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I’ll explain the photo at the end of this blog post.

First, let me say straight-out that I am not an expert. Ask me the difference in “farther” and “further” or where to place a comma, and I can tell you. Ask me how to make homemade biscuits, and I will show you. Ask me how to explain this virus epidemic like a doctor or scientist? No way.

But if there is anything I know how to do, it is to research and to learn from the ones who do know. That’s what I, as a teacher, taught my students to do. That is what we, as an educated society, should do.

Which is why I am mystified by many who are taking this pandemic lightly. Are they not researching? Are they not listening to the medical professionals? Are they trying to downplay the seriousness of what our country and world are facing because they don’t want to interrupt their routines, if only for a short while?

I’ve heard that argument that the flu has killed more people than COVD-19. True, so far. But what the experts are telling us that this virus is highly contagious, that you can have it and not even know it (thereby being a carrier), and that the death rate is ten times higher than the death rate due to the flu. Because there is no vaccine and it is a new virus, our population doesn’t have immunity to it.

Mathematicians can explain it better than I can. The point is, the virus can spread exponentially. They are not basing this on some remote hypothesis. They are basing this on what they have already witnessed in other countries.

It is highly contagious, as I stated earlier. That is why New York City has more than half of the reported cases.

So where am I getting these facts? From the media? In a way. Because the news outlets, like our local WPSD, the national NBC, and Fox, all stations that I have been watching, feature medical experts who are explaining, answering questions, and giving recommendations. Everyone, from the nation’s surgeon general to the COVD task force headed by Vice-President Pence, to a local doctor in Paducah, says the same thing.

Stay away from people.

President Trump asked us to avoid people for 15 days because that incubation period would go a long way to stop the spread of the virus. Yet millennial still parties on the beaches, people still went to restaurants, groups continued to meet. It’s as if they were saying, “It won’t happen to me.” Many were saying that there was too much hype, that is was like Y2K, that the media was blowing things out of proportion.

They refused to listen to the experts.

Our area is fortunate. We have no reported cases, at least not yet. That doesn’t mean we won’t have, and that doesn’t mean we need to congregate as though the virus isn’t living among us. It could be. That person you’re chatting with may have contracted it but have no symptoms yet cough and send the virus right to you.

While it is not deadly for everyone or even the majority of people, experts now know it doesn’t affect just the elderly as was previously believed. There have been reported deaths of young people. Just think about it. There are plenty of young people with asthma, diabetes, and other conditions that make their immune system not as strong as others. I heard this morning that people with high blood pressure (that’s a lot of you out there) and diabetes are at high risk.

If you’re not concerned about your own health, at least be concerned about the health of others. I can’t help but wonder what the numbers would be if the entire country had listened to President Trump when he asked everyone to not gather for 15 days, to go only to places absolutely necessary and practice social distancing, a recommendation he made after consulting with multiple experts.

The picture above is of me, my brother, and my mother, taken last year on Mother’s Day. I’m 63, my brother is 73, and my mother is 92. Although I’m in the category of higher risk, I have no health conditions. No blood pressure issues, no diabetes, no asthma or COPD, none of that. My brother, however, has a defibrillator and pacemaker, high blood pressure, lung problems, and is on dialysis. My mom, well, she’s 92.

And because I have to care for her needs, I am practicing social distancing. I’m taking all the precautions recommended by the CDC and countless doctors.

Our politicians are concerned about the economic impact of all this, as many of us are. That has kept many governors from mandating business shut-downs, in spite of the strong warnings coming from all over the globe.

As a teacher, part of my job was to teach students social responsibility. That means how to be responsible as a member of a community. Things like not littering, obeying laws, helping others, and all of the things to make our communities stronger by personal actions.

Hospitals in hard-hit areas are desperate for resources to treat those infected. Medical personnel are stretched to the limit. This is not media hype. This is real.

As I stated in last week’s blog, there is no reason to panic. Don’t rush to Walmart to load up on toilet paper and canned goods. The supplies are still coming. Even Italy allows people to leave their homes for necessities like food and medicine. Don’t be in fear for your life. But take precautions. Stay at least six feet from others. Keep your hands away from your face. Wash your hands, with soap, for at least 20 seconds. Use hand sanitizer.

And avoid social gatherings. It’s what they’re asking us to do, and it’s what they don’t want to force us to do by making it a law. They’re wanting us to demonstrate social responsibility.

