Interview with Betty M Reeves

Hi, everyone! It's been a while, but I'm excited to be back on the blog today interviewing a dear author friend of mine, Betty M Reeves, about her latest book, Expecting and Encountering the Messiah. First, about the book:

Rabbi Buni finds hundreds of passages in the Holy Scriptures pointing to the promised Savior. God has kept every promise except that one. When will he fulfill his word about sending the Messiah? After four hundred years of silence, with neither new prophecies nor divine revelations, many people have begun to wonder if the Almighty will ever reveal his chosen one. Still, those with hope wait.

An angel visits an old priest and announces that he and his wife will finally have a son. Their child will become the prophet who prepares the way for the LORD. The same angel reveals how a chaste young woman will miraculously serve God. She believes that nothing is impossible for the King of the universe. After a teenager and others have an encounter with angels, the teen rushes to find Buni with astonishing news: “The Messiah has come. We have seen him!”

Men claiming to be the Savior have come before, but this time is different. Can a child truly be the long-awaited Christ? Buni and his disciple set out to discover the truth. The child is certainly special, but is he the Messiah?

Soon, people will have to make a choice—become involved, remain on the fringes, or turn away and ignore the claim. But there is no time left.

The king makes a fourth choice. “Eliminate him!”

Find the book on Amazon.

Sounds gripping, doesn't it? I certainly thought so as I read (and helped edit) this novel! And now for our interview:

Where did the concept for Expecting and Encountering the Messiah come from?

I had finished The Story of Glops, an eleven-book series for young readers. I prayed for God’s guidance for what I would do next and reasoned that I might feel his direction in a couple of years. I planned to wait however long it would take—a year or two.

Two weeks later, I had a body-tingling epiphany when a former student told me about seeing the cave where Jesus may have been born. In another couple of weeks, our pastor’s sermon was about a shepherd, but he told it from the young man’s first-person perspective. I felt it was more confirmation that I should write about events surrounding the Messiah’s birth.

My love for biblical historical fiction comes from wanting to make scripture more accessible and understandable through imagination, historical research, and storytelling. When I began the research necessary for Expecting and Encountering the Messiah, I had no idea I would love the research itself. It became an unexpected pleasure. Discovering the world surrounding biblical events brings those stories to life.

 

Expecting and Encountering the Messiah is a fairly long book and encompasses so much research and several characters’ points of view. It’s an impressive undertaking and turned out so well! How long did it take you to write it?

From the day I felt the Holy Spirit tingle inside me until the book was launched was two years nine months. Unfortunately, I spent a great deal of time seeking a traditional publisher. The one who expressed interest wanted more inciting incidents spread throughout the manuscript. Since I preferred for my story to be more literary than thriller, I passed. Like my thirteen previous books, I created, managed, and self-published the book through Amazon’s Kindle Direct Publishing.

I had read The Poisonwood Bible, a novel by Barbara Kingsolver written from the viewpoints of five different characters. I thought, “I can do that.” But could I do it convincingly? I eventually used five major and five minor points of view.

 

What were some of your favorite resources for researching the story of Jesus’s birth?

The First Baptist Church librarian loaded me down with books. Some were loans, but most were books I could keep because they were either duplicates or withdrawn. Most but not all were non-fiction.

Since I had never been to Israel, I relied on books, photos, and online information. Typing what I needed and getting information from Google, or another search engine, concerning online resources was essential. I sited forty-three sources in my Bibliography.

During the time I was writing the novel, the media created a huge hubbub about the use of AI, especially in writing. If anyone uses any electronic device, such as a computer or cell phone, AI is present and anticipates every question, synonym, and resource desired. An author must be alert and diligent to use reliable resources. Soon, whether it’s good or bad, using a computer without AI will no longer be possible.

 

Although you stay true to the biblical account, you also flesh out the story with extrabiblical traditions and legends. What tradition or legend did you find the most interesting? What surprised you most in your research?

