Lovin that Small-Town Vibe

In 30 years of publishing, I've experimented with different styles and varieties of novels. I enjoyed one teen adventure novel and a Young Adult mystery with a paranormal element, as well as other stories for different audiences. Writing them was a fun diversion, but I've found my home in sweet romances set in America's small towns.

What's the charm of the small town? Ask the faithful followers of the Andy Griffith Show or Northern Exposure. We all came to know and love the quirky folk who peopled Mayberry, North Carolina or Cicely, Alaska. The homey, interesting, or romantic plots that carried the series were always supplemented by the eccentric behaviors of poor drunken Otis or paranoid Adam, the antics of Barney Fife, or the flat delivery of Marilyn Whirlwind. We happily returned week after week to these alternate hometowns where we knew everyone and willingly rode along on whatever strange story arc dominated the set that episode. 

Do real-life small towns have the same charm? I suppose it depends on the small town. Over the years, I've lived in a few. During five formative years in my teens, I lived in a town of about 600 poised on the edge of the Navajo Nation. Then, for fourteen months in 2017-18, I lived in a town of about 5,000 in the heart of Dinetah (Navajoland). Those two experiences gave me the background for the Rainbow Rock Romances, a series set in the fictional town of Rainbow Rock, Arizona, poised in the striped hills of the Painted Desert, like those at the top of this column. (See why I called it Rainbow Rock?) 

For the past four decades, I've lived in the Sacramento River Valley in California, right at the edge of the foothills that lead into the Sierra Nevada mountains. Friends were among those burned out of Paradise during the calamitous fires there two years ago, and I used the burned-outcommunities as the basis for creating Destiny, California, the home of the Seasons of Destiny series. 

Farther up the state highway from fictional Destiny lies the equally fictional town of Bedford Falls, California, the setting for my Christmas novel which is set to appear in late October. I have other plans for both Destiny and Bedford Falls and look forward to setting more books in both places.

For me, the small town vibe is the ideal backdrop for a sweet romance and the characters that people the towns are, for the most part, people I enjoy knowing when they hang out with me in my office. I love the fact that readers seem to be enjoying them too. 

If you've read any of the books set in Rainbow Rock, Destiny, or Bedford Falls, please share your experiences in my fictional, always-interesting small towns. Thanks! 

When you're brain-weary ...

What do you do when you're brain-weary? You know the feeling: you're sleeping enough at night; your daily workouts, if you have them at all, aren't enough to wear you out; still, because of the mental work you're trying to do, you feel exhausted, and it isn't even bedtime yet.

I realized I must have hit that brain-weary, unable-to-think-anymore level recently when I found myself watching a TV documentary about the development of kittens. Not that kittens aren't fascinating, but I had a mound of work stacked up, just waiting for me to get to it, and I was watching kittens.


Somewhere between the four-week-old silver tabbies and the seven-week pure-bred Bengals, I got the hint. I could almost hear the TV whispering to me: Susan, your brain has done enough work for the day. You're done. Give up and enjoy the kittens. Feeling guilty about the work that still needed to be done, I kept trying to push myself to get busy again, but when the brain has gone on strike, well, it's kittens for me.

One of our sons, a mildly crazy entrepreneur who will one day be worth multiple millions, simply because he won't take no for an answer, has hit brain-weary regularly of late. When he just about lost it at work one day, his staff suggested he visit his doctor, just to be sure he's okay. The doctor's prescription: an evening of The Simpsons or Laverne and Shirley reruns. He said, "Give your brain a rest. Do something mindless for a while." Yes, The Simpsons or the L&S reruns may be adequately mindless, and maybe even fun, but the kittens are definitely cuter.

Besides, I love cats, but having recently lost the brother-sister pair we had for 14 and 16 years (the calico is my friend, Koi), and not yet feeling ready to watch real cats play in my home again, I get my kitten-fix from a TV documentary. For someone not yet prepared to bring another kitten home, watching them on TV is clearly safer than visiting the local animal shelter, just for a kitten fix.


