So You've Finished Your Novel... Now What? by Vanessa C. Hawkins

 

 

 Vanessa Hawkins Author Page

    

Yes! You see correctly! I have finally included another cover amongst my books! Twice Hung is finally finished (at least the draft) and I can rest easy knowing that it has now flown off to visit the editors, who will--hopefully--rip it apart until I cry and feel sorry for myself. A good editor does that, ya know. Any editor that tells you the first draft is perfect is... well, fibbin'. Get you a Doctor Frankenstein if you can, because an editor that can take a few bare bones and help you to stick some meat on them, is worth every penny. Really though. But what do you do after you write a novel? In my case... start a new one! But if you aren't ready for that, just sit back and bask in your ability to follow through on an idea.

... I was going to end the blog there for comedic effect, but I DID follow through! I finished a book!

I think I'll watch an entire crime docuseries... With icecream... What do you do to celebrate when you finish a book? After George R. R. Martin finishes a book he...

Just kidding! George R. R. Martin never finishes books...

Back to the Research by Eileen O'Finlan

 

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Ask almost any author of historical fiction and we'll tell you we love doing the research for our books almost as much as we love writing them. My favorite was the research I did for Erin's Children, the sequel to my debut novel, Kelegeen. The reason it was extra enjoyable was because I set Erin's Children in Worcester, Massachusetts, the city in which I have worked for almost 20 years. 

I grew up in Holden and I still live there. The town line runs down my street so all I have to do is walk across the street and I'm in Worcester. Despite living so close to Worcester and working in that city for so long, I didn't know much about its history until I started researching it for my novel. Once I got into it, I found the history of Worcester in the 1850s to be a fascinating study.

I don't know if it was because of the setting or because I was already familiar with several of the main characters, they having come from my first book, Kelegeen, but I had more fun writing Erin's Children than any other book I've written. That's saying a lot since I greatly enjoy the writing process.

Now that I've decided to write a third (and, possibly, a fourth) book in this series, I am excited to dive back into the research. This time it will be Worcester in the 1860s which will take the reader into the time of the American Civil War. Most of the characters will remain on the northern home front, but I will be sending a few of them to the battlefields. To write this story accurately, I need to research Worcester at that time, the volunteers sent by the City to serve in the Union Army and what life was like for them, as well as the war itself, not to mention everyday life in 1860s Worcester. 

The books have been amassed, the map of 19th century Worcester unrolled and spread out on the table, the notebooks ready to be filled, and trips to the Worcester Historical Museum await. As is true for every author of historical fiction, I know my research will encompass much more than I will actually use in the story. I'm also sure I'll travel down a great many rabbit holes in the process. All of that is okay. More than okay - it's welcomed. It is the joy of research! 

I am determined that the books I write are as historically accurate as possible. I found from the response to Erin's Children that readers love finding out the history of Worcester and "seeing" it played out on the page, especially readers who know the City. So, I know it will be a pleasure to offer them more as well as to learn about it myself.

The timing on this turns out to be perfect since I recently met a local author, Mary Anne Kalonas Slack, who has just released her debut novel, The Sacrificial Daughter, also set in Worcester and featuring an Irish family. We are now planning some author talks together this spring focusing on our Irish in Worcester books. Talking to readers about Erin's Children should really galvanize my momentum towards digging into the research so I can start putting words on the pages of the next book. I truly love those characters and can't wait to revisit my old friends!

The table in my home library where I read and take notes.

The book open on the table contains the annual reports of the City of Worcester from 1861 through 1865.

Among these books are several on the American Civil War and its aftermath.

My steadily growing collection of books on Worcester's history.

My 1870s map of Worcester. 

It's been rolled up for so long I needed to put something on every corner to hold it down.

Thank Goodness for Spring, by Diane Scott Lewis

 

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Today, thinking about the warmth of spring, and how much I miss it, I thought I'd look into the history of the season. I hope you enjoy the brief - I promise - explanation of the rite of Spring.

Being a California gal, I never went through harsh winters. 50 degrees was chilly for us. If we wanted to frolic in the snow, we drove up into the mountains.

Now that I'm married and have traveled all over with my navy husband, we live on the east coast, where temps can dip far below zero. Each winter I wait for spring.

Spring was the beginning of a new year, the celebration of fertility and the abundance of nature. In the fourteenth century, the period known as Lent, where people deprived themselves of certain things, when it ended it started to be known as "springing time". This was because plants and other greenery started springing back up from the ground.

