Maureen Lang's Blog, page 19

Over the weekend the Hallmark Channel celebrated Lucille Ball's 100th birthday with an I Love Lucy marathon. I didn't catch many episodes, but the few I did reminded me how hilarious that show used to be. In one memorable installment from the season Ricky, Lucy and the Mertz' spent in Europe, Lucy begged Ricky for an outrageously expensive Paris-designer dress. Of course Ricky refuses. He's not quite as frugal as Fred Mertz, but he's unwilling to spend good money on what he believed to be ridiculous fashion. In fact, midway through the show, he and Fred are sitting at a street-side café and laughing at a woman walking by in a designer dress they're convinced looked like it had been made from potato sacks.

Which of course gives them the idea to take potato sacks to a nearby cleaner/tailor and have a "designer" dress created. Fred, always unwilling to spend any money but more than willing to get in on this prank, is happy to put out a few dollars. For hats they use an ice bucket for Ethel's and a feed sack for Lucy's. The dresses do look ridiculous, but not much more so than those sitting with the famed designer at this same café later.

The trick only worked, of course, because Ricky was able to finagle his way into obtaining name brand labels sewn into the phony dresses. When Lucy and Ethel donned that burlap, they were convinced they were dressing to the height of fashion. They strolled down the Paris street, happy to see others ogling them. It wasn't until Ricky confessed the prank that they felt the shame of wearing such ridiculous outfits.

So for them, everything was in the name—the designer name fraudulently sewn into the dresses they wore.

It made me wonder if such a phenomena could happen elsewhere. My husband said it would probably happen in sports, at least in baseball. If half the major-leaguers were forced to go anonymously back to the minors they would be indistinguishable from the other good players still waiting to be called up. Some players have been awarded high salaries in the major leagues, made a name on a relatively short list of successes, only to offer less than spectacularly consistent results on the field.

Such thoughts come as a warning to me. By no means do I consider myself as having "arrived" in the publishing business. I still hope every book I write will be better than the last, if I don't want to disappoint myself or my readers. And the fact is, there are definitely some authors whose quality rarely, if ever, seems to suffer. Why? Perhaps because they keep that "fire in the belly" to produce better and better work. They never take themselves too seriously—or their audience for granted. That's the kind of author I hope to be.

So with that in mind, I'm diving into revisions on my current project. Did I mention I'd turned in my most recent book? I had so much fun with it! But it's not "finished" yet. I have to admit I love the revision process. Once I receive my editor's input, I feel validated in so many ways. Sure, there are improvements to be made. But once those are in, I have so much more confidence in the story as a result of the input from other voices I trust and admire.

What's in a name? Sometimes too much, as in the designer dresses poor Lucy and Ethel wore. But for those in the arts trying to build a name—any of us, from writers to dressmakers—it's important to keep in mind those brand names are best built upon quality. Consistent quality keeps that brand valuable.

This week I'm joining my agent's blog tour with A Definitive Post About Author Marketing. To all of Rachelle Gardener's loyal blog readers, welcome to my slice of cyber-space!

Whether I'm meeting with fiction writers who are either more or less experienced than I am, discussions often roll around to marketing. Depending where I find myself on the spectrum, I'm either answering or asking the same questions: What kind of marketing tips do you have? What works for you? What doesn't?

It seems those from all levels of experience know intuitively that marketing is only as effective as the quality of the product behind it. So part of the answer always includes honing our craft, offering our audience, our readers, the best possible story so they'll want to buy more of our books.

For me the key to good marketing is thinking in terms of our readers. I've always considered myself a reader who's learned how to write what I feel like reading. That makes me familiar with what I want as a consumer. When I come across a book I've particularly enjoyed, I usually want to find out the following:

What else has this author written in the past?

When is their next book coming out?

Can I learn a little about this author?

I'm always pleased when I Google an author's name and I have a variety of options, showing a strong online presence. An attractive, easy to navigate, informative and friendly website is an absolute must. Presence on Facebook is also a plus. A blog, if the author has one, is interesting for a quick look but with limited time I might or might not read it regularly. But it's another window into a writer whose voice—or product—I already admire, so I'm apt to give it a chance.

