christian woman conferences, Right to Life Events, Churches and StoneCroft Ministries on the Sanctity of Life.  I bring my glass and after I speak then we have our glass for sale!  I love sharing about what God has done in my life.

Link to Shop: Etsy

Link to Blog: MOHLOM

 

INFORMATION ABOUT ETSY

From Janice:

Having a shop is free and there is no monthly membership. Listing an item is $0.20. When an item sells, Etsy collects 3.5% of the selling price.

For me, the fees are worth it. I don’t have to deal with credit card payments or the online security for the buyer. I just list, people buy and I ship. It’s great. Etsy also has a robust newsletter and mailing list, and they feature shops and items. I was lucky to be written about in their Quit Your Day Job blog here :

From Tracey: I am new to the Etsy platform as a seller but not as a consumer. I have found Etsy to be a reliable source for unique crafts. The sellers I have worked with have always been helpful and have gone the extra mile to make the experience a pleasant one. As a marketplace, their rates are competitive for posting products and the sales commission is fair. There is a wide abundance of tutorials and help available to assist with store success. Their website infrastructure is also easy to use for the most part. I look forward to a successful relationship.

 

INFORMATION ABOUT SHOPIFY

The first thing I want to mention is Shopify’s business encyclopedia. Here’s what they say on their website, and I think this will be useful for anyone new to online shops, but who wants to understand the correct terms:

Use the topic list below to navigate Shopify’s business encyclopedia. From retail and enterprise to branding and entrepreneurship, you’ll find everything you need to know about building a successful business. If you can’t find the topic you’re looking for, use the search bar above for a list of relevant articles.

For the rest of the information concerning Shopify, I want to give a huge thank you to Angela Reinbacher for volunteering this information about Shopify, which she uses for her company and not for a personal shop.

Pricing: See packages here

Typical credit card transaction fee, plus $0.30 for each sale
Get billed every month
Additional billing is if you choose to print your shipping labels right from Shopify, then that bill of what shipping costs will be sent


Nice feature is that you get paid 7 days a week, rather than only weekly payouts like other platforms. In the dashboard of Shopify, it shows what you get paid today, tomorrow, and upcoming payout balance. When you get paid, you always get an email updating the payout as well with details of how many orders this payout includes, and if there were refunds or adjustments within this.
A wonderful feature is discount codes. Having discount codes really springs more sales for your business because people feel they are getting a deal. With discount codes you can get very specific with how they are designed: choose the name, choose the length of time the code is available, choose the number of people who can use the code, what product you want discounted (or any product), and even have specific codes for specific customers.
Customers can choose to create an account when they check out in Shopify. This is a nice feature because then the customers can select “allow marketing” or “not allow marketing.” Then you can go through and see what customers allow marketing and send emails to the customer with updated info about new products and sales.

Currently I work for Vaped3D and we use Shopify as a platform. We chose the Basic-Version at first, but then made the switch to the Pro-Version. The upgrade to the Pro-Version has been great for a couple of reasons. Having this version allows a better rate for shipping label discounts. This is very important to our business because we are online-only so we ship every product we sell. Even having the feature of being able to print shipping labels from home through Shopify is a convenient feature because it is more professional than writing the labels out by hand and then going to the Post and having the Post create a tracking number.

When using the Pro-Version, it is also an advantage to have the ‘abandon cart recovery.’ Some customers don’t end up buying the product, but put it in their online cart because they thought about buying it. When this happens, the customer gets an email saying “Still shopping? You have items in your cart,” along with what products were in their cart and how much they cost. Having this feature has allowed us to secure sales because a number of customers see this email, and then reply to the email with their questions that originally prevented them from completing the order. Therefore, by the customers feeling that the company is ready to assist them in their shopping experience, they are more likely to ask their questions and then complete their order.

Conclusion

And that’s it. If there was more about Shopify than Etsy in the comparison of the two, it’s not by design, but rather based on the information I received. I hope you will have enough to decide for yourself, based on what people said, which platform is best for you.

Happy creating, artist friends!

The post Online Shops: Etsy vs Shopify appeared first on A Lady In France.

New Book Release & Giveaway! For Romance Lovers

Well, it’s done. Enfin! The Viscount of Maisons-Laffitte is now available for purchase on Amazon in both print and kindle.

The picture for the cover was taken by yours truly, and it is indeed from the Château de Maisons-Laffitte. The gentleman was photoshopped in and his photo credit appears on the book jacket next to mine.

Back Story:

I was tutoring in the school that Fenley is modelled after – although, as I said in the author’s note at the end of the book – everything about it is fiction except for its existence. I used to drive over the bridge to the school and see the château in front of me and imagine all its stories. From there a germ of an idea sprung forth.

One little interesting tidbit. I kept spelling Maisons-Laffitte wrong, and quite publicly too! It didn’t matter that I saw the sign for it every time I drove into town. First, I forgot the s on Maisons. So it was Maison Laffitte. Then I forgot the dash! I just never noticed it, and thank goodness a French friend pointed the error out as soon as he saw the cover. I would never live down the shame.

And now it’s done. A baby that went up first here in rough draft form, chapter by chapter. And then went through tons of revisions, with tons of input from skilled wordsmiths. It takes a village to raise an author. Or something like that.

Back-cover:

Is there such a thing as Prince Charming?

