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Martha Carr


The story of Christmas for a lot of us is summed up by the image of the creche. Three wise men holding gifts, a loving mother holding her newborn, as animals peacefully sit nearby.

However, the entire story reads more like one of the first really good thrillers. The three wise men, also known as the Magi, were in search of a child who was predicted to be a new kind of ruler that would save the world. That’s a pretty bold statement and generally saved for a series of thrillers so a writer can really develop the plot over time.

A character, who was destined to only be the bad guy for the first in the series, King Herod, thought of himself as the current ruler of the world. He had heard the same rumor about his replacement and plotted against the whole idea. He asked the Magi where the child was to be born so he could also worship the new Messiah. He didn’t mean a word of it. He was busy plotting murder.

Already there’s a little magic, some betrayal and mystery.

Meanwhile, Joseph and a pregnant Mary are traveling by donkey to Bethlehem where no one is really willing to help them out. The good guys don’t have the big army or the fancy caravan. They are the obvious underdogs and we are really pulling for them.

So far, this is a great thriller with a few twists and turns.

This is where the creche scene gets played out. Jesus is born in the barn, among the animals. The Magi, who have followed the star, fulfill the prophecy and find the child. Another dream tells them to not return to Herod and to take another route home.

Herod finds out that he was double-crossed and orders that every male child under two years old be murdered in the vicinity of Bethlehem. Meanwhile, an angel has already appeared to Joseph in a dream and told him to hightail it out of Bethlehem and don’t come back until the coast is clear.

I’m not sure James Patterson could have come up with so many twists and turns wrapped up in a supernatural phenomenon and a grand conspiracy done in by a betrayal. All good stuff and could keep any reader on the edge of their seat wondering if the good guys were going to win. What will the next books in the series bring?

In this story, there is a triumph of the human spirit over the usual practices of the day that were more often brutal, and generally lacked even the idea of compassion. Revenge was far more popular than the idea of forgiveness.

The story of Christmas even ends with the ultimate plot twist. The world as it had always been was changed forever by a gift given in the most humble circumstances meant to benefit anyone who chose to receive it. Even the greatest ruler of the day could do nothing to get in the way.

Against all of those odds, love won out and a new day had begun. The original gift that keeps on giving. Merry Christmas everyone.




It goes without saying that chaos has an element of ‘thrill’ to it. Normally, though, the thrill is thought of as more like heart-pounding, enduring, can’t wait for this to be over, kind of a thrill. Chaos, by its definition, means out of my control, and who wants that?

Sure, thriller writers like me go out of our way to create that on paper, and readers go with me for the ride to feel out of control, as the story spins to a satisfying and sometimes chaotic conclusion. But that’s all fiction, and you close the book and you can go back to your life. Ah, calm, peace.

Put some chaos into my daily routine, though, and that adds so much, what-if, inside of the journey that I might not like or worse, might make me look stupid or vulnerable. What if I can’t fix it right away, or at all?

Later I can get a lot of mileage out of the story when telling my friends and coworkers. However, the whole time I’m getting a laugh or two or even a nice gasp from my audience, there’s also a prayer going around in my head. Please don’t ever let that happen again.

Or that used to be the case.

Ever since I found an element of faith and even better, have let that faith grow into the corners of my life, including my writing, my life has grown bigger and better. I’ve learned that it’s not my job to know how things will turn out, just have enough willingness to keep doing what’s right in front of me. In other words, stay present right where I am.

Recently, I noticed that it was getting way too easy for me to work long hours without anyone noticing I was missing in action. That’s a remnant of my old self. Surely, if I just work harder, longer this will eventually add up to something for the better. Actually, I wore myself out until I finally made a little room for God to do the heavy lifting. The less I did, the more things started to happen.

I know, that’s the opposite of a lot of rah-rah business books on success. But, I’m doing my best to walk a spiritual path, which means balance, and a recognition I don’t know everything, can’t do everything and it will still all be alright.

But, what to do about this old habit of working to fill the hours?

I adopted a pointer from the local shelter who is just under a year old and deaf and named her, Lois. Lately, I find myself running around in my backyard, laughing as she tries to fake me out. Or sweeping up dirt in the middle of the kitchen floor that was dragged in when she went to retrieve a bone. When I want to get her attention so she’ll quit barking at a fly, I have to get up and wave my arm in front of her face. It’s all a little chaotic. Thank goodness.