As a reader it's natural to recommend a book if I liked it. If the author's book or website offers Discussion Questions, I might mention it to my book club, or to others who belong to a book club. I'm also apt to offer a review, at least on GoodReads. And if I take the time to write an email to the author letting her know how much I enjoyed her book, I always hope she'll send me a quick thank-you reply.

Since those are demands I expect answered as a reader, those are things I concentrate on fulfilling as a writer. The best use of my energy is spent maintaining a consistent, positive online presence such as through an active blog and an attractive website, keeping up on correspondence, and of course writing each and every day during the week so I have a product to offer that I can be proud of.

Things I rarely do: book signings, paper mailings (post cards or new release announcements), or teaching. I do send out a newsletter three or four times per year, mainly with a seasonal holiday greeting or a new book announcement. But with every newsletter, every blog posting, every update on Facebook (which, other than my blog linking there automatically, I also rarely do) I try to offer either something of value or interest. Frankly a glimpse into my everyday life would fail on any fascination scale, so offering something with a bit more of either interest or service is the goal.

In terms of marketing…think of your audience first, keeping in mind a consumer's expectation of the product you're producing. Be service-oriented, offering either entertainment or value in each online presentation.

My last word of advice on marketing: do what's fun for you, work it into your routine, and it won't be a burden.

Happy Marketing!

With much of the country experiencing record heat this week, my husband and I sat around on Sunday evening like the old fogies we've become and started comparing heat stroke stories. The first time I ever encountered such a thing was at a marching band competition a long, long time ago. I was there with my parents, watching my older brother march in the Drum and Bugle Corps. Those poor high school students wore full uniform—jackets, gloves, hats—in sweltering July heat. As spectators, we watched the perfect rows march by but soon the marchers began to look like ducks at a carnival game. Each row had at least one drop to the field, fainted from the heat. Of course this was about forty years ago, so I doubt they'd allow such a thing these days. At the very least, I doubt they'd require those heavy woolen uniforms on such a day!

My husband and I have both encountered a more personal taste of heat stroke. Both of us were in our early twenties, although we didn't know each other way back then. My husband was still living in the country, having grown up on a farm in Central Illinois. I was living in the Chicago suburbs at the time. Probably around the same year, while my husband was working his way through college with a summer job as a mason laborer for bricklayers, I took a trip to Hawaii. Can you already see where this story is headed?

I recall I was watching a show of hula dancers who seemed immune to an unusually hot day. My seat was in the direct sun and I was so heated I pulled my hair off of my neck (it used to be long in those days). I didn't realize the sun beating down on my neck wasn't a good idea. Soon I started to feel dizzy and nauseous so I sort of hobbled away from my spot in the bleachers. I must have looked a little unstable for so early in the day, because a resort team member met me and offered a comfortable spot in the shade along with some icy water. Things soon went back to normal although I couldn't really see the rest of the show very well. Ah, such a delicate flower, me.

While I was enduring all of that, so significant as to become indelible in my pool of memories, my husband was working in the Central Illinois July heat. The temperature was no doubt hotter than in Hawaii, and his job was to run buckets of mortar and 40 pound blocks of concrete between the supply area and the bricklayers — up and down the scaffolding. By mid-afternoon he felt dizzy and weak and drank probably a gallon of water only to sweat it out. At one point, with the slim hope of cooling off, he stuck his arms up to his elbows in the water they used to mix the mortar. But he made it through the entire day, a true test of stamina if ever I heard one.

That sort of sums up the history of our lives. My husband's is full of hard physical labor, while mine is . . . well, not. These days some of my hardest work is done staring out the window. Sometimes I see him outside mowing the lawn or working on some project or another, while I stay inside where it's cool and comfortable. I've longed suspected my husband is smarter than I am . . . and yet . . . here I am, inside on a day like this.

All this to say, find a cool spot, drink plenty of fluids, and keep the sun off your neck!

This week I'm pleased to introduce you to my friend Pam Hillman and her new book, Stealing Jake. Stealing Jake is being released through Tyndale's new e-book format — and is exciting news! It's a brand new format, something that is undoubtedly gaining popularity and is likely a sign of how the majority of books will be published in the future. That means more opportunity for all of us, writers and readers alike.

I can see why Pam has finaled or won so many writing contests. She certainly knows how to pique a reader's interest!

