Book Review/Recommendation: Moriarty by Anthony Horowitz

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn book reviews, everyday musings3 Comments

One recent Saturday I spent almost the entire day under a warm blanket with chocolate chip cookies dipped in Nutella and read Moriarty by Anthony Horowitz. It was very enjoyable, not only because it was the most relaxed I had been in a long time and I had chocolate, but because the book was such a good one.

My husband recommended the book so I was a bit leery at first. We don’t always like the same books, but lately, he’s been suggesting ones I have enjoyed, including the Walt Longmire Series by Craig Johnson. I’m also reading my first Donald Westlake book, Call Me A Cab, at his suggestion.

First, a little bit about Moriarty. For those familiar with Sherlock Holmes books and movies, you will recognize that name. The book opens, though, with Professor James Moriarty having died at Reichenbach Falls in Switzerland, which leaves the reader wondering about the title of the book.

The main characters of the book are Pinkerton agent Frederick Chase and Inspector Athelney Jones.

The description of the book: Sherlock Holmes is dead.

Days after Holmes and his arch-enemy Moriarty fall to their doom at the Reichenbach Falls, Pinkerton agent Frederick Chase arrives from New York. The death of Moriarty has created a poisonous vacuum which has been swiftly filled by a fiendish new criminal mastermind. Ably assisted by Inspector Athelney Jones, a devoted student of Holmes’s methods of investigation and deduction, Chase must hunt down this shadowy figure, a man much feared but seldom seen, a man determined to engulf London in a tide of murder and menace.

The game is afoot . . .

My view: The book is written like an old-fashioned Sherlock Holmes book so don’t expect there to be modern overdone descriptions of characters of scenes. For the most part the book is a fast paced, dialogue heavy and straight forward presentation. The focus is on the story, not the characters necessarily.

Horowitz takes the reader down into a dark world of crime, twisting around and around until there is a point you’re not sure who is who. Even though I tried to guess the ending and was right on one theory, the way Horowitz brought the story to its finality was still satisfying and fascinating. I honestly couldn’t put the book down once I got myself snuggled in that Saturday afternoon under the covers, and placed other books I was reading aside so I could finish it. I also stopped feeding my children and taking a shower, but that’s an entirely different issue. I’m kidding, of course. I took a shower. I’m not a monster.

Reading the book has encouraged me to move on to Horowitz’s other Sherlock Holmes book The House of Silk which was actually his first Sherlock Holmes-related book.

The House of Silk was the first book authorized as a new Sherlock Holmes novel by the Arthur Conan Doyle in 125-years.

Confession time: I have not actually read any original Sherlock Holmes books. My husband is a huge Sherlock Holmes fan, however, and we have watched many shows based on the books together.

How about you? Are you a big Sherlock Holmes fan? Have you read all of Arthur Conan Doyle’s books?

Fiction Friday: Book update and a glimpse at the next book in the Spencer Valley Chronicles series.

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn fiction, Fiction Friday10 Comments

This week I thought I’d give an update on where the manuscript for Beauty From Ashes is. It’s now in the hands of a couple of editors but one of those editors has been piled under work and the other is sick with Covid. For those reasons and a couple of others, I’ve pushed back the release date of the book from April 26 to May 10. This will hopefully give me time to implement some suggestions from early readers and make any changes my editor wants me to make before the book is released, without my head exploding.

The book will have some extra scenes from what I shared on the blog and it will also be missing a couple of others. There have been several changes from the first draft, which is mainly what was shared on the blog, but none so huge they change the entire plot of the book.

The biggest thing I have had to remind myself during the process this time is my author tagline of “just have fun.” I wasn’t having fun with writing recently, was taking myself a bit too seriously, and trying to be something I am not.  I didn’t start writing these stories to be a traditionally published author so focused on career that they lose site of who they really are. This isn’t to say that traditionally published authors don’t know who they are but I know that I would lose that if I was traditionally published and being told what I have to write, how to write it, and when to write it. It would stress me out to no end but that is because I am stressed out by a lot. There are other writers are not stressed out by every little thing and while I’m working on not being stressed out by things (I swear I’ve come a long way, even though I have a long way to go), right now in my life I need to take the easiest road possible to tell my stories.

So, anyhow, while I wait for more rewrite suggestions for Beauty From Ashes, I am starting to write a couple of other books, including Mercy’s Shore, which will be the next book in the Spencer Valley Chronicles series.

Because I often share everything first with my blog readers, this is the tentative cover of the book.

It could definitely change before the final publication sometime next year (or maybe late this year if I really get some inspiration and push forward fast on this book).

Mercy’s Shore will focus on Molly Tanner’s ex-boyfriend Ben Oliver and possibly on Ellie’s obnoxious, recovering-alcoholic sister, Judi Lambert. I haven’t definitively decided if Judi will be in the story or not. Similar to Beauty From Ashes, the book will not be a strict romance. I won’t give too much away, but it is possible Judi and Ben will not be romantically linked throughout the book.

After all, Ben has some amends to make to his ex-girlfriend Angie and to their daughter, Amelia, who he abandoned while trying to earn his law degree and pass the bar. In Mercy’s Shore, we will learn more about why that happened and what led Ben to be so focused on career over family.

I’m still plotting this one out, but thought I would share with you what I’ve written so far, which is literally a few paragraphs that may or may not end up being in the final book.

When the world stopped spinning, Ben Oliver was upside down, his seatbelt digging into his chest. Underneath him were shards of glass and something warm and slippery dripped into his eyes.

For a moment he thought it was oil from the engine. Even when red splattered the shattered windshield beneath him he couldn’t comprehend it was him that was bleeding. Of course it was him bleeding. He’d been the only one in the car when he’d jerked the wheel to the right to miss the deer and had sent his silver BMW careening over the embankment.