For me, Lois is a new and constant reminder that I’m not in charge and that’s okay. Letting go and being in the moment takes a willingness to let life be messy. The rewards have been great adventures with all the loved ones right around me.

I can save the more perilous twists and turns for Wallis Jones and The Circle, and even then, Wallis is looking for a way to do the right thing and still keep everyone safe. More adventures to follow.


The List new front cover

Let me set all of this up for you by saying for about a decade my goal was to try and stand still in life. I was newly divorced with a small child, had to sell the house, find a job, any job, and my biggest goal was not to lose anything else. I had no idea how to accomplish that goal, and no spiritual foundation to stand on, no experience gathering support. My fear grew and grew, keeping me up at night, wondering how I could accomplish just a normal, middle class life.

It was a painful, lonely experience, surrounded by people, while doing my best to be a good mother, write thrillers, and look after elderly parents. I lived in a constant state of feeling overwhelmed and saw it as a permanent state, not temporary.

Then, I started to seek out spiritual answers and as my faith grew, my self esteem started to build exactly like bricks in a house – one piece at a time. I learned how to ask questions from appropriate sources, stop doing so much and to let go of having to know the outcome before I’d set out.

That last one was a favorite. I was so concerned that my ignorance of where things would end up could cause harm to myself or others that, like I said, I wanted to stand still. But life doesn’t really work that way.

Life is always changing and we never, ever know where things will end up. This is where a spiritual foundation of faith became crucial. The more I came to believe in a loving God, the more I was willing to trust and take positive actions without an idea of outcome. I started to see choices right in front of me.

I still knew where I wanted to go but I was willing to believe there were other possibilities and, even more important, to enjoy the journey.

Taking action has been a shocker on a soul level, working all the way out. That old instinct still kicks in every time I start out on something new, and at times is very painful. It’s an echo of old feelings that I hear, deep, down inside from a time that no longer exists.

Feelings are so powerful that I used to think they were real indicators of something going wrong. Faith tells me, they’re false, keep going, see where all of this leads, and so, I set out to buy a house, write another book, take on new speaking engagements, try dating, and write thrillers that bring an element of God into them. In other words, be myself, all the time with no hope of perfection, which is the good news.

Those elements are the backbone to the Wallis Jones series because I wanted to tell a good thriller, packed with twists and turns for Wallis and her family, and have her search for her faith, wondering if that would really bring any kind of peace to a chaotic life. Every time Wallis hangs in there and leaves room for God she gets to see Him in action in her life, and something deep within changes. Hope is replaced with belief.


  • The List new front coverI thought that writing thrillers was somehow unrelated to the average life, like mine. Not true. Every time I hear from readers what they’re getting out of The List or The Keeper, I see what I was working on deep inside, even if there are dead bodies and a nice conspiracy.

    Wallis Jones, the woman at the center of the series, has a lot in common with most of us. She believes she can make things work for herself by working hard, being honest, using her common sense. You know the list.

    She believes it and sees the proof and judges others by it, till it stops working for her and she can’t make things go back to the way they used to be. Imagine having to tweak your entire operating system from the inside out – in the middle of a conspiracy that’s bigger than you are – and want more than anything for everyone you love to be okay, and happy.

    That’s the thrill of love, and other things. The solution is simple and difficult to pull off, all at the same time, because it’s counter-intuitive to the doer’s guide to life. Just allow things to be the way they are and make choices based on what you want on that day.

    It has been suggested to me more than once, (okay, for years), to just ‘allow’. That’s the end of the sentence, as if that were a complete thought. People would come up with that suggestion totally independent of each other.

    I had no idea what it meant.

    The words were completely foreign to me. I was used to having an action plan with a goal and without that I had no idea what it mean to just ‘allow’. Allow what?

    I asked that question every time hoping for an answer with a little substance that would give me some direction. All I got, every time, was a smile and a repeat of those two words – just allow. I felt frustrated but the words stayed with me.

    Over time, I started to catch glimpses of what those words might mean and the absolute power they held to transform my life. Something would happen just as I was feeling the old grind of resentment about something. I didn’t get invited to a party, or the credit for a project at work went to someone else. Small stuff but over time builds up like plaque until everything gets filtered through a thought of, ‘what about me’?