Chastity didn’t take a teaching job in France to find hers, but a woman can dream, n’est ce pas? If the father of one of her students—the Viscount Charles Jean Anne Monorie de Brase—is the best local example of princes, Charming or Otherwise, Chastity is ready to put aside any thought of falling in love again.

As much as she would prefer him to keep his distance, it seems there is no avoiding each other. With the ongoing pressure of a repentant ex-boyfriend, a nefarious drug dealer, and an art heist that spans the decades, Chastity and the viscount are thrown together by circumstances she would soon rather forget.

As the intimacy between Charles and Chastity deepens, they must decide if their love is enough to bridge the gap between their disparate worlds, and if happily ever after can exist outside of fairy tales.

(an image to pin)

Nuts and Bolts:

Before we get to the giveaway, if you are impatient to get your copy right now – (you are, aren’t you?) – you can follow this link below to get to both the Kindle and print version.

Giveaway:

And now for the cream. I am giving away one signed print version of the book, and five electronic versions. I’ve used Rafflecopter to run the giveaway, and I think it’s pretty easy to use. (I usually just pull a name out of a hat). The first one I pick will be for the signed copy. The next five names will be for an electronic copy – PDF, ePub or Mobi.

I’ve put a few options to boost your chances of winning that I hope will not be too onerous. Besides leaving a comment (do let me know if you are interested only in the signed version or only in the electronic versions) you can tweet about the giveaway, post it on your Facebook page, and add it to Goodreads as a “to read” book. It gives me a much-needed publicity boost for my book without – I hope – being too much trouble for you.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Good luck with winning a copy! And please remember to leave a review on Amazon (and also Goodreads or LibraryThing if you’re there). Even one line makes a huge difference because Amazon seems to bump up the books that have more reviews.

Thank you. I’ve been blogging for nearly seven years. I wonder how many of you have been around for much of it. Thank you for your support.

The post New Book Release & Giveaway! For Romance Lovers appeared first on A Lady In France.

Cover Reveal (and an excerpt)

In case you feel like you’re seeing double with this post, you probably are. I’ve been having a huge number of problems with both websites due to the WordPress update on a Genesis platform. (If that means nothing to you, carry on).

Apart from all these little posts that keep disappearing, I’ve not blogged much. The edits have taken up much of my time and I have little energy left. I do have a quail and lemon tagliatelle recipe for you, which I will do soon. In the meantime, please allow me to present the cover of my romance, which will be available for sale on Amazon no later than May 1. (I’ll let you know).

Introducing …

And here’s an excerpt from Chapter 10

Chastity watched as the viscount stood and put his black wool coat back on. It was warm enough in the food stall to take it off, but the cold air crept into the rest of the marché and made the outerwear indispensable. She noticed how nice his red scarf looked against his matte complexion, and how well it matched his actress’s coat. He put his arm around her as they walked out, tilting his ear to catch what she was saying while they turned the corner. Just perfect, she sighed.

“Are you finished Thomas?” She forced herself to be cheerful.

“Yup, Mom. You’re the one who’s not.” He pointed at her forgotten waffle on the plate and grinned.

“Ah, silly me.” She laughed. “I must have had too big of a lunch.” She scooted her plate towards him. “Want it?”

“No thanks, Mom. I’m full.” Thomas was silent, spinning the paper plate in front of him. Chastity’s mind was filled with the image of the viscount’s unsmiling face as he walked towards her.

“Mom?” Thomas’s voice was tinged with a worry she didn’t pick up on.

“Hm?” she murmured absently.

“You said I could talk to you about anything, right?”

“Sure thing, sweetie.” She was not looking at him, but at the crowd walking by. “Oh look!” She pointed. “There’s Maude. Shall we go catch her?” With the eagerness only a child could possess, Thomas forgot the subject and raced after her friend, grabbing the back of her coat.

“Tommee!” she squealed, picking him up and twirling him around. “You know, in a year or two I won’t be able to do that.”

“I know.” Thomas grinned as his mom walked up.

“Hey,” Chastity greeted Maude with the bises on each cheek. “Have you seen anything you liked?”

“Well yeah,” Maude said. “I’m interested in the knitted hats and scarves because I’m willing to bet I could make something like that and it would sell.”

“Wait. You knit?” Chastity raised an eyebrow.

“Every scarf and sweater Michel owns.”

“I can’t believe you find the time.” She thought of her own life and how busy it was.

“We don’t have kids, for one thing,” Maude reflected comfortably. “I find it relaxing. It’s orderly, just like Math. Every stitch has its place.”

“Maybe you could teach knitting to your Math students,” Chastity teased. “The boys would love that. Anyway, show me. I want to see what kinds of things you can make. Thomas let’s go see if we can find some other stands with toys in them too, okay?”

He ran ahead by way of answer, even though he didn’t know where he was supposed to go. Chastity admired his energy and laughed. “Don’t go too far Thomas.” He stopped suddenly and darted over to a stall that had stickers and pens, and small desk toys that were propped up on little wires.

“Oh perfect,” said Maude. “He’s stopped just in the right place. There’s the knitted-wear stand.”

Chastity walked over and fingered a tomato-red scarf. “Oh, this one is nice.” She sighed. “Too bad I can never wear it.”

“But this one you totally could.” Maude pulled out a forest green hat with pale green trim. She whispered, “Don’t buy it though. I’ll make you one just like it.”

