Is Summer Over Yet?


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We are still blazing hot here in Bermuda. It’s an odd thing, because when I say blazing, people assume temps up in the 100’s, which is never the case here. Our hottest will be around 95. But then, factor in humidity, and you’ve got smothering air that soaks you within minutes. Let’s just say I really, really love my air-conditioning, and yes, our electric bills are really, really high.

But I’ve stepped into September and started back to work, writing new stuff and keeping up with all the fun of finding new readers as more people discover The Things We Knew. I’m so grateful for those connections and it’s fun to get to know people from all over the world. Tonight I’m having an Author Chat on Facebook – if you’re able to pop in, I’d love to say hi! We’ll be chatting about the book and other things, so even if you haven’t read The Things We Knew yet, don’t let that stop you.ūüôā You can sign up on the Event Page or just stop in – 7-9 EST. Hope to see you there!


To bid summer it’s proper adieu, Mother Nature has decided to whip up a few storms in the Atlantic. At the moment, we’re keeping an eye on Karl, predicted to be heading our way as a hurricane this weekend. He seems to be the finicky sort though, as he’s already changed tack a few times. People ask me what it’s like, living on a tiny island when you’re facing down a big storm.

Well. Like everything else in life, it’s about being prepared. You put away outside furniture and pots. Secure everything else as best you can, stock up on food and water and batteries in case of a power outage, and then you wait.¬†images-1

In Bermuda, this usually involves a few Dark ‘n’ Stormies, our national drink. It’s an island thing, we’ll take any excuse really.ūüôā Kidding aside, waiting for these storms can be nerve-wracking. Because you never really know. It could be a total miss, with no damage or it could come at us full force. Even with all the technology available to us nowadays, these things take on a life of their own.

When you’re waiting, when you’re unsure, it’s easy to give in to fear. Easy to think the worst, expect it even. I remember our last massive hurricane years ago, Fabian, (a direct hit on September 5th, 2003), huddling in the dark hallway with my 2 kids and listening to the howling wind and wondering what would happen. Would we be okay? That was not a fun night. We were okay, but that one hit us bad. Fortunately our house was not badly damaged, but so much of the island was.

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So much of life seems to be about survival, doesn’t it? Waiting for the storm to pass. Figuring out how to get through it. And sometimes, not knowing if you’re strong enough to make it. And if you do make it through? Sometimes the clean-up seems too much to bear. Too overwhelming.

Been there?

Me too.

If you’re in that waiting room right now, not sure what’s coming next, know you’re not alone. Even in the midst of the storm, no matter how bad it gets, know you’re not alone. People are there. They want to help. They just don’t know what to say or do and they’re afraid of getting it wrong.

I know. Reaching out is hard. Talking. Sharing. Going into those dark and secret places. Maybe it’s the last thing you think you need right now. But it could be the best thing.

Because we all need a friend or two to help us get through the storms and pick up the mess in the aftermath.

Ask me how I know.


Praying you know His peace today, wherever you are, whether you’re waiting, watching those dark clouds roll in or picking up the debris in the erie calm that often comes after a vicious night. I’m praying you find your friends and let them in and hold them tight. And that you know, somehow, it’s all going to be okay.

Until Next Time . . .

Running on Empty


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It was one of those nights last night. Sporadic sleep. Sound one minute, wide awake the next. It’s something I’ve learned to live with over the last couple of years, but it isn’t easy. Fortunately, I don’t have to be out the door at o’dark thirty, so when I have one of those nights, I do have the luxury of trying to catch an extra hour or two of sleep.

This morning the house phone began to ring at 6:50 a.m.

We’re having some work done at the house, and here was the crew, wanting to be let in at 6 freaking 50 in the morning!! WHAT??? ¬†I pulled on clothes and grumbled down the stairs. Let them in and grumbled some more. And by grumbled I mean . . . you know. I was not a happy camper.


I suppose I could have headed back upstairs to bed. But I knew I’d probably sleep far too long and I had things to do. So I fixed a coffee and opened my laptop. And that’s when it happened.

