Deb Dulworth: Artist, Author, Dreamer

Deb Dulworth is the other half of the writing team (Dulworth/Hanna) who came up with Reflections of a Stranger, a cozy mystery, released in 2012. Currently, they're working on their second writing project, a romantic comedy called Pressed Flowers. 

Deb is one of the nicest people I know. I met her early after she and Linda started coming to Indiana Chapter's American Christian Fiction Writers events when they first collaborated on their story. It was a delight when I'd heard they had published their story. 

On Monday, her co-author, Linda Hanna, shared her kid story. Today Deb is sharing her story of when she was just a kid. She grew up much like most of the "creatives" do--reading, day-dreaming, writing and drawing.We recognize our own kindred spirits--and Deb is a kindred spirit to the rest of the "kids" listed here. Come read her story: 

Deb and Terry 

"Reading and drawing were my interests in my early years. Positive reactions from my family and friends kept me to sketching. I thought of being an artist.

Extremely shy and quiet, I always wondered if people thought I was stuck-up. But in truth, I was backward and withdrawn.

Sorry to say I was not an impressive straight-A student. While peering out the window in school, I made up stories and doodled. One incident: My teacher called my name, “You see something interesting out there?” Of course, I slunk down in my seat and made more of an effort to pay attention.

There was a time when my Pinocchio and Donald Duck puppets were allowed to go to school with me. The off-the-wall antics of the original odd couple drew much attention from my classmates. The kids took turns acting out stories with me. This brought a few minutes of popularity during one recess.

Our family vacations were in the Smokies and Blue Ridge Mountains one summer, and the next year we’d go to Mackinac Island and other sites in Michigan. In earlier days, my aunt and uncle and their kids went with us. As years went by I took friends when cousins weren’t available.

Also during the summer months, when I was small, while most kids were occupied with sports, I had books to read and drawing to keep me busy. Mom took me to the library and I’d bring back an armload of children’s books. The illustrations attracted my attention, and the stories had me engrossed in the characters’ adventures. I read so many Uncle Remus tales, the speaking pattern was ingrained in my skull. “Dat der tar baby, he don say nutin’.” 

Hence, my first culture shift experience when I had to go back to school.

My aunts, uncles and cousins were baseball/football fans. But I had to be the black sheep of the Huston clan – hated sports altogether. The endowment of knobby knees and off-kilter balance hindered any chances of being athletic. The oddest looks came from family if my interest in reading or art happened to leak out. One might’ve thought I was an implant from some ionized Huckleberry- Di Vinci planet.

The thought of writing didn’t hit home until Literature class. Our teacher had us write out what we did during the summer. I had this story to share:

A friend, her two sisters and I found some matches in a church yard that happened to be across the alley from friends’ house. Well, one of us, (who will remain nameless), assured the other girls that a campfire would be a great idea. We built a ring of good-sized rocks, laid sticks in it and lit them.

All went well, until one of us decided to put the fire out…with… a bale of dried grass. Need I say more? 

The little fire went ballistic in a second and licked the branches of the tree standing in front of the church. The fear of the Lord hit me. I imagined God Almighty flailing huge chards of lightning at me.

We were so far from the girls’ house, their garden hose wouldn’t reach. So we found a sand bucket, and got water from their outdoor spigot. The four of us lined up across the lawn and had the most pitiable bucket brigade going. Water sloshed out of the bucket as we switched off and ran to the next person. By the time the last girl got to the fire, there may have been a tablespoon of water left.

No, we didn’t put the fire out. A neighbor girl squirted a stream of water from their garden hose across the street. She was the same age as my friend and I. We went to school with her. What humiliation. And, to my amazement, God did not strike me dead on the spot.

The name of my booklet was entitled: If Mother Only Knew. It was tacked on the bulletin board for all to admire. And it was the first time teachers gave me actual pats on the back. By the way, I also illustrated it. I’d made it to the “Big Time.” 

However, the story was out and soon our mothers would know about it. So I hid it under my mattress for a long time. No worries, I always had to make my own bed.

I’ve not see that book for a long time. It must have disintegrated in the washer or something.

The Lord reached out to me in many ways through the years, but I wasn’t sure what to do with those moments. He made a big difference in my life in my senior year of high school when my folks divorced. Some of my friends, who I know now the Lord led them to me, allowed God to use them. I’m so thankful to those who took the time and cared.

Spring 1970, I remember lying in bed and arguing with God that I was a good person. Events of my past slipped before my eyes like an old-time movie clip. No Keystone Cops, though. Sinful thoughts, words and actions had me fastened to the mattress. My pillow wet with perspiration. I was guilty. My soul was filthy.

I made amends by asking forgiveness, but I had a favor. I asked Him to not let my life be boring. (I’ve often wondered if that was a bad thing. Ha!) The next morning, my best friend heard of my change. She took me through town, to those who’d prayed for me for years. She wanted me to tell EVERYONE what had happened. That friend, and her folks, are now with the Lord. I thank Him for making them and others a part of my life.

