Set Sail with Jennifer Fromke on A Familiar Shore

Happy Memorial Day Weekend! Katy Lee here with Jennifer Fromke. She’s here to share  about A Familiar Shore, her latest book that just happens to take place around Memorial Day. Did we plan that just right, or what?! I’m excited to hear how Jennifer did her research for this exciting story, so take it away, Jennifer!

Thank you, Katy, for having me on the Scribes! A long time ago, back when I was only thinking about writing, I decided contemporary fiction would be the easier route because there would be no research. Remember, I said it was a long time ago…I was fairly naïve.

Obviously, all writing requires research. This quickly became a stark reality for me. Now I think writing a contemporary story may even require more research, because every reader is living in the same time period and everything must ring true.

So I began the process of researching as I began writing my debut novel. Thank goodness for the internet! My story takes place on and around several boats and the biggest blessing for me as I wrote A Familiar Shore turned out to be my best source of information about boats: my dad.

Growing up in Michigan, it seems like we were always on the water. Most fair weather weekends were spent either boating on the Great Lakes, or water skiing and sailing on one of the smaller lakes. Dad recently even spent one winter living on a boat in Florida. Boating is his hobby and he taught me a lot about them as I grew up. For example, I have an immovable sense about which side is Port and which is Starboard.

One of the main characters in my novel is an octogenarian who lives on an old yacht, travelling along the southeastern seaboard. So I wrote several scenes taking place on the yacht. I can’t count the number of times I emailed Dad asking something like this: “What do you call that thing in the pilot house that the captain uses for . . .” He was so patient with me! He always knew where to send me for further research, photos, etc . . .

Then I wrote an action scene in the novel, which takes place in the middle of a lake on a Hobie Cat. I needed Dad’s help to see what the boat would do in my scenario and how an inexperienced sailor might react. And again, there were several questions about what you call that “thing-y . . .”

While I like to talk to my dad fairly frequently, having this extra excuse was truly a blessing for me. Sometimes my questions would trigger a memory he recounted to me. Sometimes his answer would remind me just how wise and full of knowledge he is. I became extra grateful for a childhood largely punctuated by time on the water and I think this comes out in the novel.

As I write the next novel, which is strangely devoid of boats, I’m missing my “go-to” guy for research. It’s way more fun to talk with somebody I love about what I’m doing than it is to read from the internet all by myself. But I’m plugging away at it. With joy.

Question: Have you written about a topic in which your family or friends are experts?

Jennifer Fromke is a native Michigander, but writes from North Carolina these days. She is a Wheaton College graduate and loves nothing better than a few solitary hours with a great book and a latte.

In her debut novel, A Familiar Shore, we meet Meg Marks, a young lawyer raised off the coast of the Carolinas. An anonymous client hires her to arrange his will, and sends her to meet his estranged family at their lake home in northern Michigan. After a shocking discovery, she finds herself caught between his suspicious family and a deathbed promise her conscience demands that she keep. Will she sacrifice her own dreams for revenge, or will she choose something more?

A Familiar Shore is available on Amazon and Barnes and Noble.

Great to have you, Jennifer, on the Scribes! I hope you will come back again.

Readers: A Familiar Shore is an exciting story! And what better way to spend Memorial day on the lake in a boat! Ahhhhh! It’s just one click away, and you can be there, too!

Serendipity

Hi!  Happy Memorial Day Weekend!  J Monkeys here.  Does this ever happen to you? 

You walk into a random second-hand book sale at a crazy place (like your office) saying, “Gosh, I’d really like to find a copy of Outlander by Diana Gabaldon, even though it was published 20 years ago and this is a charity sale of random books people donated,” and there it is, one copy of Outlander, waiting just for you on a table.

Or weeks before the event, you say to your spouse, “Whilst I’m working at that Scholastic warehouse sale hosted in a restaurant rather than an actual warehouse thereby limiting the selection, I’m going to get a hard-cover edition of Eldest since we have the rest of that series in hard cover and the paperback Eldest is throwing off the bookshelf’s karma.”  only to find that there is one, lone, slightly beat-up hard cover copy of Eldest waiting in the Fill-A-Box-for-$25 section.

Both of these things happened to me, one of them happened today.  This is serendipity: finding just what you want/need at exactly the time you want/need it.

