They say that good writers begin as good readers. I like to read and I do quite a lot of it. However, I have hangups in my reading.
I'm that person who goes to a restaurant and orders the same thing every time. I'm a creature of habit. I like certain genres and favor particular authors at the exclusion of others.
In an attempt to diversify my reading repertoire, I will be reading through the alphabet. No, not my A,B,Cs. I'm past that point.
In this case, each letter will represent a genre or theme. Some I will love and be completely familiar with, others will be a challenge.
I'm going to give everything a fair chance and see what I can learn along the way.
None of my posts will contain affiliate links or purchase links. It's not about that.
This is about the act of reading. This series will enable me to stretch myself and discover more about my style and identity as an author as I explore the methods and voice of other writers.
Join me as I work my way through the alphabet.
Up first, "A is for Amish Fiction".
I've chosen my book and I'll begin reading soon. Once I complete it, we'll get this series started.
In the meantime, is this a genre you enjoy?
If so, who is your favorite Amish Fiction author? Do you have a favorite book in this genre? Tell me about it in the comments.
In light of all the seeming injustice with WinePress, I have to share this.
Last Wednesday I was taking my son home from therapy (He has autism and does OT and speech weekly). On the way, a car passed me doing at least 70 on the main road through town where the speed limit is 55 mph. I'd had it.
I've spent this entire year (so far) watching people act illegally and get away with it. I wanted, no NEEDED, to see justice done. I began to pray out loud "God, I'm not sure if this is wrong to pray, but can you please send a police car right now? I need to see that you are watching. That you care. That you will give people what they deserve and that you are just. Please let me see it play out today and reassure me that you are watching."
I finish the prayer and the psycho driver turns off the road and I can no longer see if anything bad will become of him. Out loud I moan "Come on God! I asked. I needed this. Do you even care?"
Clear as day I hear him say "I don't give you what you deserve either. It's called Mercy."
OUCH! I say out loud "I'm not talking to you anymore" and I began to laugh.
My daughter (in the front seat) looks at me like I'm nuts. I guess she didn't hear God speaking to me.
I explained what he said and she cracked up at my reply. We laughed all day, but the message hit home. Justice is not our job it is his. I am so thankful that God has not given me what I deserve.
I have four kids. I often get asked how I was able to find the time to write and publish a novel.
Remember, the last two didn't exist during the writing process.
With two, it was a piece of cake. I'll tell you my trick.
It was summer in Michigan. I had a fenced in back yard to keep the kiddos contained and a comfy re-purposed lawn bench to sit on.
First, I went to Walmart and bought an old style turtle pool. Remember those? They were magic. I had one myself as a kid. They last more than one summer and they tolerate anything that weather and roughty kids can throw at them.
Second, I put the pool in the back yard and grabbed one of Grandma's old quilts and a few baby toys. I laid the quilt and toys inside the empty pool.
They played for hours.
Chloe played Mommy and Caibry just laid there staring at the blue summer sky and waving his crunchy bug toy with the crinkle wings.
When they got bored of the turtle toys and each other, I grabbed Caibry's Johny-Jump-it, hooked it to the tree branch and set the turtle's lid under his feet.
He bounced well after dark and I pushed on, pouring out my guts on the page until his little head finally dropped and he was sound asleep.
When Caibry was solidly asleep and Chloe had settled onto my lap, I called it a night. I packed up my notebook, the blanket, and my sleeping baby and carried it all inside.
I did this for a full summer and well into the fall.
When it was over, I had written a book.
Now, I have to say, I'm not sure this would have worked as well with Nevie and Sadie. They would likely have shimmied out of the turtle, climbed the fence and headed to the mall.
This is just more proof that God knows exactly what we need and when we need it.