Writing to Stir Hearts

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. . . and neither do the characters in my books. Most are broken in some way, whether by their own mistakes, or somebody else's. But they're strong, too, and somehow, these broken yet lovable people find ways to rise above their situations and learn from their struggles. They want more out of life. More purpose. More meaning. Like the creek, their lives twist and turn. Laughter, loss,  heartache, and redemption are part of their journey, and their healing. Ultimately, they find a gleam of hope. Crusty geodes, broken open, sparkling in the light!

. . . might look a bit messy. Well, more than a bit. This picture from a few years ago is a humble, behind the scenes look at my creative process, during a season of home and life reconstruction. By now, you'd think my stacks of papers would be more organized, but my youngest granddaughter, who's two and a half, loves to rearrange my books, papers, and pens, multiple times a day. She especially loves to hide the things she knows I use the most. Every day is a scavenger hunt for Grandma Lois.

 Born, raised, and educated among the lakes and libraries of Minnesota, I've spent much of my adult life in Iowa, where winding creeks and rivers are more common than lakes. The down-to-earth settings of the Midwest, the Heartland, creep into what I write. I've also lived in other settings for months, and sometimes years, including Seattle, Los Angeles, Bakersfield, Phoenix, Springfield, MO, Pensacola, Miami, and even Union City, NJ. Not necessarily in that order. Flavors of these cities seep into my work.

. . .and loved it. Except for making corrections, which was often. Typewriter erasers never did their job well. The paper usually ended up full of holes. The great invention, whiteout, was a major improvement. But if the typist didn't wait long enough for it to dry, muddy text would slog its way through squishy ridges of whiteout.