Sunday, October 23, 2011

Her Own Prison



At last my dear friends, I return to my much neglected blog. Thank you for your patience while I have been rather indisposed of late. I've been sequestered in a prison of my own making and hardly seen the light of day, or so it seems.

My first priority was to finish my manuscript for my novella, Carving a Future (Barbour). This is the first story in the Colonial Courtships anthology featuring the four Ingersoll brothers in Glassenbury, CT, 1752.  Happy am I to say that I completed my task, or it would have been the gallows for me! 

My local writers conference occurred in the midst of this writing, though I had hoped to be done with my manuscript by then, I was not. The conference was a pleasant diversion, but it did require much of my time as I was one of the conference planners. I'll be posting soon on that wonderful day that I shared with two of my favorite authors, Susan Page Davis and Ruth Axtell Morren.

During this time, I've also submitted two synopses to my agent for potential inclusion in a series, and am very hopeful about these! We also communicated about my writing goals.  Did you ever notice how similar the word "goal" and "gaol", the old fashioned way of spelling jail are? There must be something to that, methinks.

At the end of this came the copy edits for my January release, The Shadow Catcher's Daughter (Heartsong Presents), and a request for description for the book cover. Now that is fun!

I am also beginning to write my next novel, A Design for Love, for Abingdon's Quilts of Love series. My story is set in Boston, MA, 1770. And though I keep myself in chains to my writing, it is where I want to be.


I promise, I really have been keeping out of trouble! Although, I've been trying to manage all this amidst headaches and an entrapped nerve in my neck and back.  I'll blame that on the stocks (pictured above at Colonial Williamsburg), they are a tad uncomfortable you know.

And thus is the work of an author, I am finding, not always comfortable, challenging me to my limits, it seems. But it is what I have chosen, and what God has chosen for me. So, lest you think I am complaining, I am not. I am ever so grateful to have the opportunity to enjoy, and endure, this life of mine that has changed and is changing me.






“Stone walls do not a prison make, nor iron bars a cage.”

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