    But, a new thought would step in between and I’d hear, just allow, and feel myself relax into it. I hated that old feeling that I knew was selfish and petty, and I knew somehow it was blocking me from seeing something big. Frankly, I was worn out from all the doing.

    I was finally willing to try a new thought because I was finally worn out. What if it was okay that I wasn’t invited? What if it was okay that no one at work ever knew what I did? Would it matter? Probably not, and I was willing to see because every time I had that thought, I felt myself relax. My shoulders dropped into place and my mind slowed down from the constant whirrrrrrr.

    I was leaving room for God. My translation – I was leaving room for possibility, choice, expansion, ease, joy, peace and wonder.

    I’m not giving anything away to say that Wallis is on the same journey to get to that new place again, and again because the way there is filled with adventure whether it’s an inspirational thriller series, or just you and me. Still thrilling.

    Coming soon – An updated look to the website and a new book, The Circle, out in April, 2015. Stay tuned.


Katie, Martha, Louie

Family is what you make of it. In the beginning, as children, we take what we’re given and do the best we can. For some of us, it’s a continual blessing that grows richer and deeper with time. For others, we recover from the original family and, with some help, create a family out of the people in our lives. It’s all good.

However, for either one of those scenarios to work, we have to be willing to love and forgive on a continual basis. As it turns out, the biggest thriller any of us will ever know are the journeys we all take to be a part of something bigger than ourselves – a family.

This week I discovered that there’s a patch of family on my mother’s side living just 15 minutes away that I’ve never met before and I no very little about them, except for one important detail. My mother, Tina, rarely talked about her past at all, never told very many stories of what her childhood was like, for whatever reasons. I don’t really know. There was one exception and that was Ivan Toler, who she clearly loved and remembered fondly.

They grew up together in Georgia and he’s the one person I know of in the world that shared the best memories my mother had of those days. Today I get to meet him and sit quietly to just listen. No expectations of what the day may hold or what may be revealed. A new connection to family that comes with the best kind of loving invitation already secured by my mother.

Mom passed away in April of 2014 and I miss the phone calls with her because she was the one person in the world who would worry about me, even if there was no need to be concerned. She was also the one who cheered me on when I started the new thriller series, and said with confidence, “Oh, that will be easy for you.” I wasn’t so sure but Mom said it so easily and so quickly that I decided to just go with her view of things. People who love us can grace us with that kind of confidence from the inside, out.

They’re sharing the kind of love that doesn’t take anything away from anyone.

There’s more that can come with being part of a family, like old stories that sometimes run through our head and hurt our feelings and disrupt things like Thanksgiving dinners. But it doesn’t have to be that way.

Look at it from a new angle by taking a good look at everyone gathered around your own Thanksgiving table. Chances are, no one else at that table even knows your old stories. For them it never happened and doesn’t exist because the past is gone. All they know about you starts with the day you met and moves forward. That’s their gift to you.

Don’t return the gift with the tags still on it by drudging up what no longer matters. Be in the moment and forgive the past by letting it stay right where it is. Then, try sitting quietly and listening to the stories as if you didn’t really know anyone in them, but knew you were really going to love them all. Happy Thanksgiving everyone. More adventures to follow.


This week I’m posting a little something different. A short-short story about the enduring love of marriage and blooming where you’re planted. Enjoy.


“We can make this work,” Lenny mumbled, as he tried to jam the air hose into the side of the Moon Bounce. The large orange pile started to take shape and rise up over Lenny’s head. ‘Holiday Sno-Globe’ was printed in big red and green letters across the top, just above the entrance. Blow-up figures of life-size snow men and plastic green fir trees took shape inside the Bounce. Lenny had added those, securing them with a little glue and black electrical tape.

Kids were already lining up in front trying to be the first in line. Ruth, Lenny’s wife of just a few months was busy selling tickets. This was their big test to see if Lenny had wasted their nest egg or finally found himself gainful employment. Lenny noticed the skinny kid, second in line who kept randomly digging in and scratching various body parts. “That can’t be good,” he mumbled.
“Grab the bowl,” said Ruth, glancing over her shoulder. She was smiling broadly at Lenny, holding up a fistful of one dollar bills. He smiled back at her, the itchy kid forgotten, as he dared to feel a new sense of pride for coming up with their new family enterprise.

He was so sure of the big idea when he first drove home to show it to Ruth. Every time he had glanced into his rear view mirror and saw the large hump of orange rubber and plastic tied down in the bed of his truck, a sense of satisfaction had come over him. ‘At last,’ he had thought, ‘my own business.’