And people before electric lights could actually spend longer hours outside and plant their fields, so they had food before another winter came. The circle of life.

In California it meant no more sweaters, fog and rain. We had it so easy.

Now, for me, spring is the longer days, the warmth of the sun, and if I was a billionaire I'd return to California. But I would miss my granddaughters, so I'll stay here.

More on the history of spring. The pagans, not understanding the rotation of the earth in relation to the sun, had a god or goddess for everything to explain the changes in seasons. 

Ostara was the pagan goddess of fertility and spring.

Sometimes her name was known as Eastre or Eostre. From this came the word Easter. The goddess of fertility had the animal symbol of the bunny. That's probably why rabbits are associated with Easter. Plus rabbits are known for their procreation abilities.

The poor chicken got left behind.

As for eggs, they represented new life and rebirth. In the medieval period, during Lent eating eggs was forbidden. So by Easter Sunday, eating an egg was a treat. 

Decorating the eggs started from a Persian custom adopted by the early Christians of Mesopotamia. They stained the eggs with red coloring to represent the blood Christ shed at his crucifixion.

For me spring is being able to go out on my front porch and not shiver. Also, sitting in the sun and reading a good book is my treat.

Diane lives in Western Pennsylvania with her husband and one rambunctious dachshund.

Creating a Home Library - A Labor of Love, Part 2 by Eileen O'Finlan

 

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In my February 7th post I wrote about how I was turning an unused room in my house into a long-desired home library. Good news - it's finished!

It was indeed a labor of love in more ways than one. I mentioned last month, how much I love being surrounded by my books. The other "love" part of this labor is that the room in question used to be my mom's bedroom. We lived together since shortly before my dad passed away in 1996. About three and a half years ago my mom had to move to a nursing home because of rapidly increasing dementia. She died on December 16, 2024. During the time she was in the nursing home I didn't do much with her room. Mostly, I just kept the door shut because I couldn't bear to look at her empty bedroom. 

Before Mom went to the nursing home, when she was still enough in her right mind, she and I talked about what would become of her room after she passed away. She was open like that. Talking about her own passing didn't bother her. Mostly, she wanted to know that the people she left behind would be alright. During one of those conversations, I broached the idea of turning her bedroom into a home library. At first she didn't say anything and I was worried that she didn't like the idea which was a surprise to me since she loved books and reading almost as much as I do. When I asked if she objected, she said, "No. I think it's a wonderful idea. I was just thinking that I wish I would be here to see it."

So, Mom, this library is in your honor! I truly believe that as I was creating it she was watching over my shoulder and nodding approvingly. If her gentle spirit is a presence in my new library, it will be a blessed place.

                 
    Table for doing research for novels                            Reading nook

   

Mom's shelf with her diploma in elementary education from the University of Vermont, 

her graduation program, and her name plate

A New Title, and excerpt, "Bretagne: a forbidden affair", by Diane Scott Lewis

 

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Formally "Outcast Artist in Bretagne," my WWII novel is now "Bretagne: a forbidden affair."

In the month of love because of Valentine's Day, enjoy a different kind of romance. A romance no one would expect to survive without dire consequences.

August is the German commandant of southern Brittany. Norah is an Englishwoman trapped in France after the German invasion. The two fall in love after she draws his portrait, desperate for money. August loathes Hitler and has plans to take Norah to Switzerland. Every moment is rife with danger.

Read an excerpt:

“I understand. It’s so awful.” Norah drank from her cup, her gaze searching. “I just want us out of this war, some place safe for you and me. A cottage on Lake Lucerne?”

“I’m working on that. As soon as my son graduates next autumn, I can put in my papers, then take him out of Germany.” August drank half his cup, stood, fetched his tunic, and put it on. “I have to leave now to inspect the airfield at the tip of this peninsula. I’ll return tomorrow. Why don’t I bring over my horse, and you have your cousin Jean spend the night here? He can ride Maler, and I’ll rest easier knowing you aren’t alone.”

She rose and stepped up to him, her smile tempting, her eyes moist. “That’s a perfect idea, thank you.”

He bent, longing to wipe away any hesitation, any lasting doubts, and kissed her, hard, his hands in her hair. Tasting the sweetness of her lips, he pressed her close. She wrapped her arms around him. He pulled back, stabilizing himself before his resolve melted. “I wish I could stay, but we slept late, and I must bring Maler.” He turned from her flushed face, put on his hat, and left the cottage. August’s body thrummed like a tuning fork. He yearned to indulge in their passion, but needed to stand aloof, the man in charge, for just a little longer.