So, this is it, he thought. This is how it all ends. Not with a whimper but a bang after all.

A lot of bangs actually. He was sure that his BMW was totaled but worse than that was the pain searing through his sternum, back, and head, not to mention the blood now pooling in the shards of broken glass. He was beginning to wonder if he was totaled as well.

His hand slipped up to the seatbelt buckle, searching for the button to release it, but then he hesitated. If he released it there was a bed of glass waiting for him. He had to think this through, brace his legs and arms somehow before he released himself from his upside down prison.

In the end it didn’t matter anyhow. The seatbelt buckle wouldn’t release, no matter how many times he hit it and he was left to listen to the metal of the car creaking and groaning as it settled into its new position on its roof in the middle of the woods.

I’m not sure if I will share this one on the blog or not.

I’m also not sure if I will be sharing any of Lily on the blog, which is a different type of book for me and the other book I am working on. Lily will be based on the character Lily from A New Beginning, the book about Blanche Robins and Judson T. Wainwright.

Spoiler alert if you haven’t read the book — If you remember, Lily became pregnant at 15 after she slept with a man who had drugs she wanted. Blanche’s sister, Edith, and brother-in-law, Jimmy, were going to adopt Lily’s baby and in the end, decided to take Lily in as well.

Lily will be written in the first person and though the topic matter will be dark, I’m going to try to not make the entire book dark and depressing. There will be hope, especially as the book progresses and marches to the end. I am in the plotting stages of this book as well. When I write “plotting” I should mention that I have considered myself a “panster” writer in the past. A panster in writing is a person who writes by the seat of their pants and simply sees where the story will go.

For future books, I’ll be considering myself a hybrid pantser-plotter fiction writer. I will be plotting some of the book while also writing away and seeing where it goes. I want to plot more of the stories out from now on but also not plot so much that the book feels stale and cookie-cutter or formulaic. All books are formulaic in a way, I recognize that, but some genres make a book feel even more formulaic and predictable than others and Christian fiction is one of the worse for that. I don’t know if I will continue writing under the strict Christian fiction genre, but I do know my books will remain “clean.”

I’ve shared a little of Lily on here before, but will share a few paragraphs here to give you an idea of why it will be a different book for me.

That lady social worker said it didn’t hurt to push out a baby.

She lied.

It hurt like that place Mama said I was gonna go for getting pregnant in the first place. I never felt so much pain in my life. I thought I was going to die.

They wanted me to hold the baby, but I didn’t want to. She wasn’t mine anyhow. She belonged to those people I’d met at the agency.

That baby was squawking and hollering; all red and squishy and ugly. I told that nurse to take it away and let those people who were going to be her parents deal with it.

I don’t remember much after that. I slept for hours and hours. Everything in my body hurt and I was so weak I could barely stand. When I opened my eyes, it was dark, and I knew I had to get out of there.

Having something growing in you for nine months is weird.

Pushing it out through your private area while you scream is weird.

Giving that baby to people you only met once is weird too.

It’s all as weird as what that man did to me that left that baby in my belly in the first place.

The nurses didn’t hear me leave.

That social worker wasn’t even there.

My clothes were in a drawer by the bed at the hospital and I changed into them quickly. I cried because it hurt so bad all over. The area where that baby came from hurt the worse. Blood ran down my leg and I wiped it away.

I walked a long way to get to Mama. Wind whipped my hair across my face, cold bit at my bare skin. My stomach ached from hunger and my body screamed for sleep. I didn’t think I’d makeit.

I could barely lift my hand to pound on the door to her apartment when I finally got there. She didn’t open it for a long time and when she did, she was angry.

“How did you even find your way back here?”

She spat the words out like chew in a bucket.

“Mama, I’m tired.” I clutched at my stomach. “Hungry.”

“What do you want me to do about it? Didn’t those social workers feed you anything?”

“Mama —“

“Don’t call me Mama. You know I don’t like that.” She scowled in disgust. “You’re bleeding all over the hallway. You have that baby yet?”

I nodded weakly, wincing when she grabbed my upper arm, ripping me forward into the darkness of the apartment, bouncing my side off a wall.

“Get in here and stop bleeding on my rug.”

She shoved me down the hallway toward the living room. I collapsed on the couch, grasping at the musty smelling cushions as the room began to spin.

Maybe it was days. Maybe it was hours. Maybe it was weeks  before there were voices at the door and strong arms lifting me. I don’t really remember. It was all a blur of sweat and pain and Mama’s pinched and angry face, her screams cutting through my nightmares.

That day was the last time I saw Mama.

Now I’m living here in this place with a bunch of trees and open fields and a stream like I saw a picture of once in a book.

I don’t know what life will be like now, but anything has got to be better than where I came from.

So that is my Fiction Friday update. Hopefully in future weeks, I will have some original fiction to share with you, especially if I decide to blog Mercy’s Shore, which I hope to be able to write a little bit faster than other books.

Old fashioned entertainment is my kind of entertainment

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn everyday musings18 Comments

The entertainment I like would be considered old-fashioned by some. Okay, fine. It would be considered old-fashioned by everyone.

I feel like maybe I have an old soul (of course, now at 44, my body is getting old as well). I have always liked shows like The Dick VanDyke Show, Burns and Allen and The Andy Griffith Show, and other old shows that were on the air long before I was born. Part of the reason I like these shows is that I was exposed to them at a time when there was nothing else for me to watch.

They hold sentimental value for me.

Growing up, we had an antenna on our back porch and four TV channels on an old black and white TV. Sometimes Dad would have to go out back and adjust the metal wiring that was supposed to be an antenna. I think he might have even put aluminum foil on it one time to try to improve the quality of the signal. I don’t remember it working.