Manon pulled on the viscount’s arm and headed towards a stand with soaps from Provence. He extricated himself, saying, “I see the mayor over there. I’ll be right back.” Her eyes grew wide, probably at the thought of being left alone, but she schooled her features to hide it.

“Okay chéri.”

“Bertrand,” he said, extending his hand to an older man in an expensive suit that pulled at the waist.

“Ah, Charles.” The mayor returned the handshake. “Are you here on your own?”

“No. Manon Duprey came with me. She’s over there.” The gleam in the mayor’s eye meant he would be expecting an introduction. “I’ll introduce you to her,” the viscount promised with a wry smile.

“In good time, Charles. You know I have to ask you again this year if you’ll consider opening your home for a spring ball.” The viscount started to shake his head, but the mayor went on. “Now think about it, Charles, before you say no. Your father agreed to it in the past, and it did such good for the community.”

“My father agreed to it until the artwork went missing. I just can’t take that risk again.”

“I understand that. I do. But some of the townspeople are pressuring me on this one. The château is no longer a patrimony that belongs to the town, and the people want something in return. If you agreed to this, we would have every available officer on call to keep an eye on things. Think about it, okay Charles? Everyone is hoping for this.”

“I’ll … think about it,” was the most the viscount could manage, although he was sure he would not change his mind.

“Now, let’s see about that introduction.” The mayor clapped him on the back and steered him towards the soap stand where Manon was accepting a brown paper bag with her fragrant collection inside.

“I got almond, green tea, and lemon—” She stopped when she noticed the mayor walking next to the viscount.

“Mademoiselle Duprey.” He took both her hands in his own and kissed them, before pulling her in and kissing her on both cheeks.

“Let me introduce you to Bertrand Le Neveu, the mayor of Maisons-Laffitte,” the viscount said drily. The mayor already had his arm around Manon’s waist and was walking forward with her, pointing out a stand that boasted chocolates made in France. He whispered something in her ear.

“You rogue,” she said, laughing and blushing. She was used to this kind of attention—an older gentleman of position and wealth favoring her with his notice. These gentlemen could be useful to her career, and it wasn’t hard to please them.

“Charles, I’m just going to buy Mlle Duprey some chocolate. You can catch up with us further on.” The mayor dismissed him with a wink.

The viscount nodded, unthreatened. He wasn’t unhappy to be alone and continued down the aisle of the marché. His main goal was to make an appearance and let everyone know he was supporting the town. He didn’t need anything in particular among the goods that were displayed. To kill time, he paused at one of the stands on the corner of the aisle to examine the collection of fountain pens.

“Mommy, it’s starting to snow.” Thomas ran forward again. Sure enough, fat snowflakes were visible against the overhead lights, although they were hidden in the night beyond that.

Chastity and Maude began to walk behind him. “We’ll just follow this row down to the exit and then be on our way. I don’t want to get Thomas home too late.”

“Oh. Guess what,” Maude said. “I saw the actress here—Manon Duprey. She must be here with the viscount.”

Thomas had stopped at the corner stand, which contained horse paraphernalia, so they stood in the aisle just next to him.

“I know,” said Chastity. “I saw them eating at the next table. He didn’t look happy to be here.” Her dimples showed as she lowered her voice. “Mixing with the commoners.”

“His father had more of a reputation for interacting with the people of the town than the current viscount does. Apparently his dad even put on an elegant ball in the château and opened it for the community to come and dance. The mayor has been begging for the current owner to do the same, but so far he’s refused.”

“Thomas wait.” Chastity said, as her son darted forward again.

The two women followed him, and as they crossed the intersection of stalls, she said in a voice louder than intended, “Ha! This viscount.”

A gentleman in a black wool coat at a nearby stall turned his head slightly at her words. Though she lowered her voice, he caught the rest before the women were out of sight. “No surprise that he refuses to host a ball. Why should he lift a finger to do something nice for the town when he clearly has nothing personal to gain from it?”

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Book Cover Reveal! (And an excerpt)

I know I’ve been MIA. Truthfully, I’m exhausted from book editing and haven’t been able to blog at all. I even have a quail recipe with lemon tagliatelle to share with you, but haven’t had time to do it. We’re nearing the finish line with this one, and the book will be available no later than May 1. (I’ll post about it to let you know). In the meantime, I thought you’d like to see the cover … and perhaps an excerpt, even though many of you have read large parts of the rough draft when I put the chapters up on my blog.

Introducing ….

Excerpt from Chapter 24

“Ladies and gentlemen.” The dance instructor clapped loudly. “Find your partners and get into position.” He was destined to be interrupted once more as the bell chimed. This time, the viscount did not rush down the stairs, and Paltier moved quickly from Thomas’s side to the entrance. The teenagers chattered and laughed nervously at standing so close to their partners. When Paltier returned to the top of the stairs, he was followed by the young intern from the hospital. Chastity glanced at the viscount, her expression a question, but he didn’t comment.

Noting the new arrival, the instructor called out, “What young lady does not yet have a partner?”

A young lady with a thick mane of black hair stepped away from her classmate and walked over to Samuel. “This lady doesn’t.”

“Fatima!” was heard, amidst laughter. The teenager who had been dismissed shrugged.

“You can share Becky.” She tossed her hair off her shoulder and smiled at Samuel. He looked amused, and a little trapped.

“Fatima, may I remind you that you are seventeen, and he is an adult.” Margaret James’s voice rang out from the middle of the dance floor.

