The following originally appeared in the Nov. 14 edition of the New Castle Courier-Times.
We no more than got used to the empty nest when Era Next arrives.
And I thought the empty nest was bad.
Wasn’t it just a couple years ago when the boys were getting college brochures in the mail and we were scratching our heads, trying to find those odd, extra-long twin-bed sheets unique to Ball State University dorms?
These days the mailman is delivering new offers the senders hope we can't refuse.
There are batches of brochures, bulging envelopes, and invites for “free” fancy dinners. If you saw our mailbox, you’d think that Brian, anyway, is a pretty popular guy, maybe even some sort of celebrity. But the truth is, being 64 is what makes him attention-worthy.
His special mail arrives almost daily from all kinds of insurance companies, ones we’d never even heard of before, wanting to talk to him about the supplementary Medicare insurance he’ll need on his next birthday.
If he opened and read all the information they send, well, he’d need to hire a personal assistant to help keep it all straight and, since he's retired and can't afford such a thing, and I’m not applying, the bulk of it goes unopened.
It all makes our heads spin, frankly, so when the time comes, we’ll probably go with a recommendation from a retiree we trust -- and leave it at that.
On a more occasional basis, we get fancy invites to dinners. Would be nice if they were from friends or family but no, these are dinners from people we don’t know wanting to sell us something. They’re at places we would never attend courtesy of our own wallets and the pictures
show cloth napkins, china, silver – the whole works.
They look romantic. And delicious. Yes, the invites are clearly supposed to be irresistible until, of course, you consider that at such a meal, the reality is you’d be sitting wall-to-wall next to other
couples who received the same invites and like us, are just there for the eats. I envision a salesman standing over us pitching whatever investment he or she is selling. Maybe I’m wrong. But I think I’m probably closer to right. One thing is for sure, and that's that we aren't biting.
It is said there are no free lunches. I imagine that goes double for free dinners.
But the mail we got the other day topped both these. It was a funeral home inviting us to come on in and get our preplanning on. This has happened before. The last time, the funeral service had the gall to ask us what we expected to spend on a funeral. You know, so they could better come up with a package. Excuse me?
But we didn't bite on that offer either, and the place is trying again. We'll just pass and try not to pass on.
So this is the stage we're in. I’m not sure what mail will come in the one after this one. I don’t think
I want to know. Maybe we’ll just change our mailing address.
Donna Cronk is Neighbors Editor of The Courier-Times and edits the
quarterly her magazine for women.
My mother, Martha C. Jarrett Jobe, back row, far right, in 1948 with her parents and siblings. This is the only photo I have ever seen with all of them. The occasion was Mom's parents' 50th wedding anniversary. From left, front, sister Mary, their mother Edith, their father Jess, eldest sister Ruth (from whom I got my middle name). Back from left, Jesse, Grace, Howard, and Martha. I'm reasonably sure the photo was taken at the family home on South Second St., Richmond.
I've been thinking about Richmond, Indiana this week. It's interesting how some places come in and out of our lives for different reasons.
On Monday, Nov. 13, I'm speaking at 1 p.m. at the Senior Center at 1600 S. Second Street. My connection to that city, and to that street, began 104 years ago on Dec. 2 when my mother was born and raised on that street, and her sister, Mary, spent close to a century on that same block where the family lived.
It was Mary, in fact, who introduced Mom to my dad back in the early '30s. Something about a baseball game around Abington. Mom's father grew up on a farm in the red two-story house next to the old Abington School. She loved spending time out there with her grandparents until the property left the family in, I believe, the 1920s. Here she is in that rural Centerville lawn next to that house with a cousin who lived nearby.
After the introduction to Huburt Jobe of Brownsville, my "city-girl" mom went on to become a farmer's wife. But she never stopped loving her hometown of Richmond. She always thought that somehow she'd get Dad to Richmond ... but it never happened.
And even when they reached the age that they decided to move to town, and could have chosen Richmond, they chose to buy a house in Liberty. But when it came time to make the final move, they couldn't do it. They couldn't leave the farm. So they sold the Liberty house and stayed in the country.
While she never made it back to Richmond to live, I did! Brian and I began married life there in a trailer park where we lived for three years.
During my childhood, we took The Palladium-Item. My parents read it cover-to-cover and often clipped articles that interested them. I'm sure that newspaper made Mom feel connected with her hometown. Once she said that if for no other reason, they would always take the paper for the obituaries. It's a comment I still hear from subscribers at the paper where I work.
