Being You Through the Hard Times

When I was asked if I’d be willing to blog again on Seekerville, I choked. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to appear in ‘public’ as an author, but I knew I had to step out again, and what better place to do it than with a bunch of lovelies who’ve been some of my biggest supporters over the years. Ladies, I love you, and I want to honor you for all that you give to the writing community. There is none comparable to you ladies. You are the epitome of high class and grace. You are Christ-like, and you are appreciated. May the favor of God shine down on each of you during this new year, in your families and your writing careers. May God, grant you each the desires of your hearts, and the reconciliations where it is needed. 

Bless you, ladies. 



When I first started writing, somebody, possibly an editor, told me that some of the best works are the ones with ‘you’ on the pages. I never fully understood that until I began working on edits for my first contracted book, which by the way, I sold through a Seekerville contest. As I read over notes and read the story afresh for the first time in years, I saw multiple little things of me, a me who had gone through what I had thought, and what probably had been, the toughest season in my life. 

The emotion, the scriptures God had laid on my heart, the hope, the forgiveness, the internal fight to keep my flesh from winning over the spirit man. It was all there on the pages of a book that I had been told would never sell. That was in 2013.

And like a snowball rolling down Mount Everest, life seemingly ran out of control. Through it, somehow, I turned in two more books. Maybe not quite as efficient as I’d hoped, but given the circumstances, I’m certain it was still an accomplishment, and yes, I allowed my emotions to ooze all over the pages. Fortunately, I had awesome editors who toned me down. ;)

But then after some major curveballs were thrown for my husband’s mom and her husband, leaving me physically and emotionally drained, I didn’t want to be me. 

In February of 2015, as I sat in the infectious disease doctor’s office with my mother-in-law waiting for her all clear, my father-in-law was at his oncologist’s office getting a clean bill of health. He was weak, much smaller than he had been, and still couldn’t eat more than a few bites of soft food, but he was cancer free and didn’t need to return for another year.

I exhaled the breath I’d been holding for the last year and a half. 

And I feared inhaling. Between all the craziness of those few years, I wanted to hold onto that exhale of relief for as long as possible. I even grounded my in-laws from any and all hospitals within a 60-mile radius. I’m not kidding. 

I hid. I hid from phone calls, from emails, from family, and from writing. Somehow, I thought that if I wrote, nothing but the yucky emotions I had experienced the previous year would come out, and that just wasn’t me. That had been me at one time, but I had moved beyond the whole woe-is-me, waiting for the other shoe to drop, person. Sooo, I just didn’t write, not with any intentional effort. Occasionally I popped my head into my writer’s hat only to happily be pulled out again by some tyranny of the urgent giant. 

At some point, I’m not sure when, I decided it was okay to start breathing and to quit looking over my shoulder. At some point, I decided that no matter what, I would carry the fruits of the Spirit. At some point, I knew beyond any doubt that God’s goodness was never, and would never be, dependent upon my circumstances. 

At some point, I decided it was okay to find me again, or to just be me outside of a hardened shell of fear. At some point, I decided it was okay to write again and allow my emotions, whatever they were, to pour onto the page. After all, an author can’t edit it a blank page, right? Besides, layering pieces of me onto blank pages made great stories, right?

At some point, I decide enough is enough, I was an author and I needed to write. So, I wrote. I went on an impromptu vacation with my parents and one of my daughters, and I breathed. I played in the ocean, and I breathed. I took pictures, listened to my daughter play her guitar while a homeless man sang House of the Rising Sun. I wrote, and I breathed. This was the me I loved. This was the me I wanted to be, the healed, whole, happy me after all the chaos of the previous years. 

We returned to Kansas, and I was ready to embrace my life and write full-time. Two short weeks after we returned, I received another phone call, but I knew. I had known before I even left. I think we all knew. My father-in-law, a man I had grown to care and love deeply over those years of his battle with cancer, had started coughing and it wasn’t a normal cough, and he’d grown weaker, this a short 7 months after his cancer free diagnosis. His doctor sent him home, and less than a week later he passed away. That entire week, as I sat with my mother-in-law and as I cared for my father-in-law in his final days, I wrote. In between family coming to say their last good-byes, I wrote. Through memories and blurred vision, I wrote. Through emotion, I wrote. Pieces of me filled blank pages. 

In the early morning hours of November 17, 2015, I turned in the first real proposal I had turned in in a long while and then drove to my in-laws. It was evident when I arrived he wouldn’t make it through the day, he didn’t make it past noon. I stared out the picture window watching a lone male deer approached the fence line across the road through the misty fog as I listened to my father-in-law's last breaths.  

I sold that book, and purposely gave myself a tight deadline. I wasn’t going to allow the fear of being me own my life. I needed to write and I gave myself permission to breathe. My husband and I maintained our full ministry schedule, and I helped him through the busy Christmas season. One day we were driving down a road, and I told him that if all that we had been through the last few years was the worst we’d ever go through, we were blessed. 

There was peace, and a sense of accomplishment, pride, and excitement. We survived. And I hadn’t lost myself in those tough seasons. God had shown me that if I removed fear from the equation, I would be all right.

On March 15th, I turned in my manuscript and shortly thereafter, my husband started showing some signs of tiring. He’d been trying to keep the business running, full-time ministry, and doing all the things he could for his mom that his step-dad had done. We discussed closing the shop and I knew I needed to move more into a full-time writer mode, something I had tried and failed to do because I allowed too many things to take precedence. We never guessed, never really saw it coming, or maybe we did and chose not to see it, but on May 20th, after being treated for an ulcer, my husband was diagnosed with cancer. As I sat vigil during his times of rest I prayed, I read the Bible, and I wrote. On June 20th, less than a month after his diagnosis, he passed away. 