Listen to the experts, and heed their advice.

Please.

 

I could blog about my grand-dogs. Penny Lane, a beagle/blue-heeler mix. Mowgli, a…well, we’re not sure , but I think he might have greyhound somewhere! Marley, the eleven-year-old diabetic who is blind due to cataracts but till manages to get on our diving board and sit. All sweet, all fun, all loving.

I could blog about some of the amazing vacations I’ve experienced, like the OBX stay in 2018 that blew me away, the Washington, DC trip in 2014 (which I loved more than my husband because we walked A LOT), the times I’ve been to beautiful places like the Grand Canyon and Sedona.

I could write about the time we followed Jane Seymour around on Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills (1982) or how I met Elvis Presley’s uncle in 1978 at Graceland and had a nice chat with him.

I could tell you about all the times I’ve stuck my foot in my mouth and said all the wrong things at the wrong time. Hopefully maturity is helping me with that.

I could recall funny stories from my teaching days, like when a sophomore asked me in my French class, when we were learning the names of animals in French, if the animals in France made the same sounds as animals in the United States or about the time a male student was a little fresh with me (I was young thenK) and when the principal called in the custodial grandfather and the boy to his office, along with me, and the grandfather at the end of the discussion told the boy to apologize and give me a kiss. True story. Don’t worry, I stopped it.

I could write about how I was convinced my youngest son had God’s ear when several of his prayers were answered in unbelievable fashion. One night in particular stands out. It was bedtime, and my seven-year-old told me he didn’t want to go to school the next day. I told him unless he were throwing up or running a fever, he was going. When he said his bedtime prayer, he asked God to make him sick so he wouldn’t have to go to school. About three a.m., he woke me up, and he had a fever of 102. He was sick several days,. I told him to be careful what he prayed for!

Right now, we’re facing an uncertain future. We don’t know what to expect because we’ve never had to deal with anything like this. It’s not my place to tell you how to behave during this time, but it is my sincere hope that we not panic, that we listen to the experts and follow their advice, and that we reach out to help others in whatever ways we can. It is my hope that the good in us will prevail, that we will stop making this a political issue and instead  treat it for what it is, a health crisis of proportions not seen in my lifetime. I would hope we, as a nation, will pull together as we did after 9/11, that will will be united in our efforts to reduce the number of those affected by the virus.

And while we are doing all of that, don’t forget to laugh, to be creative, to focus on what is good and right in our lives. Have faith that we will get through this and things will return to normal eventually.

The Greatest Generation knows this. They lived through the Depression and World War II. There aren’t many of them left, but they could all tell us some stories that would make this pale in comparison.

Hang in there, everyone. Don’t freak out. Be smart, and if necessary, err on the side of caution. Do what you can to stem the spread of the virus. Do what you can to help others.  Let’s do our part to make things better instead of worse.

Don’t get me wrong. I know this is serious. But trust. Pray. Have faith. Then relax.

We all have had them. Those scary moments or those surreal moments, times when we think our lives could be in jeopardy but maybe not enough so that we’re terrified. Or maybe we are. I don’t think I was. Maybe I was too young, at fifteen, to grasp fully what could be happening or maybe I just thought, like most teenagers, that nothing bad would happen to me.

Then again, it wasn’t that bad.

It was December, 1971. My parents and I were flying to Los Angeles to spend the holidays with my brother and his family. We boarded the American Airlines jet in Nashville, our flight scheduled to make a short stop in Memphis before continuing westward.

You should have seen how people dressed to fly back then. Men in their suits and ties. Women in their dresses. I was wearing a cute red and blue dress with boots. Very hip, or so I thought. Looking back now, not so much.

Nobody in jeans. Everyone in their Sunday best.

We’d been in the air about fifteen minutes when the pilot’s voice came over the PA system. I still remember his exact words. “Ladies and gentlemen, I don’t wish to alarm you, but it is American Airlines’ policy to keep our passengers informed. We have received notification from the control tower that there is a sabotage threat on our plane. We will be arriving in Memphis in (I don’t remember the exact time) and will make an emergency landing there. Once again, please don’t be alarmed. This is a precautionary measure.”

Everyone in the cabin froze. Silence, then the buzz of conversation. My dad looked at me.  “I’m sure glad I bought that flight insurance. Ronnie will get (can’t remember the thousands of dollars).”

