Thanks for being here this week, Julie. I’m interested in how you decided to go Indie.

The decision  was a complete God orchestration. Last year I felt a stirring that I could not put my finger on. The more I read devotions, Bible studies, and writing books, the clearer I felt the picture was getting, but I wasn’t sure how to go about changing things. In what I can only explain as God at work, the door opened for me to get the rights back to my work and move forward in obedience to what God was calling me to do.

I created Surrendered Scribe Media. It’s not only the imprint I’ll use for my books, but encompasses everything I’ll do as a speaker and encourager. My heart is to encourage audiences to find freedom through surrender. Fiction writing will be a big part of that, but I hope to do much more.

Going Indie isn’t easy, especially if you want to be a respected mainstay. I spent most of the winter reading and in training on all aspects from cover design, editing, marketing, formatting, and distribution. My husband reminded me that much of what I was learning would carry me through all my projects, not just releasing the Surrendering Time series.

Thanks for sharing the process and challenges, Julie. I have a feeling many authors will relate to and learn from you sharing.

I just have to share my husband’s remarkable photos of a female cardinal warming her eggs. We’re having cool weather again today, and she knows she needs to hang out on her nest.

The pictures we have of the eggs – certainly not robin’s egg blue, but larger and speckled- bring questions to mind.

Does the number of speckles mean anything? Are some eggs more inclined to hold females, others males?     With all these close-ups, I’m realizing this female’s beautiful, though not as striking as her spouse.

The foliage under the mama’s well-positioned nest is burgeoning. Will we get to witness her feed her babies? I hope so, but her husband flashes by often, and it quite territorial. His calls override the robins in the area, and all others.

Seems to me this little homemaker feels secure next to our tall fence, in an obscure corner of the courtyard that is our back yard.

Confident that all will work out just fine. Content to do her tedious work, knowing that the outcome will satisfy.

I can’t help but compare her attitude to mine as I nurture a new women’s fiction novel to its release into the world. Will it be a cold, cruel world, or a warm, accepting one? Will readers embrace Addie, my World War II heroine, as she struggles with her husband’s anger?

I think this little birdie would say, “You’ve done your research. You’ve bided your time. You’ve re-re-re-re-re-re-re-edited, considered criticism, made changes, taken classes, and secured a professional edit, and now, it’s time.

Our mama cardinal’s  steady black eye, her devotion to her babies, and her patience all remind me that daring to bloom holds not simply promise, but challenge. So many have encouraged me along the way. Thanks, Machelle, Jane, Holly, Carolyn, Ann, Julia, Wendi, Bonnie, Diane and Lee, for cheering me on to this point.
And thanks Lance, for working hard to give me the luxury of writing full-time. Readers, Addie’s on her way!

Yes, the sow. The mama swine. The big fat pig, as we farm kids used to call her. The pigs, especially, made a big todo of grunting others aside to gobble down feed from the trough, with the sow in the lead.

Until recent years, nobody kept a “pet pig,” and back then, only the tiniest, pinkest piglets were thought cute. But things have changed. Now, people have a pet everything. The other day, a television show highlighted a woman with a pet iguana that she petted with her fingers.

Anyway, back to the sow. Galway Kinnell, a bright light in the world of poetry, passed from this world in 2014, and his poem fits the heroines of my novels, Heroines Who Dare to Bloom. As anyone who’s ever struggled with self-confidence knows, blooming requires a good self-concept: you believe you’re worthy because you’re a human being, created to be the best you can be. But some people require time to develop this belief.

Please read the entire short poem, Saint Francis and the Sow HERE: http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/171395

I’d like to print it in its entirety, but am careful with copyright issues. Here’s the beginning, and I hope you take a few moments to read the rest.

The bud
stands for all things,
even for those things that don’t flower,
for everything flowers, from within, of self-blessing;
though sometimes it is necessary
to reteach a thing its loveliness . . . 

Galway Kinnell, “Saint Francis and the Sow” from Three Books. Copyright © 2002 by Galway Kinnell. Houghton Mifflin Company.

Kinnell goes on to describe a sow feeding her litter. LIke I said, please read the poem in its entirety to appreciate the context.

It struck me this morning that my literary characters have much in common with this poet’s flower, or the sow he describes as lovely. Somebody outside my heroines must see their beauty, and through touch and words, reteach them their worth.

That’s the beauty of story. As in real life, people and circumstances see in us what we cannot. They believe in us, and eventually we borrow their faith. Once day, we look into the mirror and acknowledge our beauty. All this takes time, and that’s what a novel gives us–time to consider how strength develops, the avenues it opens, and the power of friendship in this proceess.

Someone told me recently she enjoyed Dottie and Al’s mutual progress in believing they’re worthy of good things, worthy of second chances. Lately, I’ve been spending lots of time with another WWII heroine named Addie. She’s coming into her own a little more each day, coming to believe she has a voice she can employ on her own behalf.

The next step, of course, is using her voice to cheerlead others, and I think she’s almost there! I’ll let you know of her appearance during the next few months.