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June 25. Dear writer and reader friends, I simply must share an incredible book and an incredible story. Add to your reading list The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, started by Mary Ann Shaffer, finished by her niece, Annie Barrows, when Mary Ann became too ill to finish her work.

Poor Annie was saddled with the enormous responsibility of finishing her aunt's first (and sadly, her last) novel. Struggling to capture Aunt Mary Ann's voice, Annie recalled the hours of storytelling with her aunt as they sprawled around the kitchen table, and Aunt's voice flowed into her brain as if Aunt were sitting in the room speaking.

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society took me (by boat, of course) to post WWII days on a tiny English island and is written through the device of postal letters, telegrams, tattered notes. Mary Ann/Annie's sassy yet sensitive voice permeated my skeptical writer's crust and flowed through my body to release laughs, cries, guffaws, sobs. Enjoy a great summer (or fall or winter or spring) read and gift this book to relatives and friends!

June 20. I longed to spend the day with a fascinating and fun-loving seventy-nine-year-old--my mom! We plotted to rendezvous at a point between Normal, Illinois, my home, and Green Lake, Wisconsin, Mom's summer home. Fort Atkinson, with its river walk, dinner theater, and easy access, proved to be the perfect graph point!

At a riverside cafe, we toasted Mom's years of good living. Puffy clouds drifted overhead and canoers pulled in their oars to let sparkling water carry them downstream. It was easy to let the day carry us away in good talk and short walks. After our meal, we shopped at two boutiques. I bought sheep motif sachets for the Irishwoman; we both snagged tubes of lip gloss that the manufacturer assured us would change our life.

"I didn't see any books. Did you?" Mom asked after we explored the last nook of the final store. "And I forgot to bring one."

A Qualls forgetting a book? Practically an unpardonable crime. 

"Is there a bookstore around?" I asked the sales clerk. Memory does strange things. And I'll forgive you. After all, it is your birthday.

The clerk looked up from her paperwork. "The Velveteen Rabbit. It's mainly for children, but they've got other stuff."

Mom and I nodded. A bookstore's a bookstore, especially in emergency situations. We got directions. As fast as her bum knee would allow, we carried on, ticking off the landmarks. The bridge. One block. Another. The Irish pub. 

A lovely garden bordered a Victorian cottage's creamy pink walls. White columns supported a front porch perfectly furnished for lazy afternoon reads. My pulse hammered as I strode toward the door. Read the sign. Blinked at the black-and-white reality that the The Velveteen Rabbit had retired to its hutch. Yet the smell of paper and glue drew me closer, closer, and I peeked through the front door window.

A woman, her head buried in what looked like a ledger, stood behind a counter lined with cards and displayed books. 

I squinted hard to read a poster about an upcoming signing--for mothers and daughters. Just like us! I balled up my fist, moved it toward the door--

"Is it closed?"

A sigh escaped me. My hand fell to my side. "Uh-huh." With a huff I turned to face Mom. "If only we'd come here first..."

"Oh, well." She gave a smile Southern mamas learn at birth, then try to teach their daughters. Only this poor mama had been given a very slow learner in the "make nice, act happy" department. "Things can't be perfect." 

But they should be. On Mom's birthday. I trudged down the porch steps, tried but failed to match her smile.

"And just look at those lovely little pink things." She pointed past some hostas in the flower bed. "What are they called?"

I shrugged. "You're the one that knows every bloom God made. Remember those azaleas we used to have?"

"Oh, yes. And I built that brick wall around them, remember? And..." She nodded and smiled, a deep one that touched her eyes. She's always been so easy to please, so quick to forget what she loves to call "the small stuff."

We traced what must've been a bunny path about the manicured flowered beds. Mom chatted about hydrangas and peonies, but I kept an eye on that front door. Maybe, just maybe, things could be perfect. Maybe...

The door opened. A woman walked onto the porch. Such a lovely porch, with those comfortable chairs fit for reading and chatting and...Images of a mother holding a little girl in her lap seized my brain and wouldn't let go until I commanded my legs to jog, jog, right up those stairs.

"My mother and I are visiting," I blurted out, "and she's forgotten to pack a book. And it's her 79th birthday, and we were wondering..."

The woman paused, smiled, just enough to make me step closer.

"We'll definitely buy something. Maybe two or three somethings."

"Of course. I'm happy to do it."

The door was unlocked. Opened. We stepped into a wonderland of painted signs and posted reviews and categorized volumes. I picked up one book, another, another. Read the back cover copy. Flew to China, to Guernsey...

A hand touched my shoulder. My pulse skittered out of control as I whirled about. It was only Mom, not a German soldier. My breathing slowed as the smile returned. Where but in a bookstore could you hold Guernsey in one hand, China in the other?

"We need to let this nice lady go."

I nodded and walked with Mom to the counter, wanting to find out this nice lady's name. Where had our Southern manners gone? 

"I'm Patti. Sorry I forgot to introduce myself."

"Hi. I'm Marie."  

"This is my mother Ann."

We talked about Marie's gorgeous red hair, of Ireland, of books, of authors, of signings. Our voices mingled with all the whispers from the shelves of books. Read me. So glad you came. Oh, it was the most wonderful cacophony of sound!