About Stealing Jake:

When Livy O'Brien spies a young boy jostling a man walking along the boardwalk, she recognizes the act for what it is. After all, she used to be known as Light-fingered Livy. But that was before she put her past behind her and moved to the growing town of Chestnut, Illinois, where she's helping to run an orphanage. Now she'll do almost anything to protect the street kids like herself.

Sheriff's deputy Jake Russell had no idea what he was in for when he ran into Livy--literally--while chasing down a pickpocket. With a rash of robberies and a growing number of street kids in town--as well as a loan on the family farm that needs to be paid off--Jake doesn't have time to pursue a girl. Still, he can't seem to get Livy out of his mind. He wants to get to know her better . . . but Livy isn't willing to trust any man, especially not a lawman.

About Pam Hillman:

Award-winning author Pam Hillman writes inspirational fiction set in the turbulent times of the American West and the Gilded Age. Her debut book, Stealing Jake, won the American Christian Fiction Writer's Genesis contest and was a finalist in Romance Writers of America's prestigious Golden Heart contest. She lives in Mississippi with her husband and family. Click here to visit Pam's website.

Click here to enter Pam's contest to win a free Kindle!


Click here to read the Prologue and First Chapter of Stealing Jake.


Click here to purchase Stealing Jake on Amazon for your e-reader.

Happy Reading!

So far, the summer of 2011 has been one of inconvenience. Breaking my ankle has put a serious crimp in enjoying the weather, outside activities, and just in general doing more. I'm still looking for the teachable moment, i.e. how God will use this as a positive. As someone on Facebook said, it may just be God's way of slowing me down for a while. It's certainly done that!

Then yesterday a rather intense storm came through, knocking out our power for nearly the entire day. I can't even remember the last time we lost power around here, so I shouldn't complain, particularly since I know there are thousands of customers still without. However… (there's always a follow-up complaint to a preamble like that, isn't there?) when you have a disabled child who depends on either television or computer games for entertainment the day can seem extremely long for him and everyone around him. Don't feel sorry for me — I tried to help out but our two-year-old in a sixteen-year-old body moves a lot faster than I do so I ended up mainly alerting my husband whenever he happened to try taking a break from the general chase. But needless to say, between that and the power outage I didn't make it to the computer until late yesterday and am only just now catching up.

As I was sitting around feeling just generally useless, one of the things I thought about was how many things we accomplish that have nothing to immediately show for it. Yet they're the kinds of things that either need or should be done. That definition is just muddled enough to need an example, isn't it? Here are several:

When I run errands, I expect to arrive home with something. But there are times that while I do accomplish my errands I can come home empty-handed. Like:

When I go to the Post Office, I drop off my packages but I don't come home with anything unless I stop by my P.O. Box.

Dropping off clothes at the dry cleaners, I come home empty-handed.

I'd add dropping off books at the library, however unless the library is closed and I'm only able to use the drop box, I usually cannot resist bringing something new home.

Things I accomplish by not doing something:

My favorite along this line is losing weight. It's such a long process, and while exercising or being more active does help with weight loss, the main thing for me is not to eat. I'm reminding myself of this more often these days, being stuck mainly on the couch waiting for my ankle to heal. I have to be vigilant about eating only at meals and not because I'm either bored or craving something when I'm not at all hungry.

Saving money is another thing we do by not doing something: don't spend money. (Something I think our government needs a lesson in, at least in reducing spending, but I digress.)

Healing a broken bone: just sitting around, resting/sleeping, waiting for the body to do things you don't even know it's doing (knitting the bone back together).

I'm sure there are a dozen more things that get done by not doing something, but these are the ones I thought of while off the power grid. Strange how the mind works when you're just sitting around without electricity, isn't it?