I’m answering these two questions together:

I was surprised to learn about the girls and young women who weaved tapestries,  priests’ garments, and sundry items for the Holy Temple. There were usually eighty-two weavers between three and twelve years old who lived in rooms very near the Holy Temple in Jerusalem. The girls typically saw their families on feast days.

 

Who is (or are) your favorite character(s)?

I enjoyed creating a backstory for Joseph. He was a kind man, strong, righteous, and chosen by God to be the earthly father to Jesus. Joseph was an artisan and stonemason. It is doubtful that he was considered a carpenter since very few trees strong enough to use for building projects grew in Galilee or Judea. Lumber for building was imported. Limestone was plentiful and was used in most buildings. Since Joseph worked with limestone, it is likely that Jesus learned the same trade from Joseph. In the gospels, Jesus talked about stones: stones into bread, stones will cry out, not one stone will be left, (corner)stone the builders rejected, stone broken to pieces, and throw the first stone. As for trees, Jesus mentions fig trees, good versus bad tree, and saw a little man in a sycamore tree. Jesus referred to himself as the true vine.

 

 

What do you hope readers take from your book?

My books are my mission. I believe they can help readers better understand the shared history of Jewish people, Messianic Jews, and Christian believers, while encouraging readers to explore God, scripture, the Spirit, and the life of Jesus more deeply.

I pray that readers learn what life was like in the Holy Land of 10 BCE to 5 BCE, and forward in the sequels. I hope they compare my researched fiction to the infallible Holy Bible and learn more. My desire is that my novel helps guide one person closer to the Bible and Jesus Christ.

In faith and trust!

Betty

 

About Betty:

Betty M Reeves has written her newest book, Expecting and Encountering the Messiah, a literary biblical historical fiction for adult readers. The novel begins in 10 BCE and continues through 5 BCE, exploring a world waiting for the promised Messiah. She is the author of The Story of Glops, an eleven-book biblical historical fiction series for children, middle grade, teen, and young adult readers. Two of her Glops books debuted at #1 in their categories on Kindle and Amazon, and four were nominated for Christian Indie Awards and Illumination Book Awards in Christian-themed books. She has written two music books: Melody Street: Story and Illustrations and Guitars & Folk Songs: An Anthology especially for children and parents or for students and teachers. Melody Street is listed in the internationally recognized catalog, Kodály-Related Publications. Betty is an author, audiobook producer, musician, self-publisher, and founder of Betty's Music & Publishing. Betty also writes short stories, one placed third in the Caprock Writers & Illustrators Anthology contest. Another short story will soon appear in the Mature Living magazine by Lifeway. She is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers, Texas Authors Museum & Institute, Texas High Plains Writers Association, Caprock Writers & Illustrators Alliance, Word Weavers Critique Group, Literary Ladies Book Club, Amarillo Master Chorale, and First Baptist Church. Betty holds degrees from West Texas A&M University and Texas Tech University. She and her husband, Glenn, are native Texans with a large family and a small Yorkie.

Learn more about her on her website.

Flash Fiction: Beware the Wolf

Originally written for A Very Bookish Celebration, a flash fiction anthology that is no longer available. Each story had to tie in with a holiday and a classic tale. A unique challenge for sure! This is a story about the Jewish holiday Purim and pulls in the biblical book of Esther.

Beware the Wolf

Poland, 1942

Shivers crawled over Riva Beniamin’s skin as Mama placed the covered basket in her hands.

“If anyone stops you, remember, these are just pastries for a friend.” Mama bent her knees so she could gaze into Riva’s eyes. “If they know about Purim, they’ll know you’re just delivering shalach manos. It’s normal. At least not unheard of, even in these times.” Mama’s lips rose in a little smile, and her fingers brushed Riva’s cheek. “You’re a brave girl, resourceful, smart. You’ll have no trouble. It’s just like bringing shalach manos to our friends before the war.”