If I am to be honest with you, I’d tell you that I haven’t written much in the last six months, but it’s not because I am fearful of being me during this toughest season of my life. In fact, I’ve embraced me, the sad me, the missing me, the happy me, the peaceful me, the mother of somewhat orphaned children me, the widow me. I wanted to write, I needed to write. I burned to write. However, there are a lot of things that come with death, especially when a business needs closing, and your mother-in-law decides it’s time to sell her house and move out of state. May God bless her greatly. 

Man, we had a lot of tears and laughter in the last year, especially the last 6 months. I also tried to maintain the momentum of the ministry my husband and I were a part of because I knew the people my husband ministered to had loved him and grieved him. They were watching me and my daughters, but especially me. Every time I gave a message 'they got me,' no matter how many times I intended otherwise. One time I stood in front of homeless men hardened by life, ex-gang members, veterans, and addicts and I gave them me, the me who tried to be strong for the kids and the family, the me who wanted to cry but couldn’t, the me who wanted to hear ‘I love you’ one more time. There wasn’t a dry eye. Somehow my message touched their core and moved them. And that is what our writing should do for our readers. 

The week after my husband moved to Glory, I was asked by one of my co-pastors if I thought my writing would change and I knew the answer was yes. My writing is a constant evolution of me. When I evolve, and grow in the Lord, so does my writing. That is something I’ve come to understand and not fear. If I’m carrying myself in the fruits of the Spirit, it’s okay to be me through the hard seasons, just as it’s okay for you to be you through the hard seasons. The hard seasons have taught me to trust and depend on God in ways I never thought possible. The Lord is the biggest part of me and when I trust in His guidance and provision, my best stories are yet to come, especially if they have me all over them and create an emotional impact that ministers and sticks with the reader for a long while. 

We all have tough seasons. I want to encourage you to embrace them, to find rest in them, the kind of rest that comes from fully trusting God. 

If you’re a reader, what is one of the most memorable scenes you’ve read that has stuck with you? If you’re a writer what is one of the most emotional scenes you’ve written and where was it birthed from? 

Christina Rich art.

Christina Rich is a mother of four children, a grandmother of one, a romance author with Love Inspired Historical, Forget Me Not Romances, a photographer, and a painter, and she is currently working on several non-fiction books. She teaches writing workshops Writing for God’s Glory and classes on breaking word curses and breaking ungodly soul-ties. She is excited about a new adventure with P.E.R.K. Passionate Evangelicals Restoring Kindness and recently began Rich Ministries to carry on the legacy her husband began before he graduated to heaven, which focuses on reconciling people to God through Jesus Christ, helping equip the saints for spiritual warfare, and preparing them for the return of Jesus.

You can connect with her on Facebook at Author Christina Rich and on Twitter @Christinainspy




The Negotiated Marriage

A Business Arrangement 

When the railroad pushes to buy her land, orphaned Cameron Sims will do anything to keep the only home she and her sisters have ever known. Even if she must marry a stranger. But she's determined her agreement with the mysterious, dashing man—who's unlike anything the Kansas railroad town has ever seen—will remain simply business. 

Duncan Murray doesn't want a wife. He wants Sims Creek, a sanctuary that can help him forget a troubled childhood. But his reluctant, and captivating, bride-to-be is key to making his dreams a reality. And despite their business arrangement, Camy and Duncan might be signing on the dotted line for true love…

Christina is generously gifting us for the holidays. Leave a comment today for your chance to receive, a copy of The Negotiated Marriage (two winners), Christina's entire Love Inspired backlist and her current release AND a print of Christina Rich art (one winner), Christina Rich art print (one winner). For a writer who lets us know they want it, a first chapter critique (one winner).

Merry Christmas from Christina Rich!

Seven + Villager Success Stories

Janet  here. Since Seekerville's inception seven years ago, one by one all the Seekers set sail from Unpubbed Island to the Mainland of Published Fiction. Our goal for Seekerville was to help others do the same by emphasizing the value of contests and sharing craft and inspiring posts. In those early days, 30 comments delighted us, and most of those were ours. LOL Now the blog has over 11,000 followers and almost a million and a half page reviews. God has grown Seekerville and all of us as we share the ups and downs of the writers’ journey. 

   

To celebrate Seekerville’s 7^th Birthday, I asked seven + Villagers, if they'd like to share how Seekerville helped them achieve their dream of publication. I got a resounding yes! So grab a cup of Helen's coffee and let's party with these lovely ladies!  

Keli Gwyn, Family of her Dreams, Love Inspired Historical, June 2015. A Bride Opens Shop in El Dorado, California

Keli Gwyn and Janet

When I dusted off my four-decade-long dream of being a writer, I had no idea what I was doing. I sat holed up in my office cranking out five lackluster stories in two years. Although my joy was abundant, my knowledge of craft was abysmal. All that changed when I finaled in the 2008 Golden Heart®. A wonderful woman named Tina Radcliffe found me and asked me to be a blog guest at Seekerville. Because I was a florescent green newbie writer and a technophobe, I had several questions for Tina. The first was, "what is a blog?" She answered that question and has answered many more since. I was warmly welcomed by all the Seekers and Seekervillagers and have learned oodles from you talented people. Ruthy was my Lighten Up 101 instructor and taught me how to make this writing gig a lot more fun. Missy, one of my contest judges, gave me a great idea on how to improve the story that became my debut novel. I won a critique from Julie, and she gave me awesome pointers on that same story's opening. I could go on and on, but I think you get the idea. Seekerville rocks! Happy seventh birthday! Here's to another great year to come.

