Author, Wife, Mother

Long Time

The last time I posted was in March, and I had written about change and how inevitable, tough, and strange it is. Since then, I have gone through even more change with the addition of my new little one born into my family in August. There is good change and bad change in each of our lives, and I've known that since I was young as I experienced moving house, siblings leaving for college, marriage, or missions, and simply by growing up. However, I have never known change quite like this before with having a child. And it is the best thing that's ever happened to me.

My dream has always been to be an author, wife, and mother, not necessarily in that order, and I have been so blessed to experience each of those already in my life.

Author

I never thought I would publish a book so young, let alone ever. It had always been a dream, but I had simply planned on waiting until I was in my later years, my children had grown and married, and I had more time to branch out in my writing.

I started at a young age with stories of my favorite Disney character, Pocahontas, writing spin-offs of her life in the forest. Then I progressed to little girls riding horses in the mountains, eating candy their mother had bought for them, and having sleepovers that held the promise of romantic movies watched all night long. Next came the short stories filled with girls and the crushes they had on the neighbor boys, always based off personal experience, of course. Eventually, around age 13, I really moved into the romance genre, trying my hand at westerns, regencies, medieval, and fantasy romances. However, with each longer story I attempted to write, I became stuck and wouldn't finish, thinking the romance didn't seem real, the characters seemed too dramatic, and the endings too cheesy.

Deciding to take a break from my romance novels, I began writing poetry in high school and realized my love for that. I generally wrote rhyming poems but eventually branched out into what I do today, free verse. I also was Editor-in-Chief for my high school yearbook and was in charge of reading, writing, or editing all of the stories on each page.

After I graduated, I attended Utah State University and knew I wanted to major in English with an emphasis in Creative Writing. It took a year or two to finally get into the program, and I couldn't wait to get writing full-time for my classes. However, I wasn't as pleased as I had hoped to be. In fact, I grew to find writing tedious for the classes I attended. I was made to write short stories that people in the class would enjoy reading, rather than what I wanted to write myself, so my end result never was as good as I felt it could've been. And it frustrated me to no end. I thought I had made the wrong decision in choosing Creative Writing, as I soon dreaded attending classes.

However, everything changed, myself, my life, my writing, when I met my future husband, Christian.

Wife

Christian and I met when we both attended Utah State. We lived in the same apartment complex and first laid eyes on each other at a church retreat our neighborhood held. I saw this handsome, dark-haired, brown-eyed man standing underneath a tree and was immediately attracted to him. We stood in a circle, my roommates and his, waiting for the rest of the people to get there, and everyone went around and introduced themselves, apart from me. I was far too shy to say anything at all, unfortunately.

I tried to keep my eyes off the handsome man, but when he introduced himself, I couldn't help but whip my head back as an English accent proceeded forth from his mouth. Was it real? Oh, yes. Yes, it was. I had been obsessed with the UK for ages, especially after watching countless hours of all Jane Austen novel remakes, and of course, wanting a Mr. Darcy of my own, so seeing a real English gentleman, not unlike Mr. Darcy himself, standing before me, was astonishing, to say the least.

To cut a year long courtship short, Christian and I stared at each other all day, but neither of us approached the other for an entire month when he finally asked for my number. We had our first date in October, our first kiss in December, said we loved each other in February, and then became engaged the next October, and married by January 2011. I had never met anyone like Christian before. He was so kind and attentive, so intelligent and hard working, and so supportive of my dreams of becoming a mother and author. I attribute most of my accomplishments in life to him. I couldn't have done much in my life if it weren't for my family and my wonderful husband.

And because of our love for each other, I was able to write A Secret Fire, my first romance novel finished and published. I finally knew what real love was, what heartache and sacrifice was, what compassion and caring was, and with that knowledge, I could write more honestly than ever before.

With Christian's support and encouraging, I was able to have a book published before I graduated college and had children, something I never thought possible. But I still felt a gap in my life. And I knew it could only be filled with children.

Mother

I graduated college before having a child, a decision I felt would be best for my family, but it was a long two years for me after marriage to wait to have a baby. I remember taking care of my dolls ever since I was little, always wanting a real one. Nieces and nephews only spurred that desire on, and when I knew I was graduating, finally, it was my turn.