I connected with that paper, and with some idea that if anything significant happened to or in a community, the newspaper had it covered. At 16, watching a young reporter work a 4-H dog show, I knew, as in a bolt of lightning, that I wanted to be a reporter too. For 35 years it's been my career.
Richmond was where we went shopping, where we viewed the fireworks at Glen Miller Park. It's where we went on picnics with extended family. (I so loved that round kiddie pool.)
I attended IU East, worked my first "paid" job at Elder-Beerman my senior year, and my second at The Palladium-Item being a "go-fer girl" in advertising the summer after I graduated. I was born at Reid Hospital, and today there are relatives on both sides of my family who live in that city.
When I visit Second Street on Monday, I'll think of my mother. It's another full-circle moment.
Mom would be happy I'm there.
There are many surprises in author world. So many that, ironically, I could write a book about the surprises associated with writing a book.
But for today, let's touch on keeping this journey going and evolving. As we know from science and from hanging out for a while on this planet, nothing (except for God) stays the same. As authors, we have to keep producing new material in one form or another. Or, we have to keep finding new audiences for our old material.
The key word here is new, and keeping things fresh.
Last year, when my second novel came out, WholeHeart Communications Owner Christy Ragle suggested that I develop a presentation on self-publishing. At first, I balked at the notion. I wasn't an expert. I didn't have all the answers.
But the more I thought about it, I realized that while no, I wasn't a pro, I knew enough to publish two books and certainly had advice and opinions on the topic. I also realized that no one has "all the answers." But I had some answers. And some behind-the-cover insights and thoughts on the experience of self-publishing and what comes next. It could all prove helpful to those thinking of going for it.
I also have had a number of would-be authors approach me asking for advice, or inquiring if I would read and comment on their manuscripts, and even if I would edit their books.
So I put something together and realized that yes, I had enough for a program. It's gotten me into a few venues and this Saturday, from 12:30 to 1:30 p.m., I'll roll out a sample taken from the larger program in the Allen County Public Library, 900 Library Plaza, Fort Wayne. I'll be speaking during a panel discussion on "Top 10 tips for finding readers."
I'll also be around the rest of the day at the noon to 5 p.m. author fair. It's all free to the public, including these workshops:
* Secrets of Successful Self-Publishing 12:30-1:30 pm
Learn how to self-publish like a pro.
* How to Write 50K Words in 30 Days 1:45-3:15 pm
Writing Workshop with Michelle Weidenbenner.
* Writing Down the Genres 3:30-4:30 pm
Four authors who write in different genres: romance, Christian, non-fiction/history, and memoir—will discuss their process.
No preregistration is required to attend either of the panels or the writing class.
As writers, authors, or speakers, you never know if a particular presentation you come up with will be one that's requested over and over. My best tip in this area is that when you are developing a program, make it useful to those listening to you. It' not just about you. Give those you are speaking to food for thought, encouragement, challenge, how-to information or SOMETHING that has potential to help or change them. Years ago in the journalism field, we used to call this "news you can use."
Also, don't shy away from writing new programs to suit new opportunities that come your way.
Maybe it's not just food for thought, but actual food! A Zionsville librarian approached me asking if I would do a presentation on recipes from my first book. Oh, and bring samples. I said I could do that, sure, and told him that I would like to be reimbursed for the food expenses. He said it wasn't a problem. So I wrote a program called "Novel Food," shopped for, prepared and hauled in two dishes from recipes found in Sweetland of Liberty Bed & Breakfast.
One day at work the phone rang. A local elementary school asked if I would give a back-to-school program to staff, parents and kids on some aspect of literacy. Umm, sure? I mean, sure! I put one together called "What's Your Clue?" I've used it since then at a library summer reading program kickoff.
The point is that if we're going to continue our journey, we have to think out of the book or books we wrote, and delve into new territory.
Will it be perfect? Are we experts? No and no. Will it take time? Yes. Is it worth it? If you love writing and sharing with readers, yes. It is indeed worth it.
Donna Cronk is author of two inspirational novels, quite a few programs, and thousands of newspaper columns and feature stories. To connect with her about her programs or books, email her at email@example.com.
On Saturday, Nov. 4 from noon to 4, consider stopping by the Fishers (Hamilton East) Library, 5 Municipal Drive at the Booktoberfest Author Fair. I’m grateful to be among the 24 selected for inclusion in this event.