Riva nodded. “Yes, Mama.” Being eleven, she usually felt very grown-up. So why, when she had such an important task, did she suddenly feel so young, so incapable, as if the only thing she could do was bury her face in Mama’s skirt?

“Remember, tell Pani Danzon only that the hamantaschen are filled with poppy seed,” Mama whispered. “She’ll know what that means.”

Riva nodded again, a firm nod that tried to shore up her courage. “Poppy seed” meant that hidden in one of these hamantaschen, beneath the dark fruit filling and the dough wrapped around it, was a coded message that would save the Danzon family’s lives.

Mama smiled one more time and straightened before enfolding Riva in a hug. “And, Riva, remember it’s Purim today. Remember Queen Esther.”

Mama meant it was impossible for Riva to fail, on such a day of heroism, with such a heroine to inspire her. Queen Esther risked her life to save her people, the Jews, when their lives teetered on the edge of a knife. How could any Jew do less, even for just one fellow Jew?

Yet as Riva stepped outside the door with her threadbare gray coat buttoned against the early March cold, she understood why some Jews gave in to cowardice—mistreating or betraying their people, siding with the enemy who sought to destroy them. Life was so very dear. Risking it as Esther did and as Riva was doing now meant putting other lives above your own, when all you wanted to do was keep yours safe.

But as Esther—and Riva—realized, some things were worth more than life.

Riva gripped the basket handle with all her fingers as she walked down the side of the cobbled street. Ragged three-story houses loomed over her, and all she saw of the sky was patchy gray clouds streaming over a watery blue. A biting wind slithered through the street, funneled by the buildings. The basket was comfortably heavy, filled with plump, triangular hamantaschen tucked beneath a cheerful red handkerchief.

Surely no one would guess that the basket contained an act of rebellion that could get Riva killed if seen by the wrong eyes.

She didn’t know exactly what the note said—it was best that way—just that it warned the Danzons they were to be arrested and should go to a set place at a set time to be spirited out of the city. Riva’s role was small but crucial. It gave her a sliver of relief to realize that if she were caught before she reached the Danzons, just she would be in trouble. The Danzons’ names weren’t written down, and they had a few more days to be rescued through other means.

Riva was the only one in her family who could deliver the message to the Danzons. David was too young at six years old, and Mama and Papa were too old, since shalach manos were traditionally delivered by a child. Even if they didn’t worry about the tradition, a child would be safer—draw less attention, seem less suspicious.

What are the chances that a soldier or informer would stop me, let alone search my basket, let alone find the note inside a pastry? Impossible! Riva assured herself as she hurried along.

She wanted to return to her family, the task completed, the thrill of success thrumming in her veins instead of this cold fear. She wanted to dress up in her homemade princess costume for their little Purim party that evening, enjoying their own baked treats. She wanted to celebrate and remember the victory God gave His people over two thousand years ago. She wanted to live through the day and come home safe. Please, God, let me accomplish my task.

As Riva rounded corners and followed crooked blocks along the familiar path to the Danzons’, her favorite lines from the megillah, the scroll of Esther they would read that night, whispered in her mind. She heard Mordecai’s words to his cousin, Do not think that you will escape in the king’s house more than all the Jews. For if you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance will arise for the Jews from another place, but you and your father’s house will perish. Who knows whether you have come to the kingdom for such a time as this? She heard Esther’s reply, I will go in to the king, even though it is against the law. And if I perish, I perish.

For such a time as this. If I perish, I perish. Riva drank the words and felt her soul’s thirst satisfied. This was an honor, risking her life for fellow Jews. She was doing God’s work.

Still alert for danger, Riva arrived at the Danzons’ apartment building a few minutes later. She entered through the creaky door, climbed dark, rickety stairs, and followed the hallway to the Danzons’ door. She knocked softly, so tense that she couldn’t manage more than that.

“Who is it?” came a muffled voice.