<!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Times; panose-1:2 0 5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin-top:0in; margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:10.0pt; margin-left:0in; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} -</style><span style="mso-bidi-;font-family:Times;font-size:130%;" >Not long ago I was thinking life was getting into that "uneventful" mode - you know, staying home too often, generally comfortable. Is life supposed to be comfortable all the time?</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:Times;font-size:130%;" >Well, our 4th of July holiday made me realize that's how I like it – comfortable and uneventful. I spent the bulk of the day in Urgent Care, not because of any firecracker mishap you might expect, but </span><span style="font-size:130%;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bH_frtXgrAc... style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 116px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bH_frtXgrAc..." alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626328648949859010" border="0" /></a></span><span style="mso-bidi-;font-family:Times;font-size:130%;" >because I fell and broke my ankle. As my husband likes to describe it, I fell from a one-inch ledge. Actually I was chasing our dog and my ankle rolled from the edge of a driveway on to the grass and down I went – snapping the fibula. Fortunately it's not a weight-bearing bone, so I'm expected to heal relatively quickly. The folks at the orthopedic office tell me if I can tolerate the pain I can start testing usage as soon as I like. Well, it's not quite 48 hours since the accident and this morning when I tried standing I broke out in a sweat and felt like throwing up, so I guess it's a bit soon. However, I still expect a full recovery sooner rather than later!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-;font-family:Times;font-size:130%;" > </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-;font-family:Times;font-size:130%;" >Of course by "full" recovery at my age I expect to turn into a weather vane and experience some ankle discomfort with each change in air pressure, but hey, at least I'll know how to dress for the weather.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-;font-family:Times;font-size:130%;" > </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-;font-family:Times;font-size:130%;" >This is the first time I'm grateful to have a wheelchair in the family. We have one for our Fragile X son, because part of his diagnosis is a connective tissue disorder which makes him tire easily. We take the chair along with us if we're expected to do a lot of shopping or to places like the zoo or anywhere extended walking is required. So now I'm wheeling around the house and he's watching me wondering why I'm having all the fun.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-;font-family:Times;font-size:130%;" > </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:Times;font-size:130%;" >Maneuvering the thing did take some getting used to, though – I quickly realized I'm better at </span><span style="font-size:130%;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TzyInsZEGT4... style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TzyInsZEGT4..." alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626328317080998978" border="0" /></a></span><span style="mso-bidi-;font-family:Times;font-size:130%;" >pushing than driving it. My husband explained it's like directing a bulldozer. Well, that was about as clear as mud – I somehow missed the fascination with running land equipment. But when he told me how the wheels of a bulldozer move, I was able to figure it out. Just out of curiosity, did you know there are an astounding number of bulldozer videos on YouTube that have thousands of views? I'd love to know how many of those viewers are girls.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-;font-family:Times;font-size:130%;" > </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-Times New Roman"font-family:";font-size:130%;" >Just after the accident, one of the first things I thought was how glad I was for the timing. I've just turned in my manuscript, so I won't have that added pressure. And my husband is home to help out, although reinforcements are on the way in the form of my sister. Yippee! My kitchen will once again be put in order. Let's just say my husband is kind of the mad-scientist type who is more concerned about the bigger picture – i.e. the kitchen is where food is found — but not the details — i.e. dishes in the sink or on the counter are minutia with which one need not be concerned.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-;font-family:Times;font-size:130%;" > </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-;font-family:Times;font-size:130%;" >So between the accident and the holiday, I wasn't able to get to the computer as often as I'd like, thus my late posting. Mainly I'm sitting on the couch with my foot elevated while catching up on some reading. I'm amazed how tired I've been, just sitting here, but the literature from the dr.'s office said that's normal. I guess a jolt to the system takes it out of us – so if this ever happens to you, be prepared!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-;font-family:Times;font-size:130%;" > </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-;font-family:Times;font-size:130%;" >I wanted to say in closing that although accidents are never, ever fun, an upside of it all is the many notes and prayers and well wishes I've received via email and on Facebook. God has a way of easing things, and it's almost always through the people He puts in our lives. So thank you!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-;font-family:Times;font-size:130%;" > </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com...' alt='' /></div>

So this Friday is the official deadline for my newest project, tentatively titled Bees in the Butterfly Garden. I'm happy to report I'll be turning in the "finished" product sometime this week, probably by Wednesday.

This book has been downright fun! It's the first project I've done in a while that hasn't revolved around a war or someone with a disability, so I can say with all sincerity that the tone is lighter. I must admit with the economy in its present state, worldwide concerns for the future, bloodshed and revolutions going on in so many places, I just needed an escape.

So I went back in time to 1882 New York and dreamed up a woman named Meg Davenport who discovers her father was a thief. Of course, she had no idea how he supported her expensive schooling all these years. After her mother died when Meg was very young, her father wanted her to be raised as a lady, and the exclusive school provided all the right rules.

But just when Meg is ready to graduate, all prim and proper since she's learned to control her wayward nature, her father dies. It's then she learns how he made his living, and decides to prove to herself and to those who knew him that she would have been a valuable asset to his work instead of being shuffled away.