God has led me through many changes though different experiences. He has given me a terrific, sweet husband who backs me up. We have a daughter who sings for the Lord in a women’s trio and works at Grace College in northern Indiana. Our son was adopted from the Philippines in 1990. God has definitely used Rolly to keep my life from boredom.

My friend, Linda and I met in 1989 and have served the Lord through different arenas. We were co-directors of mature adult groups for three churches in fifteen years. We’ve gone through thick and thin together during various life changing events.

At first, writing a book was on a lark, but God has used it. This cozy mystery is a symbol to us of His grace and direction." ~ Deb Dulworth, 2013. 

Reflections of a Stranger is a story about a woman who just so happens, has many of Linda's and my own actions and reactions laid right out there for the readers to grasp. Fortunately, we’ve not gone through the same situations Cora was in. She lost her only daughter, removed herself from others, and became cynical of God’s ways. The poor gal had no clue her decisions would take her life on a strange, three-wheeled trolley ride. Through it all, God shows her the way to peace with a wonderful future.

Reflections of a Stranger 

by Linda Hanna and Deborah Dulworth

 www.pelicanbookgroup.com

• Paperback: 284 pages
• Publisher: Harbourlight Books (August 24, 2012)
• Language: English
• ISBN-10: 1611161908
• ISBN-13: 978-1611161908

• Kindle File Size: 457 KB
• Print Length: 284 pages
• Simultaneous Device Usage: Unlimited
• Publisher: Pelican Ventures Book Group (Harbourlight Books)) (August 23, 2012)
• Sold by: Amazon Digital Services, Inc.
• Language: English
• ASIN: B0091XFU5W
• Text-to-Speech: Enabled 
• X-Ray: Not Enabled 
• Lending: Enabled

Cora and her husband, PGA golf pro Steady Eddie Timms, live in a safe gated community. So when Cora witnesses a murder, she’s shocked and frightened. But without a body, murder weapon, or evidence of a crime, Her sanity is called into question—especially when it comes to light that she’s not been dealing well with the stress and grief of losing a daughter, and her memory of late hasn’t been all it should be.

Determined to prove her sanity, Cora bursts into a flurry of danger and unanswered questions as she sets out to find evidence of foul play. With the help of a bumbling security guard, a loyal best friend, and a neighbor’s yappy dog, pieces finally fall into place. By all appearances, the mystery is solved…until Cora is kidnapped and implicated in a case of hidden identity and an old embezzlement scheme.

----    ----    ----

Linda and I are now speaking at different dinners, parties, and women’s groups. We’d love to appear at your event to share our experiences in growing up, writing, and of course, our book, if you are in the Indiana area. 

Contact: rdulworth[AT]indy.rr.com

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Winner! Comment from 
Cathy Baldwin: 
I really enjoyed this, Linda. And I always remember you as that cute little girl.

She has been informed and Linda and Deb will see that she receives their book, Reflections of a Stranger!  

Linda Hanna: Preacher's Kid with a Blessing of Humor

Linda Hanna is one of the funniest people I know. Even when times are difficult, her good humor will win out. She grew up in a pastor's home and while some PKs have stories of bitterness and ill will, Linda's is full of good memories and happiness in spite of her shyness because of moving so much. 

She aspired to be a wife and a mother when she was just a kid, but also an animator and writer (thus, why I connect with her on a heart level because those were my aspirations too. )

Linda is funny, but she has a heart full of compassion and love for her fellow humans, which is why I think you'll love her life story as much as I do:  (And she was a cutie...still is!)

Childhood Ambition: I wanted to be a wife and mother, which may sound a little boring to some, but that’s where my heart was and still is. I also wanted to be an animator and a writer.

Proudest Moment (from back then): I was a very quiet and shy girl, and had a hard time sticking up for myself. I was seven years old before it finally happened. Let me tell you the story.

It wasn't our first move, but it was definitely the first one I remember. This little western town's culture and local customs were vastly different from what I was used to.

Since most of the kids my age lived on ranches and were saddled with lots of chores, I developed a wonderful relationship with our neighbor. Tag was a lonely old widower who happened to be the town marshal. His kids were all grown up and out seeking their fortunes. Since my own grandparents lived so far away, Tag quickly became my surrogate grandpa, and we each filled a void for the other. I was a pretty good whistler and he'd listen to my mini-concerts and encourage me. He'd been a great whistler, too, in his pre-denture days. He built two swings in his backyard for me and every time he'd go into town, I'd get a candy bar! He was a great guy in every way. Except one.

Tag just loved to play practical jokes on me. I can't begin to guess how many times he successfully locked me in the chicken coop or soaked me with hose water. I would take it for just so long before my feelings would get hurt, and I'd feel the need to give that rascal a taste of his own medicine. Even though my attempts were very amateurish compared to his well thought out pranks, he waited awhile before he pulled any more tricks.

One day, I gritted my teeth from another long string of his shenanigans. That man was so proud of himself, and I figured it was high time to teach him a lesson he'd never forget. I had no idea of what that would be yet, just that I was the woman to do it.

