Patchwork or a Winding Road

I started this blog back in 2005 so I could have something to do before my first novel, Rain Song, came out. Waiting for a book to be published, especially your first one by a traditional publisher, can make you feel restless and happy and a little bit uncertain. I named the blog The Patchwork Quilt, and although I have never sewed a quilt, I know many fine people who have. Metaphorically I also know a lot about things that are pieced together.

On this blog, I have done what many authors do----written about my novels and the journey of writing. I've featured other writers and had segments called Cooking with Authors. That's been fun. I've also posted photos and articles about grief and loss. Daniel, who died in 1997, has been a big part of my inspiration.  Then there have been posts on the writing workshops I facilitate and how to attend those. And I've included photos and thoughts about Carl and my wood-engraving business, Carved By Heart.

So this blog does portray a lot of this and a little of that, very patchworky.

Or perhaps it might feel to some like a winding desert road.

But you are with me as we wander or piece bits together. And for that, I am thankful.

So here is to you, my readers. Keep being part of my uncertain and colorful journey.

Checking in with Author Rose Chandler Johnson

  

Join me today with my guest, Rose Chandler Johnson, who has a new novel out. New novels are always exciting for readers. This one has a lake, something I'm quite fond of. And romance, and it's Southern. Those three are always enticing combinations.

". . . a tender story of healing and finding a place to belong. This sweet Southern romance doesn't disappoint."  ~ Liz Talley

More about this novel . . .

Robin Lancaster, a twenty-six-year-old former kindergarten teacher, has her summer and her life all figured out. She’s ready to be on her own, writing and illustrating her children’s stories at her family’s beloved lake house. Once there, she intends to rekindle a romance with Caleb Jackson, the area’s top hunting and fishing guide, and bag him for herself.

Complications arise from the start when Robin finds out her mother has rented the lake house to a man they know nothing about.

Matthew McLaughlin, forty-year-old widowed university professor and author from California, shows up at Pine Lake in crisis. A sabbatical might be his only hope to save much more than his career. He needs a place of refuge. Sharing the lake house with a lighthearted young woman and her dog is the last thing on his mind.

Caleb Jackson has his own plans. He’s used to things going his way, but a man staying in Robin’s house presents unforeseen challenges. When paths unavoidably tangle for these three, hearts are on the line.

 

More about Rose . . .

Rose Chandler Johnson is known for her heartwarming, inspirational writing. In addition to works of fiction, Rose has written an award-winning devotional: God, Me, and Sweet Iced Tea: Experiencing God in the Midst of Everyday Moments. Connect with her on her blog, 

Facebook, or Twitter @rechanjo.

Memoir Writing Workshop

So this morning when I couldn't sleep due to those middle-age night sweats and pain in my left ankle from when Levi, the boxer-dog ran into me, I thought.

I thought about the memoir I've been slaying over, and, after jotting down a few notes in the darkness, I was reminded that I haven't posted on this blog in too long. So on my memo pad, while my husband and boxer slept, I wrote: Write a blog post tomorrow.

Shame on me for not keeping up with posts here. I am not sure what excuse I have but I suppose I could blame it on our business, working on my memoir, and those other aspects of life that worm their way into the day-to-day threads of living, some good, some just frustrating.

Having said that, my memoir is at a good place. I think. Oh, ask me tomorrow. Tomorrow I might want to toss it out the window. This memoir is much harder to get right than any novel I've ever written. Just when I think I'm content with it, I learn something new and realize that some chapters must be re-worked.

The surprising news is this: A fellow author asked me to facilitate a memoir writing workshop, and although I am no expert on the subject, I said YES. I figured that with all the articles, books, and webinars I've poured into my brain on memoir writing, I can share my self-taught knowledge with others. So I'm up for the task.

I've learned about so many of the components of writing a memoir as I've educated myself through the gurus who hang out on the Internet. I've listened to talks on finding themes and plots, structure, and strong starts and significant endings. I've read dozens of memoirs this year, analyzed what I have enjoyed and what I haven't.

But yippee, I get to share my knowledge at a workshop!

The memoir writing workshop starts April 2 and will be held for five weeks at the Princeton Public Library in Princeton, NC. Not Princeton, NJ, so don't head there. The workshop is free; yes, you read that correctly. It is being offered thanks to a grant. The workshop will be given each Tuesday in April from 4 to 6 PM.