Being pregnant and still attending school was tough, especially feeling nauseated for three months, but knowing what was growing inside me was worth everything. We didn't want to find out what the child was, deciding it would be exciting to see on the day he or she would be born. But boy, was it hard! I was certain it was a boy, thinking there was no way I would have a girl first, but Christian was sure I was wrong.

After nine long months of waiting and not being able to decorate the nursery or buy one set of clothes, August 20th rolled around, a week past the baby's due date, and I was in labor. Seventeen hours later, Christian announced to me that we had a little baby girl. My mouth dropped, and I looked to my new daughter, still not believing it. And since that moment two months ago of seeing her dark hair, and little, slightly turned up nose, I have felt happier than ever before. I wake up each morning with a sense of purpose, responsibility, and love. It is incredible being a mother. Hard, yes, and this is only with one child, but every feeding, diaper changing, burping, and holding while she screams into my ear is so worth it, so satisfying, and I love it. It is incredible that a loving Heavenly Father trusts each of us on earth to take care of His children. It is overwhelming when I really understand what a huge responsibility I have to do my best in raising this beautiful daughter of His. And I feel so blessed to have His trust.

Dreams Come True

Now, after each of my dreams have come true, marriage, published author, and mother, I get to create new dreams and hope to continue to accomplish them with the help of my family and Heavenly Father. Change can be difficult, but it can also be a great blessing. And ultimately, it depends on us to see it that way.

Change

It's strange how hard change can be sometimes, but when it comes, there's no stopping it. My little sister recently left to serve a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. She was so excited to go, but it is never easy for the people being left behind. I've been thinking about change and how inevitable it is, and a poem surfaced because of it. So in order to overcome fears of sharing my poetry and writing (yes, still) and in order to clear my mind, here is my peom, "Shifting Seashores."

Shifting Seashorses

I run my finger along the ribbed edges

of the creamy orange clam shell,

the Scottish seaside lapping, tickling my legs

as I tread through its chilly water, my feet

displacing the sand underneath me,
never going back
to where it started.

Gaze into the knee-high liquid,
see another shell,
purple specks on a blue background,
curves of flawless porcelain
in the shape of an ocean’s wave frozen in place.
It’s smaller, so I place it in my pocket
to keep with the others. More water seeps
through my jean’s thick fabric,
still infusing my upper thigh with its cold touch.
And my lips curve into a smile.

Soon, The Jacobite’s horn behind me moans
the impending departure to Loch Linnhe.
I tiptoe to my shoes placed above
the water’s reach on a jagged
boulder, leave the graying laces
untied before transferring the multicolored,
fragile shells to my backpack, careful
to avoid cracking them.
I want them unbroken,
constant, fully formed forever.

Shivers scatter through my limbs

as jacket goes on and pant legs roll down.
Walk back to the red and black
painted train, and I try to avoid looking
at what is now behind me,
the shifting seashore
of revolving waves and travelling sands,
of frail clouds and easily-swayed
shells, all things that will never
remain the same.

The shore all but gone, I climb the steps

of the train, gasp when my foot trips
over my ragged shoelace,
and the contents of my unzipped backpack,
my constant seashells,
scatter across the solid flooring,
each shell unfixable
and shattered into pieces.

A Brand New Year

It's Been Awhile

Has it really been three months since I last updated this? I guess I’ve been a touch busy. I was able to finish up my last Fall semester in December at Utah State University and am looking forward to graduating (finally) in May of this year! I made it alive through Christmas, even being kept from family on Christmas Eve because of a snow storm, but it was still great! I celebrated my two year anniversary with my husband by going to Park City, and all in all, it was a pretty great end to 2012 and start to 2013.

I’ve been trying to decide what to write about the past few weeks, knowing I’d been slacking on my posts, but nothing has come to my mind. My husband suggested writing about my new goals for the year, so I suppose now is as good as time as any! I don’t like making resolutions because I always seem to break them. I think it’s because I call them ‘resolutions’.  So, instead, I call them goals.

