Dear Reader

Dear Reader Column - June 25, 2024

Dear Reader,

Please welcome to the book club New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Shelley Shepard Gray. She published over a hundred books with over two million books in print, and translated into more than a dozen languages.  Shelley currently lives in northern Ohio, walks her dogs, bakes too much and writes full time.

Her new book is A is for Amish the launch of a new series. In this first installment, a brother and sister in their twenties contemplate leaving their very modern lives for a simpler one. They decide to move in with their Amish grandparents for a year, expecting to either become Amish or hurry home to their regular lives. What they don't expect, is to learn a bit about themselves, love, and faith.

Enter Shelly's drawing for a chance to win one of five copies of A is for Amish. Email: [email protected]

7:30 A.M.

For the last year, for 15 months to be exact, I've been out walking at 7:30 in the morning. This is kind of a big deal for me. Not because it's early-I know it's not. But because about ten years ago, when my husband and I became empty nesters, I decided that my mornings would involve a fluffy robe, a hot cup of coffee, and the couch. My daughter had been on the swim team for years. That meant I had gotten up with her at 4:30 so she could practice before school. Sitting around in pajamas and a robe had been a long-awaited luxury.

And then, a little over a year ago, we adopted Sophie. Sophie is a very blonde, very sweet dog. We *think* she's half-beagle and half-lab. My husband and I took our little dachshund to a parking lot a couple of towns over to meet some dogs from a nearby shelter. We'd recently lost my beloved beagle Eddie and I was desperate for a doggy companion again. Anyway, we drove to the site, fully intending to get ‘Alvin', a goofy, adorable one year old beagle mix. And then I saw Sophie.

Sophie was three and she'd recently had surgery on both of her back legs. She'd been born with a deformity and her original owner had never fixed them. A rescue organization paid to get her legs fixed.

When we saw Sophie, she was only a couple of weeks post-surgery. Sophie had no fur on the whole backside of her body, awful scars on her knees, and was as timid as you might imagine. She also has the sweetest brown eyes and I knew that we had to have her.

By the time we lived with Sophie one week, I knew a couple of things for sure. I already loved this dog--and she had her own way of doing things. She liked to put herself to bed at 9:00 at night. She also didn't want to sleep in our bedroom, she liked to be by herself in the laundry room. But most of all, she loved to go on a walk at 7:30 in the morning. Rain or shine. And, because we live in northern Ohio, that also meant in the snow. Or when it was below zero.

We've adopted a lot of dogs. I love giving them homes. But with each adoptee, I've learned that each one comes with its own set of baggage. They might be scared of one thing or love something unusual. 

I've learned that it's best to adjust to these quirks instead of trying to change them. I've always figured these dogs have already had to adjust to enough. But even after all of those adjustments and all the dogs we've had (Sophie is #6), we've never had an animal who loved a schedule more than me. Until Sophie. I guess it was time.

That's why, this morning, when my alarm went off at 7, I rolled out of bed, bypassed my robe, and turned on the coffee maker. I put on a pair of sweats, a pair of tennis shoes and, at 7:20, I opened the laundry room door. There was Sophie, sitting quietly with an expectant look on her face. "Ready to walk?" I asked. Her answer was to stand up, stretch, and walk to the front door. As I put on her leash, I couldn't help but notice that her fur is silky and soft. She walks just fine now and with no pain. And as we start on our way, a leash in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other, I decided that I wasn't missing my lazy mornings much at all. Over the past year, this morning walk had become something I looked forward to.

Like my four year old dog Sophie, I had adapted to life once again.

-- Shelley Shepard Gray

Enter the drawing for a chance to win one of five copies of A is for Amish. Email: [email protected]

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected] 

Dear Reader Column - June 18, 2024

Dear Reader,

Please welcome today's guest author, Bob Hostetler. He is an award-winning writer whose more than fifty books include the new children's book, I Dream a Dream for You. He lives in Nevada.

With its sweet bedtime rhymes, I Dream a Dream for You is a charming read-aloud bedtime book for toddlers. A family of red pandas make their home in the forest. When it's time for bed, Mom and Dad tuck in their three kiddos, and as they all drift to sleep, dreams come to life through the vibrant pictures and story.

Reach out to Bob for a chance to win one of five copies of I Dream a Dream for You. Email: [email protected]

The Beauty of (Physical) Books

Ebooks are great. I read, on average, twenty-five or more ebooks every year. They're convenient, especially when traveling. They don't take up precious shelf space. They don't have to be dusted.