Each author is invited to donate a book for a silent auction. I'm providing a copy of Cooking From Hoosier Cabinet Country surrounded by a few cookie cutters and a holiday candle inside a round wicker serving tray.
I was part of a team several years ago that produced these vintage-style cookbooks at the New Castle Courier-Times where I work.
Hoosier cabinets were made at “The Hoosier” factory in New Castle and I've always thought the town should make more of a big deal of that heritage. For many years I coordinated the newspaper's annual recipe contest and along the way, renamed the popular event to the Hoosier Cabinet Cooking Contest.
Many years' worth of those top recipes in categories of snacks, vegetables, salads, main dishes, breads and desserts were collected into one volume. It's a lovely community cookbook offering regional home-cooking.
Several former co-workers were passionate about getting these cookbooks out there -- Brenda, Betty and Sue. I'm grateful to have worked with them on the project.
The cookbooks were so well received that they sold out after two printings. I bought a few extras with my employee discount and figure this is an ideal occasion to donate one for the library auction. I placed it inside a round, flat basket and dolled it up with some duplicate cookie cutters in my collection and a mini-candle. I must admit that I’m looking forward to seeing the winning bid and who gets it.
Back at my table, I’ll be offering free Christmas gift wrapping (with purchase) on my books. Last year at a bazaar, one shopper took me up on this offer to the tune of seven copies! They were destined as her gifts to members of her book club.
I’m also recycling the leftover Halloween candy with a basket full of it along with some flavored teas – free samples for the taking. I look forward to seeing what surprises the library staff has in store in this beautiful library.
Fort Wayne on Saturday, Nov. 11
The following weekend, I’ll be spending Veterans Day, noon to 5, at the Allen County Public Library in Fort Wayne, 900 Library Plaza, Fort Wayne. The area is truly new territory as I’ve not been in or around there for any programs or book-club discussions.
Along with participating in the fair, I was invited to serve on a panel discussion about "The Secrets of Successful Self-Publishing." This will be from 12:30 to 1:30 p.m. Before questions and discussion, each of the four panelists get 10 minutes and I’m devoting mine to practical, proven ideas on how to find readers for your books. Join us in meeting room A.
This author fair was recommended a year ago by a Wayne County author who raved about what a class act it is so I checked it out this year and am pleased to be a part of it.
What's even more special is that my friend Sandy Moore was also selected as a participating author at both fairs so we’ll get to spend some special time together. Sandy will have her children’s book, Sadie’s Search for Home. Her follow-up book, Doodle's Search for Success, will be out before Christmas. I had the pleasure of helping edit the delightful book about a spunky beagle.
More fun things are also in the works but for now, I’ll simply invite you to Fishers and Fort Wayne. I'll have plenty of copies of both books, and be happy to discuss writing, self-publishing, marketing or programs I can provide for your clubs and organizations.
In case you're new to this blog, my books are Sweetland of Liberty Bed & Breakfast and That Sweet Place: At Home in the Heartland. They are also available on Amazon and at a new venue that I will soon be telling you about when the timing is right.
As new territory emerges, the journey keeps rolling. Believe me, I'm more surprised -- and grateful -- than anyone!
Brian has always enjoyed Halloween. While he doesn’t do anything with the Christmas tree other than tell me if it is leaning to one side (a particular pet peeve of his), and yes, tell me it’s pretty once it’s all decked out, he is the one who carves our pumpkins.
At this stage in the game of life, I’d be content to plug in a fake one and carry on, but not him. He always makes a production of selecting an annual pumpkin or two and carving them.
I came across this photo of him with a Parke County pumpkin 40 years ago. This was taken in his parents’ Rockville, Indiana basement the first weekend I met them.
We had been to the Parke County Covered Bridge Festival where he snagged a pumpkin (I probably got one too but don’t remember that). It was my 19th birthday weekend and Brian’s mother surprised me with a gift, a new wallet.
I’m pretty sure she made pumpkin pie. Boy, she could bake pies! In the fall there were always pumpkin pies on her counter top.
I have fond memories of trick-or-treating as a kid, throwing "spook-house" basement parties for the neighbor kids in my family's rustic basement, canvassing the neighboring farms for Trick-or-Treat for UNICEF and then going to the church basement for a party. And who can forget the full-sized chocolate bars out of Philomath?
I'm seeing a trend here ... Halloween and basements.