So. My goals for the new year? I’ve only come up with a few, but they’re important to me because they’re things I’ve slacked on the past few years due to being FAR too busy with school and having no time for anything else.

Goal 1

I have made myself a promise that I would read more books. Not only does reading more books help my writing, but it also relaxes me, transports me to a different world, and that is a welcome relief to any with a busy schedule.  I recently read a book by Sarah M. Eden, that being the first book in months that I read that wasn’t a textbook. I was reawakened to my love for it, and I’m determined not to let that go again.

Goal 2

I am going to write more! Yes, I’ve written bits and pieces here and there, but after taking a creative writing course, my steam lessened a bit, mostly because I was being forced to write things I didn’t want to write (see my previous post, Forced!!!) and things that were never good enough for my teachers. Anyway, after that class and semester, I was feeling a little down and out. However, when I finally wrote something for myself during Christmas break, I fell in love with it again. So I promised myself to write more. This is also a good thing, because I’ve been working on a new story! No date for when it’s set to be released, and no sneak peeks or hints, but I can say, it will be a regency romance! I’ve loved all things regency since I was a little girl, and after visiting Bath and the Jane Austen Centre in England this past summer, I was reminded how obsessed I am with the regency time still!

Goal 3

I have a problem with choosing the easier way to do things. So my third goal is to push myself. If I have the choice between writing and watching The Office re-runs thirty times a day, I choose the latter. It’s easier, my brain shuts off, and I don’t have to worry about a thing. This seriously needs to stop. If I have the choice between going outside to get the mail or watching The Office, I choose, again, the latter. THIS seriously needs to stop. Pretty much my third goal needs to simply be ‘stop watching The Office so much’. In all seriousness, I know it will never stop, but I can lessen it. I will lessen it!

Goal 4

This includes lots of little goals that I just need to do to improve myself. They aren’t that fun, so I’ve written them down elsewhere to avoid you seeing too much into my life of faults. :)

Anyway, I hope all of you have had as wonderful a Christmas, New Year, 2012, and start to 2013 as I have! I can’t wait to start writing and reading more, and hope you all find time to do the same!

Happy reading!

Deborah

Random Fact About A Secret Fire #4

Forced to Write

Any of you who have ever taken a class where you are required to write a piece of creative writing fiction can understand how frustrating it is to be forced to write. In my experience, nothing good ever comes out of the pencil or fingers when someone is constantly hovering over my shoulder, commanding I write this way or that way, sneering at my ideas, and practically demanding I change part of my soul. A bit dramatic? Probably. Completely true? Absolutely.

Classes

This semester, my last fall semester, has been a rough one, and it's only October! Not that I hate any of my classes. In fact, I quite enjoy the majority of them, which doesn't happen quite often. The reason this semester has been so hard on me is because of the Advanced Creative Writing class I have to take. Yes. HAVE to. I love writing. It is my greatest passion in life. Nothing relieves my concerns or lifts my spirits like writing can. But, not when it is, again, forced out of me.

We have to write a short story for the class, which will then go through the workshop process. For those of you who don't know or haven't experienced a workshop, it can be a very helpful opportunity for writers of all levels. I've loved workshops, as it gives me the other eyes I need on my work. It can be very hard to sit there silently as you listen to everything that is wrong with your work, but all in all, it can be very beneficial.

The hardest thing for me when it comes to workshops in classes, however, is that those reading it are being forced to read it, just like I was forced to write the piece. Double negative. Double negative. Not fun.

If you didn't want to write the piece, and the people reading it don't want to read the piece, I find it hard to believe that anything positive or constructive will come naturally out of the work.

That is why the semester has been rough. And that is why I write when it's not forced. Because when I write when I have to, I tend to take a negative approach which inevitably leads to some of my worst work I've ever seen.

Take a Breath

Wow. As you can see, the frustration of forced writing has really gotten to be lately. Which is exactly why I needed to write this blog post. So I can write something I want to write for people who want to read it! Because if you're reading this right now, I know it's not because you're forced to. It's because you're genuinely interested. And I appreciate it! Thank you!