“Helloooo . . .”

No, it wasn’t one of the work men in my house. I knew exactly Who it was. I sighed deep¬†and carried on with my mindless scrolling of the facebook.

“Seriously? You’re gonna sit there and ignore me?”

This is how God and I converse most of the time. He’s often way more sarcastic than I am. But He’s also way more loving and forgiving. So there’s that. But I knew this was coming. And I guess He figured waking me up at the crack of dawn was a good way to get my attention. Well, okay, I exaggerate. It wasn’t exactly the crack of dawn, that would have been, like, five in the morning, I guess, but in my world it was pretty close.

“So, how’s it going? Long time no talk.”

“Um. Yeah. It’s going.” More coffee is needed at this point. “Besides, you’re God. You know exactly ¬†how it’s going.”

I imagine a God-sized grin here. “Mmm. So true. But indulge me.”

This was not a fun conversation. Then again, the necessary ones never are.

Because my worry list is very long and my grateful list is running to catch up. And somehow in all the flurry, I figured I could do it all. On. My. Own.


God never laughs at me, but He does point out the obvious.

That sometimes I can be an idiot. Sometimes, worrying about who said what, Amazon rankings, word count and what’s for dinner (okay, I rarely worry about what’s for dinner) and what comes next months from now, take up way too much of my time and . . . really??

“So that’s the gist. Why do I do this to myself?”

“Because you’re still holding on to things that don’t belong to you anymore. Just guessing.”

Okay. Ouch.

Rejection. Feeling Less Than. Left Out. Fear of FAILURE. What about that one, eh? Huge. All this junk. How many times over the years do I catch and release? You know? Wouldn’t it be nice to just let all that go and be done with it? For good?

Well, between us, I suspect my stubborn nature will put up a fight. But imagine the freedom I might find if I finally free myself of those old ghosts. And as if all that wasn’t enough . . .

“How do you expect to keep pouring out, writing stories of hope and faith and healing, when you’re not taking any in?”

Maybe you’ve heard that before. I think it’s a little too familiar. But that’s what I do. I run on empty. All. The. Time.

And it has to stop.

Because I cannot write from a place of authenticity if I’m not able to go there.¬†

I cannot write in freedom if I’m not willing to experience that reality.¬†

And those truths hit hard.

Especially at 7 in the morning on little sleep.

But here’s the thing about God. I may not always like what He has to say, but He is always right.

So I listened. I accepted. And I’m doing something about it. Because we were never meant to travel this road alone. We are meant for so much more. Don’t you agree?

Does any of this resonate with you this morning? Maybe you’re running on empty too. Maybe you need some encouragement.

I would love to know I’m not the only one who sometimes needs that early morning wake-up call. How has God been speaking to you lately?

Let’s talk.


Where Is Your Identity?


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I’ve just returned from a few days in Nashville, where I attended the American Christian Fiction Writers annual conference. I was trying to figure out dates in my head and I think this must be at least the eighth conference I’ve attended, and still, I’ll be honest, it’s the best of times and it’s the worst of times.

And I need to unpack that this morning.


The best of times – moments like this. Seeing old friends and making new ones. Words like community and fellowship become reality over these few days. As a writer, I spend a lot of time alone. I’m not good at getting out and making new friends. And to be honest, most of my really good friends, my heart-friends, my writer friends, live across the ocean. It’s hard. So when ACFW rolls around, I’m so pumped to get to spend those few days with them, talking life and writing and all that involves. Honestly, I think I talk more in those few days than I do all year. Not kidding.


So this year’s conference was a little different. This year I went in still celebrating the release of my first book with a major publisher. People I didn’t know from Adam walked up to me and told me they loved my book. I got the shock of my life one evening at dinner when my book – my book – was one of the giveaway books on the tables.

I finally got to meet¬†my wonderful editor and the team at Harper Collins who’ve all worked so hard to get my book out there!


