How Readers Can Help Writers

Ever wonder what you can do to help your favorite writer be successful? Doubt that anything you can do will make a difference? Hardly. Read this blog post:

http://www.jenjdanna.com/blog/2013/6/18/how-readers-can-help-authors-create-buzz.html

To You, From Me

I wanted to share a bit about why I wrote Grace's Pictures, and do it personally, so here's my message. Please share it with your friends!

watch on tyndale.com

When Father's Day Hurts

Father's Day did not become a national holiday in the U.S. until 1972. It's not that it wasn't suggested and even recognized before, it's probably because fathers didn't get behind it. Men, as we know, are not as sentimental about such things as women are.

But now you cannot watch television without being reminded to remember your father this Father's Day. And if you don't have one, or have a dysfunctional father-child relationship, you probably don't appreciate these reminders.

If my father were still alive this Father's Day, I would bring him licorice, bake him a chocolate cake, pour him a lemonade or a hot cup of tea. And we would talk about everything, and know that if only the world would operate the way we KNOW it should, all life's problems would be solved.

See what I mean? That's one example of not wanting to think about Father's Day and what you've lost. Of course, the best way to look at is to remember your dad and the good times, and be thankful.

But if your experience was unpleasant, that's another matter all together. In my novel Grace's Pictures, Grace McCaffery had an abusive father who used to tell her she was worthless, not smart, and just someone others wouldn't want to be around. He said she was lucky he had her to take care of her. And then she didn't. He died, and she wasn't so lucky and was physically thrown out of her home and into a workhouse. Her father's messages never completely left her, despite her mother's attempts to speak words of worth to her. Grace tries to hold on to those words, but she is separated from her mother. Perhaps coming to America will help her to start anew. If she can just overcome those negative messages.

Families can be difficult, and even good ones are far from perfect. Grace finds a way to overcome her past, but it's a difficult journey for anyone. There is hope, however, and if this describes you, my prayer for you is that you will find that hope.

I found this song inspiring. I hope you do too.

Do You Know Coral Bells?

I actually did discover on an Internet search there is a person with that name, but I'm talking about the flowers. In my book, Grace's Pictures, the woman Grace works for, Alice Parker, adores coral bells. She is an avid gardner, but she doesn't have these flowers in her garden, and she plans to plant them.

Later Grace and the Parker children she cares for, all named for trees, plan to plant these flowers for their mother.

When I wrote the book, I had never had any coral bells in my garden. What about you?

Of course, I had to plant some this year. Mine are a variety with purple foliage, probably not what was available in 1901 Manhattan. Here is my plant. You can't tell much by the photograph, but they seem to be doing well, and in the closeup you can see that it's about to bloom!

I planted it among some vinca vines (or creeping myrtle). I hope that's okay!

A bloom!

What about you? Do you have any perennials folks would have had in the early 20th century? Perhaps something your grandmother or great grandmother would have had? Or even a start from her plants??

Win an Autographed Copy of Grace's Pictures

Experience the Ellis Island Museum Right Here!

This is an excellent video for anyone wishing to experience Ellis Island but can't get there. It may just make you schedule a trip, though! Did you know over half of Americans can trace their roots through Ellis Island?




These kinds of stories inspired my Ellis Island Series.

Grace McCaffery hopes that the bustling streets of New York hold all the promise that the lush hills of Ireland did not. As her efforts to earn enough money to bring her mother to America fail, she wonders if her new Brownie camera could be the answer. But a casual stroll through a beautiful New York City park turns into a hostile run-in with local gangsters, who are convinced her camera holds the first and only photos of their elusive leader. A policeman with a personal commitment to help those less fortunate finds Grace attractive and longs to help her, but Grace believes such men cannot be trusted. Spread thin between her quest to rescue her mother, do well in a new nanny job, and avoid the gang intent on intimidating her, Grace must put her faith in unlikely sources to learn the true meaning of courage and forgiveness.

Growing Up Climbing the Family Tree

This is an awkward post for me to write, but I'm doing it because I want people to understand me better...or more likely, I want to understand myself better. When you read it, you'll probably wonder what the big deal was. I'm not uncovering skeletons or confessing a sin. It will seem that way to you because you're not me, so don't feel bad.

Well, you might know that families are complicated. You might relate to that concept. And a disclaimer first: my family loves me, and I love them. Okay. Here goes...

Technically I was not an only child. I had three older sisters. (I say had because the oldest has passed away.)


Since there are nearly seven years between me and my closest sister, I've heard it said (by Dr. Kevin Leman and others) that puts me in the only child category. And quite honestly, it's a lonely place to grow up.


Don't get me wrong, I love my sisters, but truly they grew up without me there and that changes how a relationship develops.

My mother and sisters long before me.

Why am I telling you this? Because while I was attending a writing seminar a few years ago, the leader kept asking me why writing these family legacy type stories was so important to me.

No siblings in several of my growing up pictures.

"Because," I said, "we can all learn so much from history and the sacrifices made for us."

"Why?" she asked.

"Because it's important to know who you are."

"Why is it important?"

"Uh, because then we will know where our place in the world is."

"Why, why, why?"






Hmm...She made me search my heart and it came down to the loneliness. I need to feel connected to family because so often growing up, I did not.

There you have it.

That's kind of a hard thing to admit, frankly.

So I started wondering...

Where is my place? How do I know I belong? What is the family legacy I need to pass on? Where does it start?

I imagine adopted people feel this even more strongly than I did, not to mention children raised in foster care. Everyone has to find that connection somehow. For some it comes through mentorship or close friends. Family gets redefined, and I think that's the absolute right thing for some people.

For me, I had a family. They were just older than me, and different, and involved in activities I was not ready for. I was on a journey to find my place.

It started here:
I think I was about 13 or 14. My oldest sister (middle, in the big-legged pants and halter top) visited from California and we had a reunion with my mom's side of the family. Always being the youngest (and most bored) I started collecting my relatives' stories and recollections. Something you MUST do. Right now! All of you!

Agee Family Reunion

Then several years later my parents bought me a book to record my family history. And I just took off from there.

This was taken in 1984 after we were all grown up.  Technically. :)

There are advantages to being the youngest by many years. If I can't think of any, my sisters will. But as for genealogy, my situation drove me to study the branches on the tree, and therefore I learned a lot. And when I have time to keep looking, I will certainly uncover much more. Anyone who does family research knows it's never ending and addictive.










Just a few of my discoveries:

• My grandfather did well during the Great Depression because he was the only manager of the only Kroger grocery in a fair-sized city.
• My grandmother's paternal side lived for many years in Ohio (something I only recently learned) and one was a part of an antislavery movement near Cincinnati. I am pretty certain she never knew this.
• One ancestor died at home during the Civil War. He was brought home by his brother and because he died at home, his widow had a difficult time getting her pension.
• My Scots-Irish ancestors left Ireland not only to escape poverty but also because they didn't believe in paying tithes to a church they didn't belong to.
• One ancestor, when only a young boy, freed a slave he had been given as payment on a debt.
• Another ancestor after becoming a widow, moved her children to the wilds of Indiana where Indians were still a threat. She bought land (not usual for a woman in the early 1800s.) And they prospered there.

Family history will continue to inspire my writing, from novels, to short stories, to non-fiction articles. I think our experiences meld us into who we are and what we feel compelled do. And as a Christian I believe God directs our paths.

So, to rephrase another writer, "I write to know I'm not alone."

If you're a genealogy buff, what experiences formed your passion for researching your roots?