I’m not so old that we didn’t have color TVs back then. Our family was just poor. We did eventually get a color TV from my grandmother, but we still only had four channels because the local cable company wouldn’t bring their lines to our house since we lived about three miles outside of a town. That same cable channel now has the internet and still won’t bring their lines up my parent’s road (which is across from the creek from where we used to live) to replace the inferior internet service they have now.

The four channels we could get were ABC, CBS, NBC, and PBS. When I came home from school, there were either after-school specials to watch or the news so I often turned to PBS. Our local PBS channel used to rotate between The Dick VanDyke Show and Burns and Allen at 6 p.m. Around 4 p.m. they showed Little House on the Prairie or The Waltons on PBS (they rotated these too) and I would watch that too.

LITTLE HOUSE ON THE PRAIRIE — Pictured: (clockwise from top left) Melissa Gilbert as Laura Ingalls, Michael Landon as Charles Philip Ingalls, Karen Grassle as Caroline Quiner Holbrook Ingalls, Lindsay/Sidney Greenbush as Carrie Ingalls, Melissa Sue Anderson as Mary Ingalls Kendall (Photo by NBCU Photo Bank/NBCUniversal via Getty Images via Getty Images)

Because I had nothing else to watch, I found myself actually watching the shows, focusing on the comedy, the facial expressions, and the easy-going way they delivered their lines. They didn’t need to yell or be biting or sarcastic or crass to make everyone laugh and I liked that. Now that I am getting “old” I find myself gravitating to those shows as a way to find comfort in a crazy world.

When I am down or the world is swirling too fast around me, I turn on The Dick VanDyke Show or The Andy Griffith Show, which I only watched later in life. Sometimes I’ll take about any old comedy show – Green Acres has even popped up on my screen a time or two. My husband used to watch Hogan’s Heroes and The Mary Tyler Moore Show too.

I stay clear of the mystery or crime shows from the 60s to now as much as possible lately. I find they can sometimes pull me deeper into depression. Perry Mason from the 60s isn’t as difficult for me to watch since it’s mostly about the battle in the courtroom than anything else. Once the shows started to get into modern times they began to focus more on violence and crimes that are all too real for me and while I do like crime shows of today (Brokenwood Mysteries, Father Brown, McDonald and Dodd, etc.) the days when I am looking for comfort, I avoid them.

Sometimes my brain needs to quiet down and remember a simpler time of comedy. Was life perfect in the 60s? Of course not. There was still all the sadness of today, simply packaged differently for the world to see. It was all there. The abuse, the drug use, the murders, assaults, war, etc. The world hasn’t ever been perfect since Adam and Eve messed up in the garden. But what is nice about the shows from the 60s is that they focused on the quality of content. They care more about putting out a quality product, not about just kicking out the quantity to fill up the airwaves for commercial dollars. Sure, there were bad shows out there too, don’t get me wrong, but the high-quality shows overshadowed them and still hold up today (though not all the references do, the overall storylines do).

Are there old TV shows that are a comfort to you? Probably not as old as mine, of course. *wink* Then again, I do have some readers here who are “old” like me!

I thought I’d close with a clip from my favorite episode of The Dick VanDyke Show.

And here is a documentary about the show I bumped into on YouTube while looking for clips.

Five comedians you need to look up today

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn everyday musings3 Comments

I have been watching a lot of comedians recently and thought I would share my favorites today on the blog.

Ken Davis

I have been watching Ken Davis since I was in high school. After I got out of the hospital in November I watched him constantly to ground me and help take my mind off how awful I felt.

John Branyan

John isn’t as well known as Ken Davis is to many (at least in the Christian community) but he has some of the most hilarious bits, including this one about the Three Little Pigs.

Josh Sneed

I just discovered this guy this past weekend and he was exactly what I needed to lift my spirits.

Chonda Pierce

Oh, Chonda. Many who hear her love her and some have decided not to like her because of how she’s expressed her political views in the last few years, but Chonda still cracks me up. She’s had so much heartache in her life, but still manages to laugh and make others laugh.

Nazareth

This comedian is originally from the Middle East and he uses his heritage for some very edgy, very funny jokes.

Sunday Bookends: A somewhat rough week, missing when Christian fiction was good, and the ongoing battle with depression

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn everyday musings, Sunday Bookends6 Comments

Welcome to Sunday Bookends where I ramble about what I’ve been reading, doing, watching, writing and listening to.


What I/we’ve been Reading

This week I started Miss Julia Rocks the Cradle by Ann B. Ross and I’m really enjoying it.

I’m also looking forward to reading Call Me A Cab by Donald Westlake.

I’m actually looking forward to reading anything that isn’t Christian fiction right now, as awful as that sounds, but I need a break from the new Christian fiction – yes, the stuff like mine – that is fairly cheesy and very watered down.

I was in the library of my parent’s church this week while Little Miss was at Awana and I was looking at books by Bodie and Brock Thoene, books that were about real issues, real people and not fluff. They were great and there aren’t a lot of Christian fiction writers like them out there now. Don’t get me wrong. I like fluff books too. I write fluff. I’m just in a really bad place when it comes to Christian fiction right now, especially how a lot of the new stuff seems to have the same template and be the same story but with different characters.

Little Miss and I are reading some Paddington again this week. I guess she needed some comfort reading and I did as well.

The Boy is slogging through Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson.

He hates it. I’m hoping to find him a better classic book to read before the school year ends.



What’s Been Occurring

This week presented some challenging moments for me. Those moments left me deeply hurt, worried, sad and finally in a pretty deep depression. There are a couple people that were a part of one of these moments who think I am in a deep depression because they said my writing wasn’t good, but that isn’t actually the issue. The issue this week was once again being disappointed in the behavior of people who profess to be Christians. Or I should say, that was my issue until I worked toward changing my way of thinking.