Virginia Carmichael, A Home for her Family. Love Inspired, October 2014

I've always loved Seekerville for introducing me to great new authors, but as someone who just started writing, every day seems like an intensive writing course. I've learned so much in Seekerville! As for tangible help, I won a fancy printer during The New Year’s party one year. This was back when it seemed like most agents still wanted paper submissions. I had a terrible old printer that mostly ate paper and never printed anything legibly, so I was THRILLED to win. I sent out hundreds of queries and lots of partials with that printer! Then, I finaled in the Seekerville Query Contest with Melissa Endlich, and she requested full manuscripts from all of us winners. She called to say they wanted to acquire it in Nov 2011. I signed my first contract through Seekerville!

Sue Mason, Healing the Widower’s Heart, Love Inspired, February 2015

Ruth Tredway, Helen Gray, Sue Mason, Janet

I most definitely credit the fabulous ladies of Seekerville with my success as a writer! It all started when I became a Golden Heart finalist in 2008. Tina Radcliffe tracked me down and invited me to share a little about my story on her blog. I had no idea who she was or even what a blog was, but I jumped on board. From then on, I became a faithful follower of Seekerville. Not only do they provide fantastic information about the craft of writing, they often feature agents and editors, and host contests. This was the case back in October 2012 when Love Inspired editor, Elizabeth Mazer, was featured in a post which included a First Page contest. I didn't plan to participate since my contemporary trilogy was on submission at White Rose Publishing, and my other stand-alone romance, Wyndermere House, (ironically my 2008 GH entry) had already been rejected by a different LI editor. Then Tina sent me an email pretty much ordering me to get something in to the contest! So I took another look at Wyndermere House, made a few adjustments, and sent it in! To make a long story short, I received a request from Elizabeth, and now 2 years later, my manuscript is being released as Healing the Widower’s Heart (February 2015). Without Tina (as well as all the encouragement and prayers from the wonderful women at Seekerville), I wouldn't be able to call myself a Love Inspired author! Thank you SO MUCH Seekerville!

Jessica Nelson, Family on the Range, Love Inspired Historical, June 2014

In 2007 I started my first manuscript with the intent of publication. As soon as I waded into the cyberworld of writers, I discovered Seekerville. A blog dedicated to helping writers on the path and a home for those who didn't know what they were doing (me!), the Seekers' posts on craft, contests, submission etiquette and encouragement soon had me hooked! Many of the Seekers still resided on Unpubbed Island. Thanks to their intelligent posts and loving personalities, I gained confidence in my ability to seek publication and to actually achieve it. They made traditional publication seem possible when many others said it was impossible.

I am so thankful I stumbled across the Seekerville years ago. Long Live the Seekers!

Jan Drexler, A Mother for His Children, Love Inspired Historical, August 2014

What can I say about Seekerville? Four years ago, my journey to publication started with a vague idea of a story, a thirty-year-old bachelor’s degree in Creative Writing, and twenty-some years of homeschooling and raising children under my belt. Then I stumbled upon Seekerville while looking for tips on how to write. Well, I say I “stumbled upon” this blog, but I know God led me here. From the beginning I knew I was facing a huge learning curve, but the gracious ladies on Unpubbed Island made gentle suggestions and offered enthusiastic encouragement. I entered contests, developed writing goals and discipline, and watched my word count grow. I entered more contests – including the great ones here on Seekerville that led to my first book landing on a Love Inspired editor’s desk and led to signing with an agent. And the Seekers cheered every step of the way. I listened to their advice, learned from their blog posts, and kept working. I signed my first contract with Love Inspired in April, 2012, and this summer signed a three book contract with Revell. My publication journey may have been possible without the Seekers, but I can’t imagine how long I would have struggled in my writing cave without their wisdom and encouragement opening doors I didn’t even know existed. I look forward to many, many more years of being a Seekervillager. Happy Birthday, Seekerville!

Helen Gray, OzarkWedding, Heartsong Presents, September, 2014

My profile says I've been hanging around Seekerville since November, 2009, but I was “Anonymous” for a few months before that, until I learned how to set up an account. During those years I have printed and utilized a lot of How-To craft tips, and I've never been allowed to feel lonely at ACFW conferences. I've also benefited from Seeker critiques. Of the series I had release this year, Mary critiqued the first chapter of book one, Tina critiqued the first chapter of book two, and Grammar Queen edited the first chapter of book three. And I lived to tell about it! In addition to all that, they drink my virtual coffee, even though I have no idea how to make the stuff in reality.

Christina Rich, The Warrior's Vow, Love Inspired Historical, July 2014

SEEKERVILLE, first, happy birthday!

Second, I wouldn't be where I am today without you. It was during your birthday in 2011 I received a request from Emily Rodmell at Love Inspired. In 2012 I received the call! I can't say thank you enough for the continued support and encouragement as I travel beyond the island.

Mary Curry, writing as Cate Nolan, will debut her Christmas book in October, 2015,

identified seven reasons she’s thankful for having the Seekers in my life.

Friends - Some of my dearest writing friends are people I've met through Seekerville. We all know how lonely a writer's life can be, but the Seekers bring a light of friendship into that loneliness. I thank them for their friendship.

Faith - Through word, deed and prayer, the Seekers live their faith and inspire us to be the best we can be. Through prayers I've requested and prayers I didn't know about until afterward, I've been lifted so often by these lovely women. I thank them for their shared faith.