For those of you reading who live close enough to Princeton, NC to join me at the workshop, I hope to see you there. Bring a pen you love and a notepad and/or a lap top.

Let's discover the magic of writing memoir together!

Location:
Princeton Public Library
101 Dr. Johnnie H. Jones Jr. Blvd.
Princeton, NC 27569

When Writing Heals

I believe in many things, simple and grand.  I believe in inspiration that comes on a walk on a fall day, that a cup of strong Earl Grey with milk can make almost any bad morning better. I believe in the power of love manifested through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. I believe that when you can forgive---even those who don't ask you to---you are freer than any soaring eagle.

And when life takes a dangerous and sorrowful turn, I believe that pen and paper can heal. As we honestly and freely unleash our heartache onto the page, our hearts and minds go through  transformations. We see our pain on paper and we view it in a new way. From there, as we continue to write, we become stronger, more able to cope and adjust to our situation. This writing for healing is a sacred gift. It has saved me from the moment my four-year-old son died.

I have watched and learned as I've unveiled deep things in my writing.  I've solved problems, understood, gained new perspective. Writing to heal is an extraordinary phenomenon.

I'd love for you to write with me.

My new online writing classes have a few spots open.  I have one class starting September 17 and one on October 22.  Each course is 5-weeks long.  I send out new lessons to your in-box each Monday. You have all week to write on your own, when it's convenient for you. Learn more about my Writing the Heartache Workshop here at my website

Be inspired in the power of writing as you listen to this video that was so kindly created for me by a young man named Wes.

And after that, share here in the comments below how writing has been an avenue of healing for you in your life.

Adding Food to Your Novels

As a compiler of cookbooks and a writer of fiction, I like food in my books. When I created the character, Gideon Miller, for my ex-Amish novel, I knew he had to have foods he liked. Since he's from the Amish country of Pennsylvania, apple butter made sense, and so I showed how he spread apple butter on his toast each morning before heading to work at the auto mechanic shop in Twin Branches, North Carolina (don't look for that on the map; I made that town up). I also let him drink green tea, straying a little from the Amish tradition. He did stray after all; he chose to escape their lifestyle and move to the mountains of North Carolina.

I think showing what a character enjoys eating brings out the fun in a book, as well as makes the men and women in the pages seem human. Food connects us in a fabulous way. Perhaps that's why cookbooks with photos of decadent cakes and latticed pies are so popular.

Speaking of human, Still Life in Shadows is now on audio, narrated by a man.  You can sit back and relax, eat, bake, drive, or garden while listening to the story of Gideon and how he helps dissatisfied youth leave Amish culture and make their home in the English parts of America. You can hear Kiki, the teen who wants to belong, but due to her autism is often misunderstood. You'll meet Ormond, the auto shop owner, and Mari, who works in a tea room where Gideon goes for tea and pie.

If you'd like to listen to Still Life in Shadows and write a review or post something about the novel on your blog, let me know.  I can send you a code to get a free (yes, FREE) audio book.

Simply email me at info@alicewisler.com to get your free audio book!  Happy listening!

If you'd like a print or e-book copy, head over here.

Seeing Your Child's Name

When I showed my friend Jane the plaques we made for her daughter's memorial garden, she loved them.  Carl does the work, so I took no credit, except I did screw in the eye hooks and attached the chain to one of them. You would think I was constructing a new house; it took me much longer than it would have taken an average person to do that task of placing the eye hooks, drilling the hole, screwing them in.  But enough about my lack of skill and slowness. What impressed me and will stick with me about giving the two garden plaques to Jane was what she said after she said she loved them.

"It's so nice to see her name."

A name.  Katelyn.  When Katelyn was born, Jane came up with the spelling of the name, so not only was it her daughter's name, Jane had a part in crafting it.

In the bereaved parents' writing workshops I facilitate, I often have parents say their child's name aloud.  All together we say our child's name, like one big burst of sunlight. Sometimes we go around the room and take turns saying the name of our child. It's a sacred time.

Whenever we get an order at our shop, Carved By Heart, and the buyer has the name Daniel, I love seeing it on the order form.  My heart does a little flip.  This customer is special to me because of his name.  It doens't matter than I don't know the customer personally, I just love seeing his name. After the item is created and  I've wrapped it up, I get to write Daniel on the package. My son's name.  My son who is no longer here.