Wow, Dad, funny, ha-ha.

My first thought was the movie “Airport,” which I had seen the previous year. Older folks remember it, the one with Dean Martin as the pilot. Some guy decided to commit suicide by blowing himself up in the bathroom of a plane, and of course, Dean had to get the plane on the ground and all the passengers to safety. Very exciting.

But this was no movie. I watched as some people prayed openly, some people downed their drinks, others stared straight ahead, and even the flight attendants exchanged worried looks. My mom was a statue of fear next tome, her face pale. “Wouldn’t you know it?” she said. It was her first time to fly, and she had been nervous about it anyway. My first time to fly too. Dad had flown several times and din’t seem worried in the least.

After what seemed like an eternity, (it was only about ten minutes), we touched ground. It was dark outside, and I couldn’t see anything through the window. The pilot came on once again. “Ladies and gentleman, leave all your belongings on board, go to the nearest emergency exit, then run, don’t walk, to the terminal.”

Hmmm. He told us not to be alarmed earlier, and now he was telling us to run from the plane.

The airports in Memphis and Nashville didn’t have the tube exits that exist everywhere today, so when we went to the exit at the rear of the plane, a rolling stairway was in place that we had to descend. We had landed at a deserted part of the airport, not the main terminal. Fire trucks and other vehicles were bearing down on us, sirens going and lights flashing. Very “Die Hard” type of scene.

When we got to the deserted terminal, we found seats while others milled about. Several soldiers were on our flight, looking handsome in their uniforms and drawing my fifteen-year-old attention. A couple of them were near us and talked at length. “All I could think of,” one of them said, “was that I had finished my tours of duty I Viet Nam only to come home and be killed on an American airplane.”

Over two hours later, we were told we could board the plane. As my dad passed the stewardess greeting us as we entered the plane, he asked, “Well, did they find anything?”

Her smile never broke. “If they did, it’s not there now.”

When we disembarked in L.A., the pilot was shaking hands. Dad asked him why the policy was to tell passengers about the threat since they couldn’t do anything about it. The man smiled and pointed upward. “In case anyone needed to make spiritual arrangements.”

We never did find out if there was an actual bomb on the plane. More than likely, it was a hoax. My guess is it was some sort of hoax, maybe even done by some silly teen or someone angry with someone on the plane because if that person had really wanted to blow cup the plane, he wouldn’t have called in a warning.

Some of my friends told me they wouldn’t have ever flown again, but I did. Several times, most of them by myself. It took a huge drop in an air pocket over the Rocky Mountains when landing in Denver to make me dislike flying. Not because I was afraid I was going to die on a plane. Just because of the drop. I don’t even like roller coasters.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My son tells me my blog is not focused enough, that I should focus on one topic, like writing, education, exercising, religion, anything that I am passionate about. He’s probably right. After all, me blogging about whatever comes to mind is pretty random.

But I’m passionate about too many things to narrow it down. Public education is one of them.

I won’t go into why I am so passionate about it, but I will say it goes beyond the fact that I worked in public education for 32 years (I worked in banking for eight). I will share that the first year I taught, 1986-87, was the worst year of my life because as a person who had never even taken an education class, I had no idea what I was doing. I felt and was a complete failure that year, but I worked at it (taking night classes and learning from peers) and managed to stick with it and survive 32 years. I think I finally figured it out.

But in those 32 years, I was privileged to be a teacher, then a principal, then back to a teacher. Those experiences gave me insights I would not have had otherwise. So I’m sharing them today in the hopes of helping a principal, a teacher, a parent. I don’t pretend to have all the answers. I’m not saying I know everything. I am saying I’ve been on all sides in the education world: a parent of two, a classroom teacher for 25 years, and a principal for seven.

So here goes. First, I’ll address principals.

School leaders:

Your teachers need to know you have their backs. They need you to communicate with them. I know, you can’t tell them everything. You have access to information that they don’t have and shouldn’t have. But at least follow up. Let them know you are aware of the issue and are working to resolve it. I know how teachers don’t understand why you don’t kick a student out of the classroom or even out of school (I understand), but at least communicate with them. Explain as much as you can. It helps them to know that something is being done. There is no perfect answer, and I remember my teachers being frustrated when they had to continue to deal with problems they thought I was doing nothing about. I was doing everything I could, but my hands were tied.