“It’s Riva with shalach manos.”

The door cracked open, and Pani Danzon’s face peeked through. “Shalom, Riva. Chag Purim sameach.” Her voice was still questioning.

Riva held out her basket. “The hamantaschen are filled with poppy seed.”

The woman blinked. “Oh. Oh!” She opened the door all the way and grasped the basket. “Thank you! God bless you, Riva.”

“May He bless you, too.” Riva nodded as she backed away. “Chag Purim sameach.”

The door closed as Riva ran down the hallway. She slowed at the staircase. It wouldn’t do to stumble, even though her heart floated so lightly that falling seemed impossible. She had done it. She had imitated Queen Esther, in her own small way. Baruch Hashem!

Glossary

Shalach manos – Sending of portions (Yiddish/Hebrew). The proper Hebrew term is mishloach manot.

Pani – Mrs. (Polish)

Hamantaschen – Haman’s pockets (Yiddish). These pastries are triangular to mimic Haman’s hat or his pockets. Eating these at Purim symbolizes the defeat of the Jews’ enemies.

Megillah – Scroll (Hebrew)

Chag Purim sameach – Happy Purim (Hebrew)

Baruch Hashem – Blessed be the Lord (Hebrew)

Flash Fiction: It Starts with Soda Bread

Originally written for A Very Bookish Celebration, a flash fiction anthology that is no longer available. Each story had to tie in with a holiday and a classic tale. A unique challenge for sure! This is a story about St. Patrick's Day and pulls in Robert Louis Stevenson's novel Kidnapped.

It Starts with Soda Bread

“Aidan! No green? How could you? This is a St. Patrick’s Day party!” Deirdre stood at her open apartment door, hands on hips.

Before his cousin could reach out and pinch him, which she was known to do, Aidan held up his left hand, brandishing his green wristband with white shamrocks. “No, wait!”

“Pushing your luck with me, aren’t you.” Deirdre laughed. In contrast, she wore a short green dress with black tights, an outfit from when she’d done Riverdance in high school. It was the perfect foil for her copper-colored hair. “Well, come on in.”

Aidan entered the small living room, serenaded by lilting Celtic music and the aroma of freshly baked Irish soda bread—their grandmother’s recipe, Deirdre had promised when she’d invited him. It was the soda bread that had brought Aidan more than anything else.

“Thanks for coming,” Deirdre said. “My parents are on their way, and so are yours, but they’re all running late. We have a half hour to kill.”

“Do I get the first slice of soda bread?” Aidan asked.

“Yes, you earned it. But we’ll wait on the sugar cookies. I used Grandma’s shamrock cookie cutter and iced them with green icing. Come look at the table.”

“It’s really cool you took over Grandma’s St. Patrick’s Day traditions,” Aidan said as he followed Deirdre into the dining nook. The table was clothed in green, and a giant platter of cookies and a huge mounded loaf of sliced soda bread with raisins took center stage.

“I can’t believe this is the first time we’re celebrating without her.” Deirdre’s voice was subdued as she placed a slice of bread on a shamrock-printed paper plate. “Let me get the butter.”

Soon, the cousins were perched on the couch savoring the soda bread. “She was the most Irish Irish person I knew,” Deirdre remarked with a smile. “Remember how much she loved green?”

“Even her car was green.” The slightest note of bitterness tinged Aidan’s words.

Deirdre glanced at him, brown eyes filled with concern. “Oh, Aidan, you haven’t gotten over that?”

Aidan swallowed his mouthful. “Remember my favorite book, Kidnapped? I feel kind of like David Balfour when his uncle betrayed him and had him kidnapped by the sea captain so he wouldn’t get his inheritance. Uncle Brad as much as promised me Grandma’s car, knowing how much I needed one and how awesome it’d be for me to have hers. He was going to give me a deal on it. He should have just given it to me. But by the time I’d saved enough to buy it, he sold it to someone else.”