Occasionally, these serendipitous moments will happen when I’m writing, too.  I might be struggling with an idea or a character and I come across exactly what I’m looking for, right when I’m looking.  If I had come across it two weeks earlier, I probably wouldn’t have recognized it and jumped on it because I hadn’t been ready for it yet.  When this happens, I try not to over think the whole thing.  I just like to take it as a gift from the universe, or a karmic payment for something or another.

How have you encountered serendipity?

R.C. Bonitz – A Blanket for Her Heart

Happy Friday everyone! Casey Wyatt here. Please welcome our guest today, romance author R.C. Bonitz! To see R.C.’s response to our interview questions – click here. RC is here to tell us about his new novel and free giveway. Stay tuned until the end for more details!

Take it away, R.C.!

Thank you for hosting me today Casey. It’s a pleasure to be on Seven Scribes.  This post is mostly about a free giveaway, but you might find my comments on other author’s books interesting.

I took a walk recently on a very bright and sunny day. Global warming has been filling the skies with clouds lately, but the sun looked really good. And since we had rain not too long before that everything was a brilliant Springtime green. Wonderful. But, enough about the beautiful day. I’ve got a bit of news about my books and a few others.

I’ve been very busy editing my new book (number three — A Little Bit of Baby) and writing a new one and promoting the two that are out there already, so taking a break for the sunshine was really great. Despite all that I’ve had the time to read three books on my Kindle. Some of you may know the work of Kristan Higgins? Laura Moore? Natale Stanzel?

I’ve read most of Kristan Higgins books and loved them all. But I think she’s outdone herself with the latest — Somebody To Love. Parker Wells stuck with me from an earlier book even though she was a minor character in that one. This time she’s the star of the show, and a very humble one at that. Kristan’s humor cracks me up, but in the end this is a book that pulls at your heartstrings. Can’t wait for the next one.

Another writer I’m hooked on now is Laura Moore, author of the Rosewood series. Her book, Believe In Me, the second in the series, was the first of hers I’ve read, but I’ll be back for more. The Radcliffe sisters and their clan are the kind of cozy family you just wish you were a part of. And when Jordan meets Owen her world warms up considerably. (After it falls apart a bit.) Like Kristan’s book, Believe In Me warms your heart as well.

My third recent read was Pandora’s Box by Natale Stenzel. I had never heard of Natale until we connected on Linkedin. Liking romantic comedy, I thought I’d try her book, then discovered I was reading paranormal romantic comedy. Now there’s an interesting genre combination- and Natale pulls it off very well. Once I started reading I couldn’t put it down. Mina was a great heroine and I was ready to pop the Puca upside the head a few times, especially when it looked like Teague was in trouble, but with a few surprise twists the end was very satisfying.

Okay, I said I had some news about my own books. Here you go. I will be doing a free giveaway of A Blanket for Her Heart. It’s about Anne Hoskins, who is suddenly faced with a decision that can change her life completely. Choose to hide, or give wings to her life? Which way will she go? Check out Amazon May 24 and 25 to get yourself a FREE read. I haven’t gotten any formal reviews yet, but folks are going out of their way to tell me they enjoyed it. Take a look at the excerpt below and have fun. I hope you like it too. Cheers RC

A BLANKET FOR HER HEART- EXCERPT

~ ONE ~

 First light formed leaf shadows on the cabinets as she entered the kitchen. Those big trees had been there for years, but they were old now, tall and thinned out, blocking less of the early morning sun. Winter sometimes seemed better, on sunny days when bright rays slid through barren branches to flood the breakfast table. Not always though. Not when winter’s cold was dark and penetrating.

Bright and sunny, just comfortable, the day was starting well. She’d been up since three, reading and pacing, waiting for the light so she could start her day outside. Early was a pattern lately, into bed and out of it, bored to numbness when sleep was so elusive.

Her friend Molly thought it was time to see a doctor, but there was nothing a professional could say she didn’t know already. Physically her health was perfect.

“I need a new bed, that’s all,” she told her friend. “Besides, I’m always thinking of what I’m going to do in the morning.”

“What’s so important?” Molly asked, and she offered the usual list of things.

That was what she did, things. This thing, that thing, nothing. Tend her garden, read Jane Austen or some travel book; wash the dishes, paint, or whatever. Granted, her paintings were beautiful and she did so many one always sat unfinished on the easel, but she hadn’t sold any. Furniture restorations brought in some income, but she usually didn’t do that many pieces.