Craft - Seekerville is like one endless graduate course on how to write a book. It's the university from which we never want to graduate. The shared wisdom of the Seekers and their friends helps us strive and never settle for average. I thank them for sharing their knowledge.

Fun - It's not all serious! The one thing you know you can count on is that a day spent in Seekerville will be a day of happiness. From the New Year's Eve bash to the month long birthday party, Seekerville is a cheerful refuge. I thank the Seekers for the joy they bring each day.

Lynette Eason, Patty Smith Hall, Debby, Missy, Jessica Nelson

Family or Community -  I remember the first time I visited Seekerville. I feared it was some "in club" that I would forever watch from the outskirts. Little did I know that Seekerville is chock full of warmth and legendary hospitality. There are no strangers in Seekerville, only the friends we haven't gotten to know yet. I thank the Seekers for inviting us in and making us feel welcome.

Prizes - Not to seem mercenary, ;) but seriously! The Seekers are so generous with prizes offering so many free books, gift cards, and treats. I still drink my tea from the mug Tina sent as my very first newbie villager prize. I thank you for your generosity.

Hope and Support - "And the greatest of these is love."  Through their love for God, each other, and the villagers, the Seekers show by example how to be a love-driven, faith-based community. They never stint on time or effort, advice or prizes ;) Whether it's brandishing a whip or offering candy, the Seekers have our backs and I hope they know we have theirs. They make this journey seem possible and when you reach your goal, there's no better place to celebrate than Seekerville!  I thank the Seekers for years of support and celebration and for being the best kind of community a writer could yearn for.

Nancy Kimball, Chasing the Lion

Years ago, before all the Seekers had made it off unpubbed island, I'd written this "book" and had no idea what I was supposed to do next. Praise the Lord for Google and Seekerville. From the first post I read there, I felt like I'd come home to a place I'd never been before. I jumped in right away and soaked up information like a Persian rug does spilled wine. There was so much to learn but when I began commenting, these "real authors" took an interest in the "new person" and were so welcoming. Encouraging. That sense of home and belonging deepened as I continued to make my daily Seekerville stop for the next two years. I say with honesty Seekerville is where I learned about half of what I know about the craft of fiction and marketing. I made so many friends there and am blessed to have maintained those friendships even though life as a published author no longer affords me the time to spend in Seekerville I once did. I will always be grateful for the Seekers, and their continuing mission to support and encourage the up and coming author as much as the multi-published. I am published today with a very successful Indie debut, and mentoring an up-and-coming author, thanks largely to that early learning and shared community here in Seekerville. Thank you Seekers, for seven years and counting.


Patty Smith Hall, "Christmas Lessons," Christmas Traditions, October, 2014.     
                 .
Many will talk about how Seekerville has helped them to realize their dream of being a published writer, and they'd be correct. Cheryl Wyatt's post on scene development back in 2008 changed the way I wrote, and gave me the push I needed to finish my first published novel, Hearts in Flight. 

But it is the kindness of the Seekers that has touched my heart and made Seekerville feel like a second home. In early 2012, the doctors told me my spine could no longer support me and I would need surgery. The recovery period was anywhere from six months to a year, most which would be spent in a brace and on my back. Within days of my hospital release, I received my first card from one of the Seekers, then another and another. Every couple of days for the next few months, there would be a card or two waiting in my mailbox, encouraging me, letting know they were praying for my recovery. Those cards, and the notes written within, helped me through those first hard days of my recovery, and encouraged me to lean on God and to keep writing. A small kindness that still touches me today.

Thank you, ladies--and Happy Birthday, Seekerville!

Janet again. Thanks, ladies! Your sweet words bless and encourage us. Your success is such fun to celebrate! And offers hope to those working hard, who haven't yet received The Call. 

For breakfast I brought orange juice, crisp bacon and crunchy French toast dusted with powdered sugar and warm maple syrup. And of course there's birthday cakes with layers of chocolate, strawberry and yellow to nibble on all day. Leave a comment for a chance to win one of these author's books in either eBook or hard copy, author’s choice (we'll discuss your options) and a $10 Amazon gift card. 

Beating Repetition out of Dialogue Tags

with guest blogger Christina Rich

 If you’ve been around the writing world long enough you know there are a bunch of rules. Being the rule follower that I am, I tend to become obsessive. And, a little crazy when those rules change, especially when talking about dialogue tags. 

When I first started writing it seemed as if the rule of thumb was to be creative with your tags. He said/she said was no longer kosher.

“Jeremy,” she exclaimed as she ran toward him.

“No,” Old Mother Hubbard cried. “I can’t deal with another child. What will I feed them?”

Or what of this?

“Little pig, little pig, let me in,” Wolf demanded.

“No, no, not by the hair on my chinny, chin, chin,” Little Pig quivered.

“Then I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your house down,” Wolf growled

Soon we were hearing, STOP! What madness is this? Just use he said. It disappears. 

“Little pig, little pig, let me in,” Wolf said.

“No, no, not by the hair on my chinny, chin, chin,” Little Pig said.

“Then I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your house down,” Wolf said.

Really… I mean, really! I feel like with the constant repetition all I’m reading is said.  

I’ve said it before, we live in a fast food kind of world and as such we do need to accommodate our readers. We also live in a hyper-sense kind of world. Look at our 3-D movies. Filmmakers are doing all they can to bring their viewers into their world. Soon they theaters will have a smell machine, one that will bring tropical islands alive, the scent of rain, the stench of death.