So what do you do when you're brain-weary? And do you need a doctor's prescription to keep you from feeling guilty when you settle down to let the brain wander aimlessly for a while? I'd love to hear your answers.

Resolved . . .

Every year when January 1 comes around, people everywhere consider whether or not to make resolutions. I used to; I don't anymore.

That doesn't mean I don't have goals and plans, but I consider those a little differently. In my definition, a resolution is something I'm not doing, haven't done lately, and probably will never do, but I resolve to do it anyway because it seems like I probably should. (I've discovered that peer pressure isn't just for kids.)  I hope I've outgrown that behavior.

On the other hand, goals and plans are usually projects I already have in the works which I intend to expand or continue, projects I want to do. For instance, last year I made a goal to write all four books in the new "Seasons of Destiny" series. I met that goal, along with two short novellas, one of which (A Monumental Love, from the Timeless Romance series) has been in publication since last spring. Of the six books I wrote last year, four are now available and a fifth will be out by mid-February. The sixth is part of a contest and won't appear for a while, but its time will come. Goals and plans like these are easy to fulfill because they are already in the works and because I enjoy them.

Once in a great while, I even manage to do one of those tasks I don't particularly want or love to do, but know I should. This past year I managed to exercise more. In the coming year, I hope to do even better, although I admit right up front that exercise is not my favorite pastime. I guess I can call that a resolution . . . do you think?

How about you? Do you make resolutions because you know you "ought to"? Do you see those differently from goals and plans? 

Part of a Sweepstakes

The news this week is the "Sweet and Clean Contemporary Romances" Sweepstakes at BookSweeps.com. BookSweeps is giving away an eReader and 15+ great sweet romances to the winner of their contest, happening now. The bigger news is the deadline: it's been extended.  It was scheduled to end on Jan. 21, but people can now enter through Wednesday, Jan. 29.

This is great news for all readers of books like those in my "Seasons of Destiny" series, which is fortunate because (drum roll, please) Paris in the Springtime, Book #1 in that series, is among the eBooks in the giveaway. Some of my writer friends have books in this sweepstakes as well. This should be a great set of enjoyable novels for anyone who likes the wholesome side of the romance genre. Thanks to the extended deadline, there's still time to sign up.

Interested? Go to https://www.booksweeps.com/giveaway/january-2020/sweet-clean-contemporary-romance. If sweet romance isn't your thing, but you have friends who enjoy these books, please pass this information along. Thanks! 

The Pacific Flyway

California grows rice, about two million metric tons of it each year, and 95% of that is grown in the Sacramento Valley. Those of us who live in the valley become accustomed to the rhythms of the rice season, planting to harvest.ea


We are also firmly in the Pacific Flyway. Between our location and the flooded rice paddies, we are visited by many kinds of water fowl each winnter. December is a great time for swans, gray geese, coots, and a few ducks. We found some of them enjoying our home country this past week.

These birds were feeding in fields near Richvale, California, with the Sutter Buttes in the background. Fun fact: the Buttes constitute the smallest mountain range in the world.

Our avian visitors are always welcome. They'll soon be followed by Snow geese, Ross geese, and varied species of ducks. We're happy to share our valley with them all.


Look for the first three books in the "Seasons of Destiny" series, available for pre-order now. All three are due to be released on January 6. The fourth book will follow later in January. In order, the four are: Paris in the Springtime, Sunny's Summer, Amber in Autumn, and Winter Skye. Hope you enjoy! 

The Nativity

Christmas has passed and I am once again putting things away until next year. That activity means I get to stir up memories of each of the treasures collected over the years. That includes a growing collection of nativity scenes.


Our first acquisition was a small, rather traditional portrayal, complete with an angel who stood on a staired shelf in the stable. We book-end it with another traditional set that shows all the figures in silvery porcelain.

Since then, we've gathered a few others. I've been fascinated by the many ways different artists portrait the story. A few years ago, our church sponsored a Creche Festival. (That's when I learned that a nativity scene is a creche.) People brought their prizes in over a four-day period. The creches were artfully displayed on white tablecloths amid poinsettias and lights. I was astonished by the range of styles and interpretations.