Fifty-four years old and not counting, she lived like a hermit with few friends. She did know one neighbor, but she’d never married, and had always lived alone. Molly often told her she’d be happier if she did more with her life and she struggled with such thoughts these days.

She turned on the TV, hoping the movie channel might have something good.

Sly Stallone in his first Rambo. So stimulating. Thought provoking. Annoyed but too bored to care, she settled back in the sofa and within minutes the images barely touched her mind. By seven-thirty, she’d had enough and punched the off button with the remains of her wrist. Dry cereal and milk, half an orange, and coffee for breakfast; she dumped the dirty dishes in the sink twenty minutes later and abandoned the kitchen.

The patio garden looked like an impressionist’s palette. Her one green thumb coaxed flowers to brilliant life year round. Indoors in winter of course, but she had plants ready to bloom as spring temperatures began. Each morning she spent two hours weeding and pruning, winding her fingers through the dirt to carefully arrange it to her whim. The stump of her left arm served as well as her right hand, caressing dirt and flowers with the same gentle touch. It was a touch returned by the earth, giving her the best hours of each day in quiet occupation of her mind. She put a dozen pansies in a juice glass and remembered she hadn’t thanked Molly for picking up the flats this year.

After gardening, she returned rake and hoe to the garage and cleaned up at the slop sink in the corner. She wiped black dirt from her knees and delivered a good scrubbing to the right hand. A brush screwed to the wall just above the sink did the job. Small stitch scars in her stump got an easy wipe. The skin was smooth and quite soft for all the abuse it got. Both hand and stump got a dose of hand cream, spread liberally, but only lightly rubbed. A wipe with the old towel she kept handy finished the job.

Lunch was the usual. Peanut butter and grape jam on white, red wine, and a handful of Lorna Doones. Sometimes it was cream cheese instead of peanut butter, chocolate chips instead of Lorna Doones, but that was about it as far as variety went. She took two glasses of merlot this time instead of one. That was not unusual lately.

Afterwards, she wrapped a dishtowel around the left arm and secured it with two rubber bands to wash the dishes.

“You’d be amazed what I can buy through the mail now, Hannah. Rubber bands, seeds, books, clothes, all sorts of things. You’d probably be selling things on a website these days yourself.” She wiped the breakfast bowl with the left arm towel and set it on the drying rack. “Not like me though. I hate that ridiculous computer. Molly talked me into buying one, but I can barely turn it on right.

“I’m having trouble with that painting I’ve been working on too. It looks so bland, not even that maybe, so much as gray and dismal. I should probably trash the thing. You know what? I think I’m going to catch a little sun this afternoon.”

It was one sided, this conversation with her dead grandmother, but quite all right. She knew it was imaginary, though sometimes it almost seemed she got an answer.

Her father got an occasional remark as well, but little more. It was Hannah she talked to, Hannah she often wished were truly at her side. Their chats had served to keep her company, at least until now. There was no one else to talk to most of the time.

Except Molly, or Grace, when one of them came around. Which didn’t seem to be that often lately. The house was still too, her world so very silent these last few months.

Dishes washed, towel removed, she headed for the bathroom, stripping off her pink tee shirt as she went. She dropped it in the hamper, brushed her teeth and hair, and relieved herself quickly. Then it was out to the patio, where she pulled one white lounge chair into place and stretched out to take the sun on her back. She’d heard all the cancer warnings, but never did the sun thing very long. Besides, everyone needed some vices in their life.

Face down on the lounge, wearing only shorts, she was drifting into sleep when something made a sound behind her. She turned. A man smiled weakly, then stared, eyes wide, as she dashed for the house.

“Please. I need help,” he called as she slammed the door in his face.

 Get a copy of A BLANKET FOR HER HEART  free MAY 24 AND 25 at

AMAZON    

Thanks for being our guest today R.C!

What books have you read recently that you really enjoyed? If you have questions, for R.C., don’t be shy – ask away!

I Never Promised You A Rose Garden

Hello, Scribe fans. Suze here. Great to see you again! Grab a cuppa something and sit down with us a spell.

Martha Stewart I ain’t!