Lucky You

And so, for sticking with me through my ranting and raving, you now get to read about my fourth random fact for writing A Secret Fire.

Shocking

It was for me, anyway, that my book was published. After all, I was not planning on having it published, let alone having it leave my eyes to anyone else. I wrote it solely because Emma and Thatcher's story needed to be told.

I had the idea for so long that it was festering inside me, screaming at me each and every day. It wanted to be on paper. It needed to be on paper. And when I finally relented, it took off like I could never have imagined.

I was so excited how it was turning out that I couldn't help myself. I blurted out to my little sister that I was writing a story. A story that I was going to finish.

Embarrassing

I do not want to admit this, but I have to. Mostly because you've stuck with me for this long, you might as well get something funny out of all of this.

Before A Secret Fire, I had never finished a story. In my life. I had never finished anything. The only final drafts I've ever had of things were of my poems. Not even short stories had a I fully finished. This, for a Creative Writing major, is kind of ridiculous. My problem was that I couldn't finish anything because I was afraid of what people would think of what I was writing. Once I started worrying, the story went downhill, and so did my confidence.

So What Was Different

I finally decided, with A Secret Fire, that I was going to write it for me and me alone. Then, in that way, I didn't have to worry about what other people would think. I realized that I had control over it. I didn't have to let anyone read it but me!

Aftermath

Finally, after writing half of my story, I gave it to my sister, Marinda. Again, we were both shocked that I got that far. Marinda had always read everything that I have written, and she always told me that she was disappointed when I never finished anything. So, when I told her that I was for sure going to finish it, and I was already a good eighty pages in, she couldn't wait to read it (I hope, at least).

I gave it to her and waited what seemed like ages. To my sheer delight, however, she finished it within hours! She told me that she really enjoyed reading it, and this boosted my confidence like no other. She's always been great with my writing, but she can't lie, so I knew I should feel good!

After that, I had the courage to give it to my husband, he read ten pages in (a huge deal for a man to read a romance novel) and he said it was really good, too. Now, this man cannot lie. Seriously. He can't. Which is a wonderful trait to have. :)

Decision

It was a huge decision to have the book published. I didn't want to at first, because of my worrying, but after the encouragement of my family, I was able to let go of my fears and let my story out to the world!

THANK YOU!

I just wanted to give a huge thank you to those of you who have read my book. It was such a big deal to me to have people read my work, but each time I receive any feedback on it, I am so grateful that I did it and that my family and husband were there for me.

I really appreciate each and every one of you that have read A Secret Fire! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I loved writing it! Thank you thank you thank you to all of you!!

Until next time, happy reading!

Deborah

Random Fact About A Secret Fire #3

Oh, Nancy Jane

Questions

Many people have asked me where the inspiration for Nancy Jane came from. Was she based off of someone from my past? How did I come up with the nasty things she did to Emma in A Secret Fire?

The Answer

*This post includes a few small spoilers*

I don’t really know. I mean, we’ve all had those people in our lives, be they boys or girls, that have ruined certain days, sometimes years, for us. But was there just the one?

 

No. Not for me, anyway. Nancy Jane is not based on anyone specific that I knew. She was mainly the accumulation of people I had witnessed being rude to others, people who I have interacted with myself years back, and people who I can imagine are out there tormenting everyone with their pompous and degrading attitudes.

I remember seeing television shows and movies, reading books, and seeing in real life when the ‘bad girl’ would always end up just being ignored, and that was the only pleasure the victim would receive. I did not want this to happen in A Secret Fire, mainly for Emma’s sake. I wanted Emma to feel empowered, to be able to stand up to the bully in her life, and to feel, for once in her life, that she was in charge. However, I did not want her to be as rude to Nancy Jane as she was to Emma, because then she’s just as much in the wrong, and that is just not who Emma is.

So, as we read in A Secret Fire, I came up with a way to have Emma stand up for herself, but not be nasty, this being, in my opinion, the best way to handle certain situations with bullies of every kind. But of course, as the author, I could be a bit crueler than Emma could, so I allowed the pink-clad Nancy Jane to get what was coming to her: a nice dousing in some horse-spit water!