Diane lives is Western Pennsylvania with her husband and one naughty dachshund. 

Historical Research by Eileen O'Finlan

 

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Have you ever wondered why it seems that a lot of time elapses between books from authors of historical fiction? It can feel like a long frustrating wait, especially when authors of many other genres seem to pump out books at lightning speed. There are several variables that determine how much time it takes to write a book such as the speed at which any given author writes, the amount of outlining (or lack thereof) done ahead of time, and the number and depth of revisions to name a few. But for most authors of historical fiction, the preliminary research can easily take just as long as the actual writing of the book. Sometimes, longer. This is not to say that authors of other genres don't do any research. They do. But historical research seems to be naturally more in-depth.

I usually take anywhere from six months to a year for research before I even begin to write. Once I start writing, I will still stop several times for more research because something invariably comes up that I didn't realize I was going to need to know about before I started.

So what does that initial research look like? Maybe I'm a bit old school, but I still favor using books for research so that's where I start. Right now I'm in the research phase for the next Irish book (so those of you who are fans of Kelegeen and Erin's Children, there will be a third and, most likely, a fourth book with these characters). The next book will be set during the American Civil War. Even though the setting is Worcester, Massachusetts, some characters will go to fight in the war and at least one of them will be a POV (point of view) character. So part of my research is on the Civil War in general then narrow in to focus on the regiments that were sent from Worcester and the battles in which they took part.

I will also need to know about everyday life in the 1860s including foodways, how holidays were celebrated (Christmas was finally becoming a "thing" in New England by then), fashion, etc. I'll need to know what was happening in Worcester during that time which I will learn about from reading the City's annual reports for that decade. Women were becoming more independent so some of my non-Irish female characters may take up employment. I will need to know where they might have worked and what that was like for them.

The books being used for research for my next Irish novel (yes, all of them!)

While what I plan to write determines what I will need to research, my research also informs what I will write. As I do the research, I often come across something very interesting and decide I want it in my story. Then I may need to learn even more about it. The research and the writing are co-dependent in this way. There are a lot of rabbit holes one can go down while researching. Fortunately, most of them lead to something that can be used, if not in the current manuscript, then in a future one.

I do not stop at books, though. I will also include websites, trips to museums (I foresee several to the Worcester Historical Musuem), chats with Tom Kelleher, my dear friend and favorite historian, and whatever else presents itself as needed.

Like most authors of historical fiction, I strive to create books that are as historically accurate as possible while also being stories in which my readers can totally immerse themselves. And that, dear readers, takes time.

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Norah is caught forging, will August forgive? Outcast Artist in Bretagne by Diane Scott Lewis

 

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My turbulent couple caught up in WWII hide secrets from one another. He's a German officer who hates Hitler. She's an Englishwoman forging passes to help Jewish families escape France. Enjoy an excerpt when Norah is finally caught.

Norah stood tiptoe on a chair and pulled the documents from the attic, the narrow place she’d dusted the best she could. Giselle was coming over for coffee, and to look at what she had. The mayor’s wife had friends who could distribute paperwork and collect information. She had to trust her. Norah felt a burden lifting from her shoulders at no more sneaking around, no more deception.

Last night, as August slept beside her, she decided this was the best option.

She balanced and went to step down from the chair. A paper floated to the floor. The door unlocked and opened. She sucked in her breath.

August stood in the doorway. “What are you doing up there?” He was supposed to be gone, inspecting the airfield.

The chair seemed to shake with her jolt of emotions. She stepped off, the documents smashed to her chest. Her pulse pounded in her ears. “I’m cleaning up some old paperwork. I thought you’d be at Audierne.”

“The inspection was delayed.” He walked forward and picked up the paper from the floor. It was a sketch of her recreation of the Reichsadler, the Nazi eagle over a swastika, required on travel permits. He held it up. “What is this? Norah, mein Gott. You are forging, aren’t you?”

Her breath came in rasps. “Please. Think of the Jewish children.”

“You lied to me. I thought I could trust you.” The hurt in his face jabbed at her, nearly spinning her to the floor.

“August, I…” She had no viable excuse. “I didn’t exactly lie. I never admitted the truth.”

He took the documents from her shivering hands. “Do you know what would happen if Captain Schmidt discovered this? From you, my fiancée. You would face arrest, even torture. Colonel Burmester would be contacted to implicate me. I could be sent from here to Russia, or elsewhere. How would I find you or protect you? I thought you understood.”