Then came the years of our boys and their Halloween parties and trick-or-treating. This is my favorite Halloween photo of Sam and Ben. It's actually one of my all-time favorite pictures of them period.
Last year, Brian had a little issue with his pumpkin. He carved it and set it on the porch. I wasn't paying much attention and didn't connect the dots when he asked if we had any Duct Tape. I told him we did and asked why.
"Oh, I probably won't need it," he hedged. I still didn't think anything of it.
Until the next day.
His carved pumpkin had Duct Tape wrapped around its head.
"I cut his nose off," Brian confessed.
I roared with laughter.
"It won't even show when the lights are out," he insisted.
To my surprise, he was right. The pumpkin looked just fine -- in the dark.
Here's this year's duo, carved yesterday while I was at work. Pretty cute.
What are your special Oct. 31 memories?
I’m not an especially early riser and rare is the occasion when I’ve turned on the lights at the newspaper office. But if you invite me to give a program, I’ll probably get there early.
It’s not a point of pride – there’s nothing to be proud of here – it’s just how it is. It has more to do with fear. Often I set out alone into the countryside or onto the interstate headed toward my carefully GPS’ed destination. I probably have never been to or at least noticed the place before, and so if getting there an hour early is on the safe side, two hours are even safer.
What I like is get to the church, banquet hall, or library, breathe a sigh of relief, park the car somewhere discreet ... and chill. All the better if no one is around to speculate that “the speaker” has arrived.
I may kick off my shoes, get as cozy as can be, slide back my seat, unpack a Bible-study lesson I’m working on, a book I’m reading, or maybe pay some bills, call a friend or the husband, clean out my purse, update my planner, listen to music or a podcast.
The point is that no time is wasted; it is cherished. I’m happy as a clam, savoring the experience of being where I need to be early and looking forward to the evening ahead.
The problem is, sometimes I get caught in the act of early.
A while back, I was scheduled to attend a book club’s discussion. The meeting was mid-afternoon on a Saturday in a town 70 miles from home at a residence where I knew no one, not even the woman who invited me.
My plan was to find it, do a drive by, then scope out a nice parking lot somewhere and take it easy for a couple hours. With a tote bag filled with projects to work on, around noon I found the address and slowly drove by the correct street number.
Wouldn’t you know it! The hostess chose that moment to do some yard work on a frosty spring day. She looked up just as I passed and started waving and motioning for me to stop!
Rats! I was caught!
She insisted that I come inside. I told her that truly, I had no intention of doing that, and gave her my story about how I like to find my destination early. I don’t think she even listened, because she would hear nothing of the idea of me waiting it out elsewhere.
So inside I went and although I’m sure she had tons of things to do to get her home and herself ready for company, instead we sat and chatted. What a gracious hostess! I wonder if she dislikes me for the bother.
But really, I would have been more comfortable showing up when I was supposed to have. The last thing I wanted to do was mess up her day. People simply don't believe me when I tell them that chill-time is part of the plan.
Last spring I traveled to a country church in Ohio for a mother-daughter banquet. It was a gorgeous day, the kind you dream about all winter long. I was maybe an hour early and thought I’d hide in plain sight in the parking lot and enjoy the warm breeze. Surely no one would notice me as there were other cars around. Besides, only the person inviting me would recognize me, and even that was a maybe.
But no, I was found out and quickly at that. I begged off coming inside, but it wasn’t long before another person pegged me as the speaker. I suspected that I might be the subject of talk in the kitchen about why I refused to go inside. So I did.
Last night I spoke to two chapters of a teachers’ sorority in Indy. It was a dinner meeting, which meant I’d be navigating rush-hour traffic through the heart of Madison, Hamilton and Marion counties.
This could mean I’d get there faster crawling on my hands and knees. So I left early. Really early.
An hour and a half before the event was to start, I got a text from the hostess, reminding me about the evening in case I had forgotten, and that it started at 6.
“Looking forward to seeing you and everyone!” I texted back.
I didn’t tell her I was already there.
As for leaf color, I can’t say this October – so far – is a ringer. But it’s been a beautiful week all the same. Brian and I usually fly pretty low-key with birthday and anniversary celebrations, but this week we’ve been extra blessed!
On Tuesday, my boss Katie surprised me with a cake, balloon, and card signed by everyone in the building, and a beautiful bouquet of seasonal flowers.
Here it is Saturday and the flowers are just as pretty today as they were several days ago.