As writers it’s our job to bring our readers into our world, so much so that they have some difficulty separating fact from fiction. Have you ever walked away from a book, wondering what the main characters were doing now? Wondering if they were driving that old pick-up down the dirt road to lay flowers at their mamma’s grave? Wondering if the butcher cut the right piece of meat for Miss Mable, or whether or not little Jimmy finally caught that big, elusive bass?

Those are usually the books that end up on my keeper shelf. The authors of these books have done their job. They’ve created great characters and utilized their words with optimal effectiveness. One way of creating this effect is by utilizing something called action beats.

“Little pig, little pig, let me in.” Wolf tapped his nails, one at a time, against the bright red door.

“No, no.” The door quivered with each of Pig’s words. “Not by the hair on my chinny, chin, chin.”

“Then I’ll huff, and I’ll puff,” Wolf licked his lips. “And I’ll blow your house down.” 

Now, I’m not saying we need to cut all he said/she saids from the manuscript, but by replacing some dialogue tags with action beats we get to know the character a little better. 

Let’s look at one of my works in progress, Rescuing the Fireman.

“Hey there.” The way his voice cracked it seemed like he was the one suffering from smoke inhalation, not her. He held up a lime green gym bag. “Myrtle packed a change of clothes for you. Thought you’d need them.”

Casey blinked, and if his imagination wasn’t running too wild, she may have even smiled a little. It was hard to tell with the oxygen mask over her face. He uncrossed his arms and jammed his hands into his pockets as he stood straight. Drawing in a deep breath, he rocked back on his heels and noticed his boots were several inches into Casey’s room. What would a few more hurt him?

He took a step in and made for the television set. “I Love Lucy. Great episode. Mind if I turn it up? Of course, you could probably recite the lines word for word, but since you’re not supposed to talk just yet—”

Was that him rambling on like a nervous kid? He glanced over his shoulder. Casey’s eyes danced with amusement. At least he was doing something right. He sat down in the chair near the foot of the bed and rested his elbows on his knees. “I uh, took the horses out to my dad’s. There’s plenty of room. He put up a new barn a few years ago.” He hesitated, knowing his next words could send her packing her bags and leaving Groverton for good.

 There isn’t one single he said in there and we get to know a little more about Levi, about his fears and mannerisms. These next few lines from the same scene show us a little more about him.

All the sudden the air in the room seemed thick, choking, too much like hand sanitizer. He removed his baseball cap and ran his fingers through his hair. “Look, I’m sorry. I should have gotten there sooner. If I hadn’t been in the old rig when the call came in maybe I would have. I should have—” 

The warmth of her fingers startled him to silence. He looked down to where she touched his arm. He hadn’t even realized he’d gotten up from the chair, let alone had neared her hospital bed. He dropped his chin to his chest. “Case—”

“I wondered where you’d gone off to. Half feared I’d have to walk all the way back to Groverton.” Myrtle hobbled into the room, her hand wrapped around a young woman wearing purple scrubs. “He doesn’t like hospitals much. Actually didn’t think he’d step foot past them twirling doors downstairs, but he did. And look at you now, Levi. All cozy with my niece.”

Levi’s face grew warm at Myrtle’s observation, and he pulled away from Casey’s reassuring touch. The instant separation was like waking up from a coma and finding out she’d left without so much as a good-bye. 

“Well, I uh, will just step outside.” He folded the bill of his ball cap. “Take your time, Myrtle.” His feet seemed to take on the weight of cement as he headed toward the door. He turned for one last look. Her grey eyes filled with concern, no doubt for the horses. “I’ll take care of them until you get out.” 

I might be a little bias, okay a lot, but I just love the way he folds the bill of his hat, and what about Myrtle? What sort of image do we get of her from the accompanying action beat? It paints her much better than a she said.

Here is a scene from my heroine’s point of view. We don’t get a lot about Casey, but we do see Levi’s father through her eyes and how he’s changed since she’d last seen him.

Casey had thought with the distance and the time apart she’d be over him. Obviously, she was wrong. She climbed the steps in front of Turner’s Hardware and opened the door. A cowbell, familiar, yet startling, jangled above her head.

“How can I help you?” A lanky, gray haired man appeared from behind blue drapes. He’d aged some. All right, quite a bit. He looked like a man who was barely surviving. A man going through the motions.

“Hello, Mr. Turner.” Adjusting the purse strap on her shoulder, she walked toward the counter. “I wanted to thank you for letting me use your pasture and barn until I can get ours rebuilt.”

He peered at her from over the rim of his glasses. His brows pulled downward.

 “Casey?”

“Yes, sir.”

Okay, now it’s your turn. Find a section in your manuscript where you have some dialogue tags and change them to an action beat. Feel free to share your before and afters.   

Christina Rich celebrates the debut of her Love Inspired Historical, The Guardian's Promise, with a giveaway to one commenter. Winner announced in the Weekend Edition.

 A Kingdom in Jeopardy

An evil queen and her royal guards will stop at nothing to find—and kill—the rightful heir to the throne of Judah. When their pursuit leads them to Mira’s village, only her father’s bond servant, Ari, a man shrouded in secrets, can keep Mira safe.

Abandoning his life as a temple guard and becoming an indentured servant was the only way Ari could protect young Joash, the true King of Judah, from Queen Athaliah. But his sacred duty prevents him from confessing his feelings for his master’s daughter. With the future of their nation on the line, Ari and Mira will risk everything to save their people.

And if you haven't read the interesting story behind the sale of this story to Harlequin, take a moment to read it here.

