For Bright's Pond Fans

Here's the thing, I've been thinking a lot about Bright's Pond lately. Writers are like that. In fact they say, (whoever they are) writers are always writing--it's true. I've always got some new or weird scenario playing around in my brain. It makes for a tired brain sometimes and try as I might to take a vacation from it, I can't--except when I play video games. Concentrating on a video game actually rests my weary, story laden brain. Anyhoo, now that there is a new Bright's Pond book coming out next fall, (I know, I know it's a looooooong way off, but time has a way of sneaking up on us brain-boggy authors.)I have decided to write a Bright's Pond Companion. I need a new title. Garrison Keilor already has it. I love Lake Wobegon and would never want to step on their toes, so I need a new title. The Bright's Pond Friend? Nah, The Bright's Pond Compendium? Uhm. Well, anyway, what I am planning to do is make a book that will have all the characters, a little info about them, you know birthdates and such, who is related to who, recipes from Bright's Pond, like Full Moon Pie, maps, stuff like that. I planned on working on it this week and next while I wait for the edits of Charlotte Figg Takes Over Paradise to come through. Sound like a plan? I thought so. That's what I'll be doing. I wanted to NOT write this week but that's impossible. So, if there is anything you want to know about Bright's Pond or one of the folks living there drop me a note or leave a comment and I'll see what I can do. I am planning a trip up there pretty soon. Just as soon as I can remember where I parked the WayBack machine.

Where's the Remote?

Here's the thing, I cannot find the remote for the Christmas tree. This is seriously bumming me out. My son, Adam, wired the entire house to light up with glorious Christmas merriment with a click of the remote switch. Bravo Adam! This morning I got up gloriously early wanting a nice cup of coffee and to sit by the tree in the wee hours and . . . think . . . about stuff. I searched everywhere, the couch, behind chairs, the kitchen, the porch, everywhere. The remote is nowhere. If you've seen it could you please return it. Thank you.
Okay, it is now an hour later. I jsut vaccuumed the entire house. No remote. So I climbed under the tree, unplugged averything and plugged it back into the wall. I miss my remote. Too much bending. But I have faith. It will resurface.

Break Time!

Here's the thing, my daughter Rebekah and her little family are here visiting from Colorado. I am so excited I can hardly stand myself. And my daughter Emily is home from college and I gave Adam a few extra days off from fifth grade so he can hang with his sisters who he rarely sees anymore and his two little nephews, Lemmy and Cedar. It was such a blast to be with them yesterday. The babies and their parents are beautiful. What fun to have little ones in the house again. Christmas morning will be a blast. So, in the interest of family I am taking some time off to devote to my kids and grandkids. Now I'm not saying I might not check in or go on Facebook from time to time but I am going to make an effort to simply be--well all Christmasy, motherly and Grammie-like.
I want to wish all of you a very Merry Christmas. I hope your days are filled with love and joy and cookies and great food and most importantly family.
I want to thank everyone who joined in on the great Agnes Sparrow Kindle Giveaway. From what I hear it was a tremendous success. And I also want to thank everyone who has purchased and/or read Agnes this year. I hear it's been a tremendous success.
So to all of the fans of Bright's Pond I want to say Merry Christmas. Have a blast, eat pie and Soli Deo Gloria.

It's The Most Wonderful Idea of the Year

Here's the thing, FREE is good, especially when it comes to books. So, in honor of The Prayers of Agnes Sparrow being selected as a best book for 2009, Abingdon Press is offering it as a FREE, that's right, I said FREE, Kindle download all this week. You don't have to have a Kindle to download it. You can download it right to your PC. So, go on, download it and start reading Agnes today. Let me know if you do.

An Abingdon Press Christmas

With apologies to Clement Moore

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house
Not an editor was clicking, not even her mouse.
The edits were finished and attached with care
To a word document sent through the air.
The authors were nestled all snug in their beds
While visions of six-figure advances danced in their heads.
And Barbara in her cubicle and Tammy in her own
Had just settled their brains for a talk on the phone.
When out in the bookstores there arose such a clatter
Susan Salley went dashing to see what was the matter
Away to the store she road with Mark and Renee
For Santa had bought all our books on his way.
The authors were cheering as they reported that earnings
had gone through the roof. "Get the presses turning,"
Tammy said in the phone. And Meagan called Barbara
"It's better than Tiger Woods. It's better than Oprah."
The moon on the breast of the new risen numbers
Woke the writers from their snorey midlist slumbers
When what to my wondering eyes should appear
But a 98 Toyota with eight happy autheers.
With a gleeful driver so happy and smart
I knew in a moment it must be Barb Scott
More rapid than eagles her authors they came
She whistled and shouted and called them by name
Now Judy! Now Jennifer
Now Richard and Ariel
On Christa and Sandie
On Cynthia and Rita
To the top of the charts
To the top of the shelves
Now write away! Write away
Write away all!
As dry pages that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky
So up the best-seller list the authors they flew
With hearts full of stories and synopsis too.
And then in an email I saw the reviews,
Of each of the titles, my heart was amused
We all did so well, so good and so happy
This Christmas our books we'll all be wrapping
Barbara sprang to her keyboard, to her team gave a call
And near they all gathered like glitter on a disco ball
And I heard her exclaim as she left for vacation
"Good reviews to all, and to all a nice royalty statement."