Someone she's eager to prove herself to is her father's protégé, Ian Maguire. But Ian has loved Meg from afar ever since he first met her when they were children, and he knows the last thing her father wanted for her was to be involved in anything remotely illegal.

And so the two of them have opposing goals: hers to become a thief and his to prevent that very thing.

I think what I love most about writing are the discoveries along the way. Being a seat-of-the-pants writer, I begin with little more than a setting, a basic outline of the big goals, and what kind of character would best be challenged by those goals and obstacles in between.

I must admit there are times when my lack of more thorough planning can lead to some insecurities and frustration, and some wasted time as I explore possibilities. That did happen with this book, as it often has in the past. But perhaps it's because of those frustrations along the way that I feel so happy when things start to mesh, when the plot comes together as if it was there all along, I just had to find it.

With my next project, which I'm already beginning to ponder, I'm going to experiment with a bit more upfront exploration. I'll be consulting a book called The Moral Premise by Stanley D. Williams, who is expected to teach a workshop at the ACFW conference I'll be attending in September. On one hand I'm excited to try something new, but on the other I'm just a little bit afraid to try fixing something that's not broken. At this point I can't really explain how the approach will be new to me, or differ from what I've done in the past. It's too new to me to know just yet. But the idea of defining my character's psychological predicament — not only the physical aspect of obstacles, but the psychological, spiritual and emotional angles — sounds fascinating to me.

I'll keep you posted!

This week I'm happy to bring you news about the second book in the Hanover Falls series by my friend Deb Raney!


FOREVER AFTER by Deborah Raney
Forever After is the second book in Deborah Raney's Hanover Falls Novels series from Howard/Simon & Schuster. The first novel in the series, Almost Forever, won the Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence and a HOLT Medallion Award of Merit. Synopsis: Lucas Vermontez was a proud firefighter like his father. Now, not only has he lost his father and his best friend, Zach, in the fire at the Grove Street Homeless Shelter, but the devoted rookie can no longer do the work he loves after being crippled in the tragic event. When friendship with his buddy's beautiful widow turns into more, he wonders what he could possibly offer Jenna. Jenna Morgan is trying to grieve her husband's death like a proper widow, but the truth is, she never really loved Zach. His death feels more like a relief to her. But that relief is short-lived when she loses her home and the financial support of her in-laws. Now the secrets of her past threaten to destroy her future. Almost Forever, Book 1 in the Hanover Falls Novels series, won the Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence in 2011.


DEBORAH RANEY's first novel, A Vow to Cherish, inspired the World Wide Pictures film of the same title and launched her writing career after 20 happy years as a stay-at-home mom. Her books have won numerous awards including the RITA, National Readers Choice Award, HOLT Medallion, the Carol Award, and have twice been Christy Award finalists. Deb also serves on the Advisory Board of the 2500-member American Christian Fiction Writers. Her 20th novel released this month from Howard/Simon & Schuster. She and her husband, Ken Raney, enjoy tending wildflowers and native grasses in the Kansas prairie garden in their large back yard. They also love traveling together to conferences, and to visit four children and three little grandsons who all live much too far away.

Spring and summer are seasons of renewal, months to take delight in the reborn flowers and trees—to enjoy life after winter's dormancy. So why in the world am I writing about dumpsters?

Well, one showed up on the driveway at an older home in my neighborhood. It's amazing how the sight of it ignited such an immediate feeling of pain and loss—because I knew immediately the dumpster wasn't there because of something fun like a major remodeling. I'll tell you why in a moment, but first I must confess this is not my finest hour as a neighbor, at least as far as knowing my neighbors. While I don't think it's a good idea to be a Gladys Kravitz,* always snooping, I do think it would be nice to be part of a community where at least we know each other's names, or if one of us passes away.

My office is located in the front part of my house, so if I have the blinds open I can see people walking by. In the dozen or more years I've lived here, I would often see an older woman walking her two little dogs. She wouldn't go far, just up then down the block. If I happened to be outside I would wave or say hello, but that was about it. The extent of my knowledge about her is that she said hello with a German accent and one of the dogs was appropriately named "Fritzie." It looked to me like a cross between a miniature pinscher and a dachshund.