I don’t know about you, but I love gardens. Shade gardens full of dramatic hostas, delicate lily-of-the-valley, trilliums, and bleeding heart.  Sun-loving gardens stuffed with beautifully tended roses, day and Oriental lilies, irises, black-eyed Suzes, and my two favorite flowers: peonies and big white Shasta daisies with bright yellow fuzzy tummies.  In my fantasy, my yard is perfectly landscaped. My flower beds are full of vivid annuals and perennials, all perfectly coordinated as to color, size, and form. Each plant is perfectly planned and placed to bloom in succession so something is in flower from earliest spring right through the first frost.

Wait! Don’t bother me. I’m still fantasizing. Where was I? Oh yes. There are no  Japanese beetles eating holes in the leaves of my precious green darlings. Butterflies and hummingbirds (both signs of good luck for me) visit daily. What’s that I see? Oh, a single stray weed growing naughtily where it shouldn’t be. I laugh, shake my head, and pull it up by its shallow roots, tossing it into the well-camouflaged compost pile where it can decompose and return to the earth, ready to nourish new, desirable plants next year.

I’ve killed it.

My reality is not quite so nice, I’m afraid. In truth, I struggle with the gardens. Each spring I dutifully plant zinnias and marigolds and nasturtiums in those cute little peat pots and set them in a south-facing window. Each year, I end up throwing them back into the compost pile (that part of my fantasy, at least, is real) because I’ve forgotten to water them, or they’re spindly and have failed to grow more than their first set of baby leaves. Then I sigh and head once again to the mom-and-pop garden shop the next street over, and buy my big, healthy annuals there. I usually get them in the ground a week or two later, and quite often some of them survive.  By the end of summer, the weeds are high enough that I could bale them and donate them to the deserving cows at the local farm where we get our ice cream. Everytime I walk past the gardens, I feel sad, as though I’ve failed somehow. Or worse, like Charlie Brown and his pathetic little Christmas Tree, with not a security blanket in sight.

So for the last couple of years, I’ve been trying something different. Instead of annuals, I’ve been collecting perennials in an effort to reduce the work and maximize the reward. But I haven’t bought a single one. I’ve solicited them from people I love, including my mom and Sister Scribe PJ Sharon.  And I actually planted them in the ground, and gave them some water and fertilizer to start off (after that they’re on their own).

So far, this experiment is working pretty well! I’ve got healthy perennials growing. Some, like the lily-of-the valley and the bleeding heart, have gone by. Others, like the big red day lilies and the black eyed Suzes and the tall phlox and bee balm in various colors tease me with their foliage, which I know is just the foreplay for a future gorgeous display of flowers. Now I walk by those gardens with joy and pride. They’re not perfect, and they still need much work, but they are beautiful to me and full of positive energy.

What made the difference? I think it’s because the plants were shared. I’m invested in them in a way I never am with plants I buy.  When someone gives freely, both the recipient and the giver reap the benefits. So give what you can, whether it’s time, expertise, money, a note or phone call to a friend, or a simple Facebook post or Tweet about a book you enjoyed.  When something is offered to you, be it a physical item or an offer of support, don’t automatically turn it down. The giver may need the act more than you. You’ll be glad you did.

And if anyone has any purple coneflower (echinacea), pink peonies, and/or a Shasta daisy that need dividing, let me know! I’ll be there in a heartbeat with shovel in hand.

What about you? Do you have a green thumb, or are you the kiss of death for plants?

Projects, projects, projects

PJ Sharon back from a vacation in the beautiful Smokey Mountains with a big “thank you” to my Scribes buddies who stood in for me last week. It wasn’t just Suze and Casey covering on my behalf while I was away. Thanks to Cat Kalen for bailing me out of my scheduling curflewy and moderating comments on YA Beyond last friday. And lest I forget the most supportive people around, the fabulous WG2E Street Team has been hard at work preparing the Beach Book Blast. I’m on board with fourteen other indie authors who either have their books up for FREE or have them listed for .99 cents between May 23-25^th, and these folks have done an extraordinary job of organizing the event. SAVAGE CINDERELLA will be available for FREE on May 23^rd and 24^th ONLY, since I have just two more free days available through the KDP Select program. (click here for more info on why authors are giving their books away FREE.)

The WG2E folks are some hard workers, let me tell you. I’m so proud to be associated with such amazing professionals as D.D. Scott who contributed a FREE Kindle Fire as a contest giveaway during the event, Alicia Street our organizer, and Tamara Ward and Greg Corrico, two of the tech savvy people who helped set up our BeachBookBlast site, our FB page, and a Pinterest Board. Thank you all for holding down the fort and forging on without me. It’s so nice to not be alone in this crazy, solitary writer’s world.