Tag had a big garden. He always bemoaned the fact that the rabbits ate more of his lettuce and carrots than he did. Often, he’d go outside with his shotgun and binoculars and patiently wait for one of those varmints to munch on his veggies.

Once in a while, Lady Luck just smiles your way, and this was my time. There Tag was, in his driveway, leaning against his old Nash as he watched for rabbits. His binoculars hung around his neck and his gun was propped by the car. I was busy swinging when he softly called me over. He laughed, handed me the binoculars. "Get a load of that." He pointed to the garden adjacent to his own, and I peered through the lenses.

I saw his heavyset neighbor, Mae, wearing short shorts and was leaning over to pull weeds. Her more-than-ample backside was aimed right at us. Tag couldn't control his chuckles. A wonderful idea came to me as I giggled and handed the binoculars back to him. He hung them around his neck.

As nonchalantly as possible, I went to the other side of his car as he resumed his watch for more bunnies through those binoculars. I gave the loudest, longest wolf-whistle of my short life, and then ducked down behind the Nash to watch the scenario unfold.

Mae shot to an upright position and spun around. There stood Tag with his face beet red, and the binoculars still lifted mid-air. Poor man laughed in spite of himself. Mae stormed inside her house and slammed the door, obviously not appreciative of her fresh neighbor's musical remark. I thought he’d be very angry with me. However, he couldn't stop laughing. All he could say was, "Wow! I taught you well."

I'm sure he thought he had a tiger by the tail because thankfully, he stopped pranking his little neighbor girl who finally developed a backbone.

Biggest Challenge as a Child or Teen: My dad was a pastor and we moved around a lot. By the time I was 14, we had lived in 7 states. Being quiet and shy, it was difficult for me to always be the new kid on the block.

Childhood Indulgence: My childhood indulgence was daydreaming. My creative mind was like a whirling dervish and never seemed to stop. Sometimes (most of the time) all it took was one word to send my poor ADD brain ricocheting off the walls.

Favorite Childhood Movie and/or TV Show: I loved Bonanza and had a major crush on Adam Cartwright. I also loved Candid Camera. But I think my favorite shows were the Hanna/Barbera and Warner Brothers cartoons. The Flintstones and Jetsons topped my list. I was fascinated by the way cartoons were made—one frame at a time. In fact, one summer, my best friend and I pretended to be animators for the Flintstone Branch of Hanna/Barbera, Inc. After about a week, Tina and I decided that it wasn’t enough to be just simple everyday cartoonists, oh, no. We wanted to be in charge. So, we ‘married’ the bosses! Since I was a little older than Tina, I got to marry William Hanna (top billing, don’t ya know) and she married Joseph Barbera. As Paul Harvey would say, “Here’s the rest of the story.” One state, three moves and ten years later, I really did marry William Hanna, just not the cartoon mogul. 
(CM: LOL! The irony of a writer's life.)

Favorite Childhood Book: I had a couple Bible story books – one had wonderful pictures in them. I remember one of a child’s bedroom back in Bible times. For some reason, I was mesmerized by it and thought about what that little boy or girl did in there. What kind of toys did they have? The window didn’t have screens or glass, so did they ever fall out? The bed appeared quite hard. Was it more comfortable than it looked? I also enjoyed fairy tales. Mom read them to me quite often from the book she had as a little girl.

Did you pass notes or have a pen pal as a child? Yes to both. Since we moved around a lot, I kept in touch with some the friends I left behind. Later on, in middle school, my best friend was Barb, and we passed notes a lot. Barb’s high IQ always amazed me, however one day her intellect must’ve been on hiatus or something. During Science class, she was writing to me, and in that note she said how the teacher wasn’t very bright and had the audacity to mispronounce several words that any college graduate should know. She was oblivious to the fact that Mrs. Y. had stopped talking and was watching her write. Then she walked to Barb’s desk and confiscated the note. We thought a lengthy detention was surely in our future. However, Mrs. Y. didn’t do anything except take Barb’s suggestion and learn how to pronounce the words correctly.

In high school, my friend, Debra, and I were a little savvier in our daily note passing. We used stenographer notebooks. We’d accidently ‘drop’ them at the same time, then do the ol’ switcheroo. Other times we just exchanged them as we passed each other in the hallway. I’m proud to say we never got caught once.

Best friends: In Minnesota: Tara and Karen. In Montana: Debby, Corrine, Connie and can’t forget my favorite BFF and junior cowboy heartthrob, Bobby. In Pennsylvania: Mary, Joy, and Debbie. In Michigan: Tina, Barb, Jim and Glenn. In Indiana: Debra. Debra and I have remained good friends since 1966.

Any Childhood Pets? Mom and Dad were very good about letting us have pets—usually one at a time. Our dogs were: Cappy, Mike, Heidi and Dudley. Cats: Mickey, Sparky, Trixie, Patty, Mitzi and Judy. Bunnies: Frisky, Winky, Shadow, Pride, Joy, Scooter and Barney. Goldfish: Harold and Harry. And a lone canary named Puffy.