Christians are not perfect, merely forgiven. No Christian is going to do everything right all the time. The Christians who hurt me this week did not do so spitefully, they did so carelessly. Had they listened to me over the last few weeks, maybe they would have known how I have been slipping deeper and deeper into depression, all while trying to pretend I am not.

I have been doing an awful lot of pretending lately. I have pretended I am okay, I have pretended I’m not worried about myself or my family. I have pretended I want to have a career in writing novels. I have pretended I’m good enough to write novels. I have pretended that it doesn’t hurt when people I grew up with and used to be close friends no longer speak to me.

The next paragraph is not in an attempt to whine or sound like my life is so hard, but to explain a bit of what I have been pretending. Also, please read this with the little bit of humor I wrote it in and not as dark as it sounds. 😉 I have been pretending that my hair is not falling out in clumps and that isn’t freaking me out (my family knows I am freaking out, but I’ve tried not to mention it too much to anyone else). I have been pretending that my smell and taste is back to normal after Covid. It is not and there are some days I can’t even eat because everything is disgusting and has the “Covid smell and taste.” I have been pretending that I don’t feel like I’d rather stay in bed all day long than face another day of unknown health oddities. I have been pretending that I can keep pretending, shoving it all in so no one can see it to keep people from looking at me like most doctors do – like I am a sad, anxiety-ridden loser who needs to be on as many pills as possible and then hidden away.

I don’t have a lot to look forward to each day, other than my children and some days even that is a challenge. My 7-year old doesn’t want to do her school work many days so sometimes we both end up crying. My 15-year old is amazing but he’s trying to figure out life as he transitions into being a teen and marches toward adulthood so sometimes his dad and I screw up trying to communicate with him and then we all end up in tears. (I know we will figure this out but some days I just feel like I’m really bad at the mom thing.)

Then we came to the end of my week when I went to a new doctor for my thyroid and my blood pressure was sky high, my weight was the highest it has ever been in my entire life, and the doctor told me I have to try a new medicine that could make me feel even worse than I do now or I can face a myriad of health issues that will slowly kill me.  I’m already sick on the thyroid medicine I take now so I have no idea what to expect from this new stuff.

Hmmm…can’t figure out why the blood pressure was so high after the weird situation with the writing group that happened about the same time I found out there was a very good possibility my elderly parents had not only been exposed to Covid, but now had it. (We now I’m know that they do indeed have it.)

The entire time I was at the appointment I kept worrying they would try to admit me. I was almost out the door when the nurse wanted to take my blood pressure again before I left. She did so while my arm was in the air and I was on the verge of a full blown panic attack as I flashed back to my time in the hospital when I briefly thought I might die on a ventilator (I did not think this for the majority of my stay, thank God). Needless to say my blood pressure was still high. I seriously don’t even think the woman knew how to take a proper reading.

Once at home, I took the bp meds that have been making me dizzy, watched some TV with the hubby and the bp dropped more than 30 points. In fact, it dropped even before the medicine kicked in. I guess because I was out of the stressful situation.

So, last week was hard. I don’t know what this week holds but I do hope it is something a little better. Right now I am not going to pretend that I am optimistic that it will be better. Writing the truth feels good. I am not optimistic. I have hope, but not optimism. I am not trying to fake it until I make it anymore and it feels good to be honest about my current emotions instead of trying to pretend that “I’m fine and I know things will be fine.”

Bull crap. I don’t know that at all and I am not fine.

Walking away from a writing group that I loved, but that was stressing me out (not their fault other than that awful experience of my work being shredded in front of a bunch of strangers), finally admitting that I was trying too hard to be something I am not, was completely freeing. I will, however, miss the wonderful ladies who were a part of the group.

I like writing my stories, no matter how stupid they are or how they don’t follow the strict rules of writing. I will probably continue to share them on my blog, but maybe nowhere else. I don’t even know yet. I will offer books for sale for friends and family to access but I probably won’t push their advertising much in the future. I was writing for fun not for acclaim and when that fun started to be stomped out of me, it was time to step back to what once made me happy – just sharing my ramblings on here and with friends and family.

What We watched/are Watching

Now on to happier things. Last week we watched more Brokenwood, some Mystery Science Theater (Manos, The Hand of Fate. It was absolutely horrific, which if you know anything about MST3K is actually a good thing. More opportunity for quips and laughs.), more Night Court, and I watched some old All Creatures Great and Small but then decided I really don’t like the actor who plays James Herriot in the old. He made James Herriot into a kind of uptight jerk without a Scottish accent. He’s much sweeter and less huffy in the new series, which is what I would imagine the real James Herriot (James Wight) was actually like.


What I’m Writing

Honestly, not a whole lot right now. Maybe someday again. I did share a Randomly Thinking on the blog last week and a book review.

What I’m Listening To

There has been a need for uplifting music this week so there has been some Elevation Worship and Matthew West going on.

Now it’s your turn

What have you been reading, watching, doing, or listening to? Let me know in the comments.

Randomly Thinking: Hair in the crack in the wall, wisdom in your teeth, and other random thoughts

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn Randomly Thinking8 Comments

Welcome to my Randomly Thinking post where I share random tidbits from my life. Read on at your own risk.

***

There is a crack in the wall at my parents that has grown some and now a part of the wall has chipped off. The last time I looked at it, I noticed there was hair poking out of it.

“Uh, Dad? Did anyone from your family ever go missing?”

Dad sighed. “No. I would assume that’s when they added horsehair to the plaster to make it sturdier.”

Of course, this took me to the internet, not to look for a missing family member, but to read about horsehair mixed in plaster.

So, yes, back in the old days of construction they used horsehair in walls.