Got to spend time with my amazing¬†agent, and celebrate the book’s release in person!


There were many sweet moments with friends, lots of laughter and hilarity.

And then there were those moments when I wondered just what in the world I thought I was doing.

The best of times. The worst of times. 

Because on the outside I was smiling big, while shaking my head on the inside. Listening to old voices saying, “Well, aren’t you all that? Not.”¬† All weekend long, fear crept in.

Insecurity. ¬†Feeling like I didn’t belong. That I was faking it. And that sooner or later somebody would see, and call me out. “Hey, you there! Yeah. What do you think you’re doing here trying to be cool with all these authors who are so much better than you?! Come on. Get outta here.”¬†

Do you know that voice? Oh, please tell me you do. Tell me I’m not the only one here in crazy town. Because seriously, I’m fifty freaking years old and I don’t need to be dealing with high-school kid feelings. I don’t need to be feeling¬†like I’m looking at all the cool kids, wanting desperately to fit in, knowing that I don’t.

What is that even about??!! It makes me mad. So mad. Mostly at myself for buying into it. I should know better. Yet here I sit, struggling to make sense of it all.

Because it’s easy to pretend we have it all together, isn’t it? But that’s not who I am. I stopped pretending awhile ago. At least I hope I did. But if you’ve read my writing, you probably already figured that out. I am all about real.¬†I have to be. Because to be anything else is to deny who I am and what I’m feeling. And that is never okay.

So that’s why I’m being real here, with you, because it’s stupid¬†to be anything else. I believe in writing from a place of freedom, telling the most honest story God places on my heart, in the rawest way possible. I¬†must also live out my life in that freedom.

I long for community. For friends. For those heart-sisters I can share secrets with. Yet my insecure self always holds me back. The old mean and nasty voices¬†tell me I’m not good enough, not deserving enough, not . . . whatever. You know?

Where is your identity?

That’s what I think God’s been asking me this weekend.

I think for me right now, it would be so easy to stay¬†on the mountaintop. To put on that badge of ‘published author’ and be all that and a bag of chips.

Oh, God help me if I do.

I never ever, ever want to feel better than anyone else, to be seen as better. That sucks. I hate that feeling, truly. Just because I’m published doesn’t make me any different than when I wasn’t. Sure, it’s a great accomplishment, one I’ve worked for, and I am so, so grateful for the opportunity to share my words in a broader market ¬†. . . but it can’t change who I am. I think I’m seeing that this morning. No matter how many books I have published, whether they do well or not, deep down I still feel like that young, dorky girl who doesn’t belong,¬†who wants to shrink in a corner and just go invisible. And I don’t think that’s what God wants for me either.

We are all sons and daughters of a Father who loves us beyond our earthly imaginings. We’re all on equal ground in his eyes. We all belong.

If there is any good in me, it comes from Him. Any talent, all from Him. Insecurity, fear, feelings of insignificance? Not from Him.

So when I’m in a room of over 500 people? Sure, I freak out a little. But I do belong. I belong because we all do. We’re all connected. All on equal ground. I may not have the confidence that some of my peers do. I am not in that place right now where I could get up and speak with boldness to an entire room full of people. I may never be. But that doesn’t mean I’m not just as important in the eyes of God. That doesn’t mean I can’t trust Him to take my gifts and use them for His glory. I absolutely must.

That is my identity.

In Christ. 

That’s really all there is to it. So simple, yet often so hard to live out. But I’m trying. It’s all we can do, isn’t it? Try.

So that’s my bit of honesty today. I pray that if you’re feeling a bit overwhelmed, like I am, perhaps this may help a bit. Sometimes it’s good to know we’re not alone in this.



May these words of my mouth and this meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer. Psalm 19:14

So Much Going On!


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Oh my gosh. I was all set to post a really cute video update with all the news, but then I realized I look like a character from The Walking Dead right now, so that’s not going to happen. Your eyes will thank me.ūüôā Here’s a picture of our lake instead.

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We’ve returned from our annual pilgrimage to Canada, which was fantastic as usual, although far too short. I was working on edits for The Memory of You for part of the time, so I spent a lot of time sitting out here, with my new laptop.ūüôā


And now those edits are done and off, and I’m getting ready to leave for the ACFW Conference in Nashville next week!! Can’t wait!! Maybe I’ll see you there. Meantime, there are some things going on with The Things We Knew that I’d love to share!


The LITFUSE Blog Tour is underway! I love the gang at Litfuse, they are always so enthusiastic and do such a great job promoting their authors! I’m thankful for all the readers as well who get on board and help spread the word about good books! So check it out, the links will take you to my landing page, where you can read Buzz and Reviews for The Things We Knew as they come in! Feel free to help spread the word.

Also going on THIS WEEK is a fun PINTEREST contest!! If you don’t already know about it, here’s the scoop –


All you have to do is create a smashingly good Pinterest Board for The Things We Knew, (you’ve read it, right?!) and send me the link via DM or post on my Facebook Author Page! Contest will close at midnight¬†Monday August 22nd, and we’ll announce the winners on Tuesday, probably in the evening, as I’m flying to Nashville that day! First prize winner will receive this amazing beach tumbler, bookmark, and a signed copy of The Things We Knew, and there will be first and second runner up prizes too, so you’ll want to get in on the fun! (You can view MY BOARD here!) And I don’t mind telling you I have yet to find anyone that looks remotely like the way I picture Evy MacIntrye, (Evy like the Chevy!), so if anyone can find her, extra points!!

And a HUGE THANKS to all of you who have read and reviewed the book already! I really appreciate you taking the time to put up a review, and it really goes a long way in helping get the word out to new readers.

Okay so¬†these tumblers are pretty amazing! I’ve been using mine all week! I might be a little obsessed with it.ūüėģ


Well, I can’t believe the end of summer is here. I’m praying for all you Moms & Dads as kids go back to school or off to college. Time goes too quickly! I hope you’ve all had a good summer and have had amazing family times together. I’d love to hear about it!

Until Next time!

Peace to you and yours.ūüôā



Owning It – A Few Thoughts From The Front Lines


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It’s been a crazy few weeks. But this is my current location. And I’m trying to relax.


Trying being the operative word.

All the excitement and anticipation leading up to the release of The Things We Knew, has simmered down. Now it’s out there, and I’m busy with promoting and working on other projects and doing life, all the while trying to stay sane. Because¬†although it isn’t my first book release, it kind of feels that way.

I think maybe, to me at least, this one matters more. Maybe it’s because it took so many years to get published. Maybe it’s because we worked on it for such a long time. Maybe it’s because I’m so grateful for the¬†people who were willing to invest their time, effort and a bit of their heart to push this baby toward publication. And dang if we didn’t do it.

Funny thing is, I thought that was the hard part. Getting to this.


But what do I know? Not much, apparently. Because the hard part? That’s only just beginning. The hard part is letting your baby go out into the world and being completely unprepared for the reception it will get. Completely unprepared for the critics. Okay, not completely unprepared. But perhaps a little blindsided.

I haven’t been here before in quite this way. More people have access to this book than any of my previous ones. It’s in actual bookstores – freaking Barnes & Noble for crying out loud¬†– and if that doesn’t make this whole whacked and wild dream real, I don’t know what does. It’s different this time because there’s advertising and reviews that kind of matter and my book is probably popping up more places than I know about. It’s different this time because now?

Now I really need to know who I am as an author and what that means for the books I write. 

Now I need to own this.

As people are discovering¬†who I am and what I write, I’m learning to live with the fact that not everyone will like me.


Okay, so there it is. Yes, I’ve been reading the reviews. No, it’s probably not a smart thing to do. But I was always the kid who crept a little closer to the flame when nobody was looking and stuck my finger out anyway, just to see if it really would burn. Not much has changed. Flames still burn.