I don't feel guilty when I read an ebook, but I purposefully choose physical books for the majority of my reading, for numerous reasons. Reading a physical book provides a more sensory experience. Touch, smell, weight, all contribute to the pleasure. Studies suggest that those who read a physical book recall and retain the material better. Some find that reading a physical book causes less eye strain and/or headaches than reading from a screen.

But here's something I've realized only recently, and it relates to the legacy I want to leave my kids and grandkids. We all know that children imitate their older family members--parents, especially, but also grandparents, aunts and uncles, and older siblings. They talk like them, walk like them, play "mommy and daddy," "mowing the lawn," and "doing the dishes."

However, when you use a tablet or an e-reader, your kids or grandkids can't see you reading. They don't necessarily know you're reading a book. From their perspective, unless they're looking over your shoulder, you may be reading Facebook or playing a game. You might be watching a movie or YouTube video. You could be checking a text or email message.

But when you hold a physical book in your hands, it says something to a child or young person who may--even casually--notice. When your youngsters see you curled up in your favorite chair with an absorbing book, laughing with James Thurber, pondering C. S. Lewis, and crying with Nicholas Sparks, it communicates, "This is something people do." It says, "Books are interesting," "Reading is fun," and "This is a great way to use your time." And reading a physical book to or with a child (or letting children read to you!) is one of the most pleasurable experiences our world has to offer, even (or especially) in the age of ebooks, video games, and the internet.

It may seem like a small thing, and maybe it is. And I have no plans to abandon ebooks, by any means. But children live the values they learn from parents and others. Maybe they will value books and reading more if they're given the opportunity to observe the appeal of a good book in the material world.

-- Bob Hostetler

Reach out to Bob for a chance to win one of five copies of I Dream a Dream for You. Email: [email protected]

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected] 

Dear Reader Column - June 11, 2024

Dear Reader,

A Colorado author and essayist, Patricia Raybon writes daring and exciting novels at the intersection of faith and race, and she's this week's guest author.

Patricia's devotional writing appears in 'Our Daily Bread,' where she's a regular contributor. She also authors the Annalee Spain Mysteries, a "history mystery" series featuring a young Black theologian who solves crime during Colorado's dangerous 1920s Klan years. She has won both the Christy Award and the Christianity Today Book of the Year award for her fiction. A former newspaper journalist and journalism faculty member at the University of Colorado at Boulder, Patricia and her husband, Dan, a retired educator, have two grown daughters.

Patricia's latest book in the Annalee Spain series is Truth Be Told: On a lovely June night in 1924, amateur detective Annalee Spain is mingling bravely at a high-class political fundraiser in the lush backyard garden of famed political fixer, Cooper Coates, one of the wealthiest men in Denver's Black neighborhood of Five Points. When Coates's young daughter discovers a pretty stranger dead in her father's garden shed, Annalee is thrust onto the baffling new case just as she's reeling from another recent discovery-a handwritten letter, found buried in her own garden, that reveals the identity of her mother.

Meet Patricia at: patriciaraybon.com and contact her via: https://www.patriciaraybon.com/contact/

Please welcome back to the book club author Patricia Raybon…

On Staying Planted

They bounce. A little showy perhaps, but never too much. Our lilac bushes, after this winter, sported their bumper harvest with grace–waving at the wind with their fragrant, lovely branches. The flowers were so lush and sweet-smelling they seemed too grand for our humble Colorado backyard.

I grabbed my phone and took a video. Friends and family loved it.

The bigger news, however, wasn't our lilacs' beauty. It was their backstory.

Or, can you say lawn guy? A man with an ax? We'd only known him a year, far less than the 27 years since we'd planted the lilacs--by faith, of course. Lilac plantings are little more than sticks. Five little sticks, in our case. Sad-looking twigs, they offer only straggly roots as promise of the greenery that, at some point, might grow.

Indeed, I'd never grown lilacs. I just fondly recalled them from childhood. Every Denver yard seemed to ripple with lilac clusters. Lilacs adore full sun, and Colorado gets oodles of it. Walking to school with neighborhood pals, I'd tempt fate--and grouchy homeowners--by running across yards with daring friends to plant my face in lilac blossoms, breathing in the luscious scent.

Now a grownup myself, looking to landscape a small yard with my husband, I'd walked into a garden center and saw "lilacs." Yep, those sticks. Dan and I bought five, planting them along our back fence, spaced about three feet apart.