According to the National Association of Realtors, plaster walls constructed before the 1950s were “sometimes called “horse-hair plaster” because it was common to mix horsehair into the wet plaster to add strength, and to prevent cracking with minor flexing. Heating and cooling a house will cause plaster to expand and shrink slightly, so the hair helped keep the walls a bit more flexible.”

Huh. So that probably is horsehair in there and not the decomposing body of Great-great-aunt=so-and-so after all. Hopefully anyhow.

***

The crack in the wall made me think of Doctor Who and that first episode with the eleventh Doctor.

***

I have a bit of an issue with those videos popping up all over the internet of the grooms crying when they see their bride coming down the aisles. The romantic in me would love to say it’s because they are so moved by the beauty of their bride they have been brought to tears. Or maybe it is because they simply can’t believe their bride has chosen them. I would also love to say it is because it means he has decided he will devote his entire life to this woman. Really, though? A crying groom could mean anything.

I once watched a groom cry and hoped this would mean he was turning his life around, going to be a better husband than he had been a boyfriend, be a real father to his girls. Instead, a year later he was cheating on his bride, a few years later she’d taken him back and he was still cheating. Then a year after that he was in jail for various offenses.

Eventually, he was divorced, his children adopted by another man, and he was in jail for manufacturing and trafficking meth. Sometimes tears mean everything. Sometimes they mean nothing at all.

I still choose to think the crying of the men in most of those videos means something, though, and that something is very special. The romantic in me isn’t dead yet.

***

Can’t remember if I ever shared this photo of my shocked pickle on here. It looked this way right before I ate it.

***

I don’t know why this was on my mind last week (gee, I have no idea why) but I was thinking about when I was in elementary school and our teachers had us do drills where we had to hide under our desks in case of a nuclear attack. Apparently, they believed that those old metal desks along with our trapper keepers placed over our heads we’re going to protect us from the apocalypse. We also had to do tornado drills where we went into the hallways and crouched down together so if a tornado ripped the roof to our little school off, we’d all go up in the air together, I guess.

***

I spent the one day a couple weeks ago, editing Beauty From Ashes more and finding all my overused words or phrases. For example, my characters have eyebrow and chest problems. Their eyebrows are often “furrowed” and their chests are always “constricting.” Oy.

I went in and changed a lot of those, if not for the readers’ sake then for mine. I’m also removing a lot of “sighs”, “eye rolls” and “nodding moments.”

***

Little Miss just told me she wants to keep her wisdom teeth when she gets older because “I think that’s where your wisdom is, and it keeps you from talking stupid later.”

I suggested wisdom is found in a person’s brain instead and she said, “Maybe, but I think there is a little wisdom in both places.”

I told my dad her theory and he said, “Well, I still have my wisdom teeth and I still say stupid things all the time so I don’t know . . .”

***

I was raised by a very nurturing woman, so it has been a challenge for me over the years to live with men in my house who don’t want to be nurtured when they are sick. If I offer to make them tea or soup or anything I often get rebuffed with, “I’m fine. I don’t need anything. I’m not hungry.”

They walk around the house talking about sore throats or their heads hurting or how they think their nose is going to explode, but when they’re offered some help they deny being sick enough to need assistance. If I don’t pay attention to them, though? Well, then there is simply a lot more sighing and comments about how bad they feel and the cycle starts all over again.

***

On Monday of last week, I went back to that bank where the crazy car accident that I mentioned in a recent Sunday Bookends post. To give you the shortened version, a woman pulled up next to me at the bank, hit her accelerator instead of her brake and drove the car straight into the curb in front of the bank a few times, ripped the car into reverse without taking her foot off the accelerator and the car shot back, past my van, somehow missing it and a stop sign, did two doughnuts, then turned around the right way and slammed into the front of our local newspaper office. Somehow, neither she or anyone else was injured.


I have to admit that I was pretty nervous about going back to the bank two days later to cash a check, but I figure lightning doesn’t strike the same place twice so I should be good. This, of course, is a fallacy that people toss around all the time since this summer a man came into my husband’s newspaper office to tell my husband how he, indeed,  had been struck by lightning twice. Luckily, this did not happen to me and I was able to complete my business and leave without incident.

The ladies at the bank and I still don’t know how the woman avoided my vehicle when she yanked that thing into reverse, and we chatted about that as I cashed my check.


The woman who works there, a family friend, said it was nothing other than “God’s protection on me.” I think she’s right and I’m thankful for it.

***

We finally received some warmer weather this week and yesterday the kids and I went outside, swooping our caps in front of our faces and screaming, “The sun!! The sun!” because we felt like vampires after being inside for so long.

Our animals went out with us and as is common with them all three of them followed us up and down the street. We look like some weird animal trainers or something, the way they follow us up and down. Of course, when I try to get the kitten back in the house (so she doesn’t get hurt or climb up a tree again) she takes off on me. She’s not even a kitten anymore, but I still call her the kitten because she is younger.

***

I’m sure I’ll mention this in my Sunday Bookends post this week (because I really have nothing else very exciting to write about) but this week we went from snow on the ground on Monday and the kids playing in it, to 60-degree temperatures and going for walks with thin jackets. Spring in the north can be so weird.

***

So those are my random thoughts for this week.  How about you? Is anything random going on in your world? Feel free to let me know in the comments.

Book Review His Road to Redemption by Lisa Jordan

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn book reviewsLeave a comment

Book title: His Road to Redemption

Author: Lisa Jordan

Genre: Inspirational Romance

Published by: Love Inspired

 

Description:

A veteran in need of a fresh start
will get more than he bargained for…

Veteran Micah Holland’s scars go deeper than anyone knows. An inheritance from his mentor could be a new beginning—if he shares the inherited goat farm with fiercely independent Paige Watson. Now the only way they can keep the farm is to work together. But first Micah must prove he’s a changed man to keep his dream and the woman he’s falling for.

My review: When you read a lot of romance books, they can sometimes become stale and predictable (though Love Inspired books are not usually this way) so when I picked up His Road to Redemption, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I was pleasantly surprised at the way this story was laid out and the unique characters Lisa created. I absolutely loved Micah and his complexity. I loved his tenderness, hidden sometimes under a tough veneer, and I loved how he worked through the challenges of his life without being overly dramatic about it all.

 

When a character with a physical challenge is written about in some books, too much attention is focused on that challenge. In this book, Micah’s physical challenge was mentioned once or twice but didn’t need to be reiterated several times. This made his injury seem normal and part of his every day, which it was. Yes, he was injured at war, but he moved forward through his life and didn’t let it stop him from reaching his goals. Very often, an author tries too hard to push the idea of inclusivity instead of simply making the challenge part of who the person is.

 

After reading this book I will definitely be looking for more Love Inspired books, but especially more by Lisa Jordan. As someone who has met Lisa (but who was not asked to read or give a review of this book), I can tell you that her kind, caring and faith-filled personality comes across in this book. When I put it down, I not only felt good inside but satisfied and for a reader, a satisfying read is everything.

Sunday Bookends: Moriarty, stupid winter weather won’t go away, and All Creatures Great and Small

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn Sunday Bookends6 Comments

Welcome to Sunday Bookends where I ramble about what I’ve been reading, doing, watching, writing and listening to.


What I/we’ve Been Reading

I have been reading the same books I was reading last week. I know. How sad. I don’t know why I didn’t read more this week. I can’t even tell you what I did instead other than some editing on Beauty From Ashes, working on character profiles for a future story, homeschooling, and being depressed a couple of days for various, silly reasons.

I finished Moriarty by Anthony Horowitz during a very rare marathon reading session I held during Saturday’s snowstorm (see below). I curled up under the covers with two cats on either end of the bed – one by my head on a pillow and the other one at my feet — while the grinding roar of the neighbor’s snowblower drifted to my ears from the tightly closed window. Downstairs my son chatted and played video games with his friends while my daughter watched cartoons on an old phone. My husband, meanwhile, had curled up for a nap to help him prepare to shovel and snow blow the driveway later in the day.

I knew something was amiss throughout Moriarty but couldn’t figure out exactly what. I had it guessed though long before the end and yelled out, “I knew it!” when it revealed what I had suspected all along. What a mind twist, though. I definitely recommend it, especially if you are a fan of the classic Sherlock Holmes stories. This is written in a similar manner on purpose to make the book fit in well with the originals.

I should have Every Star in the Sky by Sara Davison finished by the end of today. Then I will continue to read a memoir about a woman who left the Mennonite community for a book tour and start either the next book in the All Creatures Great and Small series or a book my husband recommended —Call Me A Cab by Donald Westlake. This will be my first book by Westlake.

Little Miss and I are finishing Emily’s Runaway Imagination for the second time and then we will start Ribsy, also by Beverly Cleary.  

The Boy is reading Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson and I am terribly behind on it because I am supposed to be reading it with him. The Boy is also reading Smoke and Mirrors by Neil Gaiman.

I forgot to ask Hubby what he is reading, but I’ll add it later when I find out.



What’s Been Occurring

Snow, snow, snow. That’s what’s been happening here as Winter 2021-2022 gives its last gasp before moseying on out of here.

We received a few inches on Wednesday of last week and by Thursday it had melted and made way for more snow on Saturday.

On Friday I ran an errand to the local supermarket and I ran in and out without a coat.

The sun was bright, I wanted to open the windows and would have it hadn’t been for a cool breeze. I thought of chasing my children outside, warning them this was their last chance for warmth for a few days, but I gave up. We might as well muddle through this weekend and they can enjoy the warmer weather next week.

The Boy had a couple of friends over and, of course, they got snowed in with us, so I had a house full of teenage boys for a couple of days. My husband and I hid upstairs while they were downstairs playing video games and watching memes or what I see as inane YouTube videos. Little Miss chatted with her friends on the phone while playing stupid online games.

We were going to take the boys home Saturday night but I didn’t know if I liked the idea of them being on the road. I didn’t want to say anything, though, because my husband has a busy day today with some work things and I didn’t want to complicate things even more. We went back and forth about it for a bit, trying to decide, and I texted their parents while my husband went to get gas. While he was at the gas station, down the hill from our house, a wind gust came up and white-out conditions developed. I received a text that announced the boys were staying another night because my husband didn’t feel it was safe to drive.  Whew. Not long after he came back the white-out conditions subsided so I don’t know if that was God answering my prayers about what to do or not. I do know that the wind and blowing snow continued off and on the rest of the night.

We are all expecting this to be our last snowstorm of the season, thankfully.

The next few weeks will be busy for us with various homeschool activities, doctors’ appointments for me and my family, dentist appointments, and an appointment with the dog groomer. Little Miss has also joined gymnastics so that adds another activity to our plate. She attends Awana on Wednesday evenings until the end of April.

What We watched/are Watching

Last week the hubby and I started to watch Chinatown with Jack Nicholson and Faye Dunaway, but got interrupted. Hopefully, we will finish it later this week. We also watched a lot of Night Court and then I had to binge watch all of season 2 of All Creatures Great and Small before today because I didn’t want to pay for another subscription through Amazon. I had purchased a seven-day trial and planned to add PBS Masterpiece to our list of channels until I noticed we already have a couple of kids channels, another PBS channel, Britbox, and Acorn. Streaming is starting to be as expensive as cable at this rate.

I enjoy the new All Creatures Great and Small, even though I originally refused to watch it because I have a soft spot for the original. What I like about the new version is they actually have James with a Scottish accent, instead of a British one, like he had in the original. Since James Herriot (well, James Alfred Wight, which was his real name) was from Glasgow, he would have had a Scottish accent. I guess back in the 70s they didn’t like to be authentic in that way. Watching the show has made me want to go back and finish reading the series. I think I’ll tackle that in the next couple of weeks.

Later this week I may watch Redeeming Love, the controversial movie based on the controversial Christian Fiction Romance by Francine Rivers since it has been put up on Peacock.

I haven’t made my mind up yet about that one. I never read the book and never really had an interest, so I don’t have that much interest in the movie but would like to see what all the fuss is about.



What I’m Writing

I have been writing a few blog posts but haven’t shared all of them yet. Last week I shared:

I am working on a Randomly Thinking post for later this week and will also be working on some rewrites for Beauty From Ashes and maybe a couple other story ideas I have.

What I’m Listening to

I am still listening to the new Elevation Worship album, which I love.

I also really enjoyed Pastor Steven Furtick’s sermon last week:


Now it’s your turn

What have you been reading, watching, listening to or doing? Let me know in the comments.

Fiction Friday: I love how the men in my books interact

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn fiction, Fiction Friday1 Comment

I love the men in my stories and how they interact with each other.

In the Spencer Valley Chronicles, I currently have three men who I write about the most and who are all good friends with each other.

Jason Tanner (Harvesting Hope) and Matt McGee (Beauty From Ashes) went to high school together and Jason met Alex Stone (The Farmer’s Daughter) in college.

The men harass and pick on each other, but are also there for each other during the tough times.

I recently listened to a class with Susan May Warren and James Rubart about how to write male characters in our fiction and realized that while I needed a lot of the tips, I also have the benefit of living with two men who I can draw from when writing from the POV of a man. Am I an expert in writing male characters? Not at all. I still make them sound like a woman more times than not, which is why my husband suggested I remove some of my “internal brooding” moments with Alex from The Farmer’s Daughter. Sure, men do some internal brooding but not as much as women. They have things to do, places to be, and, luckily, men can compartmentalize so they don’t spend every second debating their “feelings” about every single situation.

I had Alex being way too introspective in The Farmer’s Daughter, even with my husband’s changes, but, well, Alex was at an emotional crossroads in his life, so he was doing a bit more soul-searching than other times in his life.

Today I thought I’d share some of my favorite interactions between the men in my books, just for fun. If you haven’t read the books, be warned, there are some spoilers here:

When Alex had moved to Pennsylvania, he soon realized watching the Philadelphia Phillies every Saturday afternoon that they played was a requirement in the Tanner family, whether he liked it or not. He, Jason, and their friend Matt McGee had laid out a spread of subs, chips, and sodas, kicked off their shoes and flopped onto couches and chairs, ready for a baseball binge.

“Alex Stone sounds like the name of some guy from a romance novel.” Matt playfully punched Alex in the shoulder and handed him a soda. “Anyone ever tell you that?”

Jason smirked. “How would you know about the names of characters in romance novels?”

“Hey, I had sisters growing up. They all liked those romance garbage novels. You know, the romances with the cookie-cutter plots. The ones with happy endings that made you want to gag because you knew it wasn’t real.”

“Yeah, just like the movies based on them,” Alex offered, cracking open a soda. He took a sip. “Girl with big career comes back to her hometown for a visit down on her luck.”

“Girl runs into an old boyfriend,” Jason said.

Alex mockingly sighed. “Old boyfriend brings back hard memories, but then old boyfriend tries to apologize for all he’s done.”

“Girl falls for old boyfriend again,” Matt said.

Jason grabbed a handful of peanuts from the bowl and shoved them in his mouth. “Old boyfriend screws up again and girl goes back to big city.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “But old boyfriend realizes he’s a screw-up and that he really loves her and follows her to the city.”

“He tells her he’s always loved her.” Matt took a sip from his soda. “And she tells him she’s always loved him.”

“And everyone lives happily ever after,” Jason concluded.

Alex choked out a gagging noise. The three men looked at each other, pretending to wipe tears from their cheeks.

“Cookie-cutter plots full of clichés.” Matt poked Alex in the chest. “And you, Alex, are one of those clichés. Alex Stone. The handsome cowboy with the six-pack who comes to steal the girl away from the boring, uptight rich guy in the city.”

Alex lifted his shirt and looked at his flat, but slightly paunchy stomach, pushing at the soft flesh. “I’d love to have a six-pack, but I think I would need to work out a little more.”

Jason opened a bag of chips and reached for the remote. “Or just work more period.”

“Oh, geez, thanks, bud.” Alex elbowed Jason in the ribs.

Then there was this interaction between Matt and another friend, Troy, when Alex revealed (spoiler alert) he had an interest in Molly.

“We haven’t seen you at the bars lately,” Troy said as the waitress brought the drinks. “What’s up with you?”

I’m growing up, Alex wanted to say.

“Just been enjoying some solitude,” he said instead, deciding not to add that he was actually enjoying that solitude with Molly when they could find time alone.

He found it uncanny that at the exact moment he thought of Molly, she appeared out front of the restaurant, talking to the librarian. What was the librarian’s name again? He thought Molly had said her name was Ginny. They’d been attending art classes together.

He smiled as an idea struck him; a way to make his friends think he hadn’t lost his way with women, when he knew he had and didn’t mind at all.

“What do you boys think about Jason’s sister? She’s good looking, right?”

Matt raised an eyebrow. “Um. Yeah. She is, but you better not be noticing.”

Alex laughed, looking out the window at Molly. “Why?”

“Because Jason will kick your butt for checking out his little sister,” Matt answered with a tone that signaled he thought Alex had lost his mind.

Troy shrugged. “I don’t know, she’s a little too big for me. Nice girl, though.”