Deirdre looked down and nodded. “I remember how hurt you were.”

“Just because he’s the oldest sibling doesn’t mean he could take whatever was of value.” Aidan smacked his plate down onto the coffee table, the bread almost flying off. “Our moms got virtually nothing, just what Grandma specifically willed to them.”

“He hurt all of us,” Deirdre said quietly. “But we need to forgive him.”

“He doesn’t deserve our forgiveness,” Aidan growled, staring at the table.

Deirdre slid her plate with its half-eaten slice of bread onto the table next to Aidan’s. She inhaled deeply. “That’s what forgiveness is—people don’t deserve it. That’s the whole point.” She waved at the painting of Saint Patrick that she’d hung on the wall for the party. “Do you know the story of Saint Patrick? Grandma loved it. He wasn’t even Irish, and hardly anything about this day relates to the actual Saint Patrick.” She touched her Celtic cross necklace.

“He was kidnapped, too, wasn’t he, like David Balfour?” Aidan asked, his brow still furrowed in anger.

“Yes, by Irish pirates when he was sixteen and sold as a slave in Ireland, way back in the fifth century. He eventually escaped and returned to Britain, but then he found God and felt called to go back to Ireland as a missionary. He confronted Druids and lit a miraculous fire to defy a king and did lots of other amazing things while spreading Christianity. God used him in a mighty way. But none of it would have happened if Patrick hadn’t forgiven his oppressors and shown them love by returning and preaching the gospel to them.”

Aidan brushed away the strands of brown hair that had fallen into his eyes, but he didn’t meet Deirdre’s gaze.

“To me, that’s what Saint Patrick’s Day is about,” Deirdre continued softly. “He was a Christlike man teaching lessons for us even today, far beyond the shamrocks and the color green and ‘Danny Boy.’”

“Did you invite Uncle Brad to this party?” Aidan asked after a moment.

“Yes, but I don’t think he’s coming.” Deirdre sighed. “Which is for the best. I don’t know if our moms are ready to forgive him, either, for how he’s acted after Grandma passed away. But I hope we all do, one day soon. Uncle Brad needs us more than he realizes.”

“I guess that is what God wants us to do,” Aidan said after yet another long pause.

“Saint Patrick obeyed that commandment of forgiving his enemies, and look what happened.” Deirdre fingered the flowing hem of her dress. “I think Uncle Brad needs God, too, and if we’d all start talking to him again and showing him love, he might have a better chance of finding God.”

Aidan had no time to reply before both sets of parents arrived. The party was a great success; though slightly sobered by Grandma’s absence, they all enjoyed themselves. Aidan, the last to leave, helped Deirdre clean up.

He quietly exhaled as he put plastic wrap over the soda bread slices. “Uncle Brad would have liked this party. Maybe we should take the leftovers to him. You know it kills me to say that because I usually took Grandma’s leftover soda bread and cookies home.”

Deirdre laughed and patted his shoulder. “Aidan, that is definitely a start. Who knows where it could lead.”

Black Friday Indie Book Sale

Two things:

First of all, I hope you had a wonderful Thanksgiving. Isn't it a blessing to have a holiday focused on gratitude? Such a good reminder every year of all that God has done for us. I am thankful for you, readers!

Secondly, here's one more thing to be grateful for: a book sale! I and dozens of other indie authors are running a sale on our ebooks (plus a few paperbacks): hundreds of ebooks for 99 cents or free! Visit blackfridaybooksale.com to find them.

All of my ebooks are marked down to 99 cents from Black Friday through Cyber Monday (Nov 28 through Dec 1).

The Road to Bremen

The Prayer Garden

Prairie Independence Day

The Promise of Acorns

Suit and Suitability

Family Reunion

England Adventure

Happy book shopping!

A Long-Awaited Sequel

Friends, for the first time in two and a half years, I have finished writing something longer than a short story! I'm so grateful that God allowed this to happen by giving me time with a (semi) clear mind to write and friends and family members who prayed for me and helped me brainstorm.