“Seventeen is almost an adult,” she retorted as her classmates laughed. She smiled up at him seductively.

“I am sorry to tell you, Fatimah, but I’m nearly certain he is already taken,” the viscount teased on the other side of her. This caught Louis’s attention; he was astonished to hear his father joke with one of his classmates. He saw him standing close to Miss Whitmore, wearing a relaxed smile, and a slow comprehension stole over him.

The dance teacher resumed his lesson. “Gentlemen, you’ll want to place your hand between the shoulder blades of your partner. Keep your elbow level with your shoulder.” He demonstrated with his hands in the air. “Ladies, rest your hand on your partner’s shoulder. This will help you sense where he’s leading. Put your other hand lightly in your partner’s outstretched hand. Like so. Very good,” he added, as he observed the couples forming obediently.

The viscount had his hand on Chastity’s back, and her free hand was clasped in his outstretched one. They stood still while the instructor gave instructions for the steps, conscious of how close each one was to the other. The viscount contemplated Chastity, but she refused to meet his gaze.

“Chastity, I’ve been meaning to ask if you will come to the ball with me.”

At this, she did look up, startled. She trembled in his hands. “But you are with… ” She stopped speaking, and he knew she must have seen the media.

“I’m not with Manon. Trust me, it was over before this incident happened with Bruce Richards. I should have ended it sooner.”

“Oh.” She tried to buy herself some time. “I’m missing the instructions.” The dance teacher droned on, and the partners around them began to move.

“Just follow my lead,” the viscount said. “You can’t go wrong.” He allowed her time to recover her composure while he led her gently in the most basic steps of the waltz. He studied her tense face, and leaned down to murmur, “Don’t worry. I’m wearing thick shoes.”

She chuckled, and he felt her relax. He pressed again. “Will you come?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Thomas…”

“I’ve thought of that,” he said quietly. “If there was any chance he would enjoy it, I’d find a way for him come and hire someone to help watch him. The truth is, the crowds and the noise won’t be good for him. Do you think you can find someone you trust to watch him?”

“Mmm,” she stalled. She was awkward and stiff in his arms, and he fought the urge to pull her closer to see if he could get her to relax.

“There’s his father,” he offered, reluctantly, wondering if that was what was holding her back.

“Yes, but I haven’t decided how much a part of Thomas’s life he’s allowed to have, and I’m uncomfortable leaving him alone with him.” The viscount watched her attentively, spinning her in keeping with the dance teacher’s instructions.

“Oh, why not.” Chastity rewarded him with a smile then laughed suddenly. “All right, I’ll come. I’d love to be your date for the ball.”

“That’s a relief.” The viscount kept a straight face, but the muscles in his mouth quivered. “Otherwise I’d have been obliged to ask Ms. James.”

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Winners Take Two (Broken Blog)

My e-mail from yesterday’s post went through, but the post itself is gone. I upgraded WordPress to the new version and somehow broke my blog. So my hosting company had to restore a back-up, which means my post no longer exists. So here is the post almost exactly from yesterday, except I think the That’s Paris anthology might no longer be .99.

Here ’tis.

This is a super short post to tell you who won the two books from my giveaway last week. I’m up to my elbows in writing and editing, and later today will be up to my elbows in physical therapy for carpal tunnel. I know I don’t have a good setup for writing, but I can’t do much about it until we make some progress on our house.

So without further ado, I would like to announce the names I pulled out of the hat (or – more accurately – my pencil case). Drumroll …

For

the winner is MELANIE PICKETT

For

the winner is MADELYN REYNEKE

Congratulations! Will both of you please send me a private message with your address? I’ll ship the books to you straight away.

Otherwise, you may remember that I contributed a (true) story to an anthology about Paris. This is a fun read with both fiction and non-fiction and a diversity of writing styles. The anthology is on sale until today for .99 so rush over HERE to get your kindle copy!

 

Oh wow. Apparently when you copy over smiley faces from e-mail to your blog they get huge. I’m leavin’ it!

And that’s it! Shortest post ever. Back to the drawing board with the fiction.

Hugs!

The post Winners Take Two (Broken Blog) appeared first on A Lady In France.

Books and Winners

This is a super short post to tell you who won the two books from my giveaway last week. I’m up to my elbows in writing and editing, and later today will be up to my elbows in physical therapy for carpal tunnel. I know I don’t have a good setup for writing, but I can’t do much about it until we make some progress on our house.

So without further ado, I would like to announce the names I pulled out of the hat (or – more accurately – my pencil case). Drumroll …

For

the winner is MELANIE PICKETT

For

the winner is MADELYN REYNEKE

Congratulations! Will both of you please send me a private message with your address? I’ll ship the books to you straight away.

Otherwise, you may remember that I contributed a (true) story to an anthology about Paris. This is a fun read with both fiction and non-fiction and a diversity of writing styles. The anthology is on sale until today for .99 so rush over HERE to get your kindle copy!

And that’s it! Shortest post ever. Back to the drawing board with the fiction.

Hugs!

The post Books and Winners appeared first on A Lady In France.

My Big Birthday Surprise

Here’s a nice light post with a few photos for you. Starting with the spring carnival at school. Juliet came along for the ride, though she’s a big girl in junior high now.

William’s class dressed as the birds from Rio (no good picture because he only had one wing and he whipped off his costume as soon as he could). Gabriel’s class dressed as Alice in Wonderland.