Was there anyone in your childhood who pointed you to Jesus?
Dad was the spiritual leader of our family. You can’t live with a preacher and not be pointed in the right direction. Mom helped, too, of course.

Share your introduction to Christ as a child or teen or a significant event that led to your walk with Jesus.
 I remember back when I had just turned 5 years old, Mom was at work and Dad was watching me. He told me that it didn’t matter that I was a good little girl I wouldn’t go to heaven if I didn’t ask Jesus into my heart. Being good would never be “good enough.” He explained the plan of salvation on my level and I knelt by the bed and asked Jesus into my heart. I’ve never regretted that decision. I might also add that I didn’t remain a baby Christian. My faith and devotion to the Lord has continued to grow throughout the years.

Anything else you would like to share with readers about your childhood which affected the writer you have become?  
This happened when I was about 4. Mom worked in a hospital to help supplement our income, so Dad became my evening caregiver. This meant many long hours of trying to quietly entertain myself while he prepared a sermon, studied or did other preacher duties. Usually, this was no big deal. I could roll with the punches with the best of them. However, I thought I would go completely stir crazy when he dragged me to a local Christian college library so he could study.

Of course, college libraries don’t have any kid books, so, Dad bought me a Little Golden Book—Flash Gordon. Bless his heart, he meant well, but it was a boy’s book, and my only portable one. There weren't any cute, cuddly baby animals or anything else of interest to a little girl. It had action pictures of an airplane landing on the Amazon River, people running through a dense jungle and a scary snake suspended from a tree. Since I wasn't even in Kindergarten yet, I couldn't read. So, I studied those pictures for what seemed like hours on end, and made up girlish versions of the story in my mind.

It only took a few weeks before I tired of Flash and the gang. A little girl can only dream up so many plots about the Amazon and dangling tree snakes. I made up my mind, the very next library excursion, I would be prepared!

With my brand new Easter purse packed with a motley collection of odds and ends, I envisioned myself as a woman in charge of her life. A bottle of Mom’s Evening in Paris cologne was tucked away in a little pocket and made me feel so grown up. Later that week as we headed to the college, I hugged my purse and grinned to myself. Farewell, Flash. Adios, Amazon.

I noticed something was amiss when Dad ushered me into a different building. The room was hot and stuffy with the distinct aroma of Sen-Sens and mothballs. Several men sat in a large circle of wooden folding chairs. Naturally, I was the only child there, not to mention the lone member of the female persuasion.

One by one, they prayed these l-o-n-g pastoral prayers. I had no idea of what their big, fancy preacher words meant. What I did know was the time had come to dig into my stash of supplies. Out came my lacy handkerchief. I was very apt at folding it to make twins in a cradle and other 'hanky origami' projects!

As luck would have it, the man who sat on my right had a major case of B.O. not to mention a pretty nasty breath problem, the likes of which I’d never encountered before. It smelled like something had crawled in his mouth and died. I half-expected to see a herd of flies circle his head like vultures...but I digress. Being this take-charge woman, I quickly evaluated the situation and devised a brilliant plan. If I dabbed a little cologne onto my hanky and held it up to my nose, his disgusting odor would be concealed. If that failed, the hanky twins could always be crammed up my nostrils.

I mentally patted myself on the back for packing a well-stocked purse, and casually leaned over to retrieve my little pink bag once again. I quickly made a visual sweep to be sure all heads were bowed and eyes closed, then out came the Evening in Paris. Everything was going like clockwork. I carefully removed the silver cap, and tipped the dark blue bottle onto my hanky. Just a drop would do...well, maybe two since his arms were now raised over his head. Perfect!

Then, I made a tactical error. Somehow that full bottle slipped from my hand and landed in my purse. It drenched everything inside. If you've ever smelled Evening in Paris, you can imagine the strong nauseating stench that permeated the entire stuffy room. It made me as sick as a dog. Of course, total humiliation didn't help either.

The prayer meeting dismissed almost immediately and those men fled the room like ants from a burning log. Dad must have felt sorry for me, because he never said one word. He simply lifted me into his arms and carried me to the car, the dripping purse still clutched in my hand.

I learned a very valuable lesson that night. Never, ever carry a full bottle of cologne in your purse. However, the best thing to come out of that experience was that Dad learned a lesson, too.  Never again did he drag his little girl to one of those preacher/college student prayer meetings. So, it was back to the boring college library and making up more stories about Flash and the gang for me.

Facebook: (Linda Edington Hanna)

 From Linda: Debbie Dulworth and I co-authored Reflections of a Stranger. This is a cozy mystery and was released in 2012. Currently, we’re working on our second writing project, a romantic comedy called Pressed Flowers.

Deb and Linda speaking about writing

Reflections of a Stranger 

by Linda Hanna and Deborah Dulworth

 www.pelicanbookgroup.com

• Paperback: 284 pages
• Publisher: Harbourlight Books (August 24, 2012)
• Language: English
• ISBN-10: 1611161908
• ISBN-13: 978-1611161908

• Kindle File Size: 457 KB
• Print Length: 284 pages
• Simultaneous Device Usage: Unlimited
• Publisher: Pelican Ventures Book Group (Harbourlight Books)) (August 23, 2012)
• Sold by: Amazon Digital Services, Inc.
• Language: English
• ASIN: B0091XFU5W
• Text-to-Speech: Enabled 
• X-Ray: Not Enabled 
• Lending: Enabled

Cora and her husband, PGA golf pro Steady Eddie Timms, live in a safe gated community. So when Cora witnesses a murder, she’s shocked and frightened. But without a body, murder weapon, or evidence of a crime, Her sanity is called into question—especially when it comes to light that she’s not been dealing well with the stress and grief of losing a daughter, and her memory of late hasn’t been all it should be.

Determined to prove her sanity, Cora bursts into a flurry of danger and unanswered questions as she sets out to find evidence of foul play. With the help of a bumbling security guard, a loyal best friend, and a neighbor’s yappy dog, pieces finally fall into place. By all appearances, the mystery is solved…until Cora is kidnapped and implicated in a case of hidden identity and an old embezzlement scheme.

About Linda Now:
 Through the years, I’ve written TONS of newsletter articles and scads of humorous promotional material for churches, groups, schools and businesses. Several magazine articles and a handful of devotionals also made the cut, but since I’m not a serious minded person/writer, I felt the need to limit that writing endeavor.

Debbie and I have also led several workshops dealing with Senior Adult Ministries. Lately, we’ve enjoyed speaking engagements and book signings at churches, libraries, various groups and a local Christian bookstore. 

(Contact Linda or Deb if you'd like for them to speak at your event!)

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Winner! Comment from 
Cathy Baldwin: 
I really enjoyed this Linda. And I always remember you as that cute little girl.

She has been informed and Linda and Deb will see that she receives their book, Reflections of a Stranger!  

Michelle Ule: Adventure Is Her Middle Name

 Locked out . . .

Michelle may appear to be locked out in this photo, but she has a history of getting around locked doors and gates whenever researching for genealogy or for a book she's writing. 

Traveling the world at an early age, then growing up to marry a Navy man, she's been world-cruising ever since. She has lived a fascinating life, full of adventure, so it's no wonder that she now writes fictional adventure and romance. 

Let's see what kind of childhood shaped Michelle's life and writing today:

Childhood Ambition: Writer or teacher (like my mother.)

Fondest Memory (then): I enjoyed the monthly gathering at my Italian grandparent's home with all my cousins. We ate pasta, played hide ‘n seek in the fields and outbuildings, played board and card games and listened to stories.

   The only childhood photo I could find of me reading (we’re camping, of course)

Proudest Moment (then): In a pre-schooler fury because my mother was preoccupied with the new baby and couldn't read to me, I told her I would read to myself. I picked up a book and examined the words and went back to ask her if the letter "a" was actually the word "a."

I taught myself to read that day.

Biggest Challenge as a Child or Teen:

As a traveling salesman, my father was not home much and when he did come home he tended to turn our life upside down. Out of his unpredictability, I unfortunately learned not to trust people’s word.I also learned how to escape into books when things became too challenging at home.

Michelle with her brother, Glenn

My First Job: Other than babysitting? Counting phonograph needles for my father’s business inventory.

Childhood Indulgence: Chocolate ice cream with chocolate sprinkles on top.

When you grow up, you could try another kind of ice cream, like Michelle, The Adventurer 

Favorite Outfit as a Child: A yellow and brown gingham with a full skirt. We tied a bow sash in back and I spun with glee.

 My favorite dress

Favorite Childhood Movie and/or TV Show: Lassie and My Three Sons.

Favorite Childhood Book: Little Town on the Prairie by Laura Ingalls Wilder.

Favorite Childhood Activity/Pastime: While I grew up in a suburb of Los Angeles, we lived at the end of a cul de sac above a canyon. We spent hours running through the open fields and into the gully, inventing stories, building houses from tumble weeds, balancing on a plank across a storm runoff and generally running wild.

Michelle's smiling face

Childhood Hero: I admired writers: Madeleine L'Engle, Laura Ingalls Wilder, Louisa May Alcott, Helen Keller. I was a fan of Mighty Mouse as a young child, not to mention Lassie and Timmy!

Favorite historical facts from your childhood: (or something that stands out from the period when you were a child.)  I sat up late working a jig saw puzzle with the black and white TV airing Neil Armstrong and Edwin Aldrin’s moon walk in 1969!

 I’m in the car coat in front of my grandfather.

The most poignant photograph in our family; My great-grandfather Conrad standing at his second wife's fresh grave with their five children. My grandmother, his oldest child by the first wife, became her siblings' mother soon thereafter and had to drop out of school. :-( 

Did your parents or grandparents tell stories to you about their childhoods? Anything stand out? I come from a family of storytellers and I heard lots of tales from the extreme: "I only had one crayon growing up and it was black" (my mother) to the amazing: "The Indians would come to my grandmother's back door and ask us for food. She always told me to give them something, even if it was only an egg" (this was my grandmother's story.)

My father sold newspapers trumpeting the Pearl Harbor attacks. With his earnings he bought a green atlas and followed the war in Europe across the map with pencil markings.

 First passport photo—do I really want this to appear in public? The tight smile is hiding braces, of course!

Travel and history were how we connected with our father. He shared his love of history with us during a summer-long camping trip through Europe in which he introduced us to the histories and horror of war—like the Dachau concentration camp—by telling us his childhood memories of the events.

 My family camped in this VW bus for an entire European summer.

Michelle on the right with brothers, Glenn and Charlie

Anything else you would like to share with readers about your childhood which affected the writer you have become? 
I grew up in a multi-cultural community in which the mysteries of foreign languages spun around me daily. I’m interested in how the same story translates from one culture to the next and those themes appear in The Dogtrot Christmas and The Gold Rush Christmas. 

First visit to my alma mater (and that of my parents and son): UCLA

Michelle, in the band, UCLA.
A Mini-Story from Michelle :A woman in Zumba asked me about my UCLA sweatshirt and we swapped stories. I'm the middle of three generations of UCLA graduates, she's the third of four. Quite a pedigree! It turns out we were there at the same time, 1974-1977 and I said, "Then you saw me."

What? 

"If you're a football fan, you saw me march in the UCLA band. I also wrote for the Daily Bruin."

She recognized my maiden name. Fun!

 

About Michelle's Writing:
Her debut novella, The Dogtrot Christmas, was published in Barbour Publishing’s A Log Cabin Christmas Collection, September 2011 and appeared on The New York Times best seller list on October 2, 2011.

An Inconvenient Gamble, a novella, will appear in The Texas Brides Collection, due out May, 2013.  

"The Gold Rush Christmas" novella in The PioneerChristmas Collection (Barbour) September 2013

Michelle in Prague, Czechoslavakia probably the day her husband was sworn into the US Navy in 1976.

About Michelle:

A New York Times bestselling writer, Michelle Ule is a long-time follower of Jesus Christ who lives in northern California. A native of San Pedro, California, she graduated from UCLA where she marched in the clarinet section of the band and wrote for the UCLA Daily Bruin.

As a retired Navy wife, Michelle has a terrific husband, four brilliant children, two perfect daughter-in-laws and four adorable grandchildren.

Michelle teaches Bible study to a group of precocious women, counsels women in crisis at a local pregnancy counseling center, and works at a landmark literary agency. In her free time, she travels, writes and reads.

A noted genealogist in some of the more obscure corners of the Internet, she’s the author of Pioneer Stock and Travels with Jeanette, along with several other genealogy books and traveler’s tales.

She’s currently writing an inspirational romance about Civil War General John Hunt Morgan and his wife Mattie Ready, and has several contemporary novels in the works or completed. 

She’s interested in how people live through difficulties with their spiritual life intact, as well as how to live a hope-full life within the context of a hostile society. She’s curious about the why and how, and likes to add an ironic twist to her stories.

The work closest to Michelle’s heart is her as-yet unpublished spiritual memoir, Loving God Without a Label–the story of how she found God at work through thirteen moves, a variety of denominations and many different church and parachurch settings.

Michelle at her book signing

Bridging Two Hearts (Harlequin) Feb 15, 2013

Michelle's first book, Bridging Two Hearts. If you're interested in Navy SEALS, massage therapy, the Hotel del Coronado or a fun little love story, you can order it on Amazon!

www.michelleule.com

Michelle's Books

Michelle on Twitter

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Michelle Ule and Her Life

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Jean Ann Williams: Writer Close to God's Heart

Jean Ann with the doll her grandmother, Nanny, gave to her on her third birthday.

Every time that I start one of these interviews, I really don't know the "full" story until I start putting together the words and photos here. Jean Ann Williams' story will not disappoint you--full of poignancy and sorrows, but grit and some fun, too. After you read her story, you'll love her like I do. Part of her journey to becoming a Christian, and also to becoming a writer brings tears, and also an overwhelming joy of how God works out the details. 

Jean Ann signs her emails with this verse:

I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me. Philippians 4:13

She has learned through many things that she can do all things as she leans fully on Jesus. He truly has strengthened her when she wasn't sure she could do it. 

I think you're going to love Jean Ann's story: 

Childhood Ambition:
I had three ambitions if the first one didn’t work out and so on: wife and a mother of eight children, racehorse jockey, and race car driver.

Fondest Memory (then):
My dad owned 99 acres in Southern Oregon, and we lived in an old stagecoach house. I loved to slide down a steep hill in a cardboard box, and see if I could stop before I hit the stream below. I got wet a lot at first, but learned how to stop.

Proudest Moment (then):
When at age twelve I learned how to make a large quilt with our discarded clothes.
 

Here with Chris, and dog Laddie, when Jean Ann was ten, and began helping her mother more because of her mother's illness after she gave birth to Chris.

Biggest Challenge as a Child or Teen:
When I was ten years old, my mother had a nervous breakdown after my second to the youngest brother was born. Since I was the eldest of seven children, my workload increased in order to help my mother with the chores and the care of my brothers and sisters. 

Jean Ann wearing the dress she made with the money she earned from her summer job.

When the stagecoach house caught fire, my youngest sister Maria died in the fire. I had just turned thirteen, and my mother never fully recovered from the loss her daughter. After the fire, I no longer “helped,” but did the bulk of Mom’s work, cooking, cleaning, and disciplining my siblings. I had blessed breaks though, to spend the night at my friend Cindy’s house. 

Jean Ann holding Eric, her youngest sibling, the summer before she became engaged to her husband.

My First Job:  

I had a summer babysitting job for our neighbors’ of six children. I made enough money to buy material to make dresses for my sophomore year of high school.

Childhood Indulgence:
Hmmm, that’s a hard one. Oh, I know! Before I had the big summer babysitting job, I did Saturday night babysitting from time to time for another neighbor. With that money, I bought one package of chocolate creamed-filled cookies and one of banana creamed-filled cookies. You must be wondering if I shared them with my siblings. I gave most of the chocolate ones to my brothers and sisters, because I was not crazy about chocolate. The banana creams were all mine, and yes, I had to hide them. 

Favorite Outfit as a Child:
My grandmother Nanny bought me an outfit with coat, gloves, and hat when I was seven years old. That was my first experience of dolling up. I looked like a miniature of my Nanny, for she always wore the same type of outfit when she drove to the bank and bought groceries afterward in the small cotton industry town in San Joaquin Valley of California. 

Great Grandpa Dime and Nanny

 
Favorite Childhood Movie and/or TV Show:
Any Shirley Temple movie. We lived for one year in Big Bend, CA, where my dad worked on a crew to build a tunnel. Every Friday night the town would show up for a free Shirley Temple movie at the community building. We’d receive a candy bar on our way out afterward. All this in courtesy of Shirley’s dad, who funded the building project of the new dam nearby.

Favorite Childhood Book:
My grandmother, Nanny, read Mother Goose to me.

Favorite Childhood Activity/Pastime:
At around five years old, I dreamed up this imaginary man that lived in my coat pocket. I talked to him and he went with me everywhere. My mother never made me feel silly to have the man, so the fantasy continued. My younger uncle, Uncle Tony (who later married and had eleven children), found out about my friend and suggested that he was hungry. Uncle Tony’s suggestion upset me to think I had failed to feed my friend. Uncle Tony calmed me by giving some of his bread to put in my pocket. From that time on, I fed my man bread at every meal. 

One day I told some children I had a little man in my pocket. They laughed and called me a baby, because there was no such thing as a man in my pocket. After they left, I went to my mother sobbing. Mom soothed me and said if I believed there was a little man in my pocket then there was one. My mother gave me the freedom to choose to continue the fantasy or not. Since the children made me feel childish and silly, I chose not to keep the little man that lived in my coat pocket. He disappeared as quietly as he had appeared.

Childhood Hero:
I’d have to say my dad was my childhood hero. When I was small, I told my dad I would grow up one day and marry him. He laughed and laughed, and said he was already married to my mom. Humph! I thought. I guess I hadn’t understood all that at the time. 

Jean Ann in her wedding dress that she made in home economics class.

Jean Ann's Grandparents, Nanny and Papa

What people in your childhood led you to Jesus?
Actually, a nun began my journey to find out who this Jesus was. She was a tiny lady, young, pretty, and fun. She even showed us her cut off hair under her head covering. One time, she gave a whole lesson on Jesus. After that, my friend Cindy and I would discuss these things to the point that we began a quest together to learn about Jesus. Later, at sixteen, my fiancé bought us a family Bible and we studied the scriptures. Almost two years after we married, we accepted Christ and were baptized together. 

Jim and Jean and their first Christmas as a married couple. Jim had just gotten his first job as a police officer in the same town her Nanny had lived in.

Jean Ann's three children and the backup singer in their Christian rock band, 3D.

Anything else you would like to share with readers about your childhood which affected the writer you have become?
Yes, several things affected me as a future writer. My mother told me the story about the time I was lying on my back looking at a book with no pictures, but it was upside down. She said, “Jeannie Ann, what are you doing?” I said, “I’m reading.” Mom chuckled at the time, and then later after I grew up she told me that story.

I wanted to read, but the problem came when I couldn’t seem to learn and so I repeated the third grade. I went through the phonics program and then I was able to read. By fourth grade, I was reading like the other students. It opened a whole new world for me. And you better believe I cherished the fact I could read and learn about life and how things worked. The school library was my favorite hang out in each level of school I attended.

When I was fifteen, on Friday nights I used to read and write poetry by the light of a flashlight under the covers until two in the morning. As an adult, I took an entrance test for college and the test showed I had dyslexia. The many things I struggled with made sense then.

  

I began learning the craft of writing eighteen years ago, and within two years, I published an article about my husband’s job as a high school resource officer, titled “Don’t Call Him Cop.” I went on to publish non-fiction for children and teens in various magazines, all the while writing book length fiction for the same age groups. About six years into my writing craft, I wrote my first short story about two parents who chose the street drug life over their children. My main editor at the time snatched the story up and paid me the most money I had ever earned in my writing endeavors. I realized my writing strength might be in short stories.

