Appalachian Wedding Cake by Susan Tekulve

I came to know my mother-in-law, Mary, through the recipes she gave to me. In my memory, I always see and hear Mary in the kitchen of the two-story brick house my father-in-law built after he retired from the Norfolk and Southern Railroad, in the mountain town of Bluefield, Virginia, where Mary had lived all her life, and raised all five of her children.  When my husband, Rick, and I went back to Virginia for a visit, Mary and I often woke before dawn and sat across from each other at the kitchen table, waiting for the sun to rise, and for the rest of the house to wake.  Sometimes, we peeled apples together. Rick’s grandmother still lived back on the family’s home place, on a ridge between a limestone quarry and the town’s cemetery.  Below the grandmother’s house was a green apple tree that continually dropped spotted, lopsided apples onto the gravel drive leading to the grandmother’s house.  Rick’s father wouldn’t throw any of the fallen fruit away.  Summers, he brought home a bushel basket full of bruised and torn apples every evening, after he’d been up to check on his mother.

Susan Tekulve, author

Mary and I would stand in the morning quiet of her kitchen, peeling and discarding the damaged spots off each apple, dropping the good slices into a pot of water, sugar, cinnamon and cloves, boiling this mixture into dark brown apple butter. While the apples simmered, Mary baked six thin layers of a gingery molasses cake, three at a time, in three well-seasoned cast iron skillets. When the cake layers cooled, she stacked them, frosting each layer with the apple butter.  The cake was supposed to “age” for a day, so that the apple butter could soak into the spiced layers until they became sweet and delicate.  Nobody in the house ever waited for this cake to age.  They ate it young, right after supper, which was always served at midday at my in-law’s house.

Mary called this dessert molasses cake, or apple stack cake. Though she made this cake for all kinds of family gatherings, it was once the traditional wedding cake at Appalachian weddings.  The brides who lived on the remote sides of these Southern mountains relied on their guests to bring a thin layer of molasses cake when they arrived at the wedding, and the brides’ family members would assemble the cake, spreading apple butter between the layers. It is said that the popularity of the bride determined the final height of the cake.

This is a humble-looking cake that most women of this region make without a written recipe.  It’s not difficult. It requires only the patience for simmering a bushel of apples into butter, and waiting for six layers of cake to bake. While we waited for the cake layers to cool, Mary often told stories about her family.  She’d grown up in a trailer on the other side of Bluefield, on a ridge known locally as Dump Hill.  My father-in-law always said that Mary’s early upbringing was so rough that the details of what happened to her as a child on Dump Hill could not be repeated.  Though she hardly ever spoke of herself, Mary told stories about the women of her family.  These women married young and faced almost unendurable hardships—poverty, abandonment, violence–and endured.

Perhaps the bitterness of Mary’s past was what prompted her to adore anything sweet. Perhaps her hardscrabble childhood and early marriage made her into the genuinely kind mother woman who readily adopted me as her daughter-in-law, and taught me how to make the Appalachian wedding cake recipe she’d learned from her own mother-in-law.

When Mary passed away from cancer, Rick’s father began making all of Mary’s dessert recipes—brown sugar fudge, chess pie, and banana pudding—for the family. The last time Rick and I visited Virginia, I woke early and found Rick’s father in the kitchen. The whole house smelled warmly of the ginger and molasses cakes that he’d been baking while the rest of the house slept.  As he assembled and iced the cake layers, his grizzled face softened, turning almost boyish.  I could tell he was remembering Mary, perhaps recalling her as a young wife, still healthy enough to stand in that kitchen for hours, peeling those homely apples, baking those humble layers of cake.  Larry had baked his cake layers in different sized skillets, and he’d iced the layers with cooked apples rather than apple butter.  The finished cake looked a bit like a lopsided beehive, but there was no mistaking.  It was an Appalachian wedding cake.    We ate it “young,” drizzled with caramel, and dusted with powdered sugar.

Here is the recipe for Appalachian Wedding Cake.  I use 3  9-inch cake pans instead of 3 cast iron skillets—mainly because I don’t own 3 cast iron skillets that are the same size.  If I don’t have the time to make my own, I use apple butter that you can find at produce stands or at church bake sales.  I pretty up the cake a little, dusting the assembled layers with powdered sugar, drizzling the top and sides with caramel sauce, garnishing it with a few slices of dried apples.

Wedding Cake by Susan Tekulve

Appalachian Wedding Cake

1 cup sugar

1 cup unsalted butter, room temp.

1 cup molasses

3 eggs

4 cups all purpose flour

1 tsp. baking powder

½ tsp. baking soda

1 tsp. salt

1 tsp. ground ginger

1 tsp. cinnamon

½ tsp. ground clove

1 cup buttermilk

1 tsp. vanilla extract

2 ½ cups apple butter, preferably homemade

powdered sugar, for dusting

Dried apples and caramel sauce for decorating

Method:  Preheat oven to 375 degrees.  Grease 3 9-inch cake pans.  Combine all dry ingredients and sift.  Cream butter and sugar together.  Add molasses and eggs and mix until combined.  Alternating dry and wet, add in sifted flour mixture and buttermilk.  Stir in vanilla extract and divide half the batter among the three greased cake pans.  Bake for 8-10 minutes, or until a toothpick comes out clean when tested in the center of a cake.  Let cool for a few minutes, then invert cakes onto paper plates.  Bake the other half of the batter.

When all cakes have cooled, spread several tablespoons of the apple butter on each layer—stacking as you go.  Wrap cake tightly and let “mature” for a day.  Or, if you can’t wait that long, dust finished cake with powdered sugar and serve.

In the Garden of Stone by Susan Tekulve

Winner of the South Carolina First Novel Prize in 2012,In the Garden of Stone by Susan Tekulve is a multi-generational tale about the nature of power and pride, love and loss, and how one impoverished family endures estrangement from their land and each other in order to unearth the rich seams of forgiveness. Bleak, harrowing, and beautifully told, In the Garden of Stone, is a haunting saga of endurance and redemption.  Visit her website http://susantekulve.com/

Southern Fiction Author Steve Brown Answers the Dames’ Dozen

Southern historical fiction author Steve Brown is in the spotlight today. A little backstory for our readers; Steve and I belong to the WNC Writers’ Guild, a group that meets on the second Thursday of every month, and we often engage in, um, how shall I put this, “friendly” discussions about the future of the publishing industry and what works best for an author today. Steve is what I lovingly refer to as a “dinosaur” and I feel duty-bound to drag him into the 21^st century, whether he likes it or not. In all seriousness, I admire the fact that he can—and does!—sell a great many books “face to face” but I shudder at doing the same thing. In fact, I know I would be a miserable failure if I tried it so my hat’s off to him. That said, I’d be interested to know how our readers feel about his, um, rather outdated approach to sales. Okay, here we go…

Welcome, Steve! Tell us about your latest book, Charleston’s Lonely Heart Hotel.