The Christmas Prize Dart Board

Here's the thing, I've been doing some Christmas shopping this past week and I've actually been enjoying it this year. Most years I dread it. I think because I never really know what to give anyone. What I would love to give I can't afford and anything within reach seems stupid or redundant or not good enough or being as neurotic as I am, I worry that the givee will not like what I gave. But this year I am doing better. I lowered my expectations—of myself. I decided to try and not agonize over gifts. My children and Grandsons are easy to buy for. I mostly have trouble deciding what to give friends—people I adore but frankly, I don't have a clue. I mean I would love to give you a house in the mountains or a new car or tickets to Wicked but I can't. Last year I would have wandered through the stores with that same glassy-eyed, Christmas Zombie expression on my face as everyone else, hunting and pecking through things and wondering, would she like this? How about that? Oh, how much is that? Really? Uhm, too much and then go home and feel bad and sorry for myself because I am much too neurotic or picky and now I'm tired and frustrated. And with all the online retailers there are even more choices! Yikes. I am not a person who should have a wide selection of anything. But this year, this year I'm taking a different approach. I've devised a game I call the Christmas Prize Dart Board. Here's how it works. I made generic categories such as Books, Cooking, Sewing, Tools, Games, etc. and then I wrote the names of my friends on little slips of paper. Draw a name and then toss the dart, blind-folded so I am not tempted to agonize anymore than I have too and wherever the dart lands, in whichever sector, well that's the prize they receive. So Pammy? If you get a screwdriver this year, well you'll know why and Rebecca? If you receive a packet of Sharps and a spool of maroon thread, well you'll understand. I'm feeling no guilt this year. The Christmas Prize Dart Board. It's a very good idea.

O Christmas Tree

Here's the thing, I am apparently the best mom in the world. My son told me so just last night. And I want to go on record as saying that Adam is the best son in the world. He amazes me. But that's not really the point of this column. I actually thought it would be fun to invite you all into my home this Christmas and share in the festivities. We put our Christmas tree up the other day. Adam, he's eleven years old, chose the biggest, fattest tree on the lot and we hauled that sucker home and there she stands about four feet wide and nine feet tall. Okay, eight feet now, we had to cut some of the top off so it would fit in the living room. Adam LOVES Christmas--absolutely loves it. He would love it if I gave him lights and ornaments as gifts. I do. He would keep the house decorated all year long and wants to totally deck out the house in lights one year--kind of like Chevy Chase in National Lampoons Christmas Vacation. He wants our house to be visible from space. Which I suppose stands to reason since as many of you already know, Adam is an electronics genius. The boy can pretty much wire anything and builds robots and toys that move and spin and light up and play music even. It's like he's one with electricity and understands it the way, well the way a genius would. He also constructs fountains with lights and running water. Not sure why, but that's okay. As you can see in the picture, the tree isn't completely decorated yet, especially at the top, but I'll get it finished as soon as I can locate the rest of my ornaments. I seem to be missing a box or two.
Yesterday I stuck a note on the tree before I left for work. It read, "Hi Adam, would you please put the lights on remote control? Love Mommy." Sure enough I came home from school yesterday and there he was sitting on the couch with an ear to ear grin holding a little snowman shaped remote. My clever boy has put all the lights, indoor and outdoor on a remote so all I have to do is push a button and they pop on—not only that but he fixed it so we can have them twinkle, chase or blink as well. I always hated bending down to plug in the tree everyday or rearrange plugs or whatever. Now I just have to push one button. What a good boy.
Right now his biggest wish is for me to buy him one of those giant inflatable snowmen. Yikes. They cost forty or fifty dollars. But I know he would just love it. So, here's the thing, should I do it? Should I buy him the snowman? After all I am the best mom in the world? Just not the richest.

SNEAK PEAK!

Here's the thing, this is the final cover design for my new novel, Charlotte Figg Takes Over Paradise--A Novel of Bright's Pond. Isn't it pretty? Props once again to Abingdon for their genuisness and all around good taste. At first I didn't appreciate the Jetson's trailer but now I think it works quite excellently. Next up, the editing of the new book--a process that I enjoy and am looking forward too. My editor, the fabulous Barabra Scott has one of the sharpest eyes in the industry. So, you could always plan now to read Charlotte next Fall. She's hoot and you'll be meeting some of your old friends from Bright's Pond. So what do you think?

In Cognito

On my way to Hagerstown Book Signing.


My friend in disguise also.

Agnes Sparrow named one of the top five

I am honored to be included among this group of authors.

Who Do I Talk To? A Yada Yada House of Hope Novel, Neta Jackson, Thomas Nelson

A Flickering Light, Jane A. Kirkpatrick, WaterBrook

The Missing, Beverly Lewis, Bethany House

The Prayers of Agnes Sparrow, Joyce Magnin, Abingdon

The Returning, Ann Tatlock, Bethany House

Congratulations everyone!