And then we just hung out with everyone, despite the chill.

And we ate a little junk food as one does at spring carnivals.

Or tried to eat each other’s junk food …

On Sunday, we had a beautiful day, and it was finally time to set up my birthday present. None of you will remember this, but my birthday is actually in the fall and I made a big announcement, like “Wait until you see the birthday present I asked for this year!” And then just like the ending of my novel that I painstakingly staged on my blog each week, no more was heard on the subject.

(Except the novel really is coming. It really is).

Before I tell you about the birthday surprise, here are a few spring pictures.

Although tulips are budding

and plum trees too

and cherry blossoms are coming (huge shocker because the workers gouged out a hole in the fragile tree trunk when they set down the scaffolding – grr) –

our garden is rather in a state of mess

Just one more thing to provide me with a blessed opportunity for patience, right? Ahem.

For my birthday, I asked for an adult-sized swing set so I could swing to my heart’s content. Besides being loads of fun and one of my favourite things to do – (which obviously I can never do because where in the world does one find an adult-sized swing?) – it gives you killer abs!

It was quite a bit of work to remove the old one and set up the new one.

And of course we had house church at our place on Sunday so by the time we started there was no chance of being able to pour the cement and finish the job. But we did get the portique in place. (The frame).

I’m looking on Amazon because, although the frame is perfect and sturdy, the accoutrements left much to be desired. I don’t want to crash through the spindly wooden seat (if I can even wedge my butt into this ‘adult-sized’ seat) and break my tailbone. The trapeze is also too small for my growing kids.

It’s hard to tell from the picture there just how tall the portique is but it’s 3 metres – the size of 1.5 tall men.

Here’s another image to give you a better idea.

So I’ll keep you posted when my birthday swing is functional. And you can leave me a comment to say how great or how ‘nul‘ (stupid) of an idea it is.

Multiple Giveaways

Two of my good friends launched books within a week of each other, and I almost titled this post “It’s Twins!” But then I figured you’d never forgive me.

Regency Draft Chapter One

I wanted to share with you what I’ve been working on, and why I’ve been neglecting my blog. First, my viscount story (modern-day romance, set in France) is getting closer to being ready. I’ve had 8 beta reads, and it’s currently in the hands of the last 3. After that, with the corrections made, I will publish it. (I do love the freedom of self-publishing).

Meanwhile, I’ve started the regency novel. Let me tell you, it’s almost excruciating how slow it is to write because I have to stop constantly and research things. I’ll tell you at the end of this post the kinds of things I researched in order to write this ONE chapter.

Yes, it needs work and this is a rough draft. And I know it’s kind of unfair to post rough drafts on my blog, especially when I go nearly to the end and then leaving you hanging for a year until you get the conclusion, like I did with the viscount. You hate that, don’t you?

But it’s hard for me to both blog and write, so here is what has been absorbing my focus.

CHAPTER ONE – September 1813

Eleanor Daventry’s posture had not yet flagged when the carriage turned on the winding road that led to Allinthridge Estate.

“Aunt Martha, we’re here.” The older lady gasped and sat up with a start. She fumbled in her reticule for her vinaigrette, and Eleanor opened the window and leaned out. “There’s a rider in the distance heading towards the estate. A gentleman. I wonder who else might be visiting.” She pulled her head back in and gave her aunt a sympathetic glance. “You are unwell. I wish we had stopped at the inn. The journey would not have been so hard on you if we had traveled in easy stages.”

Lady Daventry closed her eyes and shook her head. “No, we would have arrived too late. And a public inn is no place for you without a gentleman escort and only me as your guardian.”

“Aunt.” Eleanor’s voice was filled with affection and only the barest trace of exasperation. “I can manage a public inn. And it would have done you good. But never mind. We can ask that you’re shown straight to your room, and that your supper is brought to you.”

“You’ll do no such thing. I’m not an invalid. As your guardian, I’ll remain with you throughout supper.”

Eleanor bit her lip and a dimple peeped out. She stared at the green meadow and the copse of trees in the distance. “I have the smallest recollection of this place. I wonder that Lord Allinthridge didn’t invite me more often. Although, I suppose… ” Her voice trailed away as the carriage sped towards the estate, whose rows of windows were filled with golden iridescence from the setting sun.

The doors to the manor swung inward before the carriage came to a halt. Two liveried men marched down the steps and one opened the carriage door; the other stood at attention to assist Eleanor and her aunt as they stepped down. Eleanor extended her gloved hand. This is a relief. I wondered what my reception might be.

The housekeeper stepped aside from the doorway to allow Eleanor and her aunt to pass. “Good evening. I am Mrs. Bilks. May I take your pelisse, M’lady? Miss?” She gestured to two maids who stood by holding candles. Her gaze returned to the two women. “If both of you will come with me, I’ll show you to your rooms. We keep country hours here and serve dinner at six o’clock.”

The two women trailed behind the housekeeper. “I’m very glad of it,” Lady Daventry said, huffing as they climbed the winding staircase. “I prefer country hours, but this leaves us only an hour to dress. Is there a spare lady’s maid who can assist us, as we’ve brought none.”

“We’ve seen to it, m’lady. Preparations have been made for extra visitors, and we hired a girl from the village. She’s inexperienced in the ways of a lady’s maid, but she can dress hair expertly.”

“Thank you. Her help will be most welcome.”

