Emilie Richards's Blog, page 119

Happy Endings? Yours or Mine?

I’m going to make a confession.  I like to smile at the end of a novel.  I like to think that problems have been resolved, that the characters I grew to care about will start the next phase of their lives with fewer burdens and a healthy dose of optimism.  I like, dare I admit it, a happy ending.  You may feel the same way.

But your happy ending and my happy ending?  Are they necessarily the same?

I once heard the happy ending defined as “the satisfying conclusion to the central conflict.” I liked that and made it my own, because frankly, I think happy endings are much broader than we sometimes assume. After all, if there was only one way to end every story, what exactly would be the point of reading?

The subject of happy endings came up recently when a reviewer contacted my publisher and admitted she faced a dilemma with my upcoming novel, One Mountain Away. Not that she didn’t like it. She did. A lot. In fact she made One Mountain Away one of her rare recommended reads. But the reviewer, Dorine Linnen, knew that some of the readers who read her reviews at Romance Junkies, might find this novel so different from the happily-ever-afters of the romance novels she normally reviews, that she wanted to find a way to warn them without giving away the story. And so, thoughtful woman that she is, she contacted my publisher for a discussion.

In the end  Dorine solved the problem this way:

“I need to mention that ONE MOUNTAIN AWAY may not meet the expectations of those who read mostly romance, even though it has a beautiful love story within it.  It’s women’s fiction and definitely follows a different drummer, which is why I love it.  I highly recommend this novel as an inspirational journey well worth the box of tissue you’ll go through while reading, and even though there’s a great deal of love within this novel, it’s more about women’s relationships and their personal growth.  ONE MOUNTAIN AWAY is filled with sorrow, optimism, forgiveness, faith and a deep love that transcends a lifetime.”

You can read the rest of her wonderful review here.

Can a novel that requires “a box of tissue” be a novel with a happy ending?

Every novel sets up a different set of problems, but if a character sets out on a difficult journey, we want him or her to reach the destination with new wisdom and insight, even while encountering obstacles that may still be roadblocks in the future. In “women’s fiction” we expect the novel’s characters to grow and change for the better, but most of all, we want them to find what they’ve spent the novel searching for.

You will have to decide what a happy ending means for you, but I can tell you that by my definition, One Mountain Away has a happy ending and I look forward to discussing it with you after you’ve read it. While a box of tissue may be called for, I also promise that when I finished my final edits, I was smiling.

I think you will be smiling, too.

Sunday Poetry: Golden-Buttercup-Wild

Welcome to Sunday Poetry. If this is your first visit you can read about the purpose and inspiration of my Sunday poetry blogs here.

Wow, it’s been hot, right? Maybe not for all of you, but many of you have been suffering under the heaviest hand summer has employed in memory. While our weather here in Western NY has been blessedly cool in the evenings, we’ve “enjoyed” daytime temperatures in the 90s, in houses not built for them. I’ve been forced to remember my childhood in Florida, when air-conditioning was something few of us enjoyed and sweltering June classrooms made concentration nearly impossible.

Summer definitely has its charms, though, doesn’t it? Renowned poet May Sarton writes so beautifully about them in Summer Music. I thought we might need a reminder of summer’s joys as the temperatures continue to climb.

Remember, we read poetry together here for the pure pleasure of the experience. There are no quizzes, no right ways to read or contemplate the poem we share. Absolutely no dissecting allowed. Just come along for the “read.” What line, word or thought will you carry with you this week? If you’d like to tell us where the poem took you? We’ll listen.

Remember, too, there is a special giveaway in progress for those who comment on any Sunday Poetry blog before year’s end.  See the details here.

Fiction Friday: One Mountain Away Begins

What could make more sense one month from the publication of a new book than a preview for my faithful blog readers?  So today Fiction Friday begins.  For the next six weeks stop by to read the first chapter and a half of One Mountain Away, the first book of my Godesses Anonymous series, one blog’s worth at a time.

Meet Charlotte Hale and Analiese Wagner, whose lives will intertwine in the weeks that unfold. Charlotte has secrets and Analiese, her minister, has a duty to help her, despite every inclination to run in the other direction. But, of course, the story is both richer and more complex. There’s Maddie and Ethan, Taylor, Samantha, Harmony, Georgia. So many people whose lives will intersect with Charlotte’s, and everybody’s lives will change because of it.