In honor of Memorial Day, I’ve also made Heaven Is For Heroes available on Amazon, B&N, and Smashwords for .99 cents. I hope you’ll pass the word on to those who might be interested in a sweet YA romance about a girl, a Marine, and a family drama that will have you crying on one page and laughing on the next. The perfect gift to honor someone you know who has served in the military or is part of a military family.

So now, on to my new found secret I’d like to share with all of you. Aside from heading south to witness one of the loveliest weddings it has been my privilege to attend, the other reason I was so looking forward to getting away last week was that I needed some time away from business so I could take care of something even more important. That means working on writing books. I did find opportunities to advance my WIP while I was relaxing, the rushing waters of the nearby creek stirring up my creative flow and making me think about some good advice I’ve heard from a few great authors. “When you get stuck, make sure you have something else to work on.”

The concept of working on more than one project at a time might sound ludicrous to those of us struggling with completing even one, but I’ve been finding myself stuck after each scene in my dystopian trilogy, having to take time to ponder, research, or otherwise percolate before being able to get the next scene on the page. During that time I’m hearing the voices of other stories singing in my ear. I’m fighting not to listen. I keep thinking I have to force myself to stay focused and stick it out with my WIP, but I’m beginning to see another way to work.

Perhaps those other authors have found the secret to keeping their creative juices flowing and their WIP’s growing by listening to the voices and working on multiple books simultaneously. Rather than swimming against the current, maybe I need to go with the flow, and stop trying to “push the river” as Vic in HIFH would say. I’m willing to give it a try and see how it works. To that end, I’ll be making writing a priority every day and focusing on making forward progress, no matter where it takes me. I’ll let you know how it goes.

Does anyone else want to admit to working this way? Do you have multiple projects going on at the same time? How do you manage your manic muse?

 

How Do You Handle Bad News?

NOTICE: This is a true story that took place very recently. If you are sensitive to slighty yucky but natural things I suggest you do not read on.

I hate delivering bad news. In fact I dread it. Though in my line of work it is a necessary evil. As a special education teacher I find myself in contact with parents more than most teachers. Like daily. This week alone I had to call a parent to tell them that their child proceeded to color his teeth black with a magic marker when he was out of my line of vision. But most of my phone calls are little things. Like little Johnny is eating toilet paper and glue sticks and has a real fondness for chalk. Or Mikey has taken to looking up all the adults skirts. Or Becky is eating her boogers. A lot. Like so much I’m wondering how she has a nose left. Even though my babies are special most of what they do is not outside of the normal kid realm.

But there is one thing I hate telling parents. Like hate-hate. Like stay up at night wondering how I’m going to break the news. You think I would be a pro at it by now. Kids typical and special alike do it.  And I see more of it than one would expect teaching second grade.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Doe? Would you mind coming inside for a few minutes,” I ask a parent during dismissal.

The poor woman gives me the look. The what now look, that I see from every parent when I ask to speak to them in private. I know she isn’t going to want to hear what I have to say and trust me I don’t want to be the one to have to tell her. But one must soldier on in these cases.

“Your son is…. Um…” My ears start to burn.

Mrs. Doe looks at me with sympathy.  ”What is it? Trust me. Almost nothing you can say would shock me at this point.”

“Your son has found his willy wacker.” (For the record I did say the real word but so low the woman couldn’t hear me.)

“Excuse me?”

“His thing.” My ears are on fire at this point. ”He’s found his thing. And has taken to whipping it out at every opportunity. I guess the good news is that he doesn’t know what to do with it so he kind of just swats at it. But my point is that he CANNOT do that in school.”

The mother sighs, only, slightly mortified. “I was hoping he was only doing that at home.”

“Nope. He’s sharing his love with everybody.”

“How long can I expect this phase to last?”

“He’s a man, Mrs. Doe. It will probably be for the rest of his life.”

Thankfully she laughs and wraps her arm around me. “Thanks for telling me. Now how do we fix this?”

That problem I actually know how to fix. I have a file on my computer filled with information about this along with a bunch of other files most teachers wouldn’t dream of having.Like a nose picking file. And how to potty train children over five file. And a body odor file. But I digress. For me the only way to deliver unpleasant news is to plow through it.

