Waiting Rooms

How do you feel about spending time in a 

waiting room?

In general, I don't do very well in a waiting room of 

any kind. As one American among many, I know I'm not alone. 

We tend to think waiting times should be minimized--

time is precious and must be well-spent, and if the 

waiting time is too long, well ... I'm going to leave. 

I barely had a minute to wait in this room, the lobby 

of my dentist's office, but I'm occupying other waiting rooms. 

Most of them don't have chairs, televisions, or snacks. 

Life has all kinds of waiting rooms, and the Lord often places me 

in one sort or another to learn, gulp, patience. 

Oh, and don't forget perseverance, trust, and faithfulness. 

Some days, I do well and am a peaceable waiting room dweller. 

Other times, I complain loudly and check in 

at the desk every five minutes. I've been known to kick a chair 

or two in these figurative waiting rooms--it's not pretty. 

Waiting is hard. 

What waiting rooms are you in right now? 

More about waiting well here. 

 

Pondering the Season

Christmas is hanging out in my living room, 

trying its best to be shiny and bright. 

About 50% of the bubble lights are actually bubbling--not bad. 

Are there bubble light consultants? 

This might be the perfect seasonal side hustle.

1) Flick the glass stems--oh, so delicately, of course. 

2) Mutter, "Hmmm."

3) Unplug lights, wait 30 seconds, and turn them on again. 

4) Adjust glass stems to point directly at the ceiling

 and repeat steps 1- 3.

5) Collect $75.

Ginger cookies will be my main baked treat this year. 

There's nothing better to dunk in coffee.

Find the recipe and backstory here. 

THIS happened in November. 

I've spent a little bit of time figuring out how to sign a book--

a skill I didn't know existed. The one below is for 

a dear friend to gift to her brother's dogs. How fun is that?

You can check it out here.

At the end of the day--any day of the year--it's really about this.

Pondering the Incarnation and all its beauty is enough to 

fill every moment of the season. 

 

Almost Fall and a Thank You Gift Offer

It's that time of year. 

The zinnias shrug into crisp September air 

and outdo themselves in height and color. 

Fanciful fairy rings sprout overnight 

in dew-drenched clover.

And you teach your dog to wear glasses. 

Why wear glasses? 

The better to READ with, my dear!

It's only two months until my project with Familius Publishing, 

Teach Your Dog to Read, 

comes on the market. 

November 8th is the big day. 

If you preorder, I'll send thanks in the form of 

seeds from my garden. You can choose one of these: 

Send your choice of seeds and your mailing address to simpsoncircle@gmail.com.

A New Beauty

All dried up 

and beautiful in a new way.

The hard work of nodding in spring breezes complete,

sun-dried daffodils decorate a rusty toolbox. 

Parchment paper lily of the valley in blue glass 

bottles recall wedding bells and ivory veils.

Last year's weathered hydrangeas reveal an 

inner framework strong enough to make it through 

a long winter.

I signed a contract back in 2019 with Familius Publishers for a 

project about dogs and reading. The product has made a few twists and 

turns over the course of three years. Recently, I was notified that 

the final copy went to print. 

Teach Your Dog to Read will release this November! 

 

A Long Line of Storytellers

Telling stories with words is what I do on a most-days basis. My writer's toolbox 

contains an overheating computer equipped with apps and programs, tattered and 

scattered notepads, and a certain kind of pencil. Words come to me—or I 

hop around on one foot, trying to catch a few out of thin air—and 

I string them together like pearls on a thin thread. It's a sweaty business. 

Some of the women in my line told stories in field-furrowed paragraphs, 

with seed-sown punctuation. Farm wives 

spun tales of glorious seasons of plenty, and grim ones of 

bootstraps and tightened belts. Their story endings depended 

on the crop, the weather, and the goodness of God. 
 
A few spread their tables with another kind of saga, offering

 mashed-potato mountains rising over fried-chicken foothills, neatly

 lapped by a river of gravy. Basket-weave piecrusts and hand-churned ice cream

 spoke welcome, confidence, and a certain sort of love too delicious to decline.