“I’m sorry. I thought only of the children, not what could happen to you.” It made such sense when he spoke it. Her head swirled, knees weak.

He slapped the papers on the table, eyes wide and sharp. “What else have you been doing behind my back?”

“Nothing, I swear.” She leaned on the chair for support; icy fear shot through her veins. “I’ll be careful from now on.”

“You must stop at once.” His glare sliced through her, but pain shadowed it. “Do you hear me?”

She knew she was defeated, and she had planned to give up her work. She couldn’t put him in jeopardy. Her body sagged. She struggled to breathe. “I won’t do it anymore. I was quitting anyway.”

He raked a hand through his dark-gold hair, eyes flashing. “How can I believe you? Who else is involved?”

“I can’t reveal that.” Please don’t insist on it!

“If you’re found out, there’s no telling what will happen.” He gripped her shoulders, his fingers on her flesh painful. “Again, how can I trust you? I want so much to. I thought we had something special.”

“We do. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t doing this when we first grew close.” Her eyes dampened with tears. “That sounds worse, but I was convinced my actions would help people.”

“You deceived me.” He cupped her face, his thumbs caressing her cheekbones, his expression miserable. Then he stepped away, shaking his head. “After I warned you, you continued.” He swept his hand toward the table, forehead creased. “Burn those documents and whatever else is up in the attic. Our lives are at stake.”

She nodded, straining to balance herself. “I will. I swear I won’t do it anymore. I want you safe from retribution. I was reckless.”

He stood tall, the commandant once more, as he reached for the doorknob. His flushed cheeks betrayed his upset. “Norah, I understand why you did it. But you should have told me before this. I cautioned you.” The disappointment on his face was obvious, the hurt in his eyes condemning her.

“I’ll destroy them, I promise.” She hated to do it, yet yearned to embrace him, to hold him close. Her pride, her confusion, kept her from begging that he stay. She must not collapse into a grasping female. “Forgive me.”

“I must return to my office. I’ve much to think about. The risks you took. You were dishonest, so heedless.” Words stern over an anxious voice, August was out the door, shutting it after him. A swift, stormy wind had blown over her, scattering her life like dried leaves.

“I didn’t lie. I just didn’t admit to the truth.” Heart like a rock weighing down her chest, she bent to the hearth, blinking back tears. A sob erupted. She must bring him back to her, make him understand. They still loved one another, didn’t they? But to destroy all her hard work. She felt frozen in place, her world crumbling. It’s not fair! I was doing the right thing. She reached into a basket for the kindling August had split for her, as her soul felt cleaved in two.

Diane lives in Western Pennsylvania with her husband and one naughty dachshund.

Now I interview my hero, who starts out an anti-hero, the German commandant from Outcast Artist in Bretagne, by Diane Scott Lewis

 

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I previously interviewed my heroine, Norah, to dig deeper into her character. Today it's my hero (who you'll think at first is an anti-hero) It's fun to talk to them out of the written context of the story. I hope you enjoy it.

Today I interview Major August von Gottlieb, the commandant of Southern Brittany.

Major, I understand that though you're in the German army, you don't care for Hitler's policies?

A tall, handsome man, with blond hair and blue eyes, the Major sits and adjusts his greenish-gray tunic with the Iron Cross. "I came to realize that Hitler is a madman. His policies are getting good people murdered. When I was assigned here, in this bucolic village, I found I wanted a different life. But it isn't so simple to leave the German army. I would be shot as a traitor, unless I plan carefully."

Have you set any of these plans into motion?

"First, unlike so many officers, I refused to starve the population by sending away the food supplies. I make certain the villagers keep their fair share."

Do any of your fellow officers resent this?

"Ja, they do, and are sure to make snide remarks to me. But I am in charge." He rubs his cleft chin, his gaze penetrating. "I was nearly killed in an incident having to do with Hitler a few years back. It's made me more determined."

I see the pain cross his features. Have your superiors complained?

"I was visited by one colonel, but I eased his mind. We need strong workers here to build the special port."

And what will this special port be used for?

His eyebrows rise. "I cannot divulge that yet. It is something I plan to, let's say, take care of so no further damage is done to England or France from this area."

A noble plan. I hear you have a young lady that you're interested in.

"I do. We are both in love." His eyes soften and he smiles tenderly. "She is English, so that is another strike against me. I hope we can manage a future together. I feel such passion for her. But there are many obstacles." He stares off for a moment. "She has had a rough time of it, and I want to soothe her and be a decent man for her."

