francine's blog

Attempts at Gardening

Over the past twelve years, I have been trying my hand at gardening.  My mother had a green thumb, and my brother definitely has two green thumbs; he can grow anything from Jerusalem artichokes to Asian pears.  Me?  Nada.  But I’m still trying.  

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Ideas and New Beginnings

Whenever I finish a novel, I wonder if I’ll be writing another one, or if it’s time to “retire”.   Even mentioning the word makes Rick a little nervous.  “You’re not a happy camper when you’re not working on a project.”  Really?  What happens if I don’t feel the Lord nudging me into another project?

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Addicted to Travel

Recently, I was asked about memorable road trips.  My first experiences were with my mom and dad and brother. My parents only had two weeks of vacation a year, and they wanted to visit as many National Parks as possible.  Hence, we spent long hours in a car without air conditioning to get to the goal – wherever it happened to be. Sometimes they drove until after dark and parked the small trailer along the road side (until one night when we could hear a distant river and discovered in the morning it was hundreds of feet down a cliff face a few yards from the trailer steps).

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Writers' Retreat

Over Labor Day week-end, I joined a group of writer friends, both men and women, all veterans who have survived the ups and downs and ins and outs of the publishing industry over the last twenty to thirty years.  You’d know their names.  Some have sold millions of books all over the world.  Several had written more than one hundred books, one – over two hundred.

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My Office

Now that Bridge to Haven is in Tyndalean hands and moving toward publication, it’s time for me to clear my working space.  To my left is a wall-length bulletin board on which I’ve pinned pictures of my characters.  Some are people you would recognize; others are unknowns whose pictures I found in magazines or newspapers.  I also created the town of Haven, complete with a grid of streets, with pictures I took of stores (giving them new names) and family homes, and where the river runs through my imaginary town.   I love towns with a western/Victorian feel.&n

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KLOVE Cruising

I’ve been listening to KLOVE Radio since Rick and I moved to Sebastopol in 1985.  It was a small start-up station then, conceived by San Francisco DJ Bob Anthony, with Dick Jenkins as general manager.  I wasn’t a Christian yet, but loved the “positive alternative” music with lyrics that fed my soul and made me dance (or sing along when I was alone in the car).  When KLOVE sponsored concerts in Santa Rosa, I brought my three young children along.  Petra was one of our favorite bands.  We used to sing “This Means War” at the top of our voices. 

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Coming Spring 2014 - Bridge To Haven

To those who matter in 1950s Hollywood, Lena Scott is the hottest rising star to hit the silver screen since Marilyn Monroe. Few know her real name is Abra. Even fewer know the price she’s paid to finally feel like she’s somebody.

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Gettysburg and Philadelphia

            No sooner did I get back from the Oregon trip with my daughter, elder son and three grandchildren, than Rick and I packed and headed off with a couple from our Bible study to see Philadelphia and Gettysburg.  We’d been planning this trip for almost two years, eager to get a taste of history with the 150th anniversary of the Battle of Gettysburg. 

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Bridge to Haven - Coming Soon!

Yesterday, I emailed my third and final scene to my editor.  She has already completed the deletions and sent me the “clean copy” and will be dropping the new scene in when I’ve finished my read-through.  I must admit, when I saw the small pile of work, I gulped.  Is that all that’s left of 200,000+ words and eighteen months of hard work?  But then, it is single-spaced with wide margins, and not the double spaced manuscript format I submitted.  Whew.    

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Oregon or Bust!

            When my children were young, I took them up to Brookings-Harbor, Oregon each summer to visit with my parents who lived up the hill and across the highway from Whaleshead Beach.  We usually spent 7-10 days.  Mom always had “stone soup” waiting for our arrival – and a fresh batch of chocolate chip cookies.  Mom got up early every morning and prepared a picnic basket.  Dad often kept the kids occupied in the forest behind their house or making sling shots or hunting salamanders.  We’d a

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