Yesterday, Lisa Perry, our newspaper editor who preceded Katie, was in town for her annual community walk through New Castle highlighting such stories as that of the 104-year-old unsolved mystery of Catherine Winters, a little girl who famously has never been found, making her the oldest-known unsolved child disappearance in Indiana history, along with some other tales.
Lisa and her late mother, Charlene Perry, have published books and written extensively about Catherine. But before her annual stroll through town, she took time to have lunch with her cronies at the paper.
Last night, Sam and Allison hosted an anniversary dinner honoring her grandmother Jo, her parents, John and Carla, and Brian and me as well as themselves. ALL of us got married the same October weekend. Allison’s grandmother and late grandfather were married 66 years ago tomorrow, her parents 34 years tomorrow, and Sam and Allison will celebrate five years tomorrow – all married in the same downtown Indianapolis church! For Brian and me, today is our 39th wedding anniversary. My brother Tim and wife Jeannie got married 46 years ago yesterday.
Allison’s brother and his wife, Mike and Lauren, as well as Ben joined us and it was a most pleasant evening featuring a home-cooked meal by Sam and Allison and plenty of talking and watching the MLB playoffs.
Allison surprised me with a tiny birthday cake – a little bigger than cupcake-sized, and I wish I had taken a photo! It was adorable. And, they all sang “Happy Birthday.” A sweet night.
Do you ever have something random happen that makes you feel like “an adult in the room?” This week for me it’s new “adult” table lamps for our bedroom night stands.
For my birthday and our anniversary, Brian and I went shopping for night-stand lamps. In late spring we bought a new bedroom suit, our first since 1983. We thought it was time. Have you ever wondered why these sets only come with one night stand? I have! This time we bought an extra.
I didn’t mention that I would like matching new lights for the stands. I figured all summer that when Brian asked what I wanted for my birthday, I’d have that answer in my back pocket.
I don’t know what style they are, or what era. I just know that we agreed that we like them, they are large and give out good light. We both spend a lot of time in our bedroom watching TV, reading, or working on the computer or projects. They work!
So today, another beautiful day. The week ahead is supposed to be seasonably chilly and maybe blustery too. After we get our grocery shopping done, we’re going to put away the porch furniture and tidy things up for the fall. I’m going to cut down our ornamental grasses out front and toss the summer plants. If we had hatches, I’d batten them down.
As for this trio of trees in our back yard, I tend to view them as a seasonal barometer. I’ve photographed them when they were drenched with ice and snow, making a crystal winter-scape, and when they were drenched in white blossoms. But in all the 19 years we’ve lived here, these trees have never done what they are doing now. They are covered in red berries! They are serving as bird feeders to happy birds who come and go and enjoy these fruits. One large flock of birds even happily stopped by as though they were visiting a birdie Golden Coral. They ate and were in the air again.
Usually the leaves on these trees are long gone by now. Sometimes the leaves even fall in the summer. But this year, this …
What a beautiful October surprise.
It’s spring 1973. I’m in eighth-grade at Liberty Junior High School.
There was no high school-orientation night to plot our high school courses. I don’t remember signing up for freshman year other than my mother’s strong feelings about one thing.
She said I should take typing; that I would use it.
That fall I learned that everything in typing begins on home row, and soon our sweet business-skills teacher, Ethel Sharp, helped us expand our range to other rows on the keyboard.
My friend Cheryl Rodenburg also took typing that fall. One weekend, we decided to borrow her step-grandmother’s portable typewriter and practice our Typing I skills.
We thought it would be fun to create a weekly newspaper in Philomath, the farm community where she lived.
Philomath, in the northwest tip of Union County, Indiana, isn’t an incorporated town, and there are no businesses. But there was a street light outside the Rodenburg home (actually, a security light, no doubt billed to the family). There were several houses in the neighborhood and a lot of cars and tractors passing through the main drag. City life when compared to our much more isolated farm.
I felt so alive that weekend; in love with our newspaper project. Whereas three years earlier we spent weekends in marathon sessions playing with Barbies, this was a new era and I knew it.
I felt as though I could work on our little newspaper 24/7 and I would never tire of it, ever, ever. The power of the press had reached Philomath! And I knew that whatever stories we came up with about the neighborhood, the people would read them. They might have suggestions for more stories, and feel a sense of pride at being in print.
But with only home row under our belts that weekend, we weren’t yet skilled enough to pull off a weekly newspaper, or even one issue.
I ached with a desire to type fluently, stringing not just pecked-out words but sentences, and paragraphs together, to doing something I couldn’t quite verbalize the significance of, but it amounted to making that keyboard sing with the poetry of everyday people’s stories.
At home, there sat an ancient typewriter in the back of a closet. Mom unearthed it, but it was heavy as a Model T, and the keys had to be pushed hard into submission to gather enough ink off the old ribbon to leave a print.
Back in typing class, we kept getting better. Every beginner’s goal became the chance to move up from the manual typewriter to the modern IBM Selectric. I still recall the hum and slight vibration of the machine under my fingers, and the way the keys clicked so easily compared to the clack of non-electric keys. When my fingers sat on home row of that Selectric, I felt as a race horse must feel, itching to get out of the starting gate and move.
The sound of typing became music to my ears, a symphony when others typed at the same time. As the years rolled on, I joined the high school newspaper staff, became editor my senior year, and then studied journalism in college.
It was there I was introduced to video display terminals (VDTs) that we used in 1980s and 1990s newspapering.
What had not changed were the sounds and appeal of creating news stories, just as we had attempted as beginner typists that fall in Philomath. Only by the early 1980s, there was a screen and a curser and it felt so space-age to backspace and delete a stray character rather than attempt a neat job with the typewriter eraser or correction fluid.
Of course computers changed everything. The keyboards were connected to nothing short of the world and all its information in the form of the internet. But it also meant that everyone else was connected to the world. Would they still need local newspapers?
At some point, the clickity-clack of newsroom Associated Press bulletins and breaking news, as well as features and stock reports that printed out of that magical AP wire machine became obsolete. Computers silently transmitted all that copy to us.
As the years continued, many smaller papers stopped using their own presses and instead, printed at centralized locations.
At one time, a newspaper office was a noisy place. The press rolled, the keyboards of first typewriters, then VDTs, then computers clicked. The AP wire machine cranked out copy. People came and went in open-concept newsrooms and advertising departments.
You learned to concentrate in the midst of much noise and many disruptions. You didn’t think about it. Or if you did, you thought it was great to be a part of the pre-deadline mix; that it would all come together, somehow, as if by magic, into a printed newspaper. And it would all happen again the next day.
Most days now, someone comes by the newspaper office and says, “Sure is quiet in here.”
It’s true, too. Our Mac keyboards are so quiet that reporters with light touches can’t even be heard typing. The silence is deafening to where sometimes I think: Are we really making a paper? It's all happening so quietly.
At some point, I trashed my mother’s typewriter, that jet-black, heavy-as-a-Model-T number. As Brian would say, I was in one of my cleaning frenzies.
In the newspaper office, we were gifted with the typewriter that belonged to long-time owner Walter Chambers. It sits on his desk that his family also gave us. They thought his things should be at the newspaper.
The only other typewriter in the building rests above our old-time morgue, where old stories were clipped and stored for future reference. The typewriter typed the name of the topics of those stories on small envelopes. We never use that typewriter anymore. But no one is inclined to toss it out either.
I think back to October 1973 and the craving to know how to make a keyboard sing. I wanted to type fast and make newspapers.
It’s fall 2017. I’m in my thirty-fourth year as a paid community journalist. I still want to type fast and make newspapers.
Maybe some things don't change.
It's all about the new territory.
This week was a good one in the book-marketing department because the in-box brought details and posters from two large Indiana libraries affirming my acceptance as author at their fall fairs.
What that means is this. Potential new readers who might take an interest in my books will pass my table on two Saturdays in two separate cities. I might sell a couple, a few, or even a lot of books. But here's the real bait: if one of those readers happens to connect positively with what I write, that might generate an invite to a book club where all her friends have read it and want to discuss it.
Or it might mean that there isn't a peep until a winter's night when I get a call asking if I would be the speaker at her church's mother-daughter banquet come May. Or a beautiful hand-written letter arrives in the mail saying how much one of the books was enjoyed.
Or, nothing at all might result.
New territory. That's always the goal in author world.
When friends ask if I'm still selling books or doing anything with them, I see their surprise when I tell them yes. After all, they read the things a while ago, and in this super-fast-paced world, everything seems to be old news fast.
A book is like a homemade meal. Both take a lot of time to produce. There's all that ingredient-gathering, figuring out the recipes, having the right utensils, the cooking knowledge to prepare the dish properly, getting the right people to the table, and then, after such a long process to reach the end result, the book is read, the meal devoured.
Before the dishes are washed or the book widely distributed, the questions come: What's for dessert? (or) What are you doing next?
Well, if you're me or a whole bunch of other authors I know, what's next means looking for that new territory.
So along with the Fishers author fair, there's this one, which I heard through the author-vine, is a pretty terrific one, in Fort Wayne.
So what I know for now is that the author journey continues, and I am grateful to the Fishers / Hamilton County and the Fort Wayne / Allen County library staffs for selecting my books -- and me -- as a part of their author fairs.
If you or friends you know live in those areas, I'd love to visit with any of you on either of the first two Saturdays in November. The journey continues and as long as I can find new territory, I hope to remain on it.
AND, a bonus: My friend Sandy Moore, author of the children's chapter book, Sadie's Search for Home, and a new one coming out in December (which I'll let her announce more about when she's ready) also made the cut for these two author fairs. So we get to spend some time together. Any recommendations for a dinner spot in Fort Wayne?
In other news ...
Author Cathy Shouse of the Muncie branch of Pen Women sent this release along to The Courier-Times and I thought I’d share it here in full.
Cathy hosted me as a speaker last year and invited me to join the group. If there were more hours in the day, I would. If you’re looking for a group focused on the creative arts, Friday’s meeting would be a great way to check it out.
I met the guest speaker during a Tipton author fair two years ago and instantly liked her a lot. We’ve kept in touch and I’m happy to give her a plug, below.
Not only is this traditionally published author incredibly talented with art and words, she’s transparent and approachable. Here’s the info that Cathy sent:
Author and graphic designer Kelly O’Dell Stanley of Crawfordsville will speak at a luncheon program at 11:30 a.m. Friday, Oct. 20 in Muncie. Her topic is: “How to Express Your Creativity in Unique Ways.”
O’Dell Stanley’s work has been included in design anthologies and PRINT Magazine’s Design Annual and she has received a variety of awards for her design.
The author discovered writing as a new way of practicing her creativity. In 2013, her essay won first place in the Writer’s Digest Competition in inspirational writing. She’s published two books with Tyndale since 2015; Praying Upside Down: A Creative Prayer Experience to Transform Your Time with God and Designed to Pray: Creative Ways to Engage with God.
Her original monthly calendars are downloaded by hundreds of people worldwide Visit her at (www.kellyostanley.com or on Facebook at Kelly O’Dell Stanley, Author)
The catered meeting is an outreach of the National League of American Pen Women’s Muncie branch at Westminster Villa’s Community Hall, 5600 Westminster Blvd., Muncie. The cost is $10. Space is limited. To attend call Barb Kehoe at 765-288-2098 or email firstname.lastname@example.org
Pen Women is a national, non-profit organization with headquarters in Washington D.C., whose members are artists, musicians and writers.
Today is one of those days when I'm celebrating the home fires -- even if the extent of the fire is the pumpkin-cinnamon candle above, and the stove when I put a supper casserole in later.
Today is a work day at home. If all goes as planned, I won't be driving anywhere, but rather doing some long-overdue, deeper-than-normal cleaning (the master bathroom for one), organizing, putting up the fall decorations, and chilling.
Sometimes it's the little things, the quiet days, that we celebrate in our own peaceful, low-key way. This is one of those kind of days. The candle above and the pretty fall ring with it were gifts from our friends Tom and Char when they visited in the summer. I told them I would be lighting up in the fall, and here we are.
Brian and I both enjoy burning scented candles in cool and cold weather. While it's not cool or cold today, it's fall and that's a good excuse to enjoy a new candle and think of our friends' thoughtfulness.
Speaking of sweet friends, yesterday this "thinking of you" card arrived from my dear friend Debbie in Ohio. Debbie used to live on Carriage Lane and our kids grew up together.
She's been blissfully busy being a new grandmother! And in the midst of it all, she thought of me with this homemade card and God-breathed scripture inside: Psalm 150:6: "Let everything that has breath praise the LORD. Praise the LORD."
I think the photo below summarizes this time of year, a period of transition. I'm still clinging to my summer sandals, but the brown nail polish indicates that it's fall (a color I don't wear much in other seasons).
OK, time to get busy and get some things done around the house! Happy Hump Day, everyone. Don't forget to celebrate life's quiet times and simple pleasures such as a clean house, a scented candle, and appreciation for our friends and loved ones.