The housekeeper led them along the railing towards the wing that held their accommodations, and Eleanor looked down at the footmen who were still in place. She had a flash of sympathy for them. How boring their days must be, and with little choice to do something different.

A movement drew her gaze, and she turned to see a gentleman entering the foyer in mud-splattered breeches. A quick glance told her he was tall, blond, and rather gaunt for his height. When he saw her, he drew back a step and murmured something to one of the footmen who immediately left his place. Without another look, he walked back through the door and Eleanor faced forward again.

“… in adjoining rooms where you’ll be quite comfortable. I’ve had the scullery maid stoke the fire so you can warm up.”

“Would you be so kind as to bring my aunt some tea?” Lady Daventry frowned at Eleanor but did not demur. She knew her aunt must feel more poorly than she let on. “I can dress my own hair.”

“No, Eleanor—”

“M’lady, if you please?” Mrs. Bilks interrupted when Aunt Martha’s voice trailed away. “I will bring you the tea myself while Betsy dresses Miss Daventry’s hair, and when you’ve had your tea, she can see to you.”

“That would be lovely.”

Eleanor entered the room assigned to her and found it was larger than the room she had stayed in during her only previous visit, and that the view was far superior. Here was another sign of a most cordial welcome. My guardian must have made arrangements before he succumbed to his illness.

She sank into the bed, which was plump with feathers, and took a moment to center her breathing. When her mother left, she learned that focusing on breathing in and out allowed her to keep the panic at bay. She processed the upcoming meeting with the solicitor tomorrow, which she hoped would give her the freedom she desired. If not, she was determined to look for a position as a governess. She could not be a burden to her aunt any longer.

As she removed pins from her hair as she sat on the felted stool in front of the glass, her thoughts went to the gentleman who had drawn back from her line of view as soon as he spotted her. Was he also here to attend tomorrow’s meeting? She would find out soon enough at dinner, she assumed.

The village girl was not long in coming. She began to unlace the back of her dress with deft fingers, although Eleanor could sense she was shaking. “Betsy, is it?” The girl nodded. “Thank you for your help. You’re doing a fine job.” She smiled at her in the mirror. The girl blushed, dropped a curtsy, and continued her work with more vigour.

Eleanor slipped on her evening gown—a pale yellow crepe that would offset her brown hair and brown eyes—as the girl shook out her travel dress and laid it on the bed. “Miss, if you don’t mind, I’ll take this downstairs during dinner and see to the mud.”

“Yes, please do. Now come and lace me up so you’ll have time to dress my hair and assist my aunt. It wouldn’t do for us to be late to dinner.” She remained standing as Betsy pulled her dress tight,  then sat down and watched the maid weave long braids around the chignon and coax her rather insipid brown hair into curls that sprang next to her cheeks.

She turned her head to view her profile. “You are truly gifted. I don’t think I’ve ever looked so well.” Eleanor faced the pink-cheeked girl and bestowed another smile, causing Betsy to curtsy again and mumble something inarticulate. “I can put my own jewelry on. Will you see to my aunt now?” The girl nodded and scurried out the room.

When Eleanor was satisfied with her appearance, she knocked at her aunt’s door. A quick glance told her everything. “Aunt, you really cannot go down,” she protested. “You’re too ill!”

Her aunt’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m afraid you are right, but I cannot allow you to have dinner alone with the earl.”

“The earl! What do you mean?”

“The former earl’s successor is here. He will be present at the reading of the will. We had thought he was still on the battlefield, but Mrs. Bilks just informed me he resigned his commission and has taken up residence on the estate.”

Oh, so that’s the gentleman I saw… Eleanor chewed her lip. Normally she bucked against the restraints of chaperonage, but she rarely ventured out of her intimate circle of acquaintances. The image of the strange gentleman drawing back out of sight gave her pause, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to dine alone with him, even if a maid were present. “If he’s here, I suppose I must send word down that I will take dinner in my room.”

“No. I will send for Mrs. Bilks. Betsy will you—?” The young maid darted off to fetch her superior, and Aunt Martha held a hand to her forehead. “Eleanor, I do not wish for you to stay in your room all evening because I am discomposed. Mrs. Bilks will have to serve as chaperone in my place, but you will come to your room after dinner instead of going to the drawing room.”

“Yes, Aunt.” Eleanor sat on the footstool at her feet, took her aunt’s hands in her own, and rubbed them.

Aunt Martha patted her niece’s hand with the ghost of a smile. “You are unusually pliable, my child.”

“Aunt! I am not unfeeling!” Eleanor chuckled. “Truthfully, I’m uncomfortable knowing my guardian’s successor is here. I did not wish to meet him during the reading of the will. I don’t know why.”

Her aunt sighed but did not comment. There was a knock, and when the housekeeper entered, Eleanor stood up. “My aunt is unwell and cannot go to dinner. Let us get her comfortably situated. And then—” She again turned to her aunt for guidance.

“Mrs. Bilks, you can have Betsy assist me into bed.” Lady Daventry pushed away Eleanor’s hands. “I would like you to accompany Miss Daventry to dinner. Please send my regrets that I am unable to make the earl’s acquaintance, but I don’t like the idea of my niece eating dinner alone in her room.”

“Yes, m’lday.” Mrs. Bilks opened the door and Betsy slipped inside. She motioned for her to assist the older woman, while she turned to the younger. “Miss, will you follow me?”