On the reverse side I take in good and bad news the same way. I barely react at all. My poor parents have been disappointed many birthdays and Christmas Mornings. Because I barely reacted to my awesome presents at all. Although a child once surprised me with a plate of brownies and my face lit up like a the Fourth of July. (Go figure.)

So what about you? How do you deliver bad news. How do you receive it? Are you a reactive person. Are you easily surprised?

How Story Structure Saved My Sanity (and My Writing Career!) by Cathy Bryant

Hello, Katy Lee here. Today I have author, Cathy Bryant visiting the Scribes with some really great info for you! So take it away, Cathy!

Psst. Hey you. Yes, you. Wanna hear a secret? I have oodles of incomplete novels residing in my file cabinets. They started off as great story ideas—stories I was in love with enough to launch myself into the lengthy process of writing a novel . . . um, well . . . at least for the first thirty-thousand words.

So what happened between my optimistic start and the time where I threw my hands up in surrender, snatched up the stacks of finished pages, and crammed them in the dark depths of my desk? Simple. I hit the proverbial brick wall and couldn’t decide where the stories should go next.

For years, the same scenario would play itself out. Dream the story. Attack it with gusto. Write merrily. Hit the wall. (Rinse. Repeat.) Then once my kids were grown and on their own, I decided it was time to get serious. I voraciously studied the craft of writing using the internet, books, online classes—whatever I could get my hands on. Then finally, I found the cure for my ailment . . .

. . . Story structure.

All stories follow a tried-and-true formula (with minor variations). Don’t believe me? I’ll prove it. Read this post, then watch two or three movies—preferably in different genres—to see if you can find these elements included in each of them. And to drive home the point, I’ll also give you a few movie examples. (You can do this with books, but it saves time to watch a two-hour movie instead.)

Part One

-Regular World:

When the story begins, the main character is in his/her normal everyday world. (Examples: Mary is at the wedding of a client in The Wedding Planner; Frodo is in the shire in Lord of the Rings; George Bailey is in Bedford Falls in It’s A Wonderful Life.)

-Opportunity Knocks For A New Life:

The hero/heroine then has an opportunity for a new life. (Examples: Erinpersuades an attorney to give her a job in Erin Brokovich; Robin Williams’ character initiates a plan to see his children in Mrs. Doubtfire.)

Part Two

-Event That Changes the Plan:

Something happens to the main character that changes everything and moves them into the real story. (Examples: A tornado hits Dorothy’s house in The Wizard of Oz; the ship hits an iceberg in Titanic.)

-The Point of No Return (midpoint of the story):

Our hero/heroine must move ahead knowing there is no turning back, with the stakes higher than ever. (Example: In an attempt to gather evidence, Mitch McDeere is forced to hide his activities from both the antagonists and the FBI in The Firm.)

Part Three

-Dark Moment Which Leads to the Final Battle:

The worst of the worst happens, but our hero/heroine has grown throughout the course of the story and is now ready to take on the antagonistic force. (Examples: in almost every romance, this is where boy loses girl, but then goes on to win her back; the oldest son of Mel Gibson’s character dies in The Patriot.)

Resolution & Aftermath:

The biggest scene in the story takes place, followed by the ending scene(s). (Example: Rocky defeats . . . well, depending on the number, you can pick your opponent.) =)

I hope this helps you in your own story-writing and saves your sanity in the process. And who knows? If you’re like me—and have a few dozen stories hidden in your files—it might be time to dust them off and see if we can get past that proverbial brick wall…

 

Cathy Bryant’s first completed novel, TEXAS ROADS, was a 2009 ACFW Genesis finalist. In 2010, Cathy added A PATH LESS TRAVELED to the Miller’s Creek novels, and is currently working on THE WAY OF GRACE, book three in the series. Cathy, a native Texan, recently yanked up her yellow-rose-of-Texas roots to be transplanted with her husband of thirty years to Northwest Arkansas near the world’s cutest grandson. You can find out more about Cathy at www.CatBryant.com or find her on Facebook and Twitter.

Thank you, Cathy for sharing your secret with us. This was just the message I needed to hear today!

 

Readers: Cathy is giving away one copy of A Path Less Traveled for 25 or fewer comments and two eBook giveaways of the same book for more than 25 comments…so start commenting, asking questions, discussing problems in your WIP…you name it, let’s hear it!

*Enter your email in a safe format by 5/21/12 12:00PM ET if you want to be considered. The winner will be announced next Sunday.*