Ruth and Lenny had recently eloped on a whim after Lenny had spent months courting Ruth Barlow by nervously reeling off bits of trivia. “Did you know that Chester Arthur was the only president to never get his party’s nomination? Did you know that polar bears are the only other mammals besides humans that hunt just for the heck of it?”

It was like a nervous tic.

Ruth said yes to his proposal anyway and with the money he had saved and her mother chipped in, they put a down payment on a house. That left exactly $1,200 for them to put in the bank. Those were Ruth’s instructions to Lenny; to open a savings account at the Portview Bank, along with get a job on the way home.

Lenny had left their small bungalow dressed in his only sport coat and a tie with little ‘TNT’s printed down the front, determined to find a job. The money was safe in his wallet and could wait, he thought. “First I find a job.”

But after the fifth ‘no’, Lenny started to wonder if he was going to have to disappoint his new bride. No one was hiring.

That’s when he saw the sign. Moon Bounce for sale, $450. The price had apparently been $750 but was marked through. A bargain, thought Lenny but now that they were about to try it out, he wasn’t so sure.

‘What if all of this fails and my marriage is over before it really gets going?’ he thought.

Lenny peeled the plastic wrap off of the top of the large plastic bowl, a wedding present from his Aunt Jean and Uncle Jack and gave the bowl a gentle shake to loosen up all of the tiny homemade red and green snow flakes. Just as each child was about to cross over the threshold into the big Bounce, Lenny sprinkled them with a good dose of edible snow flakes.

It was Ruth’s idea to make their Moon Bounce stand out in the market and give themselves a theme.

“Branding,” she said, “it’s everything these days.”

There were five more bowls lined up by his feet, just waiting for customers. It had taken them all day to color the snowflakes and get it just right. “There has to be a billion of them,” he said.

“No two alike.”

The first twenty kids were loaded into the giant replica of a winter Sno-Globe as

Lenny zipped shut the door and sat down at the Hammond XK-1 Drawbar organ he had borrowed from their neighbor. He started with Frosty the Snowman concentrating on getting the notes right but as he got into Jingle Bells he started to relax and looked up at the Sno-Globe in full swing. From where he sat he could just see the tops of small heads as they bounced into the air, sprinkles of red and green shaking all around them.

“I knew you could do it, Lenny,” said Ruth, as she came to stand next to him by the organ. Lenny made a mental note to forget everything Ruth had initially said about his new purchase and use the only piece of advice his father ever gave him.

“Women are always right,” he said, “and when they’re not, they don’t need to know about it. That’s how you stay married and happy.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and leaned back into the chair.

“Lenny! Lenny!”

He snapped his eyes open and looked around. He had fallen asleep in the recliner again waiting for Ruth to get ready.

“Come on Lenny, we’re gonna’ be late for our own party. The kids went to a lot of trouble. Fifty years of marriage doesn’t happen for just anybody these days,” said Ruth. She smiled at Lenny, and grabbed his hand to give him the extra oomph he seemed to need to get out of a chair these days. Too many years hunched over an air hose or cleaning up stale snowflakes.

‘It was worth it, he thought, paid for this house and put three kids through college.’

Lenny had actually been ready for over an hour and had sat down to wait for Ruth to put on what she called her finishing touches. He kissed the top of her gray head.

“We work well together,” he said to Ruth, as he followed behind her. “I think this marriage just might last.” It was his favorite joke. He’d been saying it for years.


TheListFrontCover Jones smallerIf you really want to get your heart racing you can pick up a thriller or even better, dive headfirst into social media. If you write thrillers, you’re going to have to put yourself and your books in the middle of the fray and tweet, update and post.

Then, just when you feel like you have it somewhat under control the landscape will change. A new tool will come along and an old one that you really put a lot of time and effort into will fade from popularity.

That scenario isn’t going to change, ever, if you’re an author who’d like a shot at a growing audience. Here’s a few tips on how to live peacefully with social media and a few new platforms you may want to investigate.