The story? It's the sequel to my springtime novella, The Prayer Garden, which was originally published in A Very Bookish Easter and is now a standalone. I had a sequel in mind ever since I finished it because I needed to see what would happen to Nyree and Connor, who ... well, unfortunately with sequels, they tend to give spoilers, so I might as well tell you. :) Nyree and Connor had just started dating at the end of The Prayer Garden. (You could see it happening, couldn't you, just from the book synopsis?) Anyway, relationships don't always go smoothly, and Nyree and Connor needed another book to figure things out.

Not to mention I needed a story set in St. Augustine, Florida, that explores this beautiful, historic city. The first draft, which I finished on Wednesday, November 12, is around 36,000 words, which makes it the longest draft I've finished since Suit and Suitability in 2017. There's a lot of work still to do (it's a first draft, after all!), but I'm so grateful to have the story on the page because you can't edit a blank page (I've tried; it doesn't work). 

Castilla de San Marcos - Photo by MrsScala on Pixabay

Anastasia Beach, St. Augustine, FL

When I started it last year, I wanted to publish it in 2025, but I don't see that happening. It's a summer story, so the best time to publish may be in June 2026, but we shall see. I'm not too discouraged about the delay because it's for the best of reasons---being a mom to my baby girl, who was born in April. Between “Little Love" and my editing projects, my creative writing time is narrow. But as I've been learning, anything can be accomplished little by little.

I can hardly wait to share more with you in the coming months! There'll be a title reveal, mood photos, excerpts, and more as I prepare for launch.

Novelists in November Anniversary: Interview with Bethany Willcock

 

In honor of the Novelists in November anthology’s one-year anniversary, I’m thrilled to host Bethany Willcock, one of its eleven authors. I thoroughly enjoyed her exciting and atmospheric mystery in this collection, featuring the endearing Greenwood family, and look forward to reading more of her works. We have similar tastes in books (such as classics and other books with rich, evocative writing styles that tell compelling stories), which is always fun to discover, so I just knew I would enjoy her writing as well, and I was definitely right! Now, let’s meet her.

Hi Bethany! Tell us a little bit about yourself and what you write.

Hi Kelsey! Thank you so much for having me, it’s an honour to be here. And Hi, Kelsey’s readers! I’m Bethany Willcock, author of “And As She Talked” in the Novelists in November anthology. I’m a South African Christian homeschool-grad who lives in a little seaside cottage in South Africa’s ‘garden province’, Kwa-Zulu Natal. Other than writing, I run a home bakery called BakerStreat and work part-time at a hair salon as well. I love everything vintage and cottagecore, or which pertains to cats and coffee. I write mysteries, mostly historical, and usually ones set in either the early Edwardian Age (Sherlock Holmes is a huge inspiration for my writing) or the 1940s/50s (Agatha Christie is another huge writing inspiration!). “And As She Talked” is set in 1947, two years after WW2 ended.

 

You have such an interesting life! What was your initial inspiration for “And As She Talked”?

I’ve been racking my brain trying to remember how I first came up with the premise for the story. I believe I’d always had parts of it tucked away in the dark recesses of my mind waiting for a future book to be inserted into. But I remember being inspired for the idea of an author’s fictional characters seemingly appearing to her while she writes after watching an episode of a TV show that dealt with a mystery involving mind games. Also, I couldn’t help but wonder what I would do if suddenly the impossible started happening to me; if cats began vanishing out of my own paintings and reappearing in others; or if something resembling Autumn Greenwood appeared in random corners of my house and scared me witless by quoting lines of her dialog while I was trying to write “And As She Talked”! So I thought it would be a fun and unique premise to explore, especially as it fit in so well with the “Novelists in November” theme. I love reading mysteries that have ‘explainable inexplicable’ events happening in them, such as ‘ghostly’ sightings that end up having a rational explanation (think Nancy Drew, or Jaime Jo Wright’s books). I believe everything mysterious has a normal explanation, and I so enjoyed writing a story that has a seemingly impossible answer but which turns out to be quite simple after all.