In the last few years there would occasionally be weeks where her husband would walk the dogs instead. Eventually, though, she would return and for months or longer she would once again be the one taking the dogs out for their daily constitutional.

But in the last year or so, I haven't seen her. After several months went by, seeing only her husband walking first both dogs then, sadly, only one, I assumed she had passed away.

My first thought at seeing the dumpster in the driveway was to wonder if her husband, too, had gone on to eternity. I'm happy to say that although he doesn't walk the dog any more, I did see him even after the dumpster appeared. And someone, his son perhaps, someone who is at least a generation younger, has walked little Fritzie a couple of times lately. This younger man has been staying there and filling that dumpster. (This is my best effort at Gladys-like observation.)

All in the effort to share how the whole episode reminded me sharply of the dumpster that was delivered, filled, then carted away from the home my parents lived in for many years. Years of accumulated . . . stuff . . . ended up in the trash, after my siblings and I claimed what we wanted to keep.

So as I imagined what was going on in that house down the block, sifting through memories and decay, it reminded me once again to look at the stuff I'm accumulating in my own house with an eye on where it's all going to end up.

Okay, this is the last posting I'm going to do about death for a while. Because even though I heartily believe that death has lost its sting for those who have trusted in the incredible grace Christ provides, I still recognize its permanence. I may look forward to being reunited with loved ones someday, but this time of separation is still hard enough not to want to dwell on it . . . at least not for more than two blog posts.

So chin up and don't be afraid to visit next week!

*If you don't know who Gladys Kravitz is, you've missed one of the silliest and unlikeliest classic t.v. shows ever created – Bewitched.

This week I'm pleased to bring you information about the Chiril Chronicles, a YA fantasy series by Donita K. Paul (author of the popular DragonSpell and DragonLight books).

The Dragons of Chiril, the second book in the series, is a re-release of The Vanishing Sculpture (see information below for more detail).

Here's a note from Donita about her books:

The heroine in the first two books of the Chiril Chronicles is Tipper Schope. In her early twenties, she has been in charge of a massive household for the many years following her father's disappearance. In her mind, she has not done a great job. At the time of the first scene, she has been reduced to selling her noted father's artwork in order to pay the bills. Her home is a deteriorating mansion. They have two servants left from the full staff. Her mother's mental health and stability has broken down. The failure of the mansion has caused hardship among those who depended on her father and this establishment. Tipper feels the weight of all the responsibility.


I see strong women face two types of situations: those they chose and those that are thrust upon them. I know a young lady who worked hard to put herself through college to become an RN. She showed tremendous strength and determination to meet her goal, one she had chosen herself. But this same young lady had an abusive parent, an alcoholic spouse, and a relative with a debilitating disease. Obviously these burdens were not ones she chose. With each new obstacle that came her way, she continued on the path she knew God had ordained. And not only that, but she remained a cheerful, optimistic person. As a great mom, she has drilled into her kids, "Attitude is everything."


The character in Dragons of Chiril is also challenged by adversity. Unfortunately, three of the statues she sold to acquire money for expenses, turned out to be the cornerstone of the world she lives in. With the statues separated, the countryside has bizarre eruptions that destroy property and life.

As in real life, with each new challenge, Tipper grows to meet the difficulty. That stretching to do the next thing, the thing we think is just beyond our ability, makes us grow stronger. Tipper's character deepens as she handles what I (the author) throw at her. And she also gains a perspective of herself that eliminates the false guilt. I think false guilt weighs us down more than the reality we face. Tipper does reach a happy ending, but the reader is aware that it is not happily ever after, because the road we travel will not smooth out and be bump-free until we reach Heaven. That's okay. We have the hope!"--Donita K Paul


Join Tipper and her ragtag band of adventurers including Beccaroon, a giant parrot; Bealomondore, an aristocratic young artist; a handsome dragonkeeper prince; the Wizard Fenworth; and the tumanhofer librarian Librettowit. Together they travel through valleys and kingdoms and consort with purveyors of good and agents of evil to find and reunite the missing statues. Will they learn to rely on Wulder's grace and guidance along the way?


Dragons of the Valley is the first book in the Chiril Chronicle series (2010)

The Vanishing Sculpture (pictured left) is the old title for The Dragons of Chiril, and is the second book in the series (June/2011)

Dragons of the Watch will be the last book in this series, which comes out in October/2011

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