I worked under five principals, and the ones I worked the hardest for (well, I worked hard anyway, so I’ll say the ones I was happiest working for) were the ones who were supportive, the ones who encouraged instead of berated, the ones who discussed problems professional to professional instead of threatening.

Now, having said that to principals, I’ll say to teachers what principals want you to know.

Please follow the district’s rules. You may not like them, but it is your job to follow them. If you’re supposed to be at work at a certain time, do it. If your district has a dress code policy for teachers, follow it. If you are supposed to be supervising students in a designated area and enforce the rules, do it. Not everyone can be a great teacher, but anyone can follow the rules.

Those teachers who don’t follow the rules make it harder for the teachers that do. The teachers at the middle school where I was principal were all on the same page, pretty much, and for that reason, everything seemed to operate more smoothly. There was conflict at times for various reasons, but I could count on teachers do their jobs any time of the day. They were teaching, students were learning. Sure, there were some better than others, and we had a few bumps along the way with some, but for the most part, those teachers were consistent in enforcing sc cool policies, and it made things much easier.

You teachers have a hard job.  You have to deal with discipline issues, expectations of parents and principals, testing, curriculum changes, technology glitches, negative attitudes, and more. It’s tough. I get it. Your job can be discouraging. Hang in there.

Finally, to parents, some suggestions to make your child’s school experience better and ways to help your child’s teacher(s).

1.  Expect your child to oe accountable. Make sure assignments are completed on time. Help your child study for tests. If your child makes bad grades, don’t blame the teacher. Talk to the teacher. Find out what’s going on.
2.  If your child consistently gets into trouble at school, don’t assume he/she is being picked on. If your child is getting into trouble, there’s a reason. And I hate to say it, but it’s probably (99.9% of the time) your child’s fault. We educators see a different side to your child than you do. Once again, talk to the teacher. Talk to the principal if needed. Find out what’s going on and address the issue. (Oh, a side note to teachers.)
3. Teachers often spend their own money to provide things like Kleenex, GermX, cough drops or peppermints, for their students. Sure would be nice if you’d send one of those items every now and then.

My main point, I guess, is for all involved to work together. Communicate. Treat each other with respect.

The ultimate focus is the child and his/her learning and development. “It’s all about the kids,” we often said. That’s why people should be working in education. To help kids.

Retirement has given me the freedom to say what’s on my mind. Like I said, I don’t have all the answers, and some things I’ve written are not necessarily just my opinions but also the comments and opinions of others. Things I’ve heard over the years. I was not a perfect teacher nor a perfect principal, and I am glad I was not fired for being imperfect. My purpose for this blog today is to help principals, teachers, and parents to hear things that others want to say to them but won’t because of their positions.

And why do I even care, now that I’m retired? Because I am passionate about public education. And I always will be.

People sometimes ask me how I come up with ideas for stories. My response is that I have more ideas than I have time to write about. An overheard conversation, a feature on the news, even a random comment can trigger all sorts of possibilities.

And let’s not forget art. Or photographs. Or songs. They all trigger ideas in a writer’s mind.

I had some high school friends who were (and are) extremely witty. They were the kings of one-liners, and their sense of humor and way with words improved with age. (Yes, Alex and Chuck, I’m talking about you.) I have friends who are talented poets, others who write wonderful fictional and others who, although they don’t write, have a way of saying things that is unique.

So, for all you creative types, go to my Pam Harris, author Facebook page and look for this photo. In the comments, write a one-sentence beginning, ending, or middle to a story prompted by the acrylic painting above. It can be serious, funny, poetic, whatever you’d like.

I’m looking forward to reading your responses!

Ah, resolutions for the new year. Eat less, exercise more. Save more money. Find a new job. Do something you’ve always wanted to do but never took the time to do. Be more spiritual. Be less uptight. Change for the better. The list goes on and on.

All worthy goals. Too bad most of them won’t last until the end of January.

I hope you stick with your personal goals longer than that. I hope I stick with my personal goals longer than that.

You see, I always have goals, both short-term and long-term. It’s how I’m programmed. Without goals, my life feels empty. I don’t have to wait for the new year to set them. It is an ongoing part of life for me.

The past year has placed me in a very different world, one that has opened my eyes to situations I was always aware of but not always able to comprehend. I’m sure you’ve experienced similar paths. That new perspective has altered my goals somewhat, although I confess I’ve always thought along these lines. I just didn’t always act upon them.