Charleston’s Lonely Heart Hotel is the story of building of the first bridge across the Cooper River in Charleston. I affectionately call it “Grey’s Anatomy builds a bridge” because there are not enough hotel rooms for all the men who come to town to build the bridge. A woman living on South Battery Street opens her house up to several engineers who she puts in a row of beds in the downstairs reception hall. Well, nature abhors a vacuum, so the second floor of the mansion fills up with wives, girlfriends, and fiancées. The Great Cooper River Bridge was built during the Roaring Twenties. The book that follows is Charleston’s House of Stuart, set in 1930, after the stock market crash of 1929. There is a good bit of bootlegging lore in the story.

I’ve heard quite a bit about this book and I’m looking forward to reading it. Can you share a little bit about what you’re working on now or what’s coming next?

Charleston on the Potomac is the third book following these same families who live south of Broad, in the same mansion on Charleston’s Battery. This third book deals with how South Carolina sent a man to the United States Senate, and for every one dollar the state of South Carolina sent to Washington, this South Carolina senator returned twenty-seven dollars back to his state.

Since these stories are about society, I spend most of my time writing about women and the changing rules of the game.

Okay, brace yourself everyone, here comes the topic that Steve and I often go round and round about! Steve, promotion is a big—and usually the most hated—part of being a writer. Can you share a little bit about how you promote?

I don’t believe in social media. Face to face is the only way to sell books, so I do book signings every weekend at Books-A-Million and Barnes and Noble.

Uh-huh, well, you know how I feel about that, Steve. I will grant you this, it all depends on what the author is most comfortable doing. Who or what has been the biggest influence in your writing career and why?

Jack Pyle and Taylor Reese. Fifteen years ago, they told me to stop waiting to be “discovered” and get out there and sell my books.

Having met Jack and Taylor (two of the founding members of our writing group), I agree with you, they’re an inspiration to everyone who meets them. What do you consider the single most satisfying aspect of being a writer?

That I have the opportunity to comment on society. For instance, a sixty-year-old woman says in the third book of the trilogy: “Back in my day, the family raised the children, not the federal government.”

I love that and it’s so true. Of course, back then, families didn’t expect the government to raise the children. I don’t know when that changed but I think that’s one of the areas where we need to go back to the old ways. Mark Twain said, “Southerners speak music…” Do you have a favorite southern saying you can share with our readers?

Two Southern girls watching a Yankee boy and his fiancee walk by. One belle turns to the other and says, “If I understand correctly, Yankee boys treat their women as equals.” The other belle is horrified. “Now why would they do that? Don’t they know that men were put on earth to serve women?”

I’ve never heard that one before but I have to admit, it made me smile. What are major themes or motifs in your work?

One of my editors told me that she loves my female characters because they have so many rules they have to get around. And sexism never goes away. It is a constant theme throughout all of my stories. As I have pointed out on more than one occasion, if you are writing about society, you really don’t spend a lot of time on men’s problems!

Ahem, this is another of our “friendly” topics of discussion so…I’m just going to move on. What is your VERB? (This is a big poster at a local mall) If you had to choose ONE verb that describes you and your behavior or attitude, what would it be?

Ruthlessly true to the historical record. I never shade anything for anyone, conservatives or liberals. And I never forget that a real man is an incomplete man.

Good choice! Fits you to a tee. Describe your writing process once you sit down to write and tell us where you get your ideas.

When I sit down to write, I always ask myself the two questions any reader asks when they open a new book: Where am I and do I want to be there? All readers ask that, and the answer to those two questions determines if the reader will read your story.

The ideas usually just pop in my head. I’ll be doing something else, usually driving along on my way to a book signing, and shazam! For example, I wanted to write a novel about building the first bridge over the Cooper River in Charleston, and at book signings I would talk about my next project. (That’s where I do my market research.) No one was interested until I mentioned that the bridge was built during the Roaring Twenties.

Well, I have to admit, that’s a great way to do market research. It takes you right to the heart of your readers and what they want to read. Did the classics have any effect on you in your formative years? (Shakespeare? Alice in Wonderland? Gulliver’s Travels?)

Nah. I read the Hardy Boys, Tom Swift, and the sci-fi novels of Andre Norton, and watched a lot of movies where I learned that the “presentation of the material was all important.” When I got to college, I read the Travis McGee novels of John D. McDonald, the Matt Helm stories by Donald Hamilton, the Desmond Bagley novels of suspense, and watched even more movies. When I was overseas in the service, I discovered Modesty Blaise who I thought was incredibly cool, and scary, for a girl, so I occasionally bring a tough broad like Modesty back to life in my stories.

Oh, wow, I hadn’t thought about McDonald’s Travis McGee novels in forever and a day. I used to love those and have no idea what made me quit reading them. How do your characters “come” to you? Are they based loosely or closely on people you know?

My characters are chosen by the historical record. If you write about the antebellum South, you must create a Yankee character who voices misgivings about slavery, and it’s better if that character is a woman because she is more heavily invested in Northern culture.

Yes, that’s the method my sister and I used, and continue to use, for the series of books about our great aunt’s life. Historical record, combined with family stories. It’s amazing to me when they converge. What’s your attitude toward the standard writing advice; write what you know?

Well, if that’s true, then I must think one hell of a lot about women. Carolina Girls, my most popular book, with over ten thousand in print, begins with four different seventeen-year old girls who go to the beach in the sixties. Well, I have been seventeen, but I’ve never been a girl nor did I EVER go to the beach until I was close to thirty.

I’ve read Carolina Girls and enjoyed it very much. For anyone who grew up in the sixties and early seventies, it’s a must read, an engaging trip down memory lane. Thanks so much for being with us today, Steve. I enjoyed it and hope you survived your foray into cyber-space!

Readers, if you’d like to find out more about Steve’s work, visit his website Chick Springs Publishing.

Blueberries for All by Kate Flora

Tools of the blueberry trade by Kate Flora

For my 55th birthday, my husband, who dislikes jewelry and ostentation, but believes in celebrating important occasions, bought me a blueberry field. The field is about 18 acres of berries on a lovely wide-open, elevated slope in Maine looking a pond. Should anyone happen to be picking berries that late in the day, it has sunset views to the west. I am very excited about being a blueberry grower whose land produces between 75,000 and 90,000 pounds of berries, especially after completing twelve hours of USDA training in how to be a better farmer.