The villagers have vilified Norah because of her relationship with you.

"I regret that. If I'm not destroyed by the peril to come, my wish is to escape with her to Switzerland and get married. I want to honor her. There are so many secrets and scheming around us." He fists his hand, his gaze troubled. "But I cannot tell anymore than that." Gottlieb stands and puts on his high-capped hat. "I have work to do. I must bid you good day, frau."

Well, thank you for speaking with me. I wish you both success. Hmmm, an officer working from within to sabotage Hitler. I'm intrigued how he will do it, and what needs to be 'taken care of.' Norah had mentioned a weapon in her interview.

Diane lives in Western Pennsylvania with her husband and one naughty dachshund.

The Making of a Trilogy by Eileen O'Finlan

 

Click here to download a FREE pdf of this book during the month of August!

When I wrote my debut novel, Kelegeen, historical fiction set in Ireland during the Great Hunger (aka Potato Famine) I wasn't planning on writing a sequel. I thought all the way through that it would be a stand alone. It wasn't until I completely rewrote the first draft that thoughts about what might happen to the characters after the story's ending started coming to mind. I was nearing the end of the rewrite when I made the decision that a sequel was necessary. I even ended Kelegeen in such a way as to lend itself to a continuation.

Next came Erin's Children. Erin, in this case, is not a character, but refers to Ireland (think erin go bragh), and her children are those who emigrated to escape starvation. 

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My first inclination was to set it in Boston as many Irish settled there at the time. I live in central Massachusetts so Boston is just under two hours from me. I figured I could get out there a few times as part of my reseach. Fortunately for me, I mentioned it to someone at work who told me of a great book about the history of the Irish in Worcester. 

Worcester is the city in which I work and very close to where I live. I changed my mind and, instead, decided to set it here, and I am so glad I did. What a great time I had researching the history of the city in which I've spent the majority of my life! I learned so many fascinating things, many of which I was able to incorporate into the story. After publication, I even had a request from a group of readers to give a walking tour of one of the sections of the city in which a large portion of the book takes place. It was a real joy and a wonderful way to connect with readers.

As with Kelegeen, when I finished Erin's Children I thought I was done with these characters. But, also, as with Kelegeen, they refused to let me go. So now it's on to research for the third in this Irish trilogy. I can hardly wait to dive into more of Worcester's past. This time the focus for the book will be on the next generation, so I'll be looking at the post American Civil War era of the 1870s and 1880s. 

For many writers of historical fiction the research is just as enjoyable as the writing, and I am no exception. Now that I have completed work on my next historical novel, The Folklorist, which will be released by BWL Publishing in October of 2023, I can focus on a deep dive into late Victorian-era Worcester. Yes!

I interview my character, Norah. How could she find a connection to the German Commandant? by Diane Scott Lewis

 

To purchase Outcast Artist in Bretagne, click HERE

It is fun to dig deeper into your characters. An interview to let them speak for themselves is always intriguing to write. Here they can talk directly, and answer uncomfortable questions if need be.

Interviewer. "I'm sitting here with Miss Norah Cooper in the small village of Saint Guenole in Brittany. Miss Cooper, you were trapped in France after the Germans invaded, visiting your cousin for personal reasons, and now you just want to go home to England. You're an artist and decided to draw the Major, the man in charge of the occupation. Why was that?"

"He offered me a great amount of money, and I needed to pay my way." Norah brushes a hand through her strawberry-blonde hair in quick strokes. "My cousin's husband threatened to demand I leave. I was eating their food. But I really had no place to go at the time."

"You didn't find this idea with the Major repulsive?"

"Yes, at first. But the Major surprised me." Norah smiles, looking a little embarrassed. "He was very kind, and then I learned a secret about him that really changed my mind."

"And what was that?"

"He hates Hitler's policies. Plus he brought more food to the village after I asked him to." Norah sighs. "He wanted the war to end and live a peaceful life."

"Then an attraction grew between you two?"

"Slowly." Norah gazes around. "When we got to know each other better. I never thought I'd find anyone who cared about me as much as he does. He felt the same after an arranged marriage. His wife died two years ago. And I had my...unfortunate experience."

"Weren't you afraid of being ostracized? Shunned by your family?"

"I am ostracized. The villagers, my cousins. My family in England doesn't yet know. It is very difficult. I went to live in the gardener's abandoned cottage." Norah leans close. "The Major, August, he told me a terrible weapon was on its way. And he planned to disable it so it wouldn't be used against my country."