  1. Make peace with the idea that you won’t be able to do it all and you won’t always get the mix right. Ask author friends in similar genres what works best for them and commit to three different platforms for yourself. Start, knowing this is going to be a marathon and not a sprint. It takes time to build a following and then to turn them into readers.
  2. Find a system for yourself that works. I like Hootsuite for posting during the week. I set it all up on the weekend and let Hootsuite post to different places like Twitter and Facebook three times a day, while I’m doing other things. I also set up any blog posts at the same time and check on a few other sites.
  3. Network at conferences, both in person and online, with your fellow authors for tips. Help each other out by sharing posts, tweets or repinning on boards.

A few social media sites to check out are - Check out their program, Early Reviewers where you can give away your ebook to readers who agree to leave reviews. - A new site where people can share stories, short or novel-length, for free and build a readership. You can find me there under MarthaRCarr. Recently a young woman got a billion readers for her first work and sold the movie rights. That’s the outlier but you can see the potential.

Pinterest - This is a familiar site for most of us but are you using it to its full advantage for your novel? Think about creating a board for your main characters and pin what they’d like to wear, what restaurants they might haunt, or if you’re a thriller writer like me, what weapons they’d prefer. You can see my boards, here.

The last one is Facebook, the granddaddy of social media even though it’s only ten years old. Consider boosting a post from your Facebook author page, (which means buying an ad, basically), once a week for just $5. Think of it as an extra trip to Starbucks. To get some ideas of what I’ve done on my page, you can see it here.


Martha pic blue sweater 030313When it comes to a career path, there are two kinds of people. In one camp are the people who get smacked in the face with a kind of awe one day, and believe they have a calling to do something in particular. In the other camp are those who are looking for opportunity and have a lot of different interests. Their life has a kind of balance without any dogged fixation on one thing in particular. It seems ideal in a ‘grass is always greener’ kind of way.

I’ve always fallen squarely into the first camp. I’ve known I wanted to be a writer since I was five years old, standing in the center of a Philadelphia library. I marveled at the idea that some genius had thought to gather books in one building, and then loan them out.

My father talked about having a calling in his thirties to be a minister. He was already the father of three girls and an engineer but one day, something came over him.

He said, whenever someone came to him and asked if it was a good idea to enter the ministry, he asked them about their calling. He said that element was necessary to survive all of those vestry meetings.

That’s the thing about having a passion for one particular career. There are stretches that are so long and difficult that a saner person would look for something else to do.

Writers will look for ways to stay a writer.

When I was new, a seasoned writer told me the secret to being an old author was just not quitting. Most left the profession, he said. Now, I get it, but back when he was telling me that sounded crazy.

In my  career there has already been the start of internet publishing, social media platforms and one Great Recession. Any one of those was enough to thin the herd.

It never occurred to me to quit and become something else. At worst, I thought about how this was probably keeping my brain young because I was constantly having to pick up some new computer skill just to marginally keep up. It’s no longer possible to live like a recluse and sell more than a handful of books.

At best, I have set out to network with other authors and remind myself of a few things.

  1. Every author, regardless of budget, is struggling to keep up with Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Google+ and whatever new platform someone has introduced last Friday. People who want balance in their life have to make choices, and keep it in perspective. I ask myself, all the time, what avenues sound like they might be at least a little fun. My audiences tend to be like me, so that’s also a good indicator of where they’re gathering.
  2. No one knows what works, for sure, even if what they’re doing is actually working. I can’t even tell you exactly when it started to work, except that it seems to move forward, faster when I’m listening to my own inner voice, instead of someone else’s idea.
  3. That leads me to my biggest lesson that I learned the hard way. Every author I know who has stayed in this business for longer than a few years has a genre they love at the center of everything they do. There may be sidelines or adventures but eventually they go back to that core of thrillers or romance or biographies. I spent some time listening to other people’s ideas and instead, spread myself thin. I did have some great adventures but it did nothing for my career, and eventually I wandered back to thrillers.

Now, I’m having more fun than I’ve ever had as a writer and a lot of it is because I’m interested in what I’m researching and writing about, and the conversations that get stirred up as a result of a book. Go figure. That’s when I connect with that little girl in the middle of the library and spin out a new story, with a few dead bodies, a little faith, and all kinds of romance. The Circle, 3rd in the Wallis Jones series will be out in April, 2015. The List and The Keeper are out now.


TheListFrontCover Jones smallerWriting is a very personal act rolled up inside of a traditional business. Like any other art form, who we are as artists come through in what we do, whether we like it or not.

The upside as a writer, is that I unexpectedly learn a lot more about myself with each book after readers tell me what themes they’ve picked out of the book.