One of the interesting aspects is the way different cultures have appropriated the story to make it their own. In Cochabamba, Bolivia, I found a set portraying the holy family and their visitors as Aymara natives. In Tuba City, Arizona, just inside the edge of Hopi, we found a set that cast each of the well-known characters as members of  Four Corners nations. The rug trader, naturally, is Navajo. Other figures are Hopi or Santa Clara Pueblo and the scene is set inside a typical Hopi pueblo.

Other portrayals are traditional, but in such varied media and design that their differences are more notable than their similarities.










There's the one that includes a light for the star. Another is made in crystal. One of our favorites was a gift from a friend who paints miniatures. My finger is included there for scale. In a craft class, a daughter-in-law created a minimalist portrayal of the Holy Family. We enjoy that, too. We displayed them all this season.

We may find others we like in years to come. We may be honored with gifts from other friends and family. Although it seems we're running out of room, we will always find ways to portray them. They are part of what makes Christmas.







Look for the first three books in the "Seasons of Destiny" series, available for pre-order now. All three are due to be released on January 6. The fourth book will follow later in January. In order, the four are: Paris in the Springtime, Sunny's Summer, Amber in Autumn, and Winter Skye. Hope you enjoy! 

The Perfect Gingerbread House

Thanksgiving in our home is much like the holiday in many other American households. We have the turkey with all the trimmings and invite any of the family who live nearby. This year we had two sons with their combined families who joined us for the day.

Our youngest son, a talented though amateur chef, prepared a "flying pig," his own creation. It began with a turducken (boned chicken inside boned duck inside boned turkey), but then added layers of ham and sausage. He packed different kinds of dressing between the layers of meat. My favorite was the wild rice with sausage, although the fruit stuffing came in a close second. The total  concoction weighed 37 pounds before it went into the oven.

Each of the families added one or more yummy side dishes and everyone brought pies. That gave us a delightful Thanksgiving feast. It also gave us six adults and eight children to enjoy the day. The two eldest grandkids, cousins born two days apart, turned 10 that same week; the baby was 15 months old.

We intended to keep the group through the afternoon, enjoying leftovers and pie into the evening hours. So the challenge: How to keep eight little people entertained through the afternoon, especially considering the weather getting chillier and the darkness coming sooner each evening. That definitely narrowed the chances for outside play. What to do?

We started by having the kiddos decorate the Christmas tree, which we set up the day before. They covered it thoroughly, all the while making sure to keep the breakable and edible ornaments out of the hands of the one- and three-year-olds. Decorating the tree kept everyone busy for the first hour after dinner, but we still had several hours to go. We decided to  build a gingerbread house.

I knew better than to start from scratch. I love gingbread and enjoy making it from a recipe, but with eight assistant cooks in the kitchen? Not a good idea. We planned ahead and bought a kit.

In no time at all, we realized the standard approach of carefully following the lines and decorating according to the design on the package was never going to work. We passed out the parts of the house, one per child, and gave them the freedom to decorate however they liked. We also quickly saw that the frosting that came with the kit wasn't going to do the trick. There wasn't enough and with only one frosting bag to go around, seven little people waited and fussed while one took her (or his) time with the frosting bag.

Our resident chef made some royal icing which he divided into several bags and we passed them around the table. When the candy that came with the kit ran low, I scrounged up some leftovers from Halloween. In the end, every child except the youngest got an opportunity to decorate something.

The resulting house is nothing like the kit's designers intended. Each half of the roof looks quite different from the other. The front wall is nothing like the back wall, and the two side walls are even more different. The tree in the front "yard" is nicely decorated, thanks to one of our five-year-olds, but the gingerbread man who is supposed to reside here is gone. The three-year-old made him so enticing that he ate him on the spot.

Our gingerbread house has become a permanent centerpiece for our dining room table since Thanksgiving Day. It may not be what the designers planned, but we think it's perfect.


Susan is the author of 20 novels. Her newest series explores the four seasons in nearby locales.  Paris in the Springtime and Sunny's Summer are available now. Look for Amber in Autumn and Winter Skye, both coming early in 2020 in e-book and paperback. 