Alex took a sip of his soda, still watching Molly talking with the librarian, and then smirked.

“She’s just right for me. I like a girl with some meat on her bones.” He winked at his friends. “More for me to hold on to.”

Matt rolled his eyes. “Dude. You’re so going to end up with a bloody nose if Jason ever hears you talking like this.”

Troy laughed and punched Alex in the arm.

“Yeah, seriously, Stone, you better watch it. Jason will kick your butt to next week if he hears you talking like that about her.”

Alex looked at Troy and Matt and rubbed his thumb and index finger along his unshaven chin. “I bet I can get her to go out with me.”

Matt shook his head. “You’re too old for her. She doesn’t want to go out with an old man like you.”

Alex’s grin widened. “Hey, she’s only a couple years younger than me. I bet you she will.” He stood up from the table. “I’ll be right back.”

“Dude! Don’t make an idiot out of yourself!” Troy called after him.

“More than you already are anyhow,” Matt added with a laugh.

Then there was later, in Harvesting Hope, after Alex and Molly were seeing each other and Jason had to put up with the two of them sneaking kisses in the barn.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Alex’s arms slid around Molly’s waist, pull her close.

“Save that for later.” His tone denoted a touch of teasing, even though he was serious. “We’re behind schedule.”

Molly and Alex locked gazes, small smiles playing at the corners of their mouth. It was obvious they were ignoring Jason’s attempt at wielding authority. He’d have to start the milking without them.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Alex pull Molly closer and lower his mouth to hers. Revulsion tinged with jealousy swirled in his stomach. Revulsion over Alex kissing his little sister right there, outside the barn door where Jason had to see it; jealousy because he wished he was holding Ellie the same way. He didn’t know if she’d ever let him hold her that way again.

Alex playfully bumped him in the arm on his way to gather the feed several moments later, grinning. “There’s always time for a sweet kiss from your sister, buddy.”

Jason choked out a gagging noise. “Dude, seriously. No. Just no. Never talk that way about my sister around me again. Especially not this early in the morning.”

There were moments he regretted convincing Alex to move in with him and work on the farm, for example right now, bogged down with thoughts of Alex kissing Molly. Most days, though, Alex was part of the family, as much as a brother as he was a best friend.

I also wrote about Jason dealing with his best friend and sister dating later in the book:

The front door slammed open, bringing Alex and a gust of wind into the room and jostling Jason from his memories.

This was present day Alex. Alex several years older but in some ways the same ole’ Alex. Well, hopefully not exactly the same, since he was dating Molly now.

The crash of thunder and rush of pounding rain roared into the living room, quieting only when Alex pushed the door closed, his clothes clinging to him. Sliding his cowboy hat off, he propped it on the hook next to the door, then paused and looked at Jason, sprawled on the couch on his back.

“All the lights are off and you’re listening to sad country music. This can’t be good.”

“It’s not sad music. It’s Chris Ledoux.”

“Who you only listen to when you’re sad.” A crack of thunder rattled the window and lightening lit the sky outside.

Alex winced as he pried his wet button-up shirt off and tossed it toward the laundry room. It landed in the hallway, and Jason hoped he would pick it up this time. “Thinking about Ellie?”

Jason tipped his head back against the arm of the couch, his long legs stretched across the faded grey cushions, one arm laying across his forehead, the other one hanging off the couch.

“Yeah. And Lauren.”

Alex reached up and flicked on the light switch. “Ah, man, no. Not a good combination. You can’t sit here alone reflecting on past mistakes. It’s not healthy.”

Jason burped and reached for the can of soda on the coffee table without sitting up. Alex kicked at an empty bag of potato chips on the floor. “Um… this isn’t healthy either. Where are your regular veggie sticks and protein shakes?”

Alex pulled his wet tank top off and walked behind the couch toward the hallway leading to the bathroom. “Listen, I’m going to go get dried off and changed. When I come back, you better tell me what’s up.”

“Will you have your shirt on when you come back? Because I don’t need to see that.”

Alex scoffed and slapped his hand against his bare chest. “Of course, you need to see this. Who doesn’t?”

“You really want me to answer that?”

“Yeah, well —”

“If you say Molly likes to see that, I will get off this couch and mess up your pretty boy face.”

Alex raised his hands in a surrender motion. “Okay. Okay. Calm down, big boy.”

And for a sneak peek of Beauty From Ashes, an interaction between Matt and Jason during a hunting trip:


Matt knelt next to the animal and drew his knife. “Too bad he rolled down here. It won’t be fun carrying him out.”

Jason lifted his arms and flexed his arm. “Leave that to me, puny man,” he said in a thick European accent. “I can carry your haul for you. When you’re done, you go ahead and get ATV and I’ll meet you at access road.”

Matt leaned back on his heels and quirked an eyebrow. “Puny man? Really? Just because your muscles are as big as my head doesn’t mean I am a puny man, Tanner. I’m perfectly capable of carrying my deer to the access road. Plus, let me point out that I got a deer today and you didn’t, remember?”

Jason laughed.  “Hey, come on. It’s barely nine in the morning. I don’t have to be back at the farm for a couple more hours. I still have time to get one.” He leaned over and poked Matt’s bicep. “But you, little man, don’t have time to build up muscle before we need to carry this deer out.” He laughed again as he swung his gun onto his shoulder. “Seriously, I’ll head down for the ATV. It will take me a while to hike down and by then you should have this dressed and carried down.”

Jason was right, of course. Matt wasn’t as muscular as him. Having played football in high school and college, plus lugging heavy hay bales and farm equipment around every day, Jason did have a lot more upper body strength than Matt and almost anyone Matt knew.

I’m looking forward to writing more interactions between these men in a future book that will focus on Alex and more of his backstory.