 Biography:
When she was younger, Christina Rich tried to dig herself to China, loved Three Billy Goats Gruff, and had an obsession with maps. She gave up her dig to China but still jumps at the chance to travel even if it's just down the road. She loves watching modern takes of fairytales and mythologies on the big screen and still has a huge obsession with maps. The older the better.

Born and raised in Kansas, where she currently lives with her husband and children, Christina loves to read stories with happily ever afters, research, take photos, knit scarves, dig into her ancestry, fish, visit the ocean, write stories with happily ever afters and talk about her family and Jesus.
 

SPEEDBO!

First Lines, Great Beginnings with Guest Christina Rich

Happy Birthday, Seekerville!!!! I’m honored to be invited to share it with you. For those of you who don’t know, I received a partial request from Emily Rodmell, and editor at Love Inspired, during Seekerville’s 4th birthday party. Exactly one year ago today, I received an email asking me to call Emily because she wanted to buy my story! My story!!!! So, take advantage of every opportunity, before and after you're published.

Now, on to my blog post.

“Weak first lines greet us like limp handshakes.”
                Donald Maass ~ Writing the Breakout Novel (workbook)

If you’ve entered or judged a contest you know the importance of first lines being great. As writers we need to hook because the reader wants to be hooked. From the moment I began writing I understood this whole hooking thing. However, it took me a little longer to understand that my opinion of a great first line was just that, my opinion. An opinion which often differs from other readers.

Take a look at my original first lines from my yet to be contracted book Love at Twenty Paces.

At the age of eleven, Darbigal O'Donnell never thought she’d grow to be anything other than what her parents had formed her to be, a God-fearing wife and a diligent mother. But all that changed when her parents fell from their pulpit in search of gold.

I absolutely loved those words. Yes, I was married to them. Married to them through nine contests where almost every judge commented on how those words weren’t as lovely as I had thought they were. I still love that beginning, but I finally caved.

A low rumble rolled through the stillness of the hot afternoon and vibrated Darbigal O’Donnell’s frayed nerves.

Those judges weren’t being mean in their criticism. They weren’t trying to sabotage my dreams of being published.

It wasn’t until after I received the call with an offer to buy The Guardian’s Promise and sailed off Unpubbed Island that I actually began studying what industry professionals were saying about first lines.

According to Mahesh Grossman, coined a ghostwriting guru by Fox News, your submission is about one of two hundred in a week. Yes, I said a week, and if you write in one of the hottest genres like romance, a 1.438 billion dollar industry in 2012 (RWA), you can probably double that number. Grossman goes on to say that, “Agents have a different mission: rule out as many manuscripts as possible so they can spend more time reading the best stuff.”

When it’s put that way, it makes this author want to try harder to write great beginnings, especially if I want to hook my readers (assistants, agents, editors and fans).

To add to the importance of why great beginnings are, well, important let’s look at what author Kaye Dacus says, “Most editors I’ve talked to or heard speak on panels say that they usually know by the end of the first paragraph of a submission whether or not they’re going to want to see more or automatically put it on the “rejections” pile.”

Sadly, we live in a fast paced, fast food world. One that almost demands instant gratification for anything time consuming, especially when it comes to the written word. Let’s face it; readers’ lives are busier than ever. Calgon moments are rare. Judges know this. Agents and editors know this, too.



Ouch!

That doesn’t give a writer much time, does it?

And here is what my editor, Emily Rodmell has to say, “The best way to hook an editor or agent or, more importantly, a reader is to have a great opening line, paragraph and scene. Don’t bore them with backstory. Hook them with great action or dialogue.”

Here are some examples of what she’s talking about.

The only thing Hannah Hart hated more than mirrors was the spotlight. (From Her Family Wish by Betsy St. Amant)

Police Detective Austin Black glanced at the illuminated numbers on the dashboard clock as he raced up Oak Drive. Two in the morning. Not a good time to get a call about a missing child. (From Tracking Justice by Shirlee McCoy)

 “Who are you and what are you doing in my house?” (From His Mountain Miss by Karen Kirst)
“They are three completely different genres, but the one thing they have in common is that the opening makes you want to read on to see what happens. The characters aren’t ruminating about their past as they drive back into their hometown (the biggest cliché in romance novels). Instead, the reader is thrust into the action of the story.”

I love Emily; smart and spot on. Just look at Emily’s first example from Betsy St. Amant's Her Family Wish. It’s short and to the point. The reader is immediately pulled into the story because we want to know why she hates mirrors and what she’s doing in the spotlight. And wow, with Shirlee McCoy's opening lines, how can you not continue reading?

 So how do we do this? Can we just write dialogue and all will be right as rain?  "I'm not Italian." Gabriella Rosa Cavianto buried her face into her hands and sobbed. Or internal dialogue? Good riddance, Melvern, Ks.  Or have our hero/heroine do just anything? Donna chased her lucky penny as the torrential rain swept it toward rusty drainage gate.

Ehhh, maybe, maybe not. I'm thinking that those first lines could use some work. ;)

Sol Stein has a pretty good formula for writing first lines. He states in his book, Stein on Writing, that every opening paragraph has three goals.

1.    To excite the reader’s curiosity, preferably about a character or a relationship. 

2.    To introduce a setting.

3.    To lend resonance to the story

If you look back at the two different lines from Love at Twenty Paces, only one of them accomplishes these three goals, and it’s not the first one. So I guess the judges were right. And now that I’ve learned a bit I can look back at it and agree that yes, that original first line was kind of like a limp handshake. I’m hoping that’s not the case with my soon to be published book. Let’s take a look at it:

Ari’s heart hammered in his chest as the horses thundered toward the groves.