Confession & Conclusion

I must admit, however, that I enjoyed writing Nancy Jane Tilman’s part in the novel. She brought out another complication in the story, as well as another way to allow Emma’s character to shine through the writing. My favorite part was being able to write about Nancy Jane’s clothing and accent. She reminds me of the annoying Gertie Cummings on the musical, Oklahoma: always giggling and getting in the way of true love!

I’ve also considered writing a branch off of A Secret Fire where I tell Nancy Jane’s story, but I just don’t know if I could do it. I’d either have to keep her as nasty as a flea or change her into something as sweet as a Georgia Peach, and I just don’t know if I could decide between the two! So, for now, I’ll keep Nancy Jane just as she is: flirting, scowling, and sopping wet.

Until next time, happy reading!

Deborah

 

 

Random Fact About A Secret Fire #2

My Obsession

For as long as I can remember, I have loved horses. There is something special about them, the way their muscles jult when they run, how their hair literally flows in the wind. To me, there is nothing more beautiful than those graceful animals.

How It Came To Be

It started at a very young age, my love for the animals, and although there were many reasons for it, I will share the most memorable experience. The first time I can remember feeling moved at seeing horses run was when one of my older brothers and his friend watched Return to Snowy River. (If any of you have not seen this movie and love horses and Australia and romance and anything and everything good in this world, you need to watch it.) I was very young, and, of course, my brother didn't want to have his annoying sisters around, so I stayed in my room which was right next to the livingroom which was where they were watching it.

I remember they sat down and ate lunch as the movie started, and I was instantly intrigued by the beautiful music I heard coming from behind the wall. And then I heard the pounding of horse hooves against solid earth, the whinnies coming from running horses, and the crack of the whip above all else.

I remained silent in the room, trying to hear as much as I could, but it soon got to the point where I couldn't hear enough! So, sneaky as I was at so young an age, I silently walked into the kitchen so my brother would think I was simply moving from room to room, and then I got on my hands and knees and crawled around the livingroom wall. I hunched behind the couch the boys were sitting on and held my breath, praying they wouldn't hear me. When no movement was heard in front of me, I relaxed more, and peered slightly around the couch so I could see the small TV with only my right eye.

And there I sat for nearly two hours, completely enthralled with what I was seeing. The romance in it was superb, the horses were fantastic, and the dirt flying up from the black horse's hooves was empowering! I loved every second of it and was highly disappointed when it came to an end.

So, with a crook in my neck and a sore back, I scurried back into the kitchen, stood upright, and sauntered to my room, proud of myself for my little deception. I didn't feel bad, though I probably should have. Instead, I justified it by telling myself that I would never had been introduced to that wonderful movie if I had not been so sneaky. And to this day, I'm glad I did it! (Sorry to my brother and his friend for the public confession. I hope you can forgive me.)

My Birthday & Christmas Wish

And so it began, my obsession with horses. From that point on, every single birthday and Christmas I celebrated I asked for a horse. Seriously. Every single one. Not one has gone by when I have not asked for a horse. And I still do, and will continue to until my wish comes true! Of course I never expected to get one; I had done my research (even at the young age) to know what they cost. But without fail, just as long as I had asked, my parents would buy me a horse! A stuffed one, that is. But each one I received was still just as precious to me as anything. I still have them all, some fifteen of them, on my bed or in my spare room.

When I started dating my husband, he knew how obsessed I was with the animals, and I didn't even have to ask him to get me a horse (even though I did when he asked what I wanted...I was only joking, of course...), because on my birthday, he took me horseback riding! It was the most wonderful thing ever, and I'll never forget how happy I was!

How I Deal With It

Though it's hard to not have something I desperately want/need, I get by with the wonderful horse presents each year, watching Man From Snowy River, Return to Snowy River, Hidalgo, and the Heartland series constantly, and by, and this is the most obvious to readers of A Secret Fire, including them in my writings!

Spitfire & Sweet Tooth

I knew I wanted to add so much more in A Secret Fire about horses, but I knew it wasn't crucial to the integrity of the novel, so I restrained myself and included what I thought was an adequate amount. I have read stories where the author knows so much about something that he/she puts in an excess amount of information in the story that just bogs it down, and that is not what I wanted to have in A Secret Fire.