 
Other matriarchs stitched their memoirs with needle and thread. 

Cotton-cloth leftovers and flour-sack scraps pieced together

 and spread over a bed. Its maker read aloud her quilt creation

chapter by chapter, weaving tales prompted by bright-worn shapes:

"I wore this dress to your mother's wedding. 

What a rainy day that was ..."
"See here, your granddad's best church shirt. 

That was an Easter we'd never forget ..."
"Your brother had pajamas in this same pattern. 

I never knew a boy to work so hard at play…" 

One of these needle-and-thread masterpieces blankets my worktable. 

Its stories cushion my elbows as I search for the next word, the sturdiest sentence, 

the perfect turn-of-phrase. 

So you see, I come from a long line of storytellers ... and you do, too.

What sort of tales did your forebearers tell before you began to spin your own?

Finally, Buds

I planted three moonflower vines and one Heavenly Blue vine 

in the same pot and popped on a trellis-style topper.

Experienced vine-growers among you will immediately 

recognize my mistake: too many plants in one pot.

It happens. 

Spring was long-gone into summer, and there I 

stood with more seedlings than I really wanted. 

Instead of throwing them away--

I'd already given many of them away--

I just tucked them all together, shot it with a hose, 

and declared the planting season "finished."

They've been battling it out, overcrowded and slow to produce any kind of bud—not 

a bloom in sight. This photo shows the vines still reaching, tender tips 

tapping the air, seeking anything to grab and entwine. 

It's the name of the game for vines, right? 

Here in September, these plants have finally gotten the message that 

there's nothing else to grab—no fence, tree, or trellis nearby to support it.

That's when the buds start to appear.

Much to ponder here ...

I'll share photos of the blooms as they arrive.

This is a moonflower bud. I hope to see the white moonflowers and 

 blue morning glories on the same trellis, blooming at opposite 

times of day. That's the master plan, at least. 

    

    Entering the publishing world is a lot like being one of these vines. You feel your way gingerly, hoping to find a place for your work — a publishing house that shares your vision ... a place to bloom. When you find one, like I did when I signed with Familius Publishing, it's hard to overstate the excitement. 

    The release of my first title with them has been delayed until 2022 because of the pandemic-slow economy of 2020. I've heard from the publishing folks at Familius though, and while my book-bloom is slightly postponed, Familius is still my place to set buds and eventually bloom. 

    It's hard to overstate the gratitude for this blessing. I might see some illustrations concepts for the Family Dog / Lit Pups project before the end of the year. If I'm allowed to share them, I will. 

 

Settling into Garnet

The Japanese maples on our acre are always among the first to 

celebrate spring. Trunk and branches store and 

stoke their calling-card color all winter, and in the spring ... 

... it bursts from every stem tip—scarlet flags against a

new-blue, spring canopy.

Now the fanfare is over, and they've settled into a more sedate 

summer color, something along the lines of garnet. 

As many of you know, I signed a contract to publish a children's book with Familius Publishing. I'm thrilled to join this company and add "Debut Author" to my list of life titles. I'd like to give updates here on what the journey to publication has been like for me, and let you know what's coming up next. 

Here's a question I've answered before:

How did you make connections in the writing industry?

In fall, 2013, my youngest son finished eighth grade at the Simpson Home Academy and entered public high school. I cautiously tiptoed into the writing world, staying safely on the edges. My investigations led me to Word Weavers International. Through this organization and its generous leaders, I began to step out of the shadows, meet other writers, and learn about the #writinglife. 

I'd love to answer questions about what's involved in a publication journey, which is unique to every writer. Ask your question or share your own experience in the comments.

A few facts for now: 

* The working title of my book is "Family Dog." It's highly unlikely that the title will stay the same. 

* The book will be in the Spring 2021 Familius catalog but will be available a few months sooner than that. 

* I haven't met the illustrator or the editor of the book yet. 

* I paid for high-resolution photos (headshots) at Portrait Innovations. It was a painfully awkward experience, but the talented young photographer managed to get a few photos that I'm happy to have for a back-cover blurb. 

More details soon! 

Susan