My children and my nieces and nephew have gone running through that field on our post-Thanksgiving walks. We’ve collected bird skeletons, shotgun shells, strange rocks, returnable bottles, and other treasures there. Buying it felt like bringing a piece of the farm back into the family. When the papers were signed and the field was really and truly mine, I took an ecstatic run through it, the crisp, fall-red bushes crunching underfoot, to celebrate my special gift.

My field is next door to the farm where I grew up, so it has been on my personal landscape forever. When I was born prematurely, a July baby instead of the September one my parents were expecting, the nurse who could cradle my entire small self in her hand called me “little blueberry eyes.” As kids, to make spending money, my sibs and I would pick quarts of blueberries and sell them on a little table at the edge of the driveway. When it wasn’t a blueberry year (wild Maine blueberries are an every other year crop), my brother and sister and I rambled through the field.

Rake and berries by Kate Flora

As soon as I was old enough, I got a job working on a raking crew–out at the crack of dawn every morning in late July and August, riding to the fields in the back of a pick-up truck, and spending the day working down my rows, lined out with white string, and lugging the heavy baskets of berries to the winnowing machine and getting a tick or a punch on my card. Those fields were fraught with danger. Sandra, Janet and I were shy, rural girls of twelve or thirteen. There were strangers on the crew, silent, foreign men who’d come over from Canada to work the crops. There were nests of wasps in the ground that would swarm up and surround you if you disturbed them. Huge colorful garden spiders and even bigger brown spiders waited to crawl up your arm or your leg. The sudden, sinuous departure of a startled snake could make your heart stop.

For a farmer’s daughter in a family without much spare cash, those ticks marking baskets filled translated into dollars that became new school clothes–a pair of golden brown corduroy pants, a matching striped sweater, a soft blue Garland skirt and sweater set from Isabel Abbott’s store on the Union Common. They became a small transistor radio in a brown leather case that got the best reception if I set it on one of the burners of the stove. Once, my absent-minded father turned on the burner under my radio. Ever after, my treasured radio had black scorch rings on the smart brown leather.

Kate Flora, Blueberry Queen, 2001

A few summers later, I left the fields for the processing plant, sitting on a stool along a long conveyor belt, a row of women on each side, feeling very young among the housewives looking to make some spare money–to augment the family budget, to buy school clothes for their children, to save for that new washer or freezer or a second car. As the berries came in from the field, they pour onto the belt, and our job was to pick out all the stuff that winnowing (pouring the berries into a machine where a fan would blow out the leaves and sticks and tiny green berries) hadn’t caught. Along with the leaves and sticks and chunks of moss and dirt, there were spiders again. Also bugs, bees, and the occasional mouse that we tough, fearless, women had to pick off the belt. The berries rolled off at the end into flat, plastic-lined boxes and went away to be frozen. The day’s harvest had to be processed the same day they were picked, and if the crews had had an especially productive day, we worked as late into the night as necessary. In those pre-cell phone days, I would sometimes use the office phone to cancel a date because I had to work. It was hard physical work, directly connected to the production of food. I felt very lucky to have the job and very grown-up.

While I was picking out the bugs and the dirt, my mother, the late country-living writer A. Carman Clark, was busy researching recipes for the brochure she was writing for the Maine Blueberry Festival, held yearly at the Union Fair. I would come home from staring at blueberries all day long to a line-up of blueberry desserts that needed to be tasted and evaluated. One year I was even a candidate for Maine Blueberry Queen.

Recently, mystery writer  Katherine Hall Page, whose character is a caterer, commented that one of the hardest parts of writing her books is creating the recipes, because of all the experimenting that goes into creating them. It reminded me of those Union Fair blueberry recipe days.

Here are some of those recipes, many of them old fashion Maine recipes, for you to try.

Union Fair Blueberry Recipes from the kitchen of A. Carman Clark:

Kate Flora and blueberry pie

Blueberry Duff

2 c. flour
, 1 t. baking powder,
 1/2 t. baking soda,
 1 1/2 c. blueberries, 
1/3 c. brown sugar,
 1/3 c. molasses,
1/3 c. butter,
 1/3 c. milk

Blend sugar, molasses and butter. Mix in all ingredients except blueberries. Butter a mold (or 2 lb. metal coffee can) and layer batter and berries until 2/3 full. Cover and steam in a kettle of boiling water for 1 1/2 hours. Serve hot with foamy sauce, hard sauce or ice cream.

Blueberry Slump (or Grunt)

1 1/2 c. flour,
 2 t. baking powder, 
1/2 t. salt,
 1/4 c. sugar
, 1/2 c. milk,
 1/2 c. water,
 1 quart blueberries, 
2/3 c. sugar,
 2 T. butter

SLUMP: In a deep skillet or wide-bottom kettle put water ,butter, 2/3 c. sugar and berries. Bring to a boil. Mix remaining ingredients to a stiff batter. Spoon over berries as dumplings. Cover tightly and simmer for 12 minutes. Do not remove cover during this time.

GRUNT: Preheat oven to 400. Grease a deep baking dish or casserole and into this put berries, sugar and water. Place in oven while mixing dough. Blend butter into flour. Add other ingredients. Spoon over hot berries. Bake for 20 minutes.

Blueberry Crunch

1/2 c. oatmeal,
 1/2 c. wheatgerm, 
1/2 c. flour (white or whole wheat), 
2/3 c. sugar,
 1/2 c. dry powered milk,
 1/2 t. salt,
 1/2 t. cinnamon,
 1/2 c. butter, 
2 c. blueberries

Mix dry ingredients. Blend in butter with pastry blender. Spread 1/2 mixture in a buttered baking dish. Spread blueberries over this and top with remaining crunch mixture. Bake at 350 for 45 minutes. Serve hot or cold.

Blueberry Dessert Squares

15 Graham crackers, rolled fine,
 1/3 c. sugar,
 1/2 c. melted butter. Blend and pat into 9″ square pan 
Blend & Spread over crumb mix:
1 8 oz. pkg. cream cheese
,1/3 c. sugar, 
2 eggs,
1/2 t. vanilla

Bake at 350 for 30 minutes. Cool and refrigerate over night. Spoon 1 can blueberry pie filling over top. Chill. Cut into squares and serve.

Flummery

4 c. blueberries, 
3/4 c. sugar, 
8 slices buttered bread, crusts trimmed
 Simmer washed berries and sugar about 8 minutes.
Layer generously buttered bread and hot berries in deep baking dish or bread pan. Chill overnight. Serve with whipped cream or ice cream.

Kate Flora and blueberry pie

Kate Flora first developed her fascination with people’s criminal tendencies as a lawyer in the Maine attorney general’s office. Deadbeat dads, people who beat and neglected their kids, and employers hateful acts of discrimination led to a deep curiosity about human psychology that’s led to twelve books including seven “strong woman” Thea Kozak mysteries and three gritty police procedurals in her star-reviewed Joe Burgess series. Her first true crime, Finding Amy, has been optioned for a movie.