November roses

One of the joys of living in the California Central Valley is the beautiful bounty that grows here. It's among the great blessings I appreciate at this time of year when Americans celebrate Thanksgiving. Traditionally, this celebration came at the end-of-harvest. Where is that more meaningful than in a place like this where almost anything grows and where harvests are rich and plentiful? Where agriculture is the base of the local economy?

I'm also blessed that, while many of my friends in other places are already under snow, I am still enjoying my rose garden, the one planted just outside my office window, the one I can enjoy as I sit here writing. We haven't yet experienced a hard freeze and the roses love the cooler weather that has come with the autumn. They're thriving.

I often have roses from mid-March through early December, and I try to take the time to enjoy them. "Stop and smell the roses" has become such a cliche catch-phrase, but it can be real, too. When unexpected events arise, as events will, my roses can be a place for peaceful reflection, a quiet removal from the chaos to allow me to find my center and refresh.

At this time of year, I'm grateful for so many things. Among my great blessings is the beauty of nature, starting with the rich beauty I can see and enjoy, right outside my office window. 


May you also enjoy a beautiful launch into the holiday season.

Many kinds of thanks

This is the time of year for gratitude. Traditionally, it ended the harvest season and people could feast. Most of us celebrate now by feasting way too much. Still, however we celebrate, we try to remember and count our blessings.

My blessings come in chunks. As a citizen, I'm grateful for a land where I can pursue goals I choose, worship how and where I choose, and daily make choices for myself, my loved ones, my career and future, all based on what I think will be best and serve the most good.

As a wife and mother, I'm grateful for a faithful husband who has stayed by my side for decades. I thank my children for growing up to be wonderful people, all healthy and contributing, and I'm deeply grateful for the beautiful children-in-law they've brought into the family and the amazing grandchildren who've been born to them. My family is right at the top of my blessing list.


As a person who loves my creature comforts, I'm thankful for a warm, safe home, for heat in the winter and air conditioning in the summer, and pleasant surroundings. And I'm grateful for good food, not just at end-of-harvest time, but throughout the year.

Finally, as a writer, I'm thankful for the other wonderful writers around me who support my career, for the family who encourages, and most especially, for you, our readers, who give us a reason to keep writing. Thank you all, and happy Thanksgiving!

A day to remember

As I write this post, on Friday, Nov. 8, I'm doing a great deal of remembering. First, I'm thinking of my dad.

Anthen Hugh Hubbard was born on November 8, 1922. If he were still with us today, he'd be 97 years old. I feel blessed that I had him until seven years ago. My children, all adults now, remember him as one of the kindest, best people they ever knew. To me, he was Dad. His unconditional love carried me through all kinds of childhood and teenage crises, and strengthened me when the more serious adult challenges came. I always knew I could turn to Dad and he'd be there. I miss him.

The other memory associated with today is harder. It's also much more raw. Missing my dad can bring me to tears, but thinking about a year ago today is a whole other ball game. A year ago today, the most destructive and deadly wildfire in the history of California galloped through the county where I live. It wiped out the towns of Concow and Paradise, left 50,000 people displaced, and changed our county forever.

Many of our friends lost their homes and all their possessions. Some lost loved pets, a few lost relatives, friends or neighbors. 85 people lost their lives. The impact wasn't so great in my town. Although the fire burned within five miles of our home and threatened us with evacuation warnings, we were spared the flames. We were not spared all of the shock and horror. There's a hymn frequently sung in my church. The third verse begins:



     When dark clouds of trouble hang o'er us, and threaten our peace to destroy,
     There is hope smiling brightly before us, and we know that deliverance is nigh.

I can't sing it without tears. Any time I think of dark clouds of trouble, I remember stepping outside my home last November 8 and watching the black smoke, thousands of feet high, rolling toward us at 50 miles per hour, blown by the same winds that fanned the voracious flames. We lived in hazard masks for three weeks, doing our best to render aid to others while we all worked through shock.

My book, Sunny's Summer, the second book in the "Seasons of Destiny" series, works with characters who experienced that day as so many did. It takes place in the aftermath of the Camp Fire. In it, I've tried to give others the visceral sense of what that first day was like, and what the past year has been like for everyone who experienced it, each of us in different ways. Maybe, for me, it was a form of therapy, or working through the enormity of it all.

People here are recovering. Folks wear t-shirts that proclaim they are #ButteStrong or #ParadiseStrong. The first game of the Paradise High School football team this fall saw the stands overflowing with people who were moving back, or had sworn that one day, they will. Still, every community in Butte County has felt the impact, and nothing will be the same again.

Paradise may indeed rebuild, but it will take ten years before it begins to look like Paradise, and probably 30 years before the population numbers return. The population once here will not return, as displaced people scattered across the map, taking root elsewhere. Speaking of roots, most of the beautiful trees that did not burn died because of the toxins in the air and soil. The forest that went with the town may not fully regrow for a century or longer.

While November 8 means little to the people of the world, for me it's a private memorial day as I think of my dad. To the people of Butte County, it's a day that will live forever in memory, a memory we hope to make happier as life goes on.

Taking my cue from the sun

We're going solar. Again. The first set of panels, put up a few years back, have cut our energy bills so remarkably that, when we were given the chance to put more panels on our roof, we jumped for it.

We've been pleased with the solar company we chose. (Contact me privately if you'd like to know which one.) They own and service the panels, we generate power which we sell to the public utility, and we buy back power from the solar folks. So far, it's reduced most months' bills to a quarter of what they used to be, and the contract we have cost us nothing down.

Our public utility here in northern California has become something of a curse-word since the devastating fires a year ago. The fact that they're cutting power to households all over the state even as I write has not endeared them to any of us. My daughter put that whole question into perspective: "They say they want to avoid wildfires, so they have 900,000 households using candles." Uh-huh. It makes about that much sense to most of us.
 

There's no way to escape said public utility, but by becoming "co-gens" (makers of electric power), we feel we are fighting back, if only in a small way.

The first step in getting the new panels was some electrical rewiring. That happened last week. Abraham and Jesse were here for most of one day and they did a fantastic job. Soon the second crew will arrive and a bunch of healthy young people will crawl around on our roof, making said roof increase its usefulness and reducing the depth to which the utility company can reach when sinking its hand into our pockets.

It's one small step for humankind. I'm eager to take it.

Susan loves to hear from readers. Write her at susan.aylworth.author@gmail.com, or visit www.susanaylworth.com or her Facebook page, www.facebook.com/Susan.Aylworth.Author. Watch for Amber in Autumn, Book 3 in the "Seasons of Destiny" series, coming early next year. Books 1 and 2, Paris in the Springtime and  Sunny's Summer are available in e-book and paperback formats. Winter Skye will follow soon. Who knows? Stay in touch for updates. 

Not my fave

Everybody has a favorite holiday, and most of us have at least one that we'd rather do without. I feel that way about Halloween.

I didn't when I was a kid. I can remember some of the fun costumes I wore. (Yes, kids, we wore costumes even in the dawn of time.) In those days, moms still handed out homemade popcorn balls, cupcakes and candy. The idea that we'd give out only store-bought candy with each piece individually wrapped, goodies parents could feel secure about letting their kids eat, hadn't occurred to any of us.

Maybe that's part of what's soured me on the occasion. As the years pass, it seems Halloween becomes increasingly focused on the dark side. Parents have to walk the streets with their children even in their own neighborhoods, just to be certain they'll be safe. My husband, a photo-journalist, shot pictures of some of the cute kids at our door one year and ended up explaining that to the police. Suspicions are high--for good reason. No one dares bite into an apple taken from a stranger any longer. We've learned we can't trust each other.

I still enjoy seeing the kids dress up, especially when there's cleverness to their choices like the twins who came as Thing 1 and Thing 2 from Dr. Seuss, or the time my daughter's whole family dressed as characters from The Wizard of Oz. The cowardly lion was adorable!  One favorite was when our son and his family did a redux of one favorite video game.