So, instead, I only put a few scenes in with Emma and her horse, Spitfire, and Thatcher and his horse, Sweet Tooth. Those are some of my favorite scenes, when a horse is involved, because it adds another dimension, another character, to the storyline. And having an animal be a character always adds another interesting way to see the main characters' behaviors and quirks.

As for choosing the names of the horses, I knew I needed to choose ones that I liked, and that I knew that Thatcher and Emma would've liked, too.

Emma's was named Spitfire because it is the complete opposite of Emma. Emma goes to Spitfire when she needs to unwind and let herself go, and she can only do this with her horse. Having a horse named Spitfire gives Emma some of the courage and strength she needs to let go of her worries at certain times.

Thatcher's was named Sweet Tooth because that is exactly what Thatcher has. He has a hankering for all things sweet, but shows it at only certain points of the novel. Also, described in A Secret Fire, we hear that Sweet Tooth gets his name from eating "a whole bucket of sugar cubes as a colt." This shows that Sweet Tooth, like his master, can't stop himself from eating something sweet and devouring the whole thing!

The End of My Long-Winded Explanation

And so, with having such an obsession with horses, I was able to add another dimension to the characters in A Secret Fire, and I hope you've all been able to see that come about!

Until next time,

Happy Reading!

Deborah

Find A Secret Fire at http://www.asecretfire.com/

Random Fact About A Secret Fire #1

Favorite Names

For years, I've been obsessed with the name William. I can't remember how it came about, but I believe that there is no stronger, handsome a name in the world. So when I saw A Knight's Tale, that wonderful movie with dreamy Heath Ledger playing a stalwart knight named William Thatcher, I fell in love with the name even more and promised myself I would name my son "William" someday. And that was at age twelve.

Well, I still have that desire, some ten years later, and am dead set on making it happen (and luckily my husband likes the name, too)!

William?

Whenever I wrote stories, before I figured out a male character's name, I would always slip in "William" until I found the real ones, but William has never stuck with any character, and that is for two reasons. One, I don't want my son thinking he was named after a character in my book. I think a girl would be okay with it, but not a boy. And CERTAINLY not after a romance book. And two, the name is so special to me that I want to save it solely for a future son (and hopefully the name fits him!)

How Thatcher Came to Be

So, I had a dilemma. I wanted the main male character in A Secret Fire to have a good, solid name, but what name could compare to William?

I've loved the name "Thatcher" since I'd seen A Knight's Tale, but there were two problems again. One, it's a LAST name, not a first. And two, my husband (and family) didn't see the sense in naming a son "Thatcher." Years before, I had always thought it a strong name and wanted to name another son that, but, I gave in and agreed that we wouldn't name our future son "Thatcher." But it was hard, I tell you! How could I NOT name my son "Thatcher"?

And then it hit me. Thatcher was the man in A Secret Fire. There was no doubt about it. I brainstormed for a few more weeks, but nothing else came close to the name, not even William! And I won in so many ways by choosing this: because I got to name someone "Thatcher," because I finally found the solid name I'd been searching so long for, because Thatcher makes me think of a strong, handsome man, and because I absolutely love the name!

His Last Name

Then came choosing Thatcher's last name. I wanted something different and strong to match his first, so I thought long about this one, too. I scanned through phone books, school directories, baby name books, the credits on movies, the graveyard I walked through every day to get to school, but nothing popped out at me. I knew I wanted some strong, almost harsh letters to match the "ch" in
"Thatcher," so the name "Deacon" caught my eye while I was browsing the internet one day. I loved the fierce sounds of the "d" and "c". But, I didn't like the spelling because it seemed almost too preachy. That, and it didn't fit at all with his character. So I tweaked the spelling, ending up with the strong "Deakon."

Rest at Last

I couldn't believe when I finally found the name I liked enough to name a character after it, but I was relieved when it happened! There is nothing more freeing than finding that name the character needs, and there is nothing more satisfying than creating a solid name like Thatcher Deakon.

Find A Secret Fire at http://www.asecretfire.com/