When President George H. W. Bush talked about the thousand points of light, he was referring to what each one of us can do, individually, to make our communities better. By making our communities better, we make our country better. And, as overly optimistic as it sounds, I believe making our country better can help make the world better. One person at a time.

If you follow my blog at all, you know I sometimes post about what we can do for others. Well, that’s the point of my blog today. I am challenging you, along with myself, to be a point of light, no matter what your circumstances.

Resolve to be the person helping others. Resolve to make your home, your neighborhood, your workplace, your community better places to be. Resolve to think of others instead of yourself. Instead of myself.

It doesn’t have to be big. You (and I) can start small. If you’re wondering what I’m talking about, here are some suggestions:

1. Have an elderly neighbor or someone handicapped? Set their garbage out for them each week and bring up the can. Even if they have relatives in town who can do it for them, you are right there and will save the relative a trip, thereby helping two people instead of just one.
2. Go to a nursing home and visit some residents who never have visitors. See if the home will let you bring your dog, k if your dog is people-friendly. Offer to read aloud to those who would like to listen. Check with the activities director about other things you can do. Just an hour out of your week.
3. Offer to babysit for a young mother––for free––to allow her some “me” time. Just an hour, once a week. She can run errands or jut soak in the tub. If once a week is too often, shoot for once a month.
4. Volunteer at a local after-school program. Help kids with their homework. Volunteer to coach a sports team. Give free music lessons. Teach them to draw or paint.
5. Check with the local senior citizens center about opportunities. You can deliver meals or provide needed services for the disabled elderly.

I’m sure you can think of more, so I won’t keep going on. But I do have a twist.

To those of you who are handicapped/disabled in some way, those of you who are lonely, those of you who are struggling––you can do things for others too. Yes, those of us in better health should think of you, but sometimes you can get so caught up in your own unhappiness, you forget to reach out to help others. You can send a card or make a phone call. You can be appreciative of what others do for you. If someone takes the time to come visit you, you can reward their efforts by being pleasant, not constantly complaining, by asking them about their lives. Doing for others is not restricted to the younger and the healthier. (Disclaimer note: I wrote this because I have a friend who cares for an elderly parent who is never appreciative of what her daughter does for her and always complains. I also have some relatives who constantly go on and on about their arthritis, etc. Nothing wrong with complaining at times as it helps to relieve our stress, but some people carry it too far!)

A better community begins with you and me. While it is worthy and needed to have personal goals to improve our health, secure our financial situations, and even realize our “things I always wanted to do but never did” list, it doesn’t hurt to look beyond ourselves to make life better for others.

Happy 2020, everyone. Here’s hoping we all strive to be a light in our little corner of the world!

“I’ll be alone during the holidays,” he said. “The holidays don’t mean much to me.”

I wasn’t shocked to hear him say this. I know there are many who find the holidays a time of sorrow instead of joy. They look around and see others who seem to have family and friends, and they are overwhelmed by sadness because they feel they don’t have the same.

Understandable. But, as Paul Harvey used to say, what about the rest of the story?

“Why won’t you be spending time with your family?” I wanted to ask. “Why are you estranged from them?” But I didn’t, even though I know there are often two sides to the story. Maybe it’s his fault. Maybe it is his son’s or daughter’s. Maybe it’s both.

Instead I said, “If they won’t ask you over, why don’t you ask them over? Can you cook a meal or order something?”

“I don’t have a dining table,” he said. “I eat in the living room on a TV tray.”

Oh. He went on. “They invited me over for Thanksgiving, but they all got up and left the table while I was still eating.”

Ouch. Rude.

I started to say, “Why don’t you ask some friends over to celebrate?” Then I remembered. No dining table.

So I got to thinking. Families are fractured these days, but I have no delusions that families in the past were always happy and things were wonderful. I’ve heard enough stories from my parents over the years, although I do think as they aged, their glasses became a little more rose-tinted. Yet I know some families are more cohesive than others. More unified. More in harmony.

They argue at times, sure. Maybe even some hurt feelings from time to time. But they stick together. They endure. They try to make things work.

Think about all the things that destroy the ideal family. Divorce. Selfishness. Unwillingness to communicate. Addictions. Short tempers. Being inflexible, unwilling to change.