—The Guardian’s Promise (March 2014)

1.    Does it excite your interest about Ari?

2.    Does it introduce a setting?

3.    Does it resonate?

Given it’s only one line and not the entire paragraph, having one out of three isn’t bad. Here’s the paragraph in its entirety.

Ari’s heart hammered in his chest as the horses thundered toward the groves. Instinct had him reaching for where his sword should have been, a sword he had discarded years ago when he’d traded his life of a warrior for that of a bond servant. He’d been a fool to leave his weapons hidden away when danger lurked close at hand, but he could not very well play the servant dressed as a soldier.
The second line does a better job of introducing the setting, and the third sets the hook that I started in line one.

Here are the first lines from my contemporary work in progress Rescuing the Fireman, a story I’m falling head over heels in love with.

The wheels on the old fire truck propelled chunks of gravel into the fresh coat of paint as Levi Turner barreled down the road. Saving Myrtle Johnson’s home was much more important than ruining years of restoration and fundraising at Groverton’s fall festivals.

And now for some GREAT beginnings from some GREAT authors.

Mary Connealy

The Five Horsemen of the Apocalypse rode into the schoolroom. Late as usual.

 —Christy  nominated Calico Canyon

Beth McClellen would die before she missed Mandy's wedding.

That wasn't some cute saying. It was a plain bald fact. She would probably be pounded to death any minute now.

–Rita nominated Doctor in Petticoats

 The Alaskan Gold Rush had turned Seattle into a madhouse.

—Carol Award Winning Golden Days

 Sophie heard God in every explosion of thunder as she listened to the awesome power of the approaching storm. But there was more. There was something coming—something more than rain.

 —Petticoat Ranch

Belle Tanner pitched dirt right on Anthony's handsome, worthless face.

—The Husband Tree

The sharp crack of a cocking pistol brought Luke Stone's head around.

—Swept Away

Pam Hillman

Connor O’Shea braced his booted feet against the auction block and glared at the crowd gathered on the landing. Vultures. Ever’ last one o’ them

—Terms of Indenturement (Yet to be published)

Janet Dean

Elizabeth Manning had examined every option open to her. But in the end she had only one. Her heart lurched.

She had to run.

—The Substitute Bride

 Men. The bane of Elise Langley’s life.

—“Last Minute Bride” from the anthology, Brides of the West

The wrong man showed up to collect Hannah Parrish at the train station. And he was late.

—The Bride Wore Spurs

Julie Lessman

Sisters are overrated, she decided. Not all of them, of course, only the beautiful ones who never let you forget it

—A Passion Most Pure

Now this is how love should be -- nice and neat!

—A Hope Undaunted

Sweet thunderation -- deliver me from pretty men!

—Love at Any Cost

Merciful Providence … I smell a rat!

—Dare to Love Again

Close your mouth, Devin Caldwell, you'll swallow a fly.

—Dare to Hope (working title)

Debby Giusti

"The gathering dark clouds had mirrored Stephanie Upton's mood since she'd returned home to Freemont, Georgia, two days earlier.

—The Soldier’s Sister

Sandra Leesmith

“Dummy, dummy, dummy.” Skye Larsen dove for the ground and covered her head.

—Love’s Refuge (November 2013)

Drop down and pretend to be dead.

—Untitled, yet to be published

Glynna Kaye

At precisely one o’clock on a sunny September Saturday afternoon, Megan McGuire spied the pirate.

—Dreaming of Home

Missy Tippens

If there was one thing Josie Miller knew, it was the smell of a rich man. And whoever had just walked into the diner smelled like Fort Knox.

—Her Unlikely Family

Myra Johnson

“I’m in trouble, Kip.”

—A Horseman’s Hope

Now it’s your turn, if you’re feeling brave. Post your first lines/opening paragraph in the comments and let’s see if you’ve accomplished Stein’s three goals. For you readers, you can post first lines from your favorite books. I'll be giving away two 5 page critiques. Just let me know you would like to be entered. Winner announced in the Weekend Edition.

 Christina Rich was born and raised in Kansas, where she currently lives with her husband and children, Christina loves to read stories with happily ever afters, research,  take photos, knit scarves, dig into her ancestry, fish, visit the ocean, write stories with happily ever afters and talk about her family and Jesus.

Her debut, The Guardian's Promise, releases from Love Inspired Historical March 2014.




 You can find her at:

 www.authorchristinarich.com 

christinarich.wordpress.com 

www.facebook.com/christina.rich.90

twitter.com/ChristinaInspy

More Party Details Can Be Found Here.

"Really, I Sold!" with Guest and Debut Author, Christina Rich

Take delight in the Lord, 

and He will give you the desires of your heart.

 Psalm 37:4 (NIV)

A few weeks back, Myra posted a blog, “That is SO Five Years Ago!” Something in her post really resonated with me. “I was at the end of my writing rope and ready to give up hope of ever becoming a published novelist.”

Amen, Sister. I am so with you there. *wipe tears from my eyes*

I was still reeling from the fact that God hadn’t opened the doors for me to attend ACFW. I mean, I was more ready now than I had ever been. Two complete manuscripts, desire, passion, determination, that sixth sense that said I had to go to Texas to sell a book. I had it all, well, except confidence and the finances. 

That’s okay though, at least it was on Monday, Wednesday and Friday when I trusted God’s timing. The rest of the days, not so much. God and I had many a conversation as to whether or not I was bipolar or having a mid-life crisis. But in the quiet of the night, while I counted sheep and said my night time prayers, He’d say, “Trust me.”

