Wednesday 1st September 2021
Ahh September. A month for beginnings.
We're beginning to settle into life in Maryland, still living with a couch, a TV, a bed, and an outdoor table and chairs on loan from a dear neighbor. The container with our goods has finally left our UK removal company's warehouse and is sitting on a dock—in a UK bay—waiting to be loaded onto a container ship due into a nearby port in the USA at the end of September. I'm trying not to think about the fact this is hurricane season and as I sit here writing this on our porch I am noticing the wind picking up as we await the tail end of Ida before she heads out to sea.
I am acutely aware our problems are nothing compared to the folks who have lost loved ones, homes, and livelihoods from the recent wrath of nature—floods and winds from Hurricane Ida in the east and devastating fires in the west; compared to people in Afghanistan, especially the women, who face an uncertain and potentially devastating future; compared to people all over the USA and the UK who have Covid or are living in fear of it—whether or not to trust the vaccines and masks or social media warning them not to vaccinate and telling them masks are useless.
So I turn to my writing for solace where I lose myself in the adventures of my characters. Writing gives me what I consider to be one of God's greatest gifts—creativity. It's the gift that pulls me out of myself and at the same time makes me go deeper. Writing—and reading—quiets me just enough so I can be led down many roads of discovery.
I've been asked many times lately to describe my books and I can think of no better way to do this than to say my books are adventure stories and mysteries with mature characters who are always on the move, traveling for a variety of reasons as they face a range of challenges and dangerous situations. My favorite books growing up were always either mysteries (Nancy Drew, Trixie Belden) or adventure stories (Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, Swiss Family Robinson, Tom Sawyer, The Incredible Journey).
When I think about who I was as a child and who I am now, what other way could I write?