Still, among the princesses and pirates who grace our doorway, I see too many zombies, blood-covered walking corpses, or hockey-masked serial killers. The emphasis on the violent and gruesome wrings out the joy and the innocent childhood delight.

Okay, I'm a stick-in-the-mud, but I find that from one year to the next, I dread the coming of October 31. My husband has suggested that this year, we take the advice of one candy commercial: stock up on plenty of goodies, then turn off the lights, sit in the dark, and eat it all ourselves. There's an appeal to that, but I do see potential down sides, especially the next time the doctor asks me to weigh in.

I've been thinking that, instead of bingeing, I might look for somewhere else to be. Does anyone know of a great place for a stick-in-the-mud to hide out this Thursday? I'll bring candy.

Oh, those deadlines!

I've been Missing in Action for much of the last month. My family wonders where Mom has gone. My neighbors may be asking if I've moved away. Social media connections almost certainly believe I've unfriended them. I've been on deadline.

This particular deadline crunch began with a challenge. I attended a writers' conference in mid-September. A woman I've known for years and have worked with frequently, managing editor at a publishing house that has produced some of my books, attended the same conference. She issued a broad challenge to anyone willing to accept it: The publishing house had a contest going involving three different genres. They sought novellas in each of the three categories, with the best entry in each to be published next year. One of those categories is historical romance and my friend, the editor, challenged me to send her a manuscript.

The problem? She showed me the flyer for the contest and issued her personal challenge on September 14. The deadline for all entries was October 15. Could I write a novella start to finish in a month?

Now you understand why I've been MIA. I've been pushing that deadline. The good news is, the novella is complete at 36,000 words. Three lovely readers and an editor gave it a once-over for me, even when I gave them a two-day deadline to get it done, and I submitted my complete manuscript last week, on October 14, actually one day early. It's a good story, too. I did it! But that's about all I've done lately.

What has this experience taught me? For one thing, I can be stubborn about taking on a challenge, even if it doesn't seem realistic. Also, I can write a book in a month if I'm highly motivated. Those are good things to know. Not so good are some of the other lessons, like realizing I can disappear so completely into the black hole of my fictional world that I can practically vanish from the physical world we inhabit. Not good. Not good at all.

I'm back now, remembering where I live and reconnecting with the actual, flesh-and-blood people around me. I'm even working again on my other deadlines, which got pushed back or snubbed altogether during my month of publishing panic. Today, I appear to be just like other people with other jobs, people who work given hours and live the rest of the time with family and friends.

I'm not cured, however. Deadline Fever will surely strike again. One day soon, I'll realize I've spent so much time playing with my imaginary friends that my actual, physical friends wonder what has happened to me. Or maybe not. After all, my friends know I'm a writer, .

I love to hear from readers. Write me at susan.aylworth.author@gmail.com, or visit www.susanaylworth.com or her Facebook page, www.facebook.com/Susan.Aylworth.Author. Watch for Amber in Autumn, Book 3 in the "Seasons of Destiny" series, coming early next year. Books 1 and 2, Paris in the Springtime and  Sunny's Summer are available in e-book and paperback formats. Winter Skye will follow soon. Who knows? There may even be an historical romance novella to add to the mix. Stay in touch for updates. Happy Autumn!

Fringe benefits

The writers' conference I attended a week ago met in Gilbert, Arizona, in the Phoenix metro. I was born in the bordering city of Mesa and lived there until I was nearly 12. After my family moved north into Navajo country, we continued to visit Mesa several times a year to see grandparents and other relatives and to take care of the kind of business we couldn't do in Navajo County.

My two remaining uncles, my dad's younger brothers, and my husband's one aunt, his mother's sister, all live within 12 miles of the conference center. Seeing family again became a fringe benefit of attending this particular conference. It's a bonus gift I will always treasure.

My Uncle Gary still lives with his wife, Aunt Lynn, in the home I remember from girlhood. Neither of them is in excellent health, but--considering they're in their late 80s--they're doing rather well.