With further preface, enjoy the opening chapters of One Mountain Away,  from Mira Books, which goes on sale at bookstores everywhere on July 31st.

CHAPTER ONE

First Day Journal: April 28th

Today Maddie is wearing blue the color of a summer sky. The choice is a good one. Any shade of blue probably suits her, but, of course, in the years before adolescence, most children look wonderful in every shade of the rainbow. At Maddie’s age skin is flawless and radiant, and hair is glossy. I think her eyes are probably blue. This is an educated guess, based on the light brown of her hair, the rose tint of her cheeks, and her preferences for every shade from royal to periwinkle. I bet somebody’s told her how pretty she looks when she wears it. I remember how susceptible girls of ten are to compliments. Her mother certainly was.

This park is always filled with children. I come here to watch them play, while at the same time I worry they make learning personal facts too easy. I feel absurdly protective, so I make it my job to watch out for strangers who show too much interest or approach them to start conversations.

This is absurd, of course, because to the children, I’m a stranger, too. A stranger enjoying a glimpse back in time to a childhood she never experienced. A stranger scribbling in a journal she resisted for weeks until the lure became too great.

I’m calling this my First Day journal because of a quote from the 1970s. When I first arrived in Asheville the words radiated in psychedelic colors from posters in every store downtown.

“Today is the first day of the rest of your life.”

Ironically during the time the saying was wildly popular, I was too busy to think about it. For me a day was just something to get through to make way for another. But now every time I sit down to record my past and my thoughts, I’ll need the reminder that every day brings a new start, whether we need one or not.

A shriek draws my attention. The boy swinging up the spokes of the metal dome with Maddie is named Porter. Apparently his mop of black hair makes it hard to see because he continually shakes his head in frustration, or maybe just in hopes the strands will fly out of his eyes for the time it takes to lumber to the top. I know his name because the other children shout it loudly and often. Porter’s something of a bully. Overweight, a little shabbier than the others, a little clumsy.

It’s that last that makes the boy pick on Maddie, I think. Porter’s figured out an eternal truth. If he makes fun of someone else, no one will look quite so hard at him. While this makes me angry, I understand. The world’s filled with bullies, but at birth, not a one of them glanced at the next cradle and plotted how to steal the pacifier out of a baby-neighbor’s mouth. It’s only later they learn that knocking down other people may help them stand taller.

So while Porter’s behavior upsets me, I feel sorry for him, as well. He’s still just a boy. I want to take him in hand and teach him the manners he’ll need to get by in the world, but Porter’s neither my son nor grandson. I’m just a stranger on a park bench watching children make mistakes and enemies, decisions and friends.

***Congratulations to Tracey DeAdder who won the second package of 5 books in my Seventy Books Giveaway.  If you haven’t entered, the rules are here.    Tracey said: “I love to read about the people and the places and the roads those people travel. Your books bring make me feel like home.”  Thank you, Tracey.

June: What Busy Feels Like

I’m always busy. You probably are, too. We zip from project to project, destination to destination. We multi-task and feel guilty we can’t do three things at once instead of two. We put memo pads beside our beds in case we remember something else we need to do in the middle of the night. We keep magazines or mail to peruse in the bathroom. We brush our teeth while we’re devising our next contribution to the Word game we’re playing on our iPhones.

My life’s been like that. But June? June was a new leap forward. In June we sold our house, tried to buy another, failed, divided our belongings into three categories, rented a 10′ U-Haul, contracted with a moving company, then proceeded to let them pack and store the Florida stuff while we moved the NY stuff ourselves. Oh, and in between?  I wrote whenever I could, answered email and tried to blog. In the middle of this?  Did I forget to mention the knee surgery and physical therapy? Or all the retirement celebrations for my husband who completed 39 years of ministry?

So it’s been a crazy, busy time, which is why Southern Exposure lagged. And frankly, I paid the price. For two weeks after arriving in New York, I was so exhausted that lifting one foot to put in front of the other was a challenge with no reward. I didn’t want to go anywhere. I wanted to stare into space and remind myself why we made these changes. I wasn’t mourning. I was just, well, tired of being busy.

I’m delighted to say that two weeks of limited activity has done the trick. I’m looking forward to finishing my book and enjoying life again in between chapters. I’m looking forward to finding another permanent home, and just as much to not having a deadline to do so.

But really, it takes a month like June to remind me how important it is not to be busy.

There was a wonderful editorial piece in the New York Times on the last day of June, which was symbolic for me. Tim Kreider in The Busy Trap tells us that people aren’t busy because they have to be (those who really must be complain of exhaustion, not busyness) but because they’re responding to their own anxieties and fears. I love his final line, “Life is too short to be busy.”

Life really is too short to be busy, particularly for a writer. How can we write if we don’t spend at least half our time filling the well? But wait, isn’t that true for stay-at-home mom’s, too? How can they be patient, thoughtful parents if they’re so busy running their kids from place to place they don’t have time to listen to them?

And isn’t it true for doctors, who these days don’t have time to listen or ponder a difficult diagnosis? Or the lawyer who’s so busy preparing multiple briefs and keeping track of billable hours he/she loses sight of the human side of the legal equation?

What about you? How does your “busyness” keep you from moving to a more thoughtful, values-driven life? What keeps you away from the things that really matter? I plan to spend July asking myself that question. But not while I’m doing a million other things. That would surely defeat the purpose. Maybe I’ll find some quiet places to sit and simply think about what I can let go of. That would be revolutionary.

How about you?

If you haven’t commented to enter my 70 Book Giveaway, you have until July 31st. Everything you need to know is right here. I’m delighted to say the first winner of  a package of five books has been chosen and contacted. Congratulations Beverly Silvestre, whose comment was chosen by random.org. The next winner will be chosen tomorrow. If you’ve already entered, sit back and enjoy the summer breeze. You don’t need to be busy again. You’ve done your part.

Sunday Poetry: A Special Giveaway

Welcome back to Sunday Poetry, after my short hiatus.

Those of you who’ve been following along this past year know this blog began after I heard poet Billy Collins speak at Chautauqua Institution several years ago.  I was so impressed that I checked out the Library of Congress site he began, Poetry 180, which was created for high school students.  A poem a day to be pondered.  What a terrific way to encourage a love of poetry.

I discovered other sources of poetry (all with permission of the poets, the only kind I’ll link to) on the web and decided it would be fun for us to explore a poem a week together.  Not to analyze or dissect.  I think that’s the very reason some of us (myself included) learned to dislike poetry in the first place.   But to savor.  My only question is what phrase or idea might you take away with you for the remainder of the week?  Poetry as meditation.

Yesterday I had the delightful experience of hearing Mr. Collins again.  Twice, in fact.  Once in conversation with author/playwright Roger Rosenblatt at the Chautauqua Amphitheatre, the other as he read from his newest work, Horoscopes for the Dead.

Most delightful of all, after the reading, Mr. Collins signed copies, and now I have an autographed copy of Horoscopes for the Dead to give away.

Between now and December 31st, everybody who comments on any of my Sunday Poetry blogs will be eligible to win.  That’s all you need to do.  This giveaway is open to everyone, anywhere, and you may comment  each week for more opportunities to win.  Of course I reserve the right not to include comments that are inappropriate or irrelevant.  I will also delete responses that are identical to any that came before.  Just be original and tell us what you think about the poem of the day.  Random.org will do the rest.

I’m happy to say that the title poem of the collection is available here, at the PEN American Center website.  What line, word or thought will you carry with you this week? If you’d like to tell us where the poem took you? We’ll listen.

My Seventy Book Latest and Greatest Giveaway

My best novels happen when ideas collide.  Take two seemingly unrelated but interesting situations, then watch them tango warily around each other until suddenly they’re dancing cheek to cheek, and the plot for a book has begun to form.

Today, as I was handling papers and packing books for my move to somewhere this week, the same thing occurred.  As I filed the book list my assistant had made for me, I decided to count the books I’ve written.  I discovered that One Mountain Away will be book number 70!

What a great way to inaugurate a new series.  My 70th novel.  If you’re tuning in a bit late, then you need to know that a number of those books were series romances, shorter than the single title women’s fiction I write now. Some were even novellas, of the 25,000 word variety. Some were cozy mysteries, again a bit shorter.

But 70 books is still a cause for celebration.

As I packed up what books are left in my study and wondered why I still had so many, I pondered exactly how I should celebrate this milestone. Then, of course, it hit me.

I should give away 70 of my backlist novels as a thank-you to all the readers who have through the years supported me, as well as to introduce newer readers to my older books.

I should give away the books beginning in July, leading up to the publication of number 70 itself, One Mountain Away.

See what I mean about good ideas?

So, today I’m announcing my latest and greatest book giveaway.

Beginning Monday, July 2, every Monday, Wednesday, Friday through August 2nd I will give away a package of 5 books. That’s fourteen packages of 5 books each to fourteen lucky winners. Each package will contain two of my “longer” series romances, two of my single title women’s fiction novels, and one novella in an anthology with other authors. Some of the books have been on my shelves for years, but they were all my author copies and never sold or read.

All books will be signed and one in each envelope will be personalized to the winner.  Add it all up?  70 books total.

How do you enter? 

Comment on ANY blog here at Southern Exposure beginning today and tell us at least one reason you read my books or WANT to read my books.  One full sentence or more, please.  
I will log only one original entry per reader, although you can comment as frequently as you like.  
Your opportunity to comment extends from today through midnight July 31, but remember you can comment on ANY Southern Exposure blog during that time.  Just be sure your comment explains why you read my books or want to.  Other types of comments are always welcome, but won’t be considered entries.
When notified by email that you’ve won, you must provide me with an address within ten days, or another winner will be chosen to replace you.
Only one win per reader.   That means fourteen unique winners.

Simple, simple.  And I’ll remind you to comment on every blog between now and then.

By the way, this will be my final blog from Virginia, and I’ll be on hiatus for a little while as we settle for the summer in Western New York.  But I’ll be back soon, relaxed and eager.  You can count on it.

Sunday Poetry: A World Made By Displacement

Welcome to Sunday Poetry. If this is your first visit you can read about the purpose and inspiration of my Sunday poetry blogs here.

I’m in the midst of moving, but I couldn’t let this occasion go unmarked.  Natasha Trethewey was just named the 19th U.S. poet laureate by the Library of Congress, and I wanted to feature her today. Not only did I find a powerful poem to share, but you will hear her read Monument at this link.  She was born in Gulfport, Mississippi in 1966, and has accrued many honors, including a Pulitzer Prize for Poetry.

Remember, we read poetry together here for the pure pleasure of the experience. There are no quizzes, no right ways to read or contemplate the poem we share. Absolutely no dissecting allowed. Just come along for the “read.” What line, word or thought will you carry with you this week? If you’d like to tell us where the poem took you? We’ll listen.

Aggie Sloan-Wilcox Wants To Know

Blessed is the Busybody at Amazon

Some people can not be ignored.  Even if you hope they’ll just go away if you send them a smile and a nod, in your heart you know better.   They’ll still be hanging around at the end of the day, until finally, they can slip right in and ask a question or, in this case, questions.

Aggie Sloan-Wilcox is one such person.  She’s not impolite, and she’s not pushy–at least not very.  She’s just, well, nosy.  Aggie wants answers to all of life’s questions, and she doesn’t accept the easy ones.  She wants to find them for herself, and so she, well, investigates.  Everything.

Recently, when Aggie learned that my personal sojourn as the wife of an actively employed minister was ending, she zeroed right in on the questions that come along with any life changing event.

She promises my answers might help when Ed, her minister husband, decides to pursue another profession, or even when he is pursued by a red-eyed, fire-breathing posse of vigilante church members who didn’t like a sermon or his decision about where to hold the annual church picnic. (It happens.)

So without further adieu, here’s Aggie. . .

Aggie Sloan-Wilcox:  This is a momentous event in your life, Emilie. You’ve been the spouse of a minister for several decades, and no matter how carefully you’ve distanced part of yourself from your husband’s career, the church has still been a big part of your life. How do you feel?  My friend Hildy Dorchester (A Truth for a Truth) had a lot of trouble letting go after her husband’s retirement (and murder).  Will you?

Emilie:  I’ve loved being part of the five churches my husband has served, particularly watching him conduct services, but he’ll still be doing that from time to time. We’ll always be involved in churches in one way or the other, only now the pace will be less frantic. And you know what I like best? Now I can sit with him during church services, something I’ve never been able to do.

Aggie Sloan-Wilcox: Being part of a minister’s family is the definition of life in a fishbowl. Good/bad memories?

Emilie: Trying to explain to teenagers why they have to go to church when they would rather sleep in like their friends. Cringing when a small child throws a tantrum during social hour–my small child, alias the minister’s son. Keeping my opinions to myself, because no matter how I qualify them, whatever I say is attributed to the minister and comes back to haunt him.

Best memory and most important? Being part of a wonderful community of people whom I love and admire and knowing how much of a difference that community and my husband’s part in it, make in their lives.

Aggie Sloan-Wilcox: What advice do you have for church congregations (regardless of denomination) about the care and feeding of the minister’s family?

Emilie: I am so glad you asked. Having just watched our congregation give my husband a glorious send-off, I’ll tell you what I observed from this extremely fine and healthy congregation.

The following are always welcome:  Thank-yous. Acknowledgement that the minister may have a different but equally valid point of view. Understanding that the minister can’t be everywhere. Realization that each minister has special gifts and needs space and support to use them effectively. Open lines of communication instead of secret phone trees or griping sessions.

Ministry is not an easy job, in fact statistically 50% of all ministers will not last 5 years at the job. 50% of those who do would choose a different job if one were available, and only 1 in every 10 ministers retires as a minister. 80% of spouses believe the minister is overworked, (55 to 75 hours per week) and  80% of spouses feel under-appreciated and wish their partner had chosen another profession. (Pastoral Care Inc.)

Aggie Sloan-Wilcox:  You’ve probably anticipated this final question.  Would you do it again?

Emilie: In a heartbeat. But I have to say, Aggie, that I am delighted I’ve never had to solve a murder while I was sorting clothing for the church rummage sale. I have to hand it to you.  You’ve definitely one-upped me. (For which I am profoundly grateful.)

Sunday Poetry: On Hiatus

Sunday Poetry will return once our move is completed in a few weeks.  Meantime, let us know if you find a poem with particular meaning to you.

Tidbits

Olivia from Treasure Beach

Just a few fun tidbits today.

Tidbit One:  Some of you have written to learn the fate of Treasure Beach, the “novellini” I wrote last year for Southern Exposure, set between Fortunate Harbor and Sunset Bridge (books two and three of the Happiness Key series.)  I’m happy to say that while you can no longer read it at my blog, you will be able to read it again.  My publisher bought the rights and is putting it out in July with another novella by author Sheila Roberts.

The anthology will be called Summer in a Small Town and published strictly as an ebook, priced at $1.99.  I’ve seen a cover mock-up.  While the cover isn’t coastal Florida, (Sheila’s setting is on the cover) it feels suitable anyway.

For more information, check my website from time to time.  And as always, if you’re on my newsletter list, (a new one went out this week) you’ll get word directly in your inbox.  (I send updates four times a year, so sign on without fear of being inundated.)

Tidbit Two:  I can’t tell you how nice it was to read all your comments on my recent blog about moving.  I was surprised and honored you took the time to wish me well.  We are sure this adventure will be a good one, but having you tell me so helped.  I read all my mail and much appreciate it.

Tidbit Three:  I’m happy to announce the winner of the May List giveaway, as chosen by Random.org, is Gladys, who asked the eternal question:  ”Will the Leaning Tower of Pisa ever fall?”  I hope it doesn’t, not in my lifetime.  Gladys wins an autographed copy of Rising Tides.  Congratulations, Gladys.

Tidbit Four:  Brenda Novak’s auction closed yesterday and the final total was $306,000 for diabetes research.  See what one woman can accomplish when she pursues her dream? My item, quilt books and a gift certificate for fabric, closed at $70.

Tidbit Five:  And speaking of my Quilt Along with Emilie books?  I’m pleased to announce I  just donated a large stash of brand new copies to the VA Quilt Museum to sell in their bookstore to help raise money for the museum.  They’re all autographed, and if you’re really anxious to have a set, I bet they’d be willing to ship one at cost.  It never hurts to email and ask.  This is a museum you shouldn’t miss visiting if you’re traveling through the Shenandoah Valley.  A wonderful, wonderful place.

This weekend is my husband’s retirement celebration and we have family coming from all over, including our grandchildren, who will be dedicated at my husband’s final service as minister of our church.  It’s a huge milestone for all of us.  I am so proud of him.  He was unanimously voted the minister emeritus of our congregation, a wonderful honor.  We will party hearty.

Off to figure out how to feed twenty family members after the final service. . .