During the holidays, however, maybe we should put those things aside, “we” being our culture. Get along, at least for a few hours. Keep hot topics out of the conversation. Focus on the food and the fellowship, not the fault-finding. Forgive past hurts, for your own sake, without opening the door of your heart to fresh ones.

We all have to live with the consequences of our choices. Unfortunately, our families do too. But maybe, during the holidays, we can stop punishing the ones who have hurt us and be the bigger person. Spread joy instead of taking it away. Giving kindness instead of ill will. Showing mercy and grace instead of judgment. Just for a while.

And for those of us who do not have the struggles this man and his family face, maybe we can reach out to the lonely and the alone by inviting them into our homes for food and fellowship with friends. Maybe our families can be more inclusive and less exclusive.

Food for thought. If you read my blogs regularly, you know I tend to think about things that many people may not think about. Weird, I know, but maybe some of you readers are like me and will appreciate the sentiments I’ve shared today.

May this holiday season bring you joy, not pain, and may you spread that joy to others. Happy holidays, everyone.

Years ago, I read this book that was eventually made into a television mini-series. I later read the sequel, The Prodigal Daughter. I was convinced that Sir Jeffery Archer of England Native to Bristol) was my favorite author.

His books are in depth, requiring a great deal of time for research and writing. I heard an interview with him in which he explained his schedule. He writes from six a.m. to eight a.m., takes a two-hour break, writes from ten a.m. until noon, takes another two-hour break, writes from two p.m. until four p.m., another two-hour break, then finishes his work day by writing from six p.m. until eight p.m. At the time of the interview, he said he was in bed by nine-thirty and up by five a.m.

Regimented, for sure. Dedicated. But the most remarkable thing was that he said he wrote all of his books by hand. Not a typewriter. Not a computer. He may have changed his ways and eventually joined the twenty-first century, but I have a feeling, if he still writes, he continues to do what he has also done.

One book a year. All written by hand. I wonder who had or has the fun of typing them?

He is a master storyteller, something he said is a gift from God. Writers, he said, can study the craft of writing and learn all the grammar rules and sentence structure, but story telling cannot be taught. It is a talent, just as some are talented artists, dancers, and actors.

Over the years, I’ve read a few other books by Archer, but they weren’t quite as good as the first two. As a result, he disappeared from my radar. Until two weeks ago, when I downloaded an audio book, Only Time Will Tell, the first of his five-book series known as the Clifton Chronicles.

I’m hooked. his style is unique, his ability to write in third-person omniscient incredible, and his knowledge of American culture, despite his being British, is impressive. I doubt his books are for you if you’re a fan of romance or suspense, but if you enjoy well-crafted books  that span years of time, you might want to give his a try.

 

 

Merry Christmas! This is my favorite time of year, partly due to the Christmas movies and music that are always available. What fun to make reading Christmas-themed books to the mix!

Several other authors and I have partnered to create a Christmas book scavenger hunt that will result in three winners receiving Amazon gift cards in values of $300 for first place, $150 for second, and $75 for third. All it takes for you to win is to participate in the scavenger hunt by reading each author’s blog post, answering a question about the book, and submitting it by the deadline, 11:59 p.m. EST on Dec. 16! The winners will be drawn on Dec. 17.

Now for information about my book. Smoky Mountain Brides is a two-novella collection including my Can’t Help Falling in Love and Kat Anderson’s Keeper of the Stars. Although the title gives the idea that the setting is in the mountains, that is not actually the case. The settings range from Memphis to northern Mississippi to Knoxville to the Smoky Mountains in my book, while Katt’s character spends most of her time in Nashville, Tennessee.

Kyla Porter and Becki Hunley had been friends since childhood. They had gone to church and school together and had graduated from the University of Tennessee. They parted ways when Becki moved to Nashville to enter the country music field while Kyla continued her education in veterinary school and eventually moved to northern Mississippi to practice veterinary medicine.

Scarred by a tragic ending to a relationship, Kyla finds it hard to trust any man, even the handsome teacher she meets at Graceland, who seems too good to be true. Becki finds the perfect man for her, a handsome doctor she meets at church. Kyla’s road to happiness is a longer, more difficult journey than Becki’s, but they both end up engaged around the same time. When they set their wedding dates independently of each other, they are dismayed to discover the weekend before Christmas is their only option. They are determined, however, to fulfill their youthful promise to each other to be the maid of honor in each other’s wedding, resulting in an unexpected sort of wedding celebration.