I know I was also inspired a lot by a stanza of Mark Van Doren’s poem, “The Storyteller”, which is where I got the title as well:

“He talked, and as he talked

Wallpaper came alive,

Suddenly ghosts walked

 And four doors were five.”

Your story premise captured me as soon as I heard it, and it did not disappoint. How would you describe Autumn Greenwood, the protagonist?

Autumn Greenwood is my favourite female MC to date. She did her bit during the war, and now lives in London. She’s a very neat and precise person, in the way she dresses as well as with her paintings. She’s a rather successful novelist when the story opens, however she’s been having some trouble getting inspiration for her new WIP, so she goes to Mossfern Lodge which is owned by her brother Noah and his two young daughters, to try to get some rest after WW2 and story inspiration. The important thing about Autumn is that she likes to paint her characters and scenery from her books as she writes, as this helps her form the story clearly in her mind since she struggles to remember faces. She’s also the 1940s’ equivalent of a crazy cat lady, and cats play an important part in the mystery she finds herself caught up in at Mossfern.

 

I loved Autumn. She’s relatable, like someone I’d want for a friend, and she’s such a sweet sister and aunt to Noah and his daughters. Was there a particular place that inspired Mossfern Lodge?

There was indeed! I’m so glad you asked, Mossfern Lodge is my absolute favourite setting I’ve created! I just wish it was a real place. I was inspired by my favourite classic fictional house and setting, Misselthwaite Manor from Frances Hodgson Burnett’s “The Secret Garden”. Mossfern is not anywhere near as grand a house as Misselthwaite, but the grounds and location (although I never gave a specific location in the book) are very similar. There’s no walled-up garden at Mossfern (that we know of, perhaps, one will be discovered in a future Autumn Greenwood book!), but there is a large pond with a mysterious willow tree growing on the bank, that plays a huge role in the story. I loved the setting of Mossfern so much that I drew a map of it, the house and the grounds, as well as the cute little cottage Noah Greenwood built for him and his children to live in.

Fascinating! I wish it were a real place, too, where I could go stay. So you’re a Sherlock Holmes fan … do you have a favorite Sherlock Holmes mystery?

Ooh that’s a hard one, there’s so many! Of the four full-length Sherlock Holmes books, hands down my favourite is “The Valley of Fear”. The twist in that one left me speechless. But there are so many of the shorter S.H. adventures that I love as well, so of those ones probably “The Dying Detective” and “The Priory School” would be at the top of my list.

 

Oh my, I haven’t read any of those yet! It’s great to know I have more Sherlock Holmes to look forward to.

Let’s take a different track and talk about the season that inspired our anthology. It’s fascinating to think about how the Southern Hemisphere months are in opposite seasons of the Northern Hemisphere. What is November like in South Africa?

Haha yes, so November here is actually the last month of spring! It’s a really pretty month because all the flowers are finally out in full force and there’s birds and butterflies everywhere and the sky is bright and the weather warm and sunny. It’s the last comfortable month for us before the dreadful heat of South African summer hits us!

 

How intriguing, and beautiful! Here in the Northern Hemisphere, it’s hard to imagine November as a spring month, but it’s much like our May. What is autumn like in South Africa? Do you have a favorite thing about autumn?

Autumn is my favourite season and I wait all year for it. It begins here in March, and ends sometime around the end of May when the weather suddenly turns cold. Sadly, at the coast we don’t see much change in the colour of the trees and leaves, but up in the Midlands where I was born and grew up autumn makes the towns there look like they stepped out of a Hallmark movie! My favourite thing growing up there, aside from leaping into leaf piles, was the Royal Agricultural Show that was held every May; it was a famous outdoor fair that featured all kinds of autumn-y things alongside the livestock, and now I always associate the smell of crunching autumn leaves with the Royal Show.