When she’s not writing, or teaching writing at Grub Street in Boston, she’s usually found in her garden, where she wages a constant battle against critters, pests, and her husband’s lawnmower. She’s been married for 35 years to a man who can still make her laugh. She has two wonderful sons, a movie editor and a scientist, a lovely daughter-in-law, and four rescue “granddogs,” Frances, Otis, Harvey, and Daisy.

She’s just sent her editor the fourth Joe Burgess mystery, And Grant You Peace, and is working on POD versions of the earlier books.  Visit website
www.kateflora.com and her friends www.mainecrimewriters.com

Author Allen Rizzi Answers the Dames’ Dozen

Today, the Dames are pleased to present multi-genre author/poet/songwriter Allen Rizzi. Welcome, Allen. Tell us about your latest book, Our First Year – Sketches from an Alpine Village.

Our First Year – Sketches from an Alpine Village is the true story of an American couple’s first year living abroad in northern Italy. Told through short, often humorous sketches, this book introduces the reader to life in Italy’s South Tirol region through the eyes of newly arrived American residents. Centered in the small alpine village of Tret, the people, language, and customs here come to life through a personal narrative of everyday living. This book is available exclusively through Amazon’s Kindle Store.

I’m not much of a traveler but if I ever do travel abroad, Italy would be #1 on my list of places to go. Since I’m terrified of flying, I’ll have to read your book and live vicariously through you and your wife. Can you share a little bit about what you’re working on now or what’s coming next?

I have just released a second book on Amazon’s Kindle platform entitled, The Blackest of Canyons. This is a personal memoir set against a background of 50 years of fly fishing in the American West.

Two other books will be released in March of 2013. The first is scholarly work devoted to the history and restoration of an antique cemetery in northern Italy. The second is an anthology of my 1970s song lyrics. I have also just started an historical fiction novel about the inner workings of the music industry entitled, Hey, Mr. Publisher. These are diverse subjects, to be sure!

Very diverse! It sounds as if you have a little bit of something for everyone. Who are your favorite authors, the ones you read when you should be doing something else? Why do they appeal to you?

I have always loved T.S. Eliot, Thomas Hardy, Mark Twain and Homer. They get to the point and waste very little ink while forcing the reader into their worlds. As a child I read a whole lot of poetry. I think Poe, Coleridge and Eliot taught me the rhythm and meter that I have used successfully in all of my writing, from music to nonfiction. As a child I was introduced to obscure and formidable classics such as Homer and Chaucer. What I took away from reading these was that I’d better learn to be a really terrific writer just to get by.

A few of my own favorites in there. How long have you been writing?

I have been a professional (paid) writer for over 50 years. I started writing poetry as a child and received my first check at thirteen. I have successful experience in poetry, drama, fiction, non-fiction, and music. Additionally, I have written biographies, human interest stories and articles for magazines and periodicals. I currently write in English, Italian and German.

Your first check at thirteen? That’s impressive, as is the fact that you write in so many different genres and forms. Who or what has been the biggest influence in your writing career and why?

My family has been the biggest influence because of their support and encouragement. Writers need a bit of applause now and then and I have been fortunate to receive that from my parents and my wife. As far as song writing is concerned, I would have to mention both Gordon Lightfoot and Johnny Rivers as both influenced my lyric and composition styles.

Oh, yes, every writer needs a bit of applause in their world and family is often the best source of encouragement—at least that I’ve found. Tell us a little bit about where you live.

Currently, my wife and I live both in Etowah, North Carolina and Tret, Italy. We have been residents of Italy for eleven years and honorary southerners for only three years. We find both locations fascinating with loads of great people. I have been retired for ten years and I do a lot of volunteer work both here and in Italy. Some examples include cemetery restoration and teaching genealogy, English, Italian and German. Prior to retiring, I worked as a teacher, music producer and petroleum consultant in California and Oregon.

Honorary southerners, I like that. You sure do stay busy and I’m sure Etowah is delighted to have you and your wife in their midst. Where do you find inspiration for your writing?

I often find inspiration in the past, perhaps from an old photograph, an old piece of music or simply wondering where someone else’s life has taken them. Also, certain musical chords (E minor, A minor 7, etc.) often propel me into a writing theme or mood. Travelling the world and learning foreign cultures has also inspired much of my recent work. Ideas for my writing have even come from obituaries.

I’m with you on the old photographs and obituaries, both of those have played an important part in my writing. Traveling also, but only within the confines of our state—there’s that fear of flying thing again! What are major themes or motifs in your work? Do your readers ever surprise you by seeing something else in your stories than you think you wrote?

My major themes almost always involve appreciation for the past, acceptance, and optimism for tomorrow. I also like the occasional epiphany. I am a realist who doesn’t see the point in complaining about yesterday. The reason behind raw emotions is a recurring motif as well. My readers don’t normally find anything in my work that was not specifically intended.

Again, I’m with you on the appreciation for the past and optimism for tomorrow. I used to hate anything to do with history but since my sister and I started writing about our great aunt’s life, I’m hooked. During our research, I’ve often been amazed at the hardships they faced and their faith that they can accomplish anything. How many hours a day do you write, where, and are there any specific circumstances that help or hurt your process?

I am very sporadic. Sometimes, I will write for ten hours or more without a break. Sometimes, I don’t write for months. I write, on average, two hours a day. However, I vary my writing time and balance my writing with the rest of my life. I write at home and while travelling. The surroundings often help rather than hinder my writing. Quiet reflective moments are best. However, I once wrote a song with a complete score while eating lunch. Basically, I write when I have something to say that I feel is important.

It’s nice to hear another writer say their writing is sporadic. I never have been an “every day” writer and often wonder if it’s a curse or a blessing that I can’t seem to force myself to sit down every day at the computer and pound out a certain amount of words. But I dearly love those times when I can’t force myself to quit! What are your thoughts on the standard writing advice, “write what you know?”

You’re talking to a believer! I write only what I know and not what I might like to know. Since my motivation for writing is to share, I can only share what I know. I call it the “Colonel Sanders” way of writing; don’t try to be all things to all people and do it right.

I’ve never heard it referred to as a “Colonel Sanders” way of writing, but it sure does fit! Any family influences? Memoirs in the making?

I come from a creative, competitive family. My brother is a well known poet, my sister is a writer and my father was a concert violinist. My mother supported her entire family’s creative endeavors and was the most widely read person I’ve known. Our home always encouraged reading and the value of creativity. I have completed two memoirs of sorts: The Blackest of Canyons and Three A.M., the latter being a song lyric anthology with complete histories of 81 song lyrics.

Wow, there’s that family influence again. How wonderful for you to have such a supportive and creative family. Have you bought an e-reader? What is your overall impression of electronic publishing?