 

I began my first upper middle grade novel sixteen years ago, as well as four other children’s books. The upper MG’s working title, CLAIRELEE A.D. (AFTER DENIAL), has placed Letter of Merit twice. CLAIRELEE A.D. has evolved over the years to a very different book with characters written out and new characters written in. The story is about ClaireLee, whose mother became ill after childbirth, and her need to find herself. She let’s one lie slip, and before she knows it, she resorts to telling lies to get into the infamous Lavender Girls Club. 

I must say CLAIRELEE A.D. has been my learning how-to-write-a-novel story. Even if she never sees publication, it was time well spent, for I have loved the characters and the story for almost two decades.

Recently, I’ve included in my writing and publishing, true stories for devotional and other anthology books. I’ve sold my work for the adult market for two years now. My dear friend, Pat, suggested I write a devotional book on the loss of my son Joshua who died by suicide. As I read her words of suggestion in an e-mail, I sensed a prompting from Lord God. My friend’s idea came as an answer to several years of prayer. This is how I could share with the world God’s mercies through the long journey over the loss of Joshua. The book is nearly completed and has a working title of GOD’S MERCIES AFTER SUICIDE: BLESSINGS WOVEN THROUGH A MOTHER’S HEART.

Jean Ann's Writing: 

Jean Ann Williams has published over five-dozen articles and short stories for children and the adult magazines, including E-zines. You may read Jean Ann’s articles about the loss of her son Joshua by putting in Jean Ann Williams in the search box at the top right on OpenToHope. 

Grandmothers, Mother and Me: Memories, Poetry and Good Food.

Also, see more of her writings about her journey of loss at Love Truth:Hope After Suicide:  http://joshua-mom.blogspot.com/  where you can also find a list of grief sites--

 --and a site about her writing and book reviews at http://jeanannwilliams.blogspot.com/. 

In celebration of mothers and grandmothers, Jean Ann’s story is featured in the book anthology Grandmothers, Mother and Me: Memories, Poetry and Good Food. Her article “Nanny and Me, Punkie Jean” is about her wonderful grandmother Nanny. The book came out in October and is available at Amazon and Barnes and Noble. 

Last year, in an anthology Love is A Verb Devotional by Gary Chapman, her story “Great-grandmother, God and Me,” is about how God showed her she needed to change her heart and not that of her great-grandmother’s. You may order Love is A Verb Devotional at Amazon.

Grandmother, Mother and Me: Memories, Poetry and Good Food is now available at Amazon.  

Her blog site to help other grieving mothers who have lost a child to suicide: Love Truth.

CJ Booksigning with Jean Ann

Jean Ann's family when Josh was 15.

About the "Kid:"
Jean Ann Williams has published over five-dozen articles and short stories for magazines, including E-zines.

Jean Ann and husband with their son, Joshua at his graduation
Jean Ann shares hope at her blog: Love Truth: Hope After Suicide, sharing how parents cope in the wake of when your child dies by suicide. 

Last June when Jami's eldest daughter Morgan Ann graduated from high school pictured with Jean Ann and Jim.

Nana Jean Ann and granddaughter Morgan Ann

Jean Ann doing what she enjoys--Cutting down a neighbor's cracked trees and then playing in its branches. She piled them to burn. She also loves her goats and playing with them.(And they are perfectly "at home" with all the "kids" on When I Was Just a Kid....)

Jean Ann's Kids at Play

Pepper the goat on Jean Ann's lap

Soon to come out in celebration of Mother’s Day is a book of short stories where Jean Ann contributes her true story titled “Nanny and Me, Punkie Jean.”

Jean Ann holding her youngest brother, Eric when they were just kids

Jean Ann's baby brother Eric, who died in direct relation to the Iraq War. She is the oldest of nine children.

Jean Ann's children: Jami and Jason

Jean Ann's family in 1984, Joshua, Jim, Jami, Jason and Jean

Christmas with the Williams Family

When Jean and Jim used to ride their motorcycles. They sold it because her neck couldn't handle the jostling any longer.

The Lord blessed Jean Ann with three children altogether, with Joshua already passed over to the Great Beyond at the age of twenty-five. Jean Ann and her husband Jim have thirteen grandchildren from their remaining two children, Jami, forty-one, and Jason, forty. The grandchildren’s ages span from eighteen-years-old to a newborn:  

 A birth announcement from Jean Ann: Our son and his wife have a new baby girl (name forthcoming) born January 8th, 2013 at 12:35. This makes baby number eight for them and thirteen wonderful grandchildren for my husband and me. I call them our Baker's Dozen! God is soooo good!

Jean Ann lives in a quaint valley of Southern Oregon with her husband of forty-two years and their twenty chickens, three doe goats, which include a newborn buckling, and Chloe the guard dog. 

You may read more about Jean Ann and her work at 
http://joshua-mom.blogspot.com/ and
http://jeanannwilliams.blogspot.com/.