Eleanor kissed her aunt’s cheek. “Rest well, dear Aunt. I shall hope for your company tomorrow morning.” She followed the housekeeper into the dim corridor, feeling vulnerable and a sense of doom. Like a lamb to the slaughter, she mused and suddenly repressed a giggle.

Mrs. Bilks turned the knob and ushered Eleanor into a brightly lit drawing room where a gentleman—the gentleman was standing facing the fire. Even from behind she recognized his blond mane. The blue superfine coat stretched across undeniably broad shoulders, even if they lacked substance. The tail of his coat hid the rest. Not that she was looking.

He turned.

“M’lord, may I present Miss Daventry.” The housekeeper allowed time for the gentleman to cross the room and stand before the young lady. “Miss, this is Lord Allinthridge.” The earl bowed, and Eleanor curtsied. Then she peeked at his face. His eyes were haunted.

The housekeeper continued. “Lady Daventry is unwell and cannot join you for dinner. She has asked me to accompany Miss Daventry to the dining room.” The earl nodded his acquiescence and gestured forward. They were silent until the first course had been served, and the footmen were standing with the housekeeper discreetly against the wall behind them.

The earl cleared his throat. “Miss Daventry, I hope your travel was agreeable.”

She noticed his smile did not reach his eyes. “Apart from my poor aunt’s suffering, it was very agreeable. I do not travel much and was—” She faltered as he knocked over his glass of claret and  the red stain bled through the tablecloth.

“Excuse me.” His voice was gruff as the butler jumped in to refill his glass, and the footman mopped up the stain.

Eleanor worked her lips, wondering if it would be more polite to stay silent or to speak. She took two spoonfuls of her egg ball soup. Finally, the silence grew unbearable. “My lord, I understand you’ve resigned your commission. Were you in the Peninsula?”

The earl took a moment before responding. It seemed as if he were concentrating on keeping his hand steady as he took a pull of his wine. “Yes, Vitoria was my last battle. It was a convenient time to leave the army with such a victory behind us.”

After another silence, he motioned for the footman to bring the jellies to his dinner companion. “Mr. Harvey informed me of your presence at the reading of the will tomorrow. As it will not be read until 2:00, would you like to have a horse saddled in the morning?”

“That would be kind of you.” Eleanor declined the roast beef that was being offered and accepted the sole. “I do not often have this pleasure.”

“I can lend you my groom. Unfortunately I have a meeting with the bailiff, which will last the morning.” He grimaced and resumed eating, not—it appeared—expecting a response.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her feeling of dread growing acute. She was not an experienced conversationalist, and this was only the second course. The dinner would be unbearable.

When the silence had gone on too long, he broke it. “You are situated at Sussex, I believe?”

Why is it so uncomfortable to converse with him? Please let this meal not have too many courses. “For the time being, I am under the protection of Lady Daventry, who resides in Sussex. My guardian—the former Earl of Allinthridge—consigned me to her care when… when I lost my parents,” she resumed, her composed voice hiding any internal turmoil. “My father’s friendship with your uncle, as you might know, was of long date.”

“I’m afraid I’ve not yet had time to apprehend this branch of the family’s genealogy or its  acquaintances. I was made aware of my succession to the land and title only when my uncle’s illness reached a critical juncture.”

Eleanor would have liked to have asked what relationship he had to the former earl and what his feelings were on discovering he was a man of property—among other things—but these inquiries could not be uttered. Instead she resorted to the weather.

“Did you encounter much rain on your return to England?”

“There was a great deal of sun in Spain, so the English rain was well-met.” He chewed his beef thoughtfully and stared at the emerald green curtains that shut the evening light from the dining room.

Eleanor sighed. Besides being an uncomfortable man, he is a prose. She endured this and other desultory remarks until the earl finally stood, signaling the end of the meal. His square jaw held no softness, his deep voice no inflection or warmth. “Mrs. Bilks will see to your comfort. If you want anything, you need only ask.”

“Thank you, my lord.” She inclined her head and followed the housekeeper out the door. The candle threatened to extinguish in the cool, drafty corridor. It is so unpleasant here. If tomorrow I am accorded even a competence I will no longer be at anyone’s mercy.

* * * 

So that’s chapter one! This is what I researched while writing it:

Timeline of the battles in the Peninsular war

Napoleonic wars (for Eleanor’s father)

Name of material in both her dress and his coat. (A lot of times, I’m pretty sure I know the answer, but I want to be sure).

How to address specific titles, and the use of the last name versus the title

Names of servants, roles of servants, how to address servants

Names of gentry and peerage

Timing of London season (so I could start the novel at the right time)

Entailment and settlement of deeds for the reading of the will

Country hours – what time dinner is served

Correct chaperonage in a country house

Regions and cities in England to determine where she would live

How many courses in a meal and what was served

Vehicles used during the regency era.

And I know there is more. And that’s just the first chapter. Oh, I do hope it will get easier.

Falling Apart

Our house is falling apart. The ceiling dropping chunks of plaster, the black mold creeping all over the walls, the rat swimming up our toilet … (okay that last one was gratuitous and has nothing to do with the construction – only the trials of this earth).

With all these things, do I need another reminder not to store up treasures in my worldly goods?

“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. (Mt 6)

We’re coming to the stretch of construction where the interior of our house is going to be in shambles – worse than a few chunks of plaster falling or mold bubbling all the paint. We’ll have to break a hole in our wall to build a staircase that will reach the newly-constructed upstairs.