A light bulb goes on for me and I see what it was I was really trying to say. Sometimes I think there’s a deep, inner part of me that’s driving the bus and motivating me to write so that I can finally get at a truth.

I’d love for that part to send out a postcard and get it over with, but apparently that’s not the way it works.

In The Keeper, the current book and the second thriller in The Wallis Jones series, there are people keeping secrets, or in other words, hiding in plain sight. They appear to be one thing, and as the story progresses, it becomes clear they are something completely different. Don’t worry, that gives nothing away.

What did I learn from that? That the art and the business of my career were not syncing up and I was doing it to myself.

Let me explain. I was pouring everything I had into the books and the reviews from both the media and readers backed me up – they loved the books. That’s the art.

But I was not packaging the books correctly. I was saying they were political thrillers, and then even mumbling that I knew that wasn’t quite right without knowing a better answer. More to the point, without actively seeking out a better answer.

It was as if I didn’t want to know. Then I wrote The Keeper, and saw that I was doing something a lot of us do, and was keeping secrets from myself.

Not big secrets. It’s just that I wasn’t being myself, saying what I really think, giving my true opinion on things – so that no one was ever offended. In the end, the picture of who I am became blurry, even to me.

It’s a quandary to work so hard to try and make everyone happy and create a shell that makes sure I always feel somewhat alone.

The way out is to allow people to see who I really am, which makes me wonder how that will change everything about myself as a writer and an author.

Those two words do not mean the same thing, by the way. One is the art and the other is the business. But finding out I was working so hard to keep some things to myself has helped me to create a bridge between the two and that led me to the second part – the business.

Have you ever wandered around with a question about yourself that mystified you and yet, you couldn’t find the answer? That’s how I felt. Why do people love the books but no one can find them?

The answer was because if you, as a writer, aren’t comfortable with who you are, it will come through in what may still be a good story, but it will also come through in the packaging as an author and make it difficult for others to be sure if they’ll like the product. They’ll pass you by for something more familiar.

The Wallis Jones series belongs in the category of inspirational romantic suspense, which changes a lot of things about the packaging. That’s actually the easy part.

It will still take some courage and faith to become visible and hope it makes a difference. There’s no guarantee that it will – at least not in the way I want it to. Fortunately, I have just enough of whatever is needed to go ahead and try without all the answers up front. Often, that’s all it takes to be successful. More will be revealed.


The 'new' Me at the end of summer (that's a herd of guinea pigs in the background)


There’s an old saying, ‘write about what you know’ but a much more useful saying for me has turned out to be, ‘first figure out who you are and make peace with all of it’.

A little background would be useful here. I’ve been writing professionally for almost 25 years, at the dawn of the internet. I’ve been very successful at writing and have been published traditionally three times, written extensively for the Washington Post and had a syndicated national weekly column.

However, I never felt successful and instead ran around confused, trying to figure out where I fit in the profession. The confusion showed in the different genres I tried and eventually wore me out.

I knew all along that I was getting in my own way and costing myself sales but I had no idea how I was doing it or what to change.

Then, I learned the rule of the truest intention. The rule is, no matter what I claim I want to do or believe, whatever is my strongest underlying intention will rule. Mine turned out to be that I wanted to stay hidden and fade into the background. Too many questions might lead to too much exposure. That can make it difficult to become a well-known, and bestselling author.

Someone even recently pointed out to me that I do a good job of hiding in plain sight.

The result was that I had no practice at saying much about myself but I could give a pretty good description of everyone who was in my immediate orbit at any given time.

Is it any wonder that I was drawn to thrillers? Layer upon layer of misdirection that moves at lightning speed with a lot of fun thrown in on the journey.

However, the smoke has started to clear and instead of wanting to make sure that people know only the surface layer, I’ve learned how to open up and talk about myself.

The result is The Wallis Jones series and the first two books, The List and The Keeper, and an understanding that my books fall into inspirational romantic suspense and not political thriller. It’s a much better fit.

Another big revelation is that even though I’ve been writing for well over two decades, I’ve only been writing this series for a year and a half. That shift means, I’ve started over as an author, and need to view everything from that angle.

A lot of this self-awareness has felt very painful but those feelings pass and what’s left behind is clarity and a more-defined sense of self. It’s a view that I’m really learning to appreciate, even if I still like writing twisted stories of suspense that inspire and bring people together. More will be revealed.

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