So when Jane ran her fingers over her daughter's engraved name and smiled, it was a powerful moment.

We do need to see and speak our child's name. Often.  We don't get to call them to dinner anymore, watch them play, or wrap a gift for them. But we can give ourselves a gift by saying his/her name. Aloud. We can have it engraved into pine and see it, too.  Our new butterfly garden plaques are now at our shop on Etsy.

Grief as a Gift

It's been 9 years since I wrote the following for the Open to Hope website. Seems so long ago, and yet, just like yesterday.  I hope this piece will speak to those of you who are dealing with new grief.

Opening Grief as a Gift

Written by Alice Wisler on Sunday, March 8, 2009

By Alice J. Wisler —

Some view grief as a dirty word.

It’s associated with pain, hardship, suffering, endless days of crying and never seeing the sun. It’s hard – tough on the body, spirit and mind. No one wants to have to go through grief. All hope to avoid it.

The Oxford Dictionary defines “grief” as the media does – intense mourning. I know that’s true because when Daniel first died, the agonizing pain was intense. To walk into a store was painful. Seeing my surviving children and knowing that from now on Daniel would not be with us on earth again crushed every nerve.

But the dictionary, like the media, fails to take the meaning of this word a step further. Grief is defined as though it is a process with an ending. This leads our society to believe that one day, you lose your grief, as you have lost your child. As the years have gone on, I am under the impression that my grief, and that of fellow bereaved parents, will hold no ending. As long as we live on this earth without our children, we will miss them, love them, mourn for what might have been and therefore, grieve.

Granted, grief may not be as intense. For this, we are grateful. If the rest of our lives would entail the fierceness of fresh grief, how could we ever breathe normally again or function as civilized members of society? No one can live on a wild out-of-control roller coaster of emotions for all of life.

Nan Tanner, editor of Inspired to Journal, writes: “I am functioning on my guts right now. Whatever I feel like doing, I do it. I’m in a no-nonsense frame of mind, and I like it. It’s empowering, and I can feel it’s a direct result of loss and grief.”

Tanner, who has suffered the loss of her father, put it quite well. I know that feeling of boldness that new grief can give you. Nan says she feels like steel.

It is amazing to me that while we are crushed by grief, we are also empowered by how it can make us determined to stand up more for what we believe in, not take any slack from anyone and be in that no-nonsense frame of mind.

Is this a gift? Could it be that grief, with its endless component, is really a gift to be opened and dealt with, and used for our benefit?

Recently, just before Daniel’s would-be-tenth-birthday, a college friend who knows that since Daniel’s death I have collected watermelon objects, sent a box filled with dishes and other items – all with the red, green and white motif. Being able to cry when I opened my watermelon package was a gift. Writing a poem later that week in memory of Daniel and using the watermelon theme, was an added bonus. Sending the poem to friends and other bereaved parents was a tribute to Daniel. Praise for the poem and remembrances of Daniel were given to me.

People establish funds, scholarships, start newsletters, write books and plant trees – all in honor of some loved one who has died. Mourners put their grief to work in order to honor and carry on the love they hold for the one they can no longer embrace. Grief is not always in the obvious and expected form of tears. Some might think that a person no longer with tears is no longer in grief. Many tears do not reach the eyes but are forever present in the heart.

So what is grief? It is a mixture, a hodge-podge, a collection of emotions that range from one end of the scale of human feelings to the other end. Grief causes us to act and react.

As I listen to the crickets and bullfrogs near Daniel’s memorial tree, I pen some of my thoughts on what grief has been for me:

Grief is laughing with your children and wishing for the absent one to make the circle complete.

Grief is crying in your car at stoplights.

Some days grief makes you brutally honest; other days, grief muzzles you.

Grief reconstructs your heart.

Grief is sadness, hope, smiles and tears – rolled tightly like a snowball.

Grief makes you search past the stars and the moon for Heaven.

Grief strips you of everything you were pretending to be.

Grief gives you new priorities.

Grief opens hidden treasures from deep within your soul.

Grief allows you to empathize more deeply with others who ache.

Grief makes you unapologetically bold.

Grief is a daily companion, best dealt with by admitting you do walk with it, even after all these years.

Grief is the price of love; grief is a gift.

Allow yourself time to listen to the sounds of the night and write what grief is to you.

~ Alice J. Wisler, Daniel's Mom.