Uncle Harold, who just celebrated his 90th birthday, may be doing even better. He lives in a home he bought a few years ago, on the east side of the Valley of the Sun, drives his own car, and does most of his own cooking. Although he's outlived two wives, he doesn't lack for female companionship. He's dating a widow named Rita. I remember her from the first time they dated, decades ago, before he met the "cute blonde" (his words) who became his first wife.

My husband's Aunt Geniel, who is also 90, isn't doing as well--at least, not lately. A couple of weeks before our arrival, she fell and broke her shoulder. It's irreparable, but Geniel has an amazing pain threshold and says it doesn't bother her much. It does bother the rest of her body, which is reacting to the stress of the physical insult even though it does not register as pain, rising blood pressure being the most obvious sign. We spent some time with his cousin, Donalyn, and visited Aunt Geniel in a rehab hospital, where Donalyn did her mother's hair and Geniel shared stories about her family and girlhood. Despite the injury, she was in good spirits, and we enjoyed our time with her.







What a pleasure to see these wonderful people again! We don't know if we will have the chance in the future. It's a long way from northern California to the Valley of the Sun, and--although each person born comes with a lifetime guarantee--there's no guarantee as to how long that will last. We felt privileged to visit them this time. Call it a fringe benefit.

As an added benefit, I took my spouse on a tour down memory lane, visiting the homes where I lived as a child. At the second home, the place where we lived for a couple of years before moving north, the owner came out, saw us parked at the curb, and invited us in to tour the place. Everything has changed over the decades, but it's still much as I remember it, some of the major features left exactly as they were. We also saw schools I attended, parks where I played with friends, and a church building, now a school, where my family worshipped.

"You can never go home again." So said Thomas Wolfe and the man got it right. It wasn't home and hasn't been for a long time. Both my grandparents' homes, side by side, were long ago knocked down. A large church building stands where their homes once stood. My old church has become a private elementary school and my other schools have changed so much I recognized them only by their locations. Still, I felt the nostalgia of seeing it all again and remembering, just one more side benefit of showing up at last weekend's writers' conference. Thanks again, ANWA.

When writers gather

Writing is a lonely vocation. Most of it is done either alone in an office or with a cadre of imaginary friends inside the author’s own head. Occasionally, that cycle is broken and a group of writers gather. That happened for me this past weekend in Gilbert, Arizona, just outside of Phoenix. 

I belong to a few different writers’ organizations, each with its own purpose. The conference this weekend brought together members of the American Night Writers Association or ANWA. Founded in October, 1986 by Marsha Ward and five other women, the group served mommies with young children. These mothers also aspired to be authors; some were already published and others saw themselves publishing one day. They wrote at night, after the children were asleep, hence the name/

The group that started 33 years ago in a living room now includes 350 members. About half are published authors; the rest aspire to be. Many members have years of publishing experience, multiple book contracts, and designation as best sellers on some impressive lists. Creative energy abounds. It practically buzzes in the air all around us. 

When we combine large numbers of writers—who, by nature, are introverts—with the opportunity to network, teach, and learn, beautiful things happen. I attended workshops on everything from how to create emotional resonance, to writing inspirational non-fiction, to book marketing and taxes; met some multi-talented people, shopped in a store stocked with members' books, and had the opportunity to share some of my own experience in the publishing industry. The weekend inspired, thrilled, impressed and exhausted us all, but it was a lovely kind of tired.

One highlight came when I sat at a table with Marsha Ward, whose vision created ANWA and whose books—dozens of them—grace a number of different publishing platforms and top-seller lists. (That's Marsha in black.) I’ve been to conferences before and I plan to attend more. Every one sends me away refreshed, invigorated, and eager to sit down and write. I can hardly wait to finish Winter Skye. Any day now. . . .

Susan loves to hear from readers. Write her at susan.aylworth.author@gmail.com, or visit www.susanaylworth.com or her Facebook page, www.facebook.com/Susan.Aylworth.Author. Watch for Amber in Autumn, Book 3 in the "Seasons of Destiny" series, coming near the end of September.  Books 1 and 2, Paris in the Springtime and  Sunny's Summer are available in e-book and paperback formats. Winter Skye will follow soon. Stay in touch!