Our purchases in hand, we finally said good-bye to Marie, left the Velveteen Rabbit, returned to our hotel, and settled on matching queen beds. I watched Mom run her hand over the cover of her new mystery, gently open the book, smile, sigh, and settle in before I did exactly the same. A warmth hovered over the room like a cloud and pulled us tight, then let each of us drift, Mother into a quilting bee, me into the Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society. And for a seventy-ninth birthday party, it was the perfect place to be.   

Thanks to Marie of The Velveteen Rabbit in Fort Atkinson, Wisconsin, for understanding about mothers and daughters and books. Visit www.velveteenrabbitbookshop.com!

 
June 16. Liam Lawton's poignant folk songs carried the McLean County Genealogical Society to "Another World:" one with green cliffs and mystical clouds. A crowd of intent listeners inspired me to share Mary's story and God's gift of that wonderful trip to County Clare. The rarified air of the historic old courthouse added to the atmosphere. 'Twas a delightful eventime for all. Special thanks to Eleanore for her generosity and kindness, and Glen and Susan, an unforgettable couple with quite a story of their own. Glen, a visually handicapped gentleman, shared his first memory: lying near his parents' bed, hearing their happy chatter fill the room. A typical childhood recollection? Perhaps. But Glen's parents were killed shortly afterward when a train struck their car. Only by a last-minute maneuver of God did Glen avoid being in the car... 

June 14. Two of my passions, teaching and writing, united on a bustling night at our local Bloomington Barnes & Noble store. Oh, the beauty of five heads ducked over sheets of paper, wrists cocked, fingers gripping pencils! Words emerging onto what was once a blank void. Does everyone love those sights, or only a former English teacher?

Thanks, Ashley and Brooke and Carley and Chase and William for sharing a bit of your summer with me. Thanks, Barnes & Noble, for setting aside a corner of your store and for serving those warm, chewy cookies and great drinks!   

June 12. Central Illinoisans greeted yesterday's exciting news with horn honks, sidewalk dances, and shouts of "Praise God!" Berean Bookstore will reopen stores in Peoria, Decatur...and BLOOMINGTON-NORMAL!!! Stay tuned for specifics about a GRAND OPENING celebration. (Hint: I'll see you THERE!!!)

Writers, take advantage of an opportunity to work one on one with published authors at the Green Lake Christian Writers Conference. The green waters of Wisconsin's deepest natural lake will inspire you, and the comaraderie will soothe your writer's soul. See you there! Read all about it at: http://www.glcc.org/glcc/files/conferences/Christian%20Writers%20Conference%202009.pdf

June 11. Yesterday I tossed my briefcase and a box of books into my car and set out for Barclay Public Library in Warrensburg, Illinois, a town of around 1,500. A steady rain made driving tough, the morning chill shivered my insides, and my mind headed back to lazy mornings on Louisiana porches. At times like this, how I miss the South! Yet I drove on, the commitment I'd made keeping me from U-turning back to Normal (or New Orleans!)

As I pulled onto Main Street, the sun peeked through a curtain of gray and drove away the chill in my body and heart. I was here to promote books, to tell my story. Surely someone would come. Surely someone would listen. Wouldn't they?

"You must be Patti. Come on in." Jody Long, orchestrator of this Coffee Chat, ushered me into a room made festive with green tableware and flowers and a copy of my book and delicious pastries and...the smell of fresh coffee! Three score of lovely ladies of all shapes and ages streamed into the room. Redheads, blondes, brunettes, grayheads, and everything in between. Irish and German and farmers and homemakers and teachers. Lovers of fiction and nonfiction and everything in between.

The day blurred into one glorious image of first memories and smiles and book sales and tears and Jamey Johnson's music and signings and volunteer efforts and teenagers reading (really reading), and a scrumptious potluck and writer/reader chat and secrets and prayers and goodbyes. Barclay truly gifted me a time to tuck away and pull out when the world caves in and no one seems to care about all those characters who inhabit my mind.

Wherever you are today and whatever bad news you've just blogged about or read about or seen in living color, rest in the fact that community is happening in Warrensburg, Illinois. Town of around 1,500 people. And at least thirty of them are living, really living. Now, how about you?

       
June 8. Say hello to my Bloomington-Normal book discussion group. What fun we had on Monday, chatting books in a home that somehow manages to bring the outdoors inside yet wears museum quality art like comfortable clothes. I'm so blessed to be a member of this group that includes women who seize every day to make a difference. Thanks for the great food, great fellowship, and great discussion on Coal Tattoo (which I devoured).

June 7. This weekend God connected me with two lovely ladies who spanned seas and secrets to bring China close with their incredible stories and pictures of growing up a diverse and exotic world. Oh, how my fingers are itchin' to capture these new images on paper.

Tang Li, Darla, and Lily have crowded into my brain and shoved Mary and Sally and Sheba out of the way. I've opened the word bank account for Book Four, along with a savings account for a round-trip ticket to...yep! Beijing! May God open those doors. And may my hubby grant his blessing for this trip with my Chinese sister, Wang Xiu.   

June 1. While I didn't win a medal in Foreword Magazine's Book of the Year contest, the next best thing happened: two of my writer soulmates did! Congratulations, Melanie Dobson (The Black Cloister) and Tosca Lee (Havah)! I'm happy to have had my name on the finalist list and THRILLED for both of y'all!

May 27. Occasionally God provides especially scrumptious manna in the form of reader letters. Here's one that came yesterday:

Just finished reading your book What the Bayou Saw this morning.  It's a great book and it reminded me so much of a quote I recently read by Ernest Hemingway, that I liked and thought you might enjoy.  

 "....when you read something by me you actually experience the thing.  You can't do this without putting in the bad and the ugly as well as what is beautiful.  Because if it is all beautiful you can't believe in it.  Things aren't that way." 

I really appreciated the realism of your book; you didn't shy away from harsh realities and raw feelings and yet showed how God can bring good out of evil.  I liked that you never gave any "pat" answers to the question of why God allows evil either.

Thank You, Lord, for this reader who took the time to write.  

Dear readers and writers, encouragers like YOU play such a critical role in my life. I'm so grateful for each reader that takes the time to write to me. You might be surprised how few accolades writers actually get! 

If you want to provide manna to favorite authors, send encouraging e-mails. Ask local bookstores to shortlist their books, which you should buy if you can afford them. If not, liberally use your library card and ask the librarian to schedule your favorite authors for signings and/or talks. Well-fed authors write better, last longer, and aren't nearly so grumpy to their families (??!!)   
 
May 25. I love trains. I love plotting new stories. I love family. At 7:00 a.m. on May 27, three loves shall collide, and my own life may become fodder for a book. I'll be heading north on Amtrak to visit a German nephew I haven't seen in twelve years, my Swiss brother, my daughter and her fiance, and Mom and her best friend. 

Age span? Roughly thirteen to eighty. Interests range? The Art Institute to Hard Rock Cafe.

Send prayers for good fellowship--and good weather--our way. Surely a German teenager will want to scale the Hancock Building and view the city night lights from Navy Pier ferris wheel. Won't he?   

May 20. I'd raised the patio umbrella. Brewed tea. Steeped coffee in my fancy press. Carefully arranged sugar cutout cookies, rugelach, Hershey's kisses, and tiny crescent rolls on one of Mother's hand-painted Bavarian china plates. Eyes blurry from editing cleared. I bustled about, tea napkins and teacups in hand. Helen and Maurren slipped in, adding Irish energy and Scandinavian class to the house. Oh, how I loved these intimate little teas!

"Sarah's getting married." The words spillled out of me as soon as we'd settled in the patio chairs. 

"Oh, tell me everything." Helen's cheeks glowed as if she were the bride. She leaned across the table, cocking her head so her better ear faced me. Cornflower blue eyes captured mine. My spirit soared like the monarch who'd fluttered by, just to say hello.

I talked, Maureen knitted. Helen showed pictures. Maureen talked. I inhaled treats, slurped coffee because I could with these friends. Birdsong filled the air, as did an ever-so-slight whoosh of wind. The Spirit? Most definitely; he'd been with me all day.

Chairs rocked. Shoes came off. We were home here. Together.  

Conversation--and the mood--rose and plummeted as it often does when soulmates gather. We disscussed a recent betrayal. A new dog. Helen's upcoming eye treatment, which just might change those stunningly blue eyes to brown. We laughed. Smiled. Let tears enter our eyes and didn't bother to wipe them away. Not us.

Doors opened. Closed. The sharp talons of time swooped in and yanked off the precious cloak we'd wrapped about the patio. Maureen rose. Gave her Irish hug.

"I was reading your book last night." Helen set a folded sheet of paper on the table, which was cluttered with the remains of our feast. "Got up to Page 75." The sun had cast a shadow on her nearly flawless pale skin, and she looked away, as if seeing someone among the bushes that border our property line.

"There was a song," Helen whispered. "I sang it when I was a little girl." The paper edged toward me. 

Maureen froze, bag in hand. All the sweets I'd eaten coagulated in a candy rock between my throat and my gut. What had so paled the fine Swedish skin?

My eyes dipped to the page.

Lilac trees are bloomin' in the corner by the gate.
Mammy's sittin' by the cabin door.
Curly-headed pickaninny comin' home so late
Cryin' like his little heart am sore.
All the chillins playin' 'round with skin so white and fair
And none of them with him will ever play
Mammy in her shack takes him in her lap
And tells him in her own sweet way...

"Now Honey, stay in your own back yard.
Don't mind what them white chiles do.
Nobody would ever want to play
With a black little coon like you.
Just stay on this side of that high-board fence
And Honey, don't cry so hard.
Go out and play as much as you please
But stay in your own back yard."

I swallowed once, twice. Tried to talk. Questions fluttered about as that Monarch had. But I couldn't say a word.
And where had those birds gone, with their chirpy spring tidings? Where? Where!

"We sang it." If she'd whispered before, now her words were gossamer trails in the air. "And last night, when I stopped reading your book, I...I couldn't sleep." She picked up the paper, folded it, opened it, folded it. "I had to write it down."

"Oh, Helen," I cried. "Who all sang it? Why? When?"

"I'll try." She moistened her lips. "Lilac trees are bloomin'..." 

Though Helen had misunderstood my questions, I let the sweet quavery voice fill the void left by the vanished birds, the hovering questions, let my love for her honesty and bravery swell my heart. Oh, God, thank you. THANK YOU. This is why I write. And God? God! Don't ever let me forget it.

Author's note: After quite a Google, I found similar lyrics under the title of "Stay in Your Own Back Yard," aka, "Mama's Little Alabama Coon," attributed to Lyn Udall/Karl Kennett, 1899.      

May 16. The Coffee Hound's cafes mocha and latte provided the perfect fuel for the day. Chanel, a literacy and personality and art and Christ soulmate, headed with me to WJBC, where we were greeted by Susan and Norma of "The Broad View" Saturday morning radio show. Oh, what a delightful time we had getting real about racism and friendship and trumpeting Jack & Jill of America, Inc., and our Bloomington/Normal Barnes & Noble store. Chanel claimed nerves but exuded peace and charisma for the listeners. Hey, Bloomington Normal and central Illinois! Check out the podcast of WJBC's (1230 AM) "The Broad View" show at http://www.wjbc.com to meet the lovely Chanel, Norma, Susan, and me. Here's the direct link: http://www.wjbc.com/Tabid/7997/default.aspx?AID=6009

Wanna know a secret, readers? Despite an impending bookstore appearance at 2:00, Chanel and I dashed into the Bloomington season opener of the Farmers' Market to check out the art, jewelry, and people! Those who know me best understand that I couldn't resist a magnificent photograph of our amazing Midwest landscape and came home with YET ANOTHER memory for my study wall. Check it out yourself at www.dep-artgallery.com. Thanks, Dylan!

Celebration! Community! Music! Barnes & Noble opened the doors wide to let in book trailer actresses and a violinist and a dancer, performing to Billie Holiday's "God Bless the Child" and Jack & Jill of America, Inc., Bloomington Normal chapter and patrons and bookies and parents and children and everything and everyone in between. Martin Luther King's "I Have a Dream" speech, delivered by five leaders of tomorrow, reminded all of us that the fight for freedom is still underway. Through these children, we heard from Gwendolyn Brooks, Illinois' great poet laureate, and learned about secret friends. The well-attended event concluded with book signings by four of the five actresses, and I managed to scrawl a personal note in dozens of books myself. HUGE HUGS to Michelle and the rest of the Barnes & Noble staff, Aaron, Alexis, Ashley, Austin, Carley, Chanel, Kayla, Jabril, Jaleelah, Monica, Sadiq, Shay, Sumayyah, Vicki, and all you dear supporters of Christian books. Most of all, thank you, Jesus, for blessing this day and for the amazing presence of your Holy Spirit.  
       
 

May 14. Thank you, Susan Gibberman, Susan Muira, and the Schaumburg Public Library staff for allowing this sometime-writer, sometime-teacher to facilitate a memoir class last night. Over twenty bustling bodies came out on a stormy Illinois night to teach ME a thing or two about collecting life memories. We sang songs, wrote, watched DVDs, wrote, talked, even shed a tear or two.

At the end of the program, I was able to share a short tribute to a "Normal" heroine, Marilyn Myers, who graciously gave her time to me last week and shared, over cups of green tea and coffee, her lovely memoirs. Here goes:

Oh, the places An Irishwoman's Tale has taken me—to musty old libraries, modern auditoriums, cozy dens where eccentric ladies gather to read books. At one such meeting, Marilyn Myers shared HER first memory—and the fact that she’d written personalized memoirs for each of her grandchildren! 

May 11. Has your life ever been reduced to, first, the contents in a rented U-Haul, then a locked six by twenty storage space? Saturday, I helped a Bible study friend and new believer, Debbie, move her belongings from a home where she'd been loved but a home she now had to leave. Craft items, clothes, toiletries, and a dog named Bear crowded her car as we caravaned to the storage facility after prayers for protection and Godspeed. At age 54 (same as me), Debbie is starting all...over...again. Oh, Lord, be with Debbie during this transition period. 

May 5. Hey, all you Mamas and Papas, Monday, Monday was sooooo good to me! Midwest sunshine and a practically blank calendar lured me out of the study. As if on automat, my car drove itself to Barnes & Noble, where compelling books, the aroma of cinnamon and sugar and roasted beans drew me into the cafe. Oh, what glory it was to bite into a still-warm oatmeal cookie and find the PERFECT Mother's Day book, Charles Martin's When Crickets Cry and the coolest little Graphique de France Post-It notes. Talk about a clean, well-lit place for this always reader, sometime writer to rest her weary bones! Today it's great to be in between novels, it's great to breathe deep, it's great...to be alive and know that God is in control! Thank You, Jesus.   

May 1. Our amazing God has opened up a wonderful house of hope. Alysha House, a refuge for women who are struggling to find a new way to live, begins operation on May 1. A buzzing group of ladies gathered in the freshly painted living room to hear Linda Winterland of Ministry & More outline ways to help with the ministry, which will offer love, Christ's truth, and options to its residents. Oh, friends, how I want to be used by God to facilitate a Bible study, stroll with the women, introduce them to Laura, my latest reads--be a friend who loveth AT ALL TIMES! To learn more about this ministry, visit: http://www.ministryandmore.com/director.php. 

Thanks, Cammie, for gathering together a new group of friends at Barnes & Noble coffee bar to chat up the Alysha House. Amy and Mary, it was such a pleasure to meet y'all! Denise, thanks for moving into the soulmate category with your recent encouragement. Michelle, thanks for your bright-eyed smile that's always soooo encouraging! Ah, it was a three-coffee day!

April 27. Last Wednesday, God introduced two new friends in a most unusual place: the jury box. Sunny personalities and caffeine addictions were enough of a link to draw me to Sam and Jo. An hour of deliberations over a man's freedom added respect to the character traits of these two women, a medical technician and a postal manager. I respected all eleven of my peers for their thoughtful insights and careful examination of the evidence, yet there was a tug of my heartstrings toward these two women that logic couldn't explain...  

Around 5:00 p.m., I wobbled to the courthouse parking garage. My husband had to help prepare supper, as the questions and prolonged sitting and rules of law and bailiff-supervised lunch sapped me as if I'd run a half-marathon. There's definitely a price to being on a jury!

A Friday morning check-in call nixed the notion that those who'd delivered one verdict wouldn't serve again. An appointment had to be canceled, overdue work shoved aside yet another day. I huffed into Coffee Hound, rewarding myself for such an indignity by getting a large latte rather than a small. Again I suffered claustrophobia in the court parking garage, got my badge, went through security, sloughed to the juror waiting room, checked in, slumped into my chair. Surely we wouldn't have to watch the film about how the system works...again.

"Patti!"

I sat up straight at the lilting tone. Smiled at the curly hair, the grin, what looked like a frappacino with double whipped cream gripped by Sam's hand. My new friend Sam had sought energy--and solace--in caffeine. Just like me!

"I can't believe they called us...again."

"It's because we were so good Wednesday."

"Yeah, right," came a voice from near the door. 

Sam and I turned. Gasped. There was Jo, a can of soda in hand instead of coffee. Boy, did we need to teach that girl a thing or two!

We discussed marriage. The law. Delilah's radio show. Rock music. A hundred topics in between. Sparks of friendship flew. Were ignited. Nearly an hour later, an attendant yet again sent us with our validated receipts to the parking garage. It seems our brilliant analytical minds were not needed on TGIF. 

Sam opened the door of her car, then turned and motioned me near.  "Hey, I've gotta CD you might wanna hear!"     

I galloped over, not really wanting to leave her bright eyes and lilting tone quite yet. Besides, I might find more music for my collection.

Liquid gold poured from car speakers and goose bumped my arms. It was "Le Nozze di Figaro," the very opera I'd played for my class. The number that mesmerized the inmates in "Shawshank Redemption!"

My eyes closed as I stood there in that ugly concrete structure and let the music flow over my tired body. God created new surprises at every dawn. Like Sam. And Jo. Look for them soon--in the pages of one of my novels!        

April 20, 2009. So proud of my mom, Ann Qualls, another real-life heroine! Yes, she did paint right through a bout with colon cancer--and people noticed her strength and beauty. Check her out right here:
http://www.tmfhs.org/TMFOpenbody.cfm?id=1415&fr=true

April 18 & 19, 2009. Southern Kentucky Bookfest. New writer friend Jill spotted Janis Ian, the tiny singer/songwriter just as we were leaving the Kentucky Museum's writers' reception. Ian's poignant hit "Seventeen" salved wounds from teenaged snobs, then inspired my Humanities 101 students over thirty years later! Both Jill and I ran on our 50+-year-old legs to thank Janis for her gift of such poetic song before we climbed on the shuttle bus and returned to the hotel. Like old friends, Jill, a psychotherapist who has a passion for young women struggling with self-esteem, and I chatted about weddings, the 60s, and books. Other blessings? I got to "talk Gaelic" with Ginny Smith and her husband and met two of the Bookfest's featured authors, Virginia deBerry and Donna Grant.  

Thank you, Lord, for sandwiching me between such wonderful writers as Ann Gabhart and Leisha Kelly at the book signing. The crowds were brisk, and I got to share Mary's story until my voice cracked. 

Another wonderful experience was meeting Elizabeth Emerson Hancock, a Harvard-educated attorney whose Trespassers Will be Baptized: The Unordained Memoir of a Preacher's Daughter was SOLD OUT! Elizabeth, a former Miss Massassachusetts sat only two seats away from me, and her sparkle definitely rubbed onto my shoulders! Now I know TWO former beauty queen writers, Tosca and Elizabeth. Their personality and loving spirits are every bit as charming as the rest of them! 

Did I mention that I got to buy Elizabeth's last book? It was soooo fun! Other purchases? OF COURSE Janis Ian's memor, Society's Child, and her double CD. Books on the shopping list (after budget recovers): Ann Gabhardt's The Outsider, DeBerry's and Grant's What Doesn't Kill You, Benson's Up Pops the Devil, the first book in Kelly's "Country Road Chronicles" series, and Smith's Age Before Beauty. 

Wow, Godstops happened left and right in a lovely Bosnian student named Anna, Wendy Mallory, mom, waitress, salon owner, and writer, Verde Restaurant, which served a meal that would've meet The Irishwoman's standards for its organic and local produce and scrumptious taste. Curry chicken and spinach pasta, Greek salad with thick chunks of feta cheese and tart olives...all consumed as we watched prom dates preen in their pastel dresses and suits in Bowling Green's historic downtown square. A feast of the eyes and palate...with Billie Holiday crooning through the restaurant's audio system. I never dreamed that Bowling Green would be such a charming, historic, literary, and romantic place!   

April 16, 2009. My loyal hubbie/chauffeur/companion is taking us to the Southern Kentucky Bookfest in Bowling Green, Kentucky on Saturday, April 18 at the Sloan Convention Center. Would love to see you there! Yes, I have chocolates!!! http://www.sokybookfest.org.

April 15, 2009. Make my day, Cammie, Patt, and Susan! My best writing friend accepted a last-minute invite and accompanied me to Schaumburg Public Library in lovely Schaumburg, Illinois. We surprised an ACFW friend, Susan Miura, who glittered and gleamed at the launch party of Missing, A Mysterious Gathering of Tales. I'm itching to read Susan's story, The Cotton Candy Man, in this anthology dedicated to missing persons (especially children), Oh, this was a brilliant event in a gem of a library--think public art, a coffee bar/restaurant, loads of seminars, a crime scene presentation by real-life hero writer/cops, and, of course shelves groaning with books! Cammie and I made it a celebration--of life--with a delightful dinner, Caribou Coffee, and the warmth that only soulmates like Susan, her lovely sister Patt, their amazing family, and a room of bookies can bring. Thank You, Lord, for safe travels--and cluing me in to the mysterious Chicago highway poll system. PTL, I didn't drive through a single one! BTW, find Susan's anthology in bookstores or www.amazon.com under Missing-Alessui. And enjoy!    

April 13, 2009. Last week I received word that the 40-year-old husband of a lovely Canadian writer named Sara Mills died of a massive heart attack. Poor Sara has been thrust into single parenthood and life without her soulmate!

To show support for Sara, a bunch of us ACFW members have purchased her novels, Miss Match, and Miss Fortune, the coolest-sounding mystery novels set in post World War II New York City. Please visit your favorite book store or website NOW to show solidarity for a Christian noir writer a la The Maltese Falcoln!

April 9, 2009. Robins chirp avian love songs. Daffodils poke their buttery heads out of rain-soaked beds. The morning sun blasts into my study hours before it did just a few months ago. Out on the farm, my best friend Mary had a little lamb. And here, in the midst of the season of life, the little lamb is no more.

God's will? Natural selection? Mary--and a frantic ewe--mourned the loss of this perfect little creature. "Why?" we can ask, all day, just as we ask when two young Central Illinois boys were recently murdered. Just as we ask when the mother of young children was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Whatever we may feel about God's role in death, He clearly teaches that it is an integral part of life--nay, an essential part of life.

Our precious Savior taught us that without His death on the cross, we could not live forever with Him. Our precious Savior taught that unless we die to our old selves, we cannot be born again.

In this crazy, mixed-up world of life and death and everything in between, take a moment this Easter season to savor the sacrifice Christ made on that old rugged cross so that we could die to self and live forever (forever, how sweet that sound) with Him!

April 1, 2009 . On April Fool's Day, I finished the third baby of my writing career, My Name is Sheba . This baby required a C-section to ensure a good delivery because of family illness, a debutante ball for An Irishwoman's Tale , and potty training for What the Bayou Saw . The baby is now at day care in the office of my agent, Cheri Kaufman, who is making sure she is ready to be "sent home." It truly has taken a village to raise my children, but I would like to single out Camy Tang for her keen insight yet encouraging words, the irreplaceable Camilla Quinn, an encourager of the supernatural kind, and my two men, who have pitched in to help here in the nursery. And thank you, dear readers! Your rain of manna has sustained me through some lonely pre-dawn writing mornings!

March 25, 2009 . Do you love spontaneous invitations? I sure do! In our over-scheduled lives, we often don't allow time for last-minute surprises. But they happen all the time at Tom's and Amy's house.

Several hours before I had a library appearance in Carlock, Illinois, my phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hey, this is Amy. We're gonna be at your thing tonight."

"Oh, great! That's really nice." Tom and Amy have these wonderful kids, Eddie, Ellie, Emily, and Lucy (whose stories will be a part of Recapturing Lily , my fourth novel.) Their family's just drunk on God and live with so much joy and victory that you just want to be around them. And with Amy's response, I knew at least six folks would be at my event.

"Hey, are you doing anything for dinner?"

A hum began in my heart. My son and husband had just made other plans. And I'd get to EAT in one of the area's truly classy country kitchens, overlooking a pond and some beautiful Illinois countryside. "No. Actually I'm not. That would be so great."

"And if you want to invite your friend that plays the music..."

Now a full-blown orchestra played. Maureen, the selfless hammered dulcimist who gives so lavishly of her time at my events, had snagged an invite. And we were riding together, so...it worked. "Yeah? I'll bet she'd love that."

"And then you can go to the thing and all. What time do you need to be there?"

We talked over a few details. Then Amy said, "Oh, and I've invited Rita and Dave and Mac and Martha..."

Yes, I danced an Irish jig, in MY kitchen, not country classy, but still fairly clean and kinda pretty, with sunlight suddenly streaming in. Amy had rounded up some of my favorite people from an old small group! This was a God moment! Somehow up here in Normal, Illinois, I've connected with my kind of people, who'd just as soon set the table for twelve as for six.

Thank you, Lord, for those unexpected blessings, which really help add music to ordinary days.

And thank you, Friends of the Carlock Library, for hosting an amazing event, complete with Irish scones and "real-live" china for our tea!

Illinois readers, if you haven't seen the Carlock Library, you need to head out NOW to this GEM of a facility. I've been in many literary establishments since the release of An Irishwoman's Tale and this library's children's section tops that in most designer bookstores! We're talking breathtaking murals, Saks Fifth Avenue type displays. And did I mention that with a Bloomington or Normal library card, you can CHECK OUT original artwork to enjoy in your home????

PLEASE run, don't walk to the Carlock Library at 202 East Washington, Carlock, Illinois. Here's their website: www.carlocklibrary.org. Happy reading!!

March 23, 2009 . Lovely Cynthia Ruchti, incoming president of American Christian Fiction Writers, has posted an interview with me on her blog, http://splashinginthedeepend.blogspot.com. Stop by and say hi to a radio broadcaster/writer with a passion to communicate God's word. I can't wait to turn the page of Cynthia's first novel, They Almost Always Come Home! Sends chills, doesn't it? Abingdon Press will release this book in Spring 2010.

March 17, 2009 . Happy Saint Patrick's Day! God sent lots of green-clad folks my way. The morning began with a soda bread and coffee discussion group in a lovely home of bookies! A tattered Irish map was unfurled and "the real Mary" introduced through my story and pictures. Next was teatime with the cheeriest group of women who live at Luther Oaks Retirement Village! 'Tis been since leprauchans roamed Ireland that such a sharp group o' lasses ha'e been found! One dear lady kept steering me to the questions at the back of the book! A former English teacher, of course!

" May God give you...for every storm a rainbow, for every tear a smile, for every care a promise and a blessing in each trial. For every problem life sends, a faithful friend to share, for every sigh a sweet song and an answer for each prayer." Irish proverb

March 14, 2009. Thanks to Michelle and our fabulous Bloomington-Normal Barnes & Noble for devoting an entire day to all things Irish! The McNulty Irish Dancers roused a hand-clapping crowd with colorful jigs and "ballets." Brian, Maureen, and Paul, hammered at their dulcimers to fill the store with music. Chanel and Monica and the Jack & Jill youngsters entertained with stories about leprauchans and St. Paddy and the greenest land in the world! And how could I have survived without Cammie shuttling soy lattes from the coffee bar? It was a day to celebrate community. I'm so proud to live in this town!

March 12, 2009.

Along with Havah (Tosca Lee), The Black Cloister (Melanie Dobson), Foreword Magazine has named An Irishwoman's Tale a fiction finalist in their 2008 Book of the Year contest. I'm so blesssed to be chosen with two wonderful writers--and friends. I'm a proud mama, but not like you may be thinking: I'm influencing both Tosca's and Melanie's books. Strangely, Havah and The Black Cloister finaled in the religious fiction category while my book is in the general category. Hey, I'm glad not to be in their league; know what I mean??

March 7, 2009, Book signing, Barnes & Noble Bookstore, 5129 Blanche D Moore Drive, Corpus Christi, Texas .

Santos Rios , store manager , and Ursula Rea , Customer Relations Manager , have mastered the art of creating community in this AMAZING bookstore! Readers, I've been blessed by appearances starting way up north at The Mall of America Barnes & Noble in Minnesota. Thanks to the willingness of B&N stores to allow a debut author access to their patrons, I have worked my way south on book signings, ending with this South Texas site. Oh, I have been in wonderful B&N stores, but Santos and Ursula should share their knack for hospitality with the entire chain!

When I walked into the store, Ursula sidled up to hubby and found out my favorite coffee drink--soy latte! By the time I was greeting my first readers, a steaming drink was by my side! The day was filled with love, hugs, memories--and lots of book sales!! Lacy family members, including my fabulous in-laws, Lena Mary and Clyde and Mark and Andrea, camped out in the coffee bar and managed to meet nearly everyone who stopped in. My favorite memory from a day of blessings?

Viola, a woman with a beautiful smile and soft eyes, strolled up to my table with her daughter.

"I just wanted to meet you and see your book." Viola picket up a copy of An Irishwoman's Tale .

"Oh, thanks!" I gushed. "You know, I used to live in Corpus. My dad taught out at the college."

"What did he teach? I was a student there...many years ago." Viola's eyes took on a faraway cast.

"Education. He directed student teachers. His name was Bucky Qualls."

"Dr. Qualls? Viola bounced up and down like a child. "He was my professor. Oh, he was tough on me but later I thanked him for it. He helped mold me into a teacher who could change kids."