My wife and I have e-readers. I am a recent convert to electronic publishing and proud that I was able to overcome close to a half century of “old school” thinking as a writer. The internet and e-readers have broadened my audience to include people who live all over the world. I certainly could not have had this opportunity years ago with just my typewriter and local publishing house.

Thank you for joining us today, Allen. I’ve enjoyed getting to know you a little better—even though we’re in a writers’ group together, the time for socializing isn’t always there. I hope you’ll come back and visit us often on the blog.

For more information on Allen and his books, visit his Amazon Author Page, or find him at http://allenrizzi.wordpress.com or on Linkedin.

 

 

Turning Tradition on Its Head By Tammy Kaehler

In the traditional concept of the nuclear family—certainly in the 1950s sitcom version—the husband goes off to his job in a suit and tie, and the wife stays at home (usually with the kids), keeping the house clean and the meals cooked. Traditions of the 2000s and 2010s have evolved quite a bit from that picture, but no matter who brings home the bacon, it’s generally still true that the woman in a relationship cooks and cleans while the man mows the lawn and watches sports.

Yeah, not so much in my house.

Sure, I do all the shopping and most of the cleaning (since I apparently have a lower tolerance for dust and dirt). And my husband does the yardwork and takes out the trash. But that’s about where our traditional roles fall apart.

I’m the one who goes off to a day job and comes home cranky, needing to be soothed, ready for a cool drink and a quiet space. My husband is more of a nester—home all day, doing more of the cooking, tidying, and maintenance. He’s the one who’s waiting, eager for someone to talk to when I return from the day at work or emerge from my office after an evening or weekend of writing fiction.

Mind you, my husband isn’t sitting around watching soap operas (do they even exist anymore?). He does part-time consulting work in two different careers, with a little real estate sales on the side. He has periods of being very busy and working late into the night—as well as periods of not much activity, which means more free time for fun stuff, like playing music, taking a language class, or keeping up with friends (I haven’t done that in months).

But the biggest difference between us is when it comes to sports. You see, in our relationship, I’m the one in front of the television on a weekend day, watching a car race. He’s the one spending the day working in the yard. He’s the one asking me, with a fair amount of disgust in his voice, “Are you really going to sit there all day?” I’m the one nodding, making shooing motions with my hands.

He doesn’t like sports at all, and I write car racing mysteries. I don’t just like watching racing, I have to watch (some of) it. It’s research (wink, wink). He usually rolls his eyes at that point and leaves the room.

So it’s clear that neither of us fits traditional or stereotypical roles of “husband” or “wife.” Frankly, we’re both more “husband.” I think that means we need a wife.

What about the rest of you, are you living traditional roles or turning them on their head like my husband and I are? Any other couples out there who also need a wife? Anyone I can hire?

Website www.tammykaehler.com

Multi-genre author Colleen Kelly Mellor Answers the Dames’ Dozen

Today, the Dames are pleased to present multi-genre author Colleen Kelly Mellor. First, a little bit about Colleen’s books:

                          

Named ‘Cool Gifts for Kids’ by the biggest international truckers’ association, OOIDA, in “Landline” magazine, Grandpa and the Truck: Tales (for Kids by a Long-Haul Trucker, Books 1 and 2 track the real-life adventures of a big rig driver who traveled America’s highways for 30 years. In the process, he went through every state but one. Each book is comprised of two stories, set in different states. In addition, there’s trucker lingo, maps, and question pages to accompany text. Books 1 and 2 are currently available at their website, http://www.grandpaandthetruck.com, or at Amazon.com.

“We teach geography…and a whole lot more.”

Welcome, Colleen. Anything else you want to add?

Grandpa and the Truck books are Tales (for Kids) by a Long-Haul Trucker. Books 1 and 2, were just published this past summer and fall. We were selected by the biggest international truckers association, OOIDA, as “Cool Gifts for Kids” in their “Landline” magazine. In addition, WomenInTrucking (WIT) endorses us, too.

As a teacher, I can tell you these sound like books I’d love to have in my classroom. From the WNC Writers’ Guild meetings, I know you’re also working on an adult book that’s close to your heart, Patient Witness. Tell us about that.

I took a bit of a break after a punishing round producing those books and I’m working on Patient Witness, story of my lifetime interaction with medical industry.

I’ve heard a bit of the back story in our meetings and I’m looking forward to reading it when it’s finished. How long have you been writing?

Seems forever, but it really took off 33 years ago when my second husband was battling      cancer that went the route lung…bone…brain. If Nero fiddled while Rome burned, I wrote till the wee hours of morning to stave off insanity.  Don’t know if it worked.

I’ve met a lot of authors who tell me it was a personal crisis that got them started writing, too. That’s what happened with me and I like to think it helped keep me sane—although at times I think it might be driving me in the other direction! Are there any major themes or motifs in your work? Do your readers ever surprise you by seeing something else in your stories than you think you wrote?

I’ve had many crises in life, and I needed to be my own champion, hence in my blog (at www.biddybytes.com), I encourage others to persevere, though it can look darkest at the moment. By 42, I had divorced one highly-abusive man and buried two more husbands. Life was extremely difficult. I raised two daughters ten years apart in age, myself, while teaching. I did that career for 30 years. I’m a breast cancer survivor of 11 years who’s been diagnosed with MS (it’s not awful). Our Grandpa and the Truck books came out of despair, also:  My husband, the quintessential trucker (named one of Atlas Van Lines’s Elite Fleet of Drivers) was hit on a mountain road, in Weaverville, by a 12-year-old girl driving her uncle’s truck. He “died” at the hospital, was brought back via paddles, but the damage was done. We’ve been coming back from that, ever since. I write real-life stories that grew out of despair.

I didn’t know you had MS. How did I miss that? As Joan Rivers says, “we need to talk!” I was diagnosed almost ten years ago and as you say, it isn’t awful and since it’s what got me started writing, I’m even thankful for it at times. Enough about me, who are your favorite authors, the ones you read when you should be doing something else? Why do they appeal to you?

This one’s easy—Mark Twain for his honesty in portrayal of the humanness of people…their peccadilloes…their flaws. But he did it in a loving manner. I also like Charles Dickens but I am ever amazed that people flocked to weekly newspapers, in England, to get the latest segment of his Great Expectations, etc. That’d never happen today.  People won’t invest in the way one needs to do to read Dickens. As for keeping current, I read Huffington Post, CNN, Providence Journal on line…

I love Dickens too, but rarely read him anymore because it is an investment. I do, however, take the time to read his “A Christmas Carol” every year at Christmas. So, Dickens and Twain, how about personally, who or what has been the biggest influence in your writing career and why?

I once sent a story to National Geographic Traveler editor, Keith Bellow, who told me to call him.  He also said “You’ve got talent (but I’m not going to use this piece.)” I was crushed, sent him a couple of other things and never heard back.  Then I reasoned, “I’m never going to be going to these posh places NG focuses on, so ‘Forget it.’” I had to be real:  I was single Mom raising two daughters alone, a teacher with no extra money. So, I deep-sixed my drive for publication there but kept his advice, front and center, to keep me believing in myself.  My other biggest influence was the major editor of our state newspaper, Carol Young. She advised me to keep going, even if the paper couldn’t hire me at the time. They wanted me as free-lancer. I did this for years.

What a wonderful story of perseverance! Where do you find inspiration for your writing?

Nature is a major source of inspiration.  I get choked up seeing practically anything that’s naturally gorgeous. Husband and I bike for many miles, on excursions, and this nourishes my soul….I am refreshed and can go back to writing, energized and pumped. I also get tremendous motivation from observing people.

Nature pretty much does it for me every time. What is a typical writing day like for you?

I get up at 7:00AM and work steadily till 12:00 noon—sometimes beyond. But then I quit and do other things…

Wow, wish I had your dedication. I’m ashamed to admit I’ve never been able to get myself on a schedule and stick with it! Tell us a little bit about where you live.

Two states…Rhode Island I for 7 months of the year and Western North Carolina—Weaverville—for another 5 months.  We have the best of both worlds—the ocean and the mountains.

I love the mountains and ocean and find them both inspirational settings but I prefer the mountains—which probably comes from the fact I was born and raised in East Tennessee. When you’re writing, who’s in control, you or the characters?

Well, if you’re talking about our trucker books, the character driving the big rig better be in control…I guess my characters are always in control because they’re always talking through me…I am the medium.

The medium…I never thought of it quite that way before but I like it. Don’t be surprised if you hear me refer to it that way in future meetings. What do you consider the single most satisfying aspect of being a writer?

Connections with others…the fact my words have made a difference in another’s lives. The thrill about writing our trucker stories for kids?  I can’t say how many women have written to me to tell me “Thanks” for putting these stories out there.  They want the thread of continuity…they now have a vehicle (pun intended) to tell their little ones what their Dad, Mom, or grandparent did for a living, when they drove the big rigs across this country.  No one’s done this before my husband and me, a fact we find astounding, for who’s a big rig driver’s best fan club?  Little kids. But being a 30-year teacher, I combine lots of factual material, along with the adventures, so children learn as they ride along with Grandpa (he’s a young trucker in these stories.)

Great answer, Colleen. One last question, what’s your attitude toward the standard advice: write what you know?

Our Grandpa and the Truck books are all about that…Children ride along with Grandpa (when he was a young trucker) seeing the wonders of our country. He drove through all 49 states (kids will learn which one he couldn’t go through); they’ll note topographical changes; maps are provided. Since I’m a teacher, I provide Question pages as well, to guide the journey.  But the stories are exciting, from a 5-car pileup that occurred on a coastal California highway in the fog, to a Category 5 hurricane Camille that ripped the roof off this trucker’s motel, a romp one night when Grandpa’s trucker buddy went for fuel and came back with a pack of bloodhounds nipping at his heels. “Girl Truckers’ take center stage in story 2 of Book 2, proving all people should do what they wish, for careers. Our children’s books are offered at www.grandpaandthetruck.com.

In my other works, I write of difficult things that I overcame, with a message that others can, too. “Encouragement in a Difficult World:  Biddy Bytes Blog” at www.biddybytes.com is all about that.

My latest blog, Patient Witness (at www.colleenkellymellor.com) will showcase my eventual book (by the same name and to be released this year,) that will document my lifetime experiences, with the medical industry.  It will encourage others to become their own advocates in crises. But it has, as its kernel, that tragic event when my husband was struck on that mountain road, just outside of Asheville, three years ago. In weeks following the crisis, I exploded at my husband’s surgeon, for I’d determined I’d no longer put up with his dismissive, arrogant remarks. My book will invite dialogue between hospitals/doctors and the patients/families they serve.

Here’s a link to our reviews on Amazon for the Grandpa and the Truck books (scroll down for Book 1 and Book 2): http://www.amazon.com/Grandpa-Truck-Book-One-Long-Haul/product-reviews/0985677007/ref=pr_all_summary_cm_cr_acr_txt?ie=UTF8&showViewpoints=1

But please note—If you buy from us, at our website, we can personalize for the child and sign as author.  Same price, too, as Amazon, because we don’t charge for shipping. www.grandpaandthetruck.com and please stay tuned for Patient Witness…

I definitely will! Thanks so much for being here today, Colleen, and thanks for including the links to your sites so our readers can find out more about you.

IDEAS – WHERE DO THEY COME FROM? By Dianne Harman

I’m always amazed when people tell me they have a hard time coming up with ideas for books. They’re everywhere, from the time we get up in the morning until we go to bed.

Dianne Harman Author

For instance, I went out in the yard this morning to water the plants. It’s spring and everything’s in bloom or budding. I looked at the roses. How often has a rose been the springboard of a romance? What about the big bee that’s buzzing around the wisteria blossoms? How does it know when the wisteria will bloom? Where does it go when the blooms fade? Children’s book? Possibly. “Follow the Bee.”

The milkweed is ready to host the wannabe monarch butterflies. I’ve pretty much decided that our garden is their last stop on their way to Mexico. From what I’ve read, it takes five generations to get to Mexico, beginning in the northern states. Well, what about the families who host these five generations of butterflies? What effect does watching the caterpillar turn into a chrysalis and then a monarch have on a family or an individual? You could even couch it in terms of a miracle. Maybe somebody rediscovers their faith or decides to become a lepidopterist. The possibilities are endless.

And what about the young mother holding an infant with another toddler in her grocery basket in which the only items are two cases of beer. Who did she buy it for? Herself or someone waiting at home? It’s a far different thing to buy two cases of beer on a Saturday afternoon, but at 8:30 a.m. on a weekday? A lot could be written about how she got to that moment.

Driving down the street and seeing the attractive woman jogging. Seeing her later that afternoon, once again jogging. Why twice a day? Running from something or to something? Maybe she’s meeting someone at the park or maybe even a tryst in a motor home on a side street. Maybe her home life is so bad that she has to get out of the house as much as possible. Does she have children? Endless possibilities for stories in that job.

Blue Coyote Motel by Dianne Harman

I began writing Blue Coyote Motel because it was 106 degree in Palm Springs, California when we were there for a wedding. The air-conditioning was wonderful. I remember turning to my husband and saying, “Wouldn’t it be interesting if someone put a ‘feel good drug’ in the air-conditioning and everyone felt good all the time?” And so the novel that went on to be a quarter finalist in Amazon’s Breakthrough Novel Award contest and Goodreads Psychological Thriller for April was born. Tea Party Teddy, due out momentarily, was born when I sat next to a bigoted, narrow-minded politician two nights in a row at dinners in Sacramento, where my husband was a California State Senator. Wouldn’t it be interesting if his wife had an affair with an Hispanic man? And so it goes… Ideas, they’re everywhere!

Links: Twitter: @DianneDHarman  Facebook  Goodreads  Amazon  Email: Dianne@dianneharman.com  Smashwords

 

 

 

Review of Cleo’s Oak by Pearle Bishop

After 16-year-old Willow falls and hits her head, she begins to channel Cleopatra Lamb, a woman born during the mid 1800s. Cleo insists Willow relay her story, and although reluctant to do so, Willow spends her summer writing the story of Cleo, whose father drifted from place to place after her mother’s death to ensure that Cleo’s grandparents would not claim her. Cleo idolized her father and the happiest time of her life was when he began work on the Stuart farm when she was 9 years old. There, Cleo was accepted as part of the Stuart family and attended school and had a normal life until her father left to go to work in Mississippi but was killed in an accident shortly thereafter. Cleo remained with the Stewarts and had a hard time dealing with her father’s death but eventually overcame her grief and we follow her journey as she becomes a midwife and marries and has her own child. But Cleo’s life is not an easy one and is filled with pain and hardship.

This is an interesting look into the life of a woman who is strong and independent, especially for her time. The concept of channeling is a fascinating one and brings a fresh perspective to the literary world.

Cleo’s Oak by Pearle Munn Bishop FREE 1st chapter

Cleo’s Oak, novel by Pearle Munn Bishop

Cleo, a psychic midwife from the 1800s channels her life story through Willow, an egotistical, contemporary sixteen-year-old girl.
x Does a mystical Celtic spirit live in Cleo’s oak?
x Are there really magic circles?
x Can a butterfly lead you out of deep despair?
x Can the dead tell their story through channelers?
Cleo’s Oak contains answers to all of these questions plus sex, birth, death, marriage, war, religion, adultery and perhaps murder.
Everyone that ever had a grandmother should read this book. You will agree that across time, human values have not changed.
—Pearle Munn Bishop

Prologue

I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. I could write I hate it five hundred times and I would still hate it.
Cleo has forced me to spend my whole sixteenth summer telling her story. If I had wanted to tell a story it would be about myself. I am, first of all, beautiful. Everyone says so and I know it is true. I look like a young edition of the models you see on television and in magazines. I am five feet ten inches tall, weigh one hundred and twenty pounds. I have thick hair and long legs. My background is German-Lutheran, but my family on my mother’s side has been American for at least six generations. I have had everything money and prestige can give a girl in sixteen years—private schools, tutors, dance, music, tennis, golf, and skiing. Maybe I am vain but I have lots of friends and I was happy until one day everything changed.
While playing Frisbee with my younger brother, I fell and hit the back of my head on a rock. The blow knocked me unconscious for less than a minute. My mother was frantic. Doctor Johnson told her I seemed to just have a lump on the back of my head, for her to watch me for nausea, slurred speech, unresponsiveness, and for me to get some rest. Sleep came easy. My dreams were about people, mostly women in old-fashioned clothes. My mother must have called everyone she knew. Although I was at home, I received flowers from ten people and cards and email from people I hardly knew.
One thing I have always done is to write thank you notes as quickly as possible. When I started to write my first note, the words were not mine. They were about canning peaches, back porches, cows, pigs, then something about playing baseball. This was the beginning of the story you are reading. I had become a channeler for Cleo. My sixteenth summer was spent at my computer. I pray that Cleo is the only spirit that will use me to tell her story. I am not a part of her story—or perhaps I am.
Willow

Cleo’s Oak   Chapter 1: To Willow

Willow, I am Cleo. I want you to write my story.
My father Alexander Lamb came to America in the year 1844 at age sixteen working his way across the Atlantic on a sailing ship. His Scottish family was large and poor. His mother had second sight and predicted great things for the new country, America, although she never told Alexander if his future was revealed to her. In New York, Alexander found other people from the Isle of Bute and got a job with the city, building roads. He was restless. For a while he helped build sailing ships, then went to work in stables caring for horses.
A local policeman’s daughter, Rosa MacRay, kept her horse in this stable. My mother’s father was a hard-boiled, ambitious, angry Irishman that did not want his only daughter to become involved with a ne’er-do-well Scott who couldn’t hold a job and worked at a horse stable. Somehow, the young lovers found a way to be together. Sometimes they met on a rooftop, and as my father told me later, “they were married in the sight of God,” on a rooftop. My mother convinced friends to help them elope, and he married Rosa MacRay, the policeman’s daughter. I was born seven and a half months after the marriage. My mother must have been a romantic to name me Cleopatra. I have no memory of that period, of course, only what my father told me later. When I was about two years old, my mother died in childbirth. The stillborn baby boy was buried with her. After my mother’s death, my grandparents wanted to take me to raise. My father was afraid if he refused, he would wind up dead. Since my grandfather was a New York policeman, my father was sure he could find a way to kill him and suffer no repercussions.

Then started our period of wandering. My father’s feet were made for leaving, but he never left me but once. I was always a big, big part of who he was. He was a large, quiet, handsome man, a nice shy smile and he was always loving and protecting me. He was a listener—spoke only when he had something important to say. He read stories to me until I learned to read. Then I read to him. We sat for hours. I would sit on his lap or at his feet, wherever the light was better. He would hug me, touch my face or arms, and play with my hair. His jobs were varied. Sometimes we would live in town, sometimes in the country, nice houses or shacks. Early during the time my father was working, I would stay with different families. When he was off work, we were together. I went to so many different schools I lost count.
At my first school on the first school day I talked a lot. No one, not even father, had ever told me to shut up. Other children were talking as much as I. We got through one day, then the teacher took charge. Rule one, stay in your seat. Rule two, talk only when asked to by the teacher. Rule three, if you must speak, hold up your right hand. She had to teach most of us which was our right hand and what the other one was called. On the playground at recess, the teacher came over to the swing I was using, caught the rope, took hold of my shoulders with both hands, looked me straight in the eyes and said, “You are a challenge.”
Challenge was a new word for me. I quit talking for the rest of the day. Later, Father listened to my stories of the day, smiled and said very little until I got to the word, “challenge.”
Then he told me about his childhood. He had been sent to a Catholic boarding school before he was two, had become a ward of the Church and cared for in a group of other children by two Greek nuns.His mother requested he be given lessons in swimming. If she gave the Priest a reason, my father was never told. He wondered if she had known he would cross the Atlantic as a sailor. He became a strong swimmer and loved the water. The Priest taught him English and Latin. The sisters taught him Greek. He also took classes in Hebrew, theology, rhetoric, composition, mathematics, public speaking, chemistry, astronomy, philosophy, history and law. He retained most everything he was taught. The whole school considered him a “challenge,” he was such a good student. When father was sixteen, the nuns went back to Greece and he knew he did not want to become a priest. The Father gave him new clothes and a small amount of money. His mother gave him a scarf she had woven from wool she had gathered on the farm where they lived. She also gave him a small green stone. He visited his family, said good-bye and went to sea. Until then, I had not realized the medical books I was taught to read were Latin and the beautiful book about the Greek Gods was Greek. The Bible was English. I made up my mind to always be a “challenge.”

Butterfly influence in novel by Pearle Munn Bishop, “Cleo’s Oak”

Father and I fished, swam and rode horses together. We ran instead of walked. We had runs down miles and miles of country roads. He loved me; I could not wait to spend time with him. As I became older I hung around his place of work. I rode horses, learned to care for them, drove the buggies, whatever I could do to be close to him. We always had a good horse and wagon. Talk—my mouth ran all my waking hours. If no one was around, I talked to the trees. “The moss on your north side is really thick this year. Does that mean a cold winter is coming?” The beauty of talking to the trees is they talk back. This I would do with rocks, chicks, people, dolls—whatever or whoever was around. Not only would I talk, I would listen. I knew secrets, some I was told, some I just knew. Sometimes knowing made me happy. Other times I would rather not know.
When I was about six, I told a woman I hardly knew that her three-year-old son would be washed away in the river and when his body was found, it would be eaten away by fish and turtles. This I had seen in a vision. I had not only seen it, I heard it, I smelled it—the water in the river was cold. What an uproar that caused. When three weeks later what I had told the mother came true, even I was frightened. How did I know this? Were all the things that filtered through my brain true? That ship wreck I “saw,” did it really happen? I knew that old lady Pridgen was going to die on Sunday, but most anyone else could figure that out. Maybe not see her as I did in her death bed and hear her last gasp of air, but surely everybody knew her time was near. After the death of the three-year-old boy, some people wanted me to tell them “things.” Other people would cross the road and hide when I was near. No one would look me in the eye.
Soon after that, one Friday, Father said it was time to move on. We packed our covered wagon with food, clothes, pots, pans, books, saddles and hay. Sometimes when we moved the people would give us a party. Not this time. The only gift I received was an all-black, five-week-old kitten. The five-year-old brother of the boy that drowned met our wagon about two miles down the road. Without a word, he handed her to me. I took her.No one spoke. I did not learn if she was a gift from the mother or the boy. I named her Friday. From then on, Friday and I seemed attached to each other. I had heard tales of witches and black cats but I knew I was not a witch. Witches were old crones with big noses, warts and hunched backs. They boiled things in pots. The things I boiled in pots were good to eat or maybe the kettle would hold our clothes boiled to get clean.

Available on Kindle   http://dld.bz/CleosOakKindle  

Available in Paperback on Amazon http://dld.bz/CleosOakPaperback

“The Dryad Quartet”: Creating a Fresh Look for a Contemporary Fantasy Series – by Joni Lynn

by Joni Lynn of Blue Harvest Creative

(presented by Dame Betty Dravis)

When Katie Jennings approached us about redesigning her bestselling series, The Dryad Quartet, we were beyond thrilled!

The Dryad Quartet is a contemporary fantasy series revolving around the fictional land of Euphora, where beings inspired by Greek mythology exist to preserve the balance of nature and human life, and to protect the living from the evil residing in the Underworld. Take a journey into a world where Mother Earth and Father Sky exist, secretly hidden from human awareness, and yet crucial to the creation and stability of our world. They are joined by those who control the elements, the Dryads, as well as the Fates, Muses, and Furies, all of whom play an integral role in preserving Earth and guarding those who inhabit it. 

We wanted to create something spectacular with the design of each book in the series. A design that would complement the beautifully written words of each story. We wanted to  fully immerse the reader into the book and mesh the words with the design to let the reader not only experience the joy of reading, but to also stimulate the senses with stunning graphics and typography for a complete reading experience. We wanted to create a complete work of art.

Katie Jennings creates all of her beautiful covers. She asked us to collaborate with her on the cover redesigns. We helped refine a few areas and with our suggestions, she created even more visually-stunning creations. And, most importantly, we helped her establish an author brand with front and back covers designed for marketability. Her new back covers also contain her publishing imprint, Sapphire Royale Publishing. The new designs for both front and back are styled to match the series

Old Dryad Front Covers

New Dryad Front Covers

Old Dryad Back Covers

New Dryad Back Covers

The next task was to create visually stunning and exciting interiors for each book. The Dryad Quartet consists of books that each use a different element in each story. We decided to use these elements to create the design and graphics for each book since they are such an integral part of the series.  A border strip was designed to incorporate the elemental feel of “movement” as well as to harmonize with each element.

The elements used in each book are:

 Air – Breath Of Air

Fire – Firefight In Darkness

Earth- A Life Earthbound

Water – Of Water And Madness

We created vector images to represent each element for each book. They were used for both the chapter heading as well as the paragraph separators. From left to right they are: air, fire, earth and water.

From left to right is the prologue page for each book:  Breath Of Air, Firefight In Darkness, A Life Earthbound and Of Water And Madness.

Each book interior was created using a combination of the fonts used on each front cover for headers as well as the chapter title. Instead of using a drop cap to begin each chapter, we took the first three words of each line and used a corresponding font from each front cover. Finally, we used Adobe Caslon Pro as the main interior font for each book in the series. We chose this because it is a softer font and also complemented all of the other design elements. As you can see, the beautiful graphics and design elements all complement each other yet each book has its own identity in the series.

Large Image for Firefight in Darkness Prologue Page

We also redesigned the eBooks and created eBooks that incorporated all of the same design elements as the print book so that readers would have the same reading enjoyment and experience.

And there you have it! The completely redesigned Dryad Quartet series. Immerse yourself in the fantasy…of words…and of design.

Katie Jennings is the bestselling author of the Dryad Quartet series and The Vasser Legacy series.

For more information on the author and her books, please visit Katie at her Amazon Central Author page: http://www.amazon.com/Katie-Jennings/e/B007SYJ37C/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1358371749&sr=8-2-ent

You can also visit her website: http://www.katieajennings.com/

For more about Blue Harvest Creative, check our website: http://blueharvestcreative.wordpress.com/

Thanks, Dames, for having me as your guest today. You five Dames are highly respected writers with true gifts, and your site is very popular. My privilege to speak to your fans and friends. – Joni Lynn