"I see. Very commendable. Then you fell in love with him?"

Norah smiles again, though it's a little sad. "We fell in love. As crazy as that sounds. I discovered the man he really is, inside. We have a passionate relationship. But I knew it would be perilous."

"Do you have plans for a future?"

"He has to complete his sabotage. I got involved with forging documents to help escaping Jews. We kept secrets. But our love is strong." Norah presses her fingers to her cheeks. "We speak of escaping to Switzerland. But there are so many obstacles. Threats of arrest. Even a firing squad. I still hope we can have our happy ending. Or maybe I'm being naïve."

Interviewer. "I hope you can find a happy ending in the midst of war. Thank you for explaining your situation to me."


Diane lives in Western Pennsylvania with her husband and one naughty dachshund.

A Desperate Plea, my upcoming release, Outcast Artist in Bretagne, by Diane Scott Lewis

 

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My book's release has been moved to May!

Click HERE to pre-order the e-book.

Enjoy an excerpt. Norah's young cousin runs down the beach to show how fast he is, but a German sentry grabs him and hauls him away. Norah must confront the Commandant for the boy's release.

At the Town Hall, a guard stepped before her, eyes flinty, his rifle tight against his chest. “What is your business here?”

Norah tensed, her arms rigid at her sides. The ugly swastika flag flapped above her, adding to her distress. “I need to speak to Major von Gottlieb.”

“For what purpose?” The young man’s chin lifted higher, his French adequate.

“It’s urgent.” She swallowed hard. Each moment counted for her to rescue Jean. “Tell him it is Miss Cooper, the woman who draws birds. He knows who I am. I must speak to him, please.”

The guard hesitated. She took a step closer, breath heaving. He finally turned, stepped into the alcove, knocked, and entered the office.

He returned after a minute and motioned with a slice of his hand for her to follow.

Norah walked stiffly in, her courage waning, but her resolve anchored. She’d never been in this office before. And now with the Germans in charge, changing everything—and a child’s fate in her hands.

Major von Gottlieb stood behind his desk, tall and imposing, his expression curious. “What can I do for you, Fräulein Cooper?”

“My young cousin did something foolish, but he’s only a child.” She rubbed her knuckle along her collarbone and explained what happened in barely controlled words. “Please, don’t let anyone hurt him. He’s ten years old, and impulsive.” Tears dampened her eyes, despite her effort to appear tenacious. “Release him to his mother. It’s all a mistake.”

She saw the Major’s gaze change from surprised to concerned.

“Extraordinary. I will investigate at once. Wait here, Fräulein.” The Major thrust on his hat and indicated the chair in front of the desk. He marched from the room and shut the door. She heard strong words exchanged in German, the shuffle of feet.

Norah sank into the leather seat, unsure what to do. Her heart beat so fast, her chest ached. She glanced about the office. A picture of Hitler on the wall made her cringe. On a glass-fronted bookcase full of books was a smaller picture of a woman. Broad-faced but attractive. The Major’s wife?

Mahogany furniture filled the cramped room. The desk was neat, with a tan leather inlay. The room smelled pleasant, of lemon oil. She tried to balance herself as her mind spun.

A small table held a partially finished jigsaw puzzle. She stood to see what it was, to distract her upset.

The door opened behind her. She nearly jumped.

Diane lives in Western Pennsylvania with her husband and one naughty dachshund.

Walk In Beauty

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Dine Woman, 1905

In beauty I walk

With beauty before me I walk
With beauty behind me I walk
With beauty above me I walk
With beauty around me I walk
It has become beauty again
It has become beauty again
It has become beauty again
It has become beauty again

Hózhóogo naasháa doo
Shitsijí’ hózhóogo naasháa doo
Shikéédéé hózhóogo naasháa doo
Shideigi hózhóogo naasháa doo
T’áá altso shinaagóó hózhóogo naasháa doo
Hózhó náhásdlíí’
Hózhó náhásdlíí’
Hózhó náhásdlíí’
Hózhó náhásdlíí’

Here in the US, Columbus Day has ben replaced by Indigenous Peoples' Day, celebrating the first peoples of lands throughout the globe.

I am so grateful to my Huron and Chippewa grandmothers and all the native people who have welcomed me into their lives and shared their culture. I could not have written these novels without their guidance and encouragement. 

Deep gratitude and a hail and farewell  to our precious John Wisdomkeeper who has been such a friend to all of us here at BWL publishing.  He walks in beauty.