Of Quests and Walmart

Not too long ago, in the midst of an online discussion among writers, someone asked the question: “How do you define success as a writer?”

People came up with all kinds of wonderfully artsy-fartsy answers that ranged from heartfelt (“when I get my first nice review from a complete stranger”) to the practical (“when I can pay my rent on what I earn from writing”) to the downright silly (“When I can buy my own jet”).

My answer? “When I can see one of my books on the shelf at Walmart.”

Yeah, they gave me a hard time about that. What can I say? I live in the middle of nowhere, and WalMart is about the only place around to buy books. We may be rednecks and hillbillies out here, but some of us are well read rednecks and hillbillies, and there just aren’t a lot of places around here to shop.

For anything.

Well, we have a Mr. Grocery and a Pick-A-Liquor nearby, but I strongly doubt I’m going to find any good reading material at either of those.

A great bottle of cheap wine, yes. The newest treasure from Shanna Hatfield? Not so much.

So now that I have a story appearing in Chicken Soup for the Soul: Angels and Miracles®, I am on a quest.  It is my new goal in life to take a selfie standing in front of the bookshelves at the local Walmart with my edition of Chicken Soup for the Soul on the shelf beside me. Doesn’t seem like that should be such a difficult task, now does it?

But my local Walmart doesn’t have it.

Neither does the Walmart in Paw Paw. Or the Walmart on 9th Street in Kalamazoo. I’ve even expanded my quest a bit to the local Meijer’s, but no luck.  They all carry Chicken Soup for the Soul in all kinds of varieties, but none of my edition.

Think about it for a moment. What could possibly be more ridiculous than having a major quest in life that involves Walmart?

Not being able to fulfill that quest at Walmart.

I can see it now. I have a long future ahead of me as some sort of crazed creeper in book departments of Walmarts of the world. I’ll devote my days to searching out a copy of my edition of Chicken Soup for the Soul so I can take a selfie with it. By the time it finally happens (and it will happen eventually), I’ll be a gray-haired old crazy woman who runs around Walmart with my cell phone in hand, murmuring to myself about selfies and chicken soup.

Of course, since it’s Walmart, no one will notice.

On second thought, it might just be easier to find a different way of defining success for myself.

Then again, I’ve never been one to do anything the easy way.

 

 

 

Happy Summer!

 

You know how sometimes you just feel the need to go back and re-read a book that you’ve read many times before?

That’s where I’ve been lately. I don’t know why, but I recently had to sit down and read Janette Oke’s Love Comes Softly and all its sequels. They are sweet, easy-to-read stories that I discovered during my first pregnancy when I became obsessed with tales of the American Frontier.

I also watched the movies “based on” the first three books in the series and laughed my ass off over some of the worst book-to-movie adaptations in the history of book-to-movie adaptations. Really, Hallmark? Did any of you folks actually read any of the books?

At any rate, re-reading Janette Oke’s books has sent me off on a reading spree of romantic fiction set during that era. I’ve discovered authors like Shanna Hatfield and Annie Boone. I’ve become addicted to the  Cutter’s  Creek and Pendleton Petticoats series.

Now, I don’t know about any of you, but when I discover some new favorites, I tend to go a bit overboard. Housework suffers. I stay up too late at night reading. I get lost in the fictional world I am reading about.

And because I’m a writer, something else happens.

I get inspired.

So .  . . I am writing my first historical fiction. It’s something I’ve always wanted to do but have been afraid to try because I worry that I’m not smart enough to get the historical details right. But if I’ve learned anything in the past few years, I’ve learned that the only way to conquer fear is to face it head-on and tell it to go to hell.

It’s going to be a squeaky-clean romance, without any descriptive sex. Hey, I want to write something my mother-in-law can read without leading to any uncomfortable conversations between us!

Never fear, I’m still finishing up my Beach Haven series, and I plan on continuing to make folks smile with the sequel to Fat, Fifty, and Menopausal. I’m just taking a little detour. So please be patient with me and understand if things stay quiet here for the next few months. I promise, I’m still going strong. I’ve got books to read, books to write, bonfires to attend, and a great big lake to swim in.

What about all of you? What are you reading this summer?

Happy summer, all!