Then we stood back and let them grow. We never fussed. Never fertilized. We pruned only once. But those lilacs thrived. By age 27, they were tall, lush, and showy. Out came my phone. Photos galore. Then came our lawn guy.

Hardworking and earnest, he offered one summer day to trim our lilacs. Sure, I said, leaving him to it. An hour later, I came out back and wilted. Our lilacs were stubs. Five sticks. "What happened!" I cried.

He waved away my worry. "They'll be fine."

They weren't. Three years went by with barely a blossom. Powdery mildew struck. Then one year they perked up. Taller. More blooms. This year they truly shone. And to think I'd considered digging them all up and tossing them out as yard trash.

But they just needed time--to rebound. And for me to trust that God isn't finished with them yet.

The same is true, I suppose, for all of us. Some years may look bare and barren. But stay planted.

A lush harvest of grace and beauty is close at hand.

-- Patricia Raybon

https://www.patriciaraybon.com/contact/

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected] 

Dear Reader Column - June 4, 2024

Dear Reader,

Please welcome today's guest author, Lisa Wingate. 

Lisa is the author of the #1 New York Times bestseller Before We Were Yours, which has sold more than three million copies and been translated into over forty languages worldwide. The co-author, with Judy Christie, of the nonfiction book Before and After, Wingate is an Oklahoma Book Award finalist and a Southern Book Prize winner. She was named a 2023 Distinguished Alumni of Oklahoma State University. Lisa lives with her husband in Texas and Colorado.

Her brand new book is Shelterwood...a sweeping novel inspired by the untold history of women pioneers who fought to protect children, caught in the storm of land barons hungry for power and oil wealth.

Please say "Hello" and welcome Lisa to the book club: [email protected]

 

 

Be sure to enter-to-win the Shelterwood Book Club Gift Box which includes a letter from the author, printed book club kit, bookmark, and custom sticker inspired by the novel. To enter, go to: https://www.emailbookclub.com/firstlook/shelterwood.htmlg

 

 

Years ago, I interviewed a woman who couldn't read for first two-thirds of her life. I met her as the result of a college class that had been mundane for the first seven weeks. On week eight, the instructor whisked in carrying a newspaper article about an elderly World War II veteran who'd been found in a house with no electricity, no running water, no air conditioning, and no heat other than a gas stove. Criminals had broken into the home intending a robbery, but there was nothing to steal.

The instructor told us to write a newspaper piece about someone living on the margins. Then he walked out, leaving fifty college sophomores floundering like fish in a dry lakebed.

Through a few connections, I ended up at a mission shelter interviewing a small, thin woman with sun-pleated skin and silver dreadlocks bound in a multicolored bandana. To me, she looked at least eighty, but she reckoned that she was around sixty-nine. She'd traveled to Florida on a small boat as a child. The adult who was with her--a relative she thought--had not survived the trip. When the boat came ashore, it was met by traffickers who hustled cheap labor for sugar cane farms, where the workers would remain in an endless state of indenture, always in debt for their meals and housing.

This was the childhood of the smiling woman on the stool across from me. She'd escaped the farm as a young adult by sneaking away amid the chaos and smoke when stubble was burned off the fields. Years on the run followed, as she feared being arrested for her unpaid debt.

Eventually, she ended up in a shelter program, where she did odd jobs and through their literacy initiative, learned to read.

She'd been there for several years, working and living at the shelter, by the time I met her. Every day after washing loads of dishes and mopping floors, she'd walk to the subsidized daycare next

door and read to the kids. Her eyes held the most vibrant light as she talked about the importance of those sessions. "When you can't read, all around you there are line pictures," she said. "On street signs. In restaurants. In stores. In books. Everybody else looks at the line pictures, and sees a tree, or a cat, or a sky. You can't understand how that looks like a cat or a tree. The lines make other people hear thunder, or wind, or a voice saying something. But you look at the lines, and you see nothing, hear nothing. The lines don't speak. Then you learn to read, and the lines tell you everything."

To this day, those words remain with me, not only an inspiration but an indelible testament to the power of lines that form words, and words that fill pages, and pages that create stories, and stories that build worlds.

-- Lisa Wingate

Be sure to enter-to-win the Shelterwood Book Club Gift Box which includes a letter from the author, printed book club kit, bookmark, and custom sticker inspired by the novel. To enter, go to: https://www.emailbookclub.com/firstlook/shelterwood.html

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected]