EXCERPTS FOR Claire at Edisto:
EXCERPT #1
Claire couldn’t remember how long she’d stood in the same spot. Rain poured down in sheets, dripping off her umbrella, soaking into her shoes, puddling around her feet. Through her tears, she watched the water run in rivers over the freshly covered gravesite in front of her, beating down the remaining flowers not yet removed, pooling in the spots where chairs and tent poles stood earlier. Now and then a rumble of thunder sounded in the background as if angry over the unexpected death of a man so young….
Hearing footsteps, Claire glanced behind her to see Parker making his way now across the cemetery under a broad black umbrella….
Claire reached down to retrieve a red rose from one of the floral arrangements left behind, turning the flower over in her hands. “However did you stand it when Ann died?” she asked at last.
“We bear things because we have no choice to do otherwise,” Parker answered….
“It’s going to be hard being here day after day without Charles. There are too many reminders of him everywhere. A change as soon as we can make one might be best for us.”
EXCERPT #2
Her parents, of course, expected her to move home to live with them for a time until she could establish a new life for herself and the girls. It seemed sensible on the surface….
As Claire’s father kindly said earlier that day, “We want to help, Claire. This transition time will be hard for you. You need your family.” But many old, unresolved issues still lingered within her family, and if Claire moved home—even for a season—she’d need to deal with them on a regular basis again. Not an easy concept to face….
Even while Claire smiled and conversed, trying to be pleasing and appreciative to all, she felt like crying. Why did you die and leave me in this situation? she asked Charles in her mind. It wasn’t your time. I won’t believe that. The girls and I need you. Our life was built around you. Whatever will we do now?
EXCERPT #3
Parker expected to stay a night at Claire’s for Charles’s funeral, two at most, and then to head back to his antiques store in Beaufort. With the weather now warming in early May, the tourists were beginning to arrive in greater numbers along the South Carolina coast and Parker hated to leave his staff to cover the store without him for too long. However, the situation with Claire needed more thought.
He’d assumed Claire had more viable options available for her future. …Parker knew Conrad Hampton, Claire’s father, was a wealthy and powerful man from old money. Knowing that and remembering the size of their home, he had assumed Claire could move back there for a season with the girls and that her family would support her as she adjusted to Charles’s death, moved through her grief, and settled in to what a psychologist friend of his called “a new normal.” Now after listening in on the conversation between Claire’s mother and sisters he wasn’t so sure.
EXCERPTS FOR Return to Edisto
EXCERPT #1
“Now tell me what you’re doing heading to Edisto? Is everything all right?”
“Why should something be wrong? Don’t you think even a workaholic like me needs a vacation now and then? Aren’t you always telling me that?” Mary Helen had no intention of dumping problems on Suki before a show.
“Well, yeah, but…”
“So I’m taking a break. It seemed like a good time.”
There was a small silence. “I wish I could be there with you. Edisto is our happy place.” …
That’s where Mary Helen headed now, to Edisto Beach, where her family had vacationed since her earliest memories, and where she, her mother, and sister lived after her father’s death seventeen years ago. … The beach helped to sooth their hurt and sorrow then, and Mary Helen hoped it would do the same for her now.
EXCERPT #2
It seemed odd arriving at Oleanders without her mother, her sister, Parker, and a welcoming committee of friends and neighbors. But Mary Helen needed some time alone before facing them all. Life had a way of blindsiding you when you least expected it, and no matter how wise and mature you thought you’d become, those hits always hurt for a time. This one had been a doozey. …
Exhausted from the trip, and the stressful adrenalin high she’d run on for the last week, Mary Helen dropped into a wicker chair on the porch. She leaned her head back, letting the panic and worry of the last days drain gradually out of her. Safe here, she could decide what to do next about her life. It wasn’t as though she’d died or anything, it simply felt like it. A line from one of her mother’s books slipped into her mind: Every time a dream dies, a part of you dies, too.
EXCERPT #3
Scenes from the past week seeped into her mind and Mary Helen let the tears stream down her face again. She wasn’t the crying type, like Suki, but the events of the week and the strain of it, coupled with Kizzy Helton’s words seemed to open up a huge pocket of grief inside her. She let herself sob as emotions swamped her, knowing the release probably good for her, while hating herself for giving in to tears.
“I can’t remember the last time I saw you cry,” a voice from the doorway said.
Immediately recognizing the voice, Mary Helen hated to even open her eyes. She knew who it was. “Go away, J.T. I don’t feel like company.”
“Looks like you might need some though.”
She heard the screen door shut and his steps walk across the porch. Opening one eye a little, she saw him drop into a chair beside hers.
“I really don’t want to talk to you right now.”
“Give it up, Mary Helen. I’m not leaving.”
EXCERPTS FOR Edisto Song:
Excerpt #1
Eito turned to frown at her. “You are still not well. It concerns me—that deep cough I do not like to think of you performing when you are ill.”
She shook her head, glancing across the room at the small baby grand piano which dominated the space in the living area. “A concert pianist performs tired or not, well or not. Surely you know that. I’ve performed all winter since I got sick after the holidays. I’ll be all right. I just can’t seem to get rid of this cough and I often get so tired at the end of the day.” She shivered, not wanting to mention how often a touch of fever flared in the afternoons, too, draining her strength….
“You are pale. You have dark circles under your eyes. You are tired all the time, not yourself. You cough too much and often are feverish. I would ask of you… Stay here in the city and rest a few weeks. Then return to the tour, well, in good health, and able to give it your best…. It would not be good if you broke down at a performance.”
Excerpt #2
A few minutes later when her call came to head onto the stage, Sarah felt dizzy and unsteady on her feet. Detached from herself in an odd way. She kept experiencing disjointed thoughts, too. Seeing spots before her eyes. Struggling to breathe.
Somehow she walked out onto the stage to thundering applause. How kind people were. The conductor gave her a little bow, the members of the orchestra watched her, waiting, ready to accompany her. She found her way to the piano bench, sat down, arranged her dress, and reached toward the keys but found her eyes blurring again. …
She heard the orchestra begin then, but the sound grew suddenly dim, her body felt peculiar and detached, her head dizzy and weightless. Then everything slipped away and she crumpled and slid off the piano bench to the floor.
Excerpt #3
Andrew smiled as he saw her come out on stage to enthusiastic applause, dressed in a floating white dress with the red cummerbund and shoes she’d become known for, her fair hair shining like a halo in the stage lights. Seeing her move closer to the piano, he leaned forward, suddenly not smiling anymore. Something was wrong. She’d almost stumbled and her smile looked plastic, her face as white as a sheet. …
Would she be all right? he wondered. Should he do something? Ever since Suki had been a little girl, Andrew had always felt tuned in to her in a way not many were. He could feel her moods, her love for her music. He’d been her support through the years as her gift had grown, along with her family and her teachers like Morgan Dillon.
Suki sat down on the piano bench, shaking her head slightly as if dizzy. Not everyone would have noticed, but Andrew did. She took a moment a little too long to adjust her dress and her seat. Acting awkward in her movements, when usually so poised. When she put her hands toward the piano to prepare to play, … he saw her head shift oddly, her hands drop from the piano, her body seem to go limp, and then she fell over toward the orchestra, sliding off the piano bench in a faint.
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What are you passionate about? I am passionate about my writing … I think if you’re not passionate enough about writing to do it with all your heart, then perhaps it isn’t your calling. Writing is a much harder and more disciplined work than most people realize, and I think you have to be a little obsessed to be a writer! As Fabienne Fredrickson said: “The things you are passionate about are not random; they are your calling.”
What do you do to unwind and relax? There is nothing better to help me unwind and relax than getting out in nature to hike the trails in the Smoky Mountains nearby, to walk in a lovely park or garden, or to explore beautiful places outdoors. When the weather is grim and I can’t get out … I relax and escape in books. I’m an avid reader and I read a book or two a week around my writing. “Just the knowledge that a good book is waiting one at the end of a long day makes that day happier.” [Kathleen Norris]
How did you find time to write as a parent? I didn’t! Full-time writing was not a part of my parenting years, except for business or academics. Those were busy, hectic, full years of raising my children, working full-time or at least part-time, leading scout troops, entertaining neighboring children, working at the school and church in various roles, going to ball games, skating rinks, and running the kids to all the lessons and activities they were involved in.
Describe yourself in 5 words or less! I’m a classic ENFJ Myers-Briggs type …. An idealist, teacher, creative communicator, and artisan.
When did you first consider yourself a writer? I always “piddle wrote” for fun, and I wrote for business and the college courses I taught, but I didn’t consider myself an “true writer” until my first books published. Do you have a favorite movie? My favorite movie was an old classic called Spencer’s Mountain by Earl Hamner, the prelude to the Walton’s television series. My heart so identified with John Boy’s yearning to be an author. I also love rewatching all the old musicals like Hello Dolly, The Sound of Music, and the Rodgers and Hammerstein classics.
Which of your novels can you imagine made into a movie? Readers tell me often they can visualize my books as Hallmark or Lifetime movies, but the book I can most easily see in film is one of my older novels called For Six Good Reasons. The early scenes in the first chapters feel like a great movie opening … and the antics of the six Stuart children in that book would bring movie viewers a lot of smiles.
What literary pilgrimages have you gone on? My “trips and pilgrimages’ have all been around the Southeast area where I live. All my novels, and the guidebooks my husband I write, have resulted from “visits” to all the main settings or places in our books. We’ve hiked all the trails in our Smoky Mountain hiking guidebook The Afternoon Hiker, visited all the parks in our two TN and SC state parks guidebooks and explored the places where my Smoky Mountain novels are set—Gatlinburg, Townsend, Wears Valley, Cosby, Bryson City, Maggie Valley, and more. Nearly every summer since the 1980s, too, we vacationed at Edisto Beach, SC, where my coastal trilogy is set.
As a writer, what would you choose as your mascot animal? Definitely a cat. I’ve always had cats and feel a link to their strong independence and their loyal affection to those they love. When I was a baby a stray kitten showed up at our door and immediately bonded with me, jumping in my crib to nap with me. I’ve had cats ever since. |
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