I finally hitched up my big girl panties and trudged back into the murky waters of limbo. I had no idea where to go or what to do. After a few more tears and a bit of foot stomping, and some great advice from one of the most awesomest people I’ve ever come across, but only because she owns a Harley ;), I decided to take a break from the historicals and give Love Inspired Suspense’s Fast Track a go.

During this time I took in everything Seekerville had to offer with all the excellent blog posted to the site. Light bulbs flashed left and right. Applying what I learned, I worked hard on a first suspense chapter, and then sent it to my critique group. The response was more than I could have hoped for. Most said it was my best work yet. I felt like a writer again.

It’s all good, yeah?

Yep! NaNoWriMo was a few days away. This pantser had a complete story plotted and was ready to go.

Screech! 

Hold up. Remember last October during Seekerville’s birthday party when they held a pitch contest? Well I had received a partial request from Emily Rodmell. A year ago this week I sent off that partial and then waited.

By the time June came around I thought for sure the mailman had tossed my manuscript to the dogs. After asking around, it was suggested I contact Emily. So I did. Turns out she’d sent me a request for a full back in February. Nothing like technical difficulties with your email provider. Or was it a God thing? If I’d have received that email when I should have I probably would have had a nervous breakdown. There were too many things happening in my personal life to deal with the excitement of a full request.

Anyway, I took the next month, made the requested changes and sent it back to her. Then forgot all about it, because you know, nobody was buying biblical romance. Okay, well maybe I didn’t forget about it, but I didn’t have high hopes, because, yeah, nobody was buying biblical romance.  

Well, I ended up in Texas. You see my sister-in-law was graduating nursing and my dear mother-in-law wanted to be there, so I escorted her. After several hours of flights and layovers I was sitting on the floor of my sister-in-law’s living room thinking about how awesome it was that she was fulfilling her dream, and if I’m to be honest, I was a little sad about how mine had yet to be. No sooner had the thought tripped through my brain I opened my email. And there it was at 10:13 p.m., an email that could only be one of two things, a rejection or an offer.

Everything after that, I’m sure was a bit comical. Just ask my mother-in-law, Tina and Ruthy. I mean, how does one react? How is one supposed to react? 

I called Emily the next day with pen and paper in hand. All I remember saying is okay, multiple times. Even when she asked if it all sounded good to me. Okay. So she wants to buy my story. 
No, wait, she bought my story, right?

I sent a text out to my peeps. I sold!

I received phone calls and texts. My friends jumped up and down, they squealed, they cried. I was in a state of shock. Seriously, what happened? Was this real? I got an email from Twitter, good ‘ol social media, telling me Emily Rodmell was following me. Me! So, I hopped on over there and what did I see? A tweet about how she bought a new author for LIH a manuscript set in Biblical times. Hey, that’s me. 

You better believe I saved that baby in a screen shot. *g*

Hubs called me, “Well, you just had to go to Texas and sell a book, didn’t you?”  Yep, I knew it too. But it still hadn’t completely sunk in. I was getting sick and all I wanted to do was go home and sleep in my own bed and let hubs take care of me. It wasn’t until we were on the plane in Houston that it began to click. You see this lady sat next to me and struck up a conversation. She asked what I did and I gave her the typical answer, “I’m a stay at home mom.” My mother-in-law, God bless her, nudged me and said, “go on.”

“Oh, and I just sold a book.” 

I smiled, leaned my head back against my seat and thought about my dedication page. My first sale story wouldn’t have happened without the support and encouragement of my family and friends. It wouldn’t have happened without my friends I met through Avon Fanlit when I first began writing seriously in 2006. It wouldn’t have happened without my critique group. And it wouldn’t have happened without the Seekerville community.  Viable, encouraging communities like Seekerville are important to writers at all stages in their career. But the most important factor in my first sale is God and trusting His timing.

To writers, what would your dedication page look like? Readers, what’s the most memorable dedication page you’ve read? 

Oh, and how about y’all join the fun. I need to come up with a few different titles to give to my editor. (Oh, did I just say that? My editor!) After reading the following blurb, give me your best shot. My top five favorite entries will be put into a drawing for a homemade, by me or my daughter, knitted scarf. You can see them here http://christinarich.wordpress.com/knitted-scarves/ 



When a temple guard, posing as a bond-servant, falls in love with his master’s daughter he must choose between his duty to his king and his one chance at love for eternity.

Set in the heart of Judah several hundred years before the birth of Christ, Yours for Eternity introduces the reader to a society of warrior priests vowed to protect the line of King David. 

With no brothers to carry out her father’s legacy, Sh’mira, the maimed daughter of a prosperous farmer, must marry a man willing to leave his home. However, the only one who does not scorn her disfigurement is Ariel, her father’s bondservant.

In exchange for his freedom, Ariel’s master offers him Sh’mira as a bride and the rights of a firstborn son, but the former Commander of the Temple Guard cannot accept the honor. He’s bound by a vow to protect Judah’s future king from the child’s murderous grandmother, but when the queen’s guard attacks the tiny village he’s been hiding in he finds he cannot leave her.

Will they hold on to their faith while they fight to restore Judah’s rightful king to the throne? Will the two admit their love and bind their hearts for eternity or go their separate ways?

 

Bio: A mother of four, Christina spends her time teaching her youngest daughter and writing when she isn’t helping her husband with their upholstery business.
She loves researching history and her ancestry, loves Israel, loves to fish, read, and of course, write.

She’s a member of ACFW, RWA, Celtic Hearts Romance Writers and Hearts through History. She resides in Northeast Kansas with her family.

You can find more about Christina’s writing journey at http://christinarich.wordpress.com/