God had brought one of my daddy's former students to this store! I struggled to speak at the awe of it all.

"And my commitment to teaching inspired my daughter." Viola gripped the arm of a lovely young woman. "She is now carrying on the tradition."

Thank you, Lord, for all of our teachers out there who are on the front lines of our future. Please check out Headline News to see WHY you are Heroes, as are Santos and Ursula , who have created a model for the gathering place that our communities so desperately need.

Readers, there are so many other things I could share, like the woman so intrigued by my tagline, " Spanning Seas and Secrets," that she shared her own amazing history and has planted seeds for a story re the life of a Hispanic woman who, with God's help and a mother's legacy, found her way in a new country.

If you live anywhere close to Corpus Christi, Texas , please find your way to this fabulous store! You will be so glad you did! P.S. It didn't hurt that Ursula left me with a bag of chocolates and a fabulous "readers'" mug. How did she know I loved chocolate??

March 6, Book signing, Barnes & Noble Bookstore, 12635 IH-10 West, San Antonio, Texas.

The diversity of San Antonio gathered on this delightfully cool evening at Barnes & Noble. I met such interesting people, particularly Beth, who has suffered with Lupus and chemotherapy treatments. Tonight Beth decided to venture out of her home. Though she touched at her hair and claimed she threw on a jacket, some pants, the white lace top enhanced her glowing skin. We joined each others' fan clubs and enjoyed comaraderie as if we were old friends. Yet another thanks to Barnes & Noble for all they do to create community and support writers! And thanks to my cousins, Diane and Larry Hatfield, their lovely daughter and grandson, for chauffeuring me around the lovely Alamo Heights district of this fascinating city. Lastly, I couldn't have done this appearance without the support of my husband Alan. Kisses, dear husband.

March 5, 2009, Spring Women's Gathering, White's Chapel United Methodist Church, 185 S. White's Chapel Blvd., Southlake, TX 76092.

Only our Lord could take such a dysfunctional person as me and plop me behind the podium in a room full of 208 lovely women! Darla, a primo florist and lovely woman of the Lord, designed Celtic planter centerpieces for each table. Guess Who's Coming to Dinner served a dried cranberry, peppered pecan baby greens salad, seared chicken with lemon caper wine sauce, wild & brown rice with almonds and golden raisins, steamed broccoli, and key lime pie AND/OR chocolate cheesecake. Oh, yes, it was every bit as tasty as it sounds!

This glorious banquet provided the perfect backdrop for an evening of fellowship. My Texas relatives, including my beloved Aunt Joan and cousins Laurie, Liz and her family, Kay coupled with my cute-as-a bug college roommate Cindy exerted considerable effort in busy schedules to attend this special gathering. Darla prepared keepsake name holders for each woman at my table. I haven't felt this special since I gave birth to my kids!

Vocalist Patti Sanders set a Celtic spirit in the place with her lovely rendition of "Turn, Turn, Turn" and Irish folk dancers livened up the place a bit. Then I had to get up and speak! Thanks to countless prayers (right on, ladies of Grace and Whites Chapel), God gave me "the peace that surpasses all understanding." And if the words bored or fell flat, the wonderful Whites Chapel technicians did a great job with my Power Point.

Yes, the evening was divine--but what surpassed all the fun was the emphasis by Reverend Judy Hunt on our DIVINE Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ! This evening was prayed over and through from beginning to end, and THAT is what really made it special!

I owe an incomparable debt to the many who navigated me about the Metroplex (Dar, Dianne, Nancy, and Gaye, and Pat), prayed me to the podium, and welcomed me with open arms! Bless all of you!!!

March 5, 2009, 11:00-1:00. Book signing, LifeWay Christian Store #4792, 924 N.E. Loop 820, Hurst, Texas. Patti Lacy will sign books and explore the secrets women keep and why they keep them in an interactive appearance. For more information, call (817) 590-4341.

Thanks to William, store manager, I held my first book signing in the LifeWay chain, which was cool since I just learned that What the Bayou Saw , my second novel, has been chosen by Li

BOOK SPOTLIGHT An Irishwoman's Tale A shattered cup. Cheap tea. Bitter voices asking what's to be done with the "little eejit." Mary, an impetuous Irishwoman, won't face the haunting memories--until her daughter's crisis propels her back to County Clare. There, in a rocky cliffside home, Mary learns from former neighbors why God tore her from Ireland forty-five years earlier. As she begins to glimpse His sovereign plan, Mary is finally able to bury a dysfunctional past and begin to heal. Irish folk songs and sayings add color to the narrative. Now available at many fine bookstore and websites, including this link to Amazon!  What the Bayou Saw: A Novel Segregation and a chain link fence separated twelve-year-old Sally Flowers from her best friend, Ella Ward. Yet a brutal assault bound them together. Forever. Thirty-eight years later, Sally, a middle-aged Midwestern instructor, dredges up childhood secrets long buried beneath the waters of a Louisiana bayou in order to help her student, who has also been raped. Fragments of spirituals, gospel songs, and images of a Katrina-ravaged New Orleans are woven into the story. Now available at many fine bookstore and websites, including this link to Amazon!

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