But here’s the thing. This is my book. My story. My heart. And I’ve offered it not for the glory, not for the fun of seeing my name on the cover, not for any fame or fortune (cue raucous laughter), I’ve offered it because I feel like I have something to say. Like maybe I can offer a hurting world a little hope.

It sounds so simple. But that’s the truth. That’s why I write. That’s why I long to share my stories. And yes, that makes me vulnerable. Because it’s not easy putting yourself out there. Sharing your heart. Actually, it’s probably one of the hardest things in the world.

And honestly? This journey cost me.¬†Emotionally. Spiritually. Physically even, because it’s easy to get stressed and overwhelmed and not take time to treat yourself well. But was all that worth it? Absolutely. This is my victory. My reward.

I need to own that. 

I need to stop cringing when I read words that try to tear down and belittle. People are not kind, but I knew that. It shouldn’t surprise me. I need to stop apologizing in my head and feeling bad when I hear that what I’ve offered wasn’t what a particular reader expected or wanted. I need to realize that I’m never ever going to please everybody.

I need to own who I am and what I write and not worry about how it is received.

This is my lesson, and maybe it’s been slow in coming, but I better get it down now or I’m not going to survive this game.

Yes, I am a Christian. I write for a Christian publisher. But I’m not your pastor. Not your Bible or your Sunday School.

I am a broken person put together by grace and mercy and forgiveness and I write about broken people in need of grace and mercy and forgiveness.

If you want to chew on¬†Scripture and platitudes and everybody gets saved at the end stories, then I’m probably not the author for you. And that’s fine.

God is big enough for all of us in all our brokenness.

Grace come quiet, simply, unobtrusively. It comes when we need it most. When we least expect it. When we don’t deserve it. And sometimes when we don’t even know we need it. But there it is.

If you want to find a little¬†faith – that quiet steadfast heartbeat of the only one thing in this crazy world that will carry you through – I believe it is there¬†in the pages of the books I write. Because that’s how they were written. By faith. Through struggles and doubts, carried on the wind of grace. God is very much present in every word I write. How could He not be?

Maybe that message of hope and healing might look a little different to you and yeah, you might not like it that way.

That’s okay.

I’m not going to please everybody.¬†

I don’t need to.

Today, I make my peace with this.

My words are written for a higher purpose. And I will continue to write them in the way I feel led, without worrying about rejection or craving acceptance or seeking any glory that really doesn’t belong to me anyway.

I will write for the sheer joy of knowing that I can. Knowing that this is my gift and it pleases Him. And that truth? That’s all that matters in the end.

And today,  I will own that. 


And So You Celebrate . . .


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(My sister and I celebrating the arrival of the first copies of my new book!)

The past couple weeks have been a whirlwind. Both in my personal life and in the events happening around the world, and to be honest, right now I just want to step back from the bad and celebrate the good. Is that okay? I hope so.

On July 12th, after a very long journey¬†, my latest novel,¬†The Things We Knew,¬†( my first with Harper Collins Christian Publishing), was set free into the world! And where was I? Thanks to the very intrepid work of my amazing husband, I was on Nantucket, where the book is set. He planned the whole trip, even arranging¬†a book signing on the island, at Mitchell’s Book Corner, on the very day of the book’s release!! The whole family joined us. And it was a dream come true.

I’m not sure I have the words or brain power at the moment to adequately describe the beauty of Nantucket or the crazy amazing experience to walk the streets I already felt I knew so well. Instead, I thought I’d share a few of my photos with you, and let them do the talking. But before I go, I need to thank my husband for this truly incredible experience. I will definitely never forget it!!

13606645_10153560857955899_4530598731231619591_n ThingsWeKnew 2-03b (1)13606645_10153560857995899_1485592515977882563_n Oh, hey, this looks familiar!

Beautiful Nantucket!


My first ever US book signing event!! If I look a little happy, it’s because I was. I was also terribly nervous. But everyone was lovely, and I had a great time!

And when it was all over . . .


Time to relax! And celebrate!

13754208_10153570614850899_1438802544368142791_nGoodbye, Nantucket! Until we meet again . . .


How Do We Simply Carry On?

*** I’m not posting pictures with this piece because I think we’ve all seen and heard enough. Instead, I hope my words will speak just as loudly.***

I am burdened.

Today, four days out from the release of my very highly anticipated novel (mostly by me), I should be elated. Over the moon excited and giddy at the prospect of getting on a plane tomorrow, spending the evening in Boston with the family, and then catching the ferry over to Nantucket on Sunday, where we will spend most of the week, and I’ll have my first ever US book signing. I should be posting about my book, urging you all to run out and grab a copy, yet in this moment, I find it to be of little consequence.

I am burdened. 

In the wake of incomprehensible tragedy, a barrage of evil in the past several months, does one simply carry on? Do we switch off the news, shrug our shoulders and convince ourselves, yet again, that this is not our problem?

God help us if we do. 

People – sons and daughters, brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers and cousins, uncles and aunts and grandparents – people are dying. Being picked off at will, simply because somebody decided they weren’t good enough to live. Weren’t important enough. Relevant enough. Instead, they were hated, hated enough to be killed. Murdered. Victims of a twisted mindset that’s hard to get my head around.

Jesus, have mercy.

It’s almost too much, isn’t it?

The burden is great, the grief almost intangible, and our responsibility beyond what we ever expected to have to bear. Humanity has turned in on itself. We are imploding. And if we do nothing?

If we do nothing? 

Doing nothing is not an option.  

No, we cannot simply carry on. We cannot continue to ignore racism, bigotry, misogyny, homophobia, adultery, spousal abuse, child abuse, and the myriad of other offenses we are committing against each other on a daily basis. It has to stop now. Because I fear for the future of this world. And I fear we will not be long in it if we don’t take a stand.

If we don’t CHANGE.¬†

And honestly? ¬†I don’t know how to do that. But I think it starts with love. I think it starts with a hand reaching out, a hug, a kind word, a smile that says “I see you and you are good.” You are important. Necessary. Needed. Loved.

We have gifts. Use them for good. My words will most likely change as I grow into this new normal. My stories may hold more challenge, more warning, but they will always point toward hope. If we have no hope, we are truly lost. And yes, it’s hard to see the good amidst the evil. But it is there.

Good will always overcome evil eventually.

Love will always win. 

But we cannot simply carry on. 

We must be part of the movement for change. Use our voices. Make art. Sing and dance and act and tell our stories. Do not accept anything less than wholehearted respect for another human being. This is our calling. This is our charge.

But I also believe we are also called to live our best life. To enjoy all these gifts we have been given. To be ever mindful of the chaos around us, yet find joy in the celebration of our own personal journey. I believe if we are true to that, seeking truth and proclaiming it to the world, we can change this cycle of evil. We can stop the apocalypse.

Let it begin now. Today. With me. With you. 

Let healing begin. 


Life Is Good!!


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Well, I’ve just spent a fun week with my sister! It was great to just hang out and talk and laugh. Best of all, she was able to celebrate a very special delivery that arrived yesterday!


My author copies of The Things We Knew!!! A few tears may have been shed by yours truly. My first stop after picking up this lovely box of books was to my dad. He always gets the first copy, and he was pleased as punch!


And then it was home to celebrate with the rest of the family, with champagne and dinner out!


The next few weeks will be very busy as we prepare for the official release on July 12th. I’d love for you to sign up for the launch party on Facebook – that’ll be July 14th and will be lots of fun, with special guests and giveaways and lots of book chatter! We’re also having a GOODREADS GIVEAWAY, (going on now!) so you can enter to win a copy of The Things We Knew there!

The Things We Knew Launch Party!-save the date

Meanwhile, here’s one more thing to keep you busy until the book comes out!

Things We Knew Pre-Order

Feel free to share all these great promotions, and I hope when you read The Things We Knew, you’ll let me know how you liked it!