At the moment, the workers access it by scaffolding only, and not from the inside. Once they get the stairwell in place, there will be someone to come and repair all the damage – to clean and cover the mold, replaster and paint the ceiling …

In preparation for that, we have to box everything up as if we were going to move. We need to put all the valuables in boxes and stash them out of the way. This:

becomes this.

And each family antique is wrapped in modern newspaper and placed unceremoniously – though carefully – in a cardboard box. The Russian teapot

the hand-painted plates and serving dishes

and crystal …  I have no idea what this is, but it’s old.

I do love antiques. They’re not as valuable in France as they are in the US because there are so many. All of ours are greasy from humidity and dust, and I’m looking at this project as a good thing – a forced spring cleaning once the air vents are installed and the air and walls are cleaner in our house.

I’ve been blogging less, and doing more generic posts like recipes, which – for those who like the personal posts (or who hate cooking) – might be frustrating. Part of it is because there are some things I can’t or won’t share on a personal forum (usually because it involves other people). Part of it is because the mess in our house is starting to wear on me, patient as I (think I) am.

Part of it is because I’m just working more on the books. I’m beta reading for people, reviewing people’s books, and I’m writing and editing. I can’t let the blogging go because I love the immediate connection I have with you guys. But I find that writing books is starting to have a strong pull and I want more of it.

The viscount story – I hope it will be ready for publishing in another month or two. I’m still waiting for feedback from two fellow authors. And I finally started my regency, and am on page 4. I know. Four whole pages. Hold on to your seats.

Sometimes I’m hopeful with all these things. Sometimes I’m down. And the decrepit state of our house seems symbolic of all the undercurrents of battles I can’t discuss.

(This is our 1772 French Bible).

It occurred to me – when I was finally ready to get this post up – that I would be publishing it on what is known as Good Friday. Although I can’t figure out what’s good about it since it was the darkest moment of history. The moment when creation killed its Creator.

Maybe it’s good because of the redemption that followed. The hope that came out of darkness. All I know is this:

Jesus went out as usual to the Mount of Olives, and his disciples followed him. On reaching the place, he said to them, “Pray that you will not fall into temptation.” He withdrew about a stone’s throw beyond them, knelt down and prayed, “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done.” An angel from heaven appeared to him and strengthened him. And being in anguish, he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground. (Luke 22)

and this

From noon until three in the afternoon darkness came over all the land. About three in the afternoon Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Eli, Eli, lemasabachthani?” (which means “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”).

And when Jesus had cried out again in a loud voice, he gave up his spirit.

At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The earth shook, the rocks split and the tombs broke open. The bodies of many holy people who had died were raised to life. They came out of the tombs after Jesus’ resurrection and went into the holy city and appeared to many people. When the centurion and those with him who were guarding Jesus saw the earthquake and all that had happened, they were terrified, and exclaimed, “Surely he was the Son of God!” (Matthew 28)

Became this:

Now Mary stood outside the tomb crying. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb and saw two angels in white, seated where Jesus’ body had been, one at the head and the other at the foot.

They asked her, “Woman, why are you crying?”

“They have taken my Lord away,” she said, “and I don’t know where they have put him.” At this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not realize that it was Jesus.

He asked her, “Woman, why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?”

Thinking he was the gardener, she said, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.”

Jesus said to her, “Mary.”

She turned toward him and cried out in Aramaic, “Rabboni!” (which means “Teacher”).

and this.

After his suffering, he presented himself to them and gave many convincing proofs that he was alive. He appeared to them over a period of forty days and spoke about the kingdom of God. On one occasion, while he was eating with them, he gave them this command: “Do not leave Jerusalem, but wait for the gift my Father promised, which you have heard me speak about. (Acts 1)

And I know that the black hole my friend spoke about on Sunday – the one that sucks all life and light and joy and hope from one’s world – Jesus experienced this as he faced the cross.

And I know that with his death he took our individual, personal black holes into the grave so we could taste life and light and joy and hope again. What can Satan accuse us of? Not sin and shame. We are not guilty of sin because Jesus died for our sins, and with no sin there is no shame. What about murder? Can Satan accuse us of Jesus’ death since we put him on the cross? No. We are not guilty of Jesus’ death because he was resurrected. He’s alive!

When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality, then the saying that is written will come true: “Death has been swallowed up in victory.”

“Where, O death, is your victory?

    Where, O death, is your sting?” (1 Cor 15)

Everything around us might be crumbling. Our lives might be falling apart – our home, our health, our hope falling in shreds and scattered in the wind. The black hole might edge into our vision, telling us that nothing awaits but terror and dismay.

On this day those 2 millennia ago, everything around Jesus was tinged with darkness and he fell under the burden of it. He fell to his knees and cried because he was afraid and weary with sorrow. He fell under the weight of the flogging. He buckled under the weight of the Roman beating. He fell under the weight of the cross as he tried to carry it. He fell onto the planks as they grabbed his wrists and feet and pounded a stake through them. And he fell into the abyss of death where he stayed for three days and preached to those who had been disobedient in the days of Noah.

Satan uses death and despair as a cloak, but these things never had the last word. Sometimes everything falls apart because it needs to – a seed has to fall to the ground in order to produce a crop of a hundred-fold. This breaking-down, falling-apart stage can be scary until you remember the things that really matter.

Until you remember that in those things everything is intact.

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