 

That sounds absolutely lovely. I’ll have to go find pictures! The color change of leaves is one of my favorite things about autumn, too.

To finish off with another bookish subject, what authors inspire you the most?

There are so many authors who’ve inspired me and helped shaped my writing over the years, but probably the original and main ones were the good old classic authors like Laura Ingalls Wilder, Frances Hodgson Burnett, Enid Blyton, Agatha Christie, Arthur Conan Doyle, Mary Roberts Rinehart, and Anna Katherine Green. If I can ever write a book that’s half as good as one of theirs, I’d feel that I’d arrived in life!

 

Those are fantastic authors, and you are well on your way, Bethany! Thank you so much for joining us today! 

Readers, thank you for joining us, too, and if you want to further connect with Bethany and check out her books, you can visit her website Vintage Volumes. She's also on Instagram here. Also, it’s not too late to read Novelists in November and enjoy it for this season. Here is the link; please do check it out if you haven’t already. If you have read it, what did you think of “And As She Talked”?

National Author's Day - November 1

Happy Belated National Author's Day in the USA! The actual date is November 1, but better late than never. :) To all the authors out there, past and present: I celebrate you. Thank you for writing the words on your heart and going through all the labor of producing books for others to read, whether for entertainment, information, encouragement, inspiration, enrichment, or any other worthy reason. You improve your readers' lives. When I think of all that I owe to authors, I can't even begin to imagine what my life would be like without their books. Especially the Book of all books, God's Word.

The Divine Author and countless human authors have guided me along the path my life is taking. I dared to write my own books because of their inspiration. Here is a condensed version of my author journey. 

When I was learning to print, I wrote random capital letters all over the pages of a spiral notebook. I just liked the look of them. I couldn't spell, but in my mind they were telling some sort of story. When I could read and write for real, let's say starting around the age of six, I wrote simple stories, illustrated them, and made books. There was Relics the dog who saved her mean new owner from a bear; there was a family of rocks and minerals led by the father, Captain Corundum. (We were learning about this subject in our homeschooling, and I decided it was fascinating enough to merit a story. Either that or I felt it needed to be livened up by one.) There was a simple story about a treasure hunt where each page revealed a new step in uncovering the treasure. These led into chapter books like Lilly the Burmese cat who got lost in Maine (story idea directly stolen from a favorite book of mine, Princess by Carolyn Lane) and a mystery where the sleuths were a group of six girls ranging in age from 10 to 13. Neither of those stories ever got finished. Thanks to encouragement from some loving adults, I dreamed of becoming the youngest published author ever.

That didn't happen, and good thing it didn't. But at least I kept writing all through my teen years, studying how to write a novel as part of my English curriculum. My major story idea from my teen years never got finished either, but it's still with me as the story of my heart, so maybe I'll rewrite it and publish it someday. It's a kingdom fantasy adventure about two young men and two young women who go on a journey to save their people, so completely different from what I write nowadays, but who knows!

After high school graduation, all I wanted to do was write. It was a calling I yielded to God and felt led to pursue. I did some online classes, read how-to-write-fiction books, and learned about self-publishing. I published my first novel in 2013, Family Reunion, the first book in the Six Cousins series. It was such a scary step, but I had good encouragement and solid author friends, and from then on I was hooked. Since then, I've published six more books and a couple of short stories.

I've continued learning and became a freelance editor. In these ever-changing times, there is always much to learn in order to keep up in the publishing world, and I know I'll never “arrive." My writing has ebbed and flowed, but the Lord has continued to lead me to write stories, and my heart aches when I'm not actively working on a project. I always pray over my writing and hope that the Lord uses my books to bless their readers and point to Him.

If you are an author, what is your story? If you are a reader, what is your favorite author's story?