The scavenger hunt begins at 6:00 a.m. EST on Dec. 9, and concludes at the time and date above. All you have to do is read the Amazon sample pages for each book and answer one question about each (be sure you fill out this form  ).

The link to my book is https://www.amazon.com/Smoky-Mountain-Brides-Katt-Anderson-ebook/dp/B075QQLKW6 and the question is:

What is the name of the horse Kyla treats on her first visit to Graceland?

Thanks so much for stopping by! I hope you enjoy the hunt, and I wish you the best of luck. The author you may now link to is Izzy James,author of The Christmas Plainsong,  https://enotsilent.wordpress.com/2019/12/09/a-christmas-scavenger-hunt-the-christmas-plainsong/

Today is the final blog in my series of the story behind the story. If you follow my Pam Harris, author page on Facebook, you already know some of what I’ve shared. Even so, maybe you will enjoy a refresher.

I belong to a writers group that meets monthly. Our group consists of multi-published authors, authors not yet published, and a few people who don’t yet write but are interested in learning the craft. A couple of us came up with the idea of writing novellas set on the beach and having them published in one volume. Our original plan was to get the book published by the beginning of summer to give vacationers a beach read, but other responsibilities got in the way, and the book didn’t release until this past September.

But that’s okay. An island story can be appealing in any season.

The only guideline for us was to write in first person. This was new to three of the writers. As a matter of fact, it was Diane’s first book ever. We decided it would be easier not to have our characters connected in any way. They’re not sisters or cousins or friends. Each story stands on its own, unlike the novellas I blogged about yesterday.

I knew where the setting of my book had to be. The Outer Banks (the OBX) of North Carolina. I visited there for the first time in 2018 and fell in love with the area. Where I live, most people head to the gulf for their beach vacations, to places like Gulf Shores, Alabama; Destin, Florida; Pensacola, Florida; and our favorite, Perdido Key, Florida. For you non-Spanish speakers, “perdido” means “lost.” Just thought I’d throw that bit of trivia in there. The Spanish teacher in me will live forever, regardless of retirement!

But the Outer Banks…oh, how I loved it! Not crowded, wide beaches, great (reasonably priced) restaurants with delicious seafood, sites like the Wright Brothers memorial, historical places like The Lost Colony, dolphin cruises, and more.

Remember I wrote that my settings must be places with which I’m familiar, not places I simply research. Also remember I’m a Tennessee gal, so I wanted to have a Tennessee connection in my novella.

This is what I devised:

When pop country singing star Holly Bellamy (known as Rachelle) can’t stand the spotlight and pressure anymore, she escapes to Duck, North Carolina, to hide out at Surf Song Inn while she tries to figure out what she wants to do with her life. Her sister/manager Jada is left in Nashville to deal with the record label while Holly, who has dyed and cut her hair short to disguise her identity, revels in the anonymity of a normal tourist.

The inn’s family atmosphere draws her to the workers there, especially Brody, the owner. As their relationship evolves from casual friendship to one of romantic promise, Holly has to make some important decisions about her future, especially after she learns of a betrayal by someone she thought was her friend as well as Brody’s own lack of honesty.

When I came up with the name of the inn, I thought it was catchy and creative because it tied in with her singing career. After I sent the book to the publisher, I thought, “I hope there’s not a real place named that.” I searched online, and lo and behold, there is a vacation rental on VRBO named Surf Song Inn. It’s not an actual inn, just a vacation rental, but what are the odds? Anyway, my novella is the fourth one in the book, and I encourage you to go to Amazon and read the blurbs about the other three.

I mentioned yesterday that I would share an excerpt from my current work in progress, but I’ve changed my mind. I will reserve that for its own blog one day next week.

I wish all of you in the U.S. a very enjoyable Thanksgiving tomorrow. Safe travels to those of you hitting the road or the air, and many thanks to those of you who have purchased any of my books. I hope they have brought you some enjoyment, and I am thankful for you. If you have the time, I’d be even more grateful if you’d write a review on Amazon!

I’ll be blogging soon as part of an online scavenger hunt involving prizes, so be on the lookout for that around Dec. 16. It involves Christmas-themed books, and at this time, I have no idea how many authors are involved, but the more authors that participate, the better the prize!

I’ll close with some photos of the Outer Banks. You may need a beach escape right now. Thanks for using your valuable time to read my blog!