Happy Holiday Weekend!

So My Mom Wrote A Book…


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Hey, everybody! This is Noah. (I’m the adorably handsome dog in the picture).

I’m hijacking my mom’s blog today, because, quite frankly, enough is enough. ¬†I’m used to getting all the attention around here, seriously, and lately? Well, my mom wrote this book. And it’s getting AAAAALLLLLL the attention.


That’s my Mom. That’s her book. Look how happy she is. What is that about? It’s not like a bone. Or leftover meatloaf (I’m not really allowed that). It’s not even close to peeing on a tree. Wait . . . I’ll be right back . . .

I mean, what’s the deal with this dumb¬†book?


When their tragic past begins to resurface, can he help her remember the things she can’t?

Set on the island of Nantucket, The Things We Knew paints a picture of a family that is far from perfect. The Carlisle siblings have long abandoned the home they grew up in, their lives now a paradox to their idyllic childhood memories. As their father’s health declines and the family debt rises, they each return to the island to assist their youngest sister, Lynette, and must all come to terms with the history that connects them, confront the memories that haunt them, and question all the things they thought they knew.


Mom thinks this is an adorable picture of me. She thinks it looks like I’m checking out her book with great interest. Actually, I’m wondering what paper tastes like. (Don’t tell). Because I don’t really get it. She’s been talking to me about this story for a looooong time. (Yes, she talks to me. I find it best to wag my tail and nod) A lot of the time she just doesn’t make sense. Supper Time, Walk, Swim . . . those words make sense. But when she starts yammering¬†about plot holes and deadlines and wanting to jump from tall buildings,¬†well, there’s an itch I gotta scratch.

“Are you even listening to me?” I hear that a lot.

And whatever these deadline things are? I hate them. I will devour them ferociously in one bite if I ever find out what they are. Because they glue Mom to her computer, (like she’s not already always on it), and she basically doesn’t move. For days. Then the mumbling starts. And sometimes she cries. And . . . a couple times she says some words I don’t think she’s supposed to say. But who am I to judge? I pee on trees and chase pigeons. I would probably pee on this book if I had the chance.

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See this picture? Oh, you will. She’s posting it pretty much all over the internet. I even have my own hashtag. #noahbestdogever

Well, what can I say? It fits.

Let’s be honest, I’m freaking adorable, so I can’t blame her. (It’s actually a much better picture than the one of her by herself, if I do say so). But a dog’s gotta have some limits, right? And this??



I feel so used.

Do all you writer people act the same way or is my mom just weird? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I know she loves me. And that’s probably understating it. She has some human children who pretend to love me when she’s around, but I’ve heard them talking when they think I’m not listening, and word on the street is that if we were all on a sinking ship and there was only room for Mom and one more person on the lifeboat, she¬†would choose me over them. Did I mention my stinking adorability factor? Probs has something to do with it. The humans are cute, but let’s face it . . . I win.

So here’s the thing, really. I love my Mom. Not as much as she loves me, but I do love her and I would bark a few times in her defense. She lets me up on the bed when Dad gets up in the morning. And she feeds me. And . . . sigh . . . she used to play with me and go for walks with me a lot more, but why beat a dead horse? But this book thing is stressing her out. It oozes from her and makes me sad. I don’t like stress. Something about release day being right around the corner and this and that and blah, blah, blah. So, I thought I’d get you all to help my mom calm the flip down about all this, tell her to take some deep breaths, and maybe take me for a walk or a swim, because that’d be good for both of us.

Tell my mom it’s all gonna be okay, she doesn’t need to stress, everybody will love her book, even though I don’t, but to each his own, right? And if they don’t, well so what? It’s not the end of the world. She still has me.

You can even promise to buy her book on July 12th, if you want. Hey, whatever it takes.

So thanks for listening. I’ll be back with an update and hopefully a saner, less stressed Mom to tell you about.

I hear her next book has Border Collies in it. I’m all over that one.