The Ancestral Pen

  Grab your coffee. It's newsletter time, and I'm elbow-deep in apples. This morning I'm starting the final preserve of the season—apple cider. My mom's farm blessed me with another harvest, and I've spent weeks transforming those apples into butter, sauce, and fermented goodness. But cider? Cider is the grand finale. I'll cut up every last apple, toss them in my roaster with oranges, cinnamon, cloves, and allspice, then let the whole glorious mess roast for twenty-four hours. My house will smell like spiced heaven. Tomorrow I'll jar it up, and that'll be it. Canning season: complete. Well, almost complete. There's still jelly later, but we don't talk about that yet. Here's what I'm thinking about as I prep these apples: finishing is its own art form. It's not the thrilling part. It's not the first bushel of harvest or the electric rush of a new story idea. Finishing is the patient work—the slow simmer, the careful stir, the momen...

  And no, I'm not talking about a ghost story or other forms of woo-woo. I'm writing this newsletter on my laptop while jars of applesauce, apple butter, and fermented apples cool on the counter. My daughter just came in from collecting eggs, warning me that Butt Head (yes, that's really his name) is being particularly aggressive today. In my upcoming novel,  The Rancher's Healing at Pack Saddle Ranch , there's a scene where Evelyn battles a vicious rooster with a broomstick. That scene came straight from my experience with Butt Head. We literally keep a stick by the coop door for exactly that purpose. This is why I write historical fiction. One Foot in the Past, One in the Future From age four to sixteen, my family belonged to an Old Fashion Pentecostal church in California—yes, that was literally its name. We dressed like we were from 1920, gardened, raised goats, rabbits, and chickens. But we weren't Amish. We had cars, a microwave, and here's what I'...

  Meet Evelyn Bennett. She's a city girl. A nurse. Completely out of her element on a rural Idaho ranch in the middle of nowhere. She was just doing her job—caring for a man foolish enough to blow himself up with dynamite. But to do that job properly, she needed to whip three bachelor brothers into shape and scrub their filthy house from top to bottom. Otherwise, the man she was charged with healing would never survive his own home, let alone his injuries. In this week's excerpt, Evelyn has been scrubbing for days. She's attacked ash and grime, fought off a vicious rooster, been kicked by a cow, and transformed that neglected house into something livable. She's finally hauling out the ash bucket, probably feeling pretty accomplished... And then the wind decides to remind her who's boss. Wind chose that moment to gust. Ash exploded back in her face, coating her dress, her hair, everything she'd just cleaned behind her. She stood frozen, arms still extended, looki...

I wrote this post back in 2009 on my other blog, "Untangled Family Roots." This is one of my favorite treasures from my genealogy research days. Some day I'll write a book about this experience and Grandma's life. However, it's one of those books that I keep starting and then putting down because it holds a special place in my heart, and I want it to be perfect.  ----------------------------------- 2009 As a result of more than two years of research, I was finally able to give my husband's grandmother the gift she had most wanted. When she was a child, her mother, Flora May   (Manning) Conner died after giving birth. Grandma didn't even know if the child was a girl or a boy, and all she ever wanted was to find where her mother was buried and return to visit her. After I found where she was buried at the Llano Cemetery Amarillo Potter County Texas, USA Plot: Section 74 Lot 46 Space 1, my sister and mother-in-law were able to take her on a trip to Texas and ...

  Banjo Roads and Dynamite Dreams: Inspiration in the Wild Last week, I shared that I was writing a new trilogy, Pack Saddle Ranch. This week I have exciting news! You can now grab your copy of  Until We Meet Again  (link below in Button), the prequel, to tide you over until I finish  Healing the Rancher's Heart . I'm close, so close. Today, I plan to complete the last chapter and then proceed directly to editing. If you've been with me through my last book series, you know this is the part I dread the most: editing. It's painful! I sit here agonizing over whether I've chosen the right word, if the message comes across clearly, or if this scene needs a little comedic break. The agony goes on. Please grab your copy of  Until We Meet Again , and I would greatly appreciate some feedback. Please let me know your thoughts on the short story. I'll have the first book ready for you next month. Speaking of next month, we have a baby shower planned, which reminds me that...

  My Motivation This makes all the hard work so worth it. It was made even sweeter because my husband's 90-something-year-old aunt took the time to sit and write this to me. She loves my Woolsey Saga books, which I'm already thinking of adding another book to that set before our country celebrates its 250th anniversary next July, so stay tuned. I'm sure you can guess which era that ancestor will come from. Sadly, the day after I captured this image, our German Shorthair, Scout, snagged it off my desk, and thought it made a really good snack for him. Writers of the Future Contest I entered my first writing contest, ever. If nothing else, I'm proud that I forced myself out of my comfort zone and wrote a short story in a genre I don't write in. It was certainly a challenge, but I managed to do it. I won't be able to make it available until after the contest is concluded, but you'll be the first to know when my ghost and time travel story is released. My Next Tr...