A Layer of Dust by Vickie Stam

I know they're in there. Behind the closet door. They remain still. One on top of the other. Concealed by a thin layer of dust. I think of them often. They lay in wait wondering if I'm ever going to let them move on. I can almost hear them whispering. "You're not finished with us yet." Do they long to reach their journey's end? Sure they do.

It's not as if I've never felt the pleasure of launching a great story. Some of them have actually made it farther than that pesky little white golf ball that doesn't seem to want to leave the end of my club. I might not be able to drive a ball very far but I have sent a few stories quite a distance. I just can't promise that every protagonist will land smoothly between the pages of a prominent magazine or book. And it's not for my lack of trying on either account. There's a familiar cliché that reminds me to keep trying.

I will admit that I've struggled along the way when it comes to writing fiction. I reach a certain point and the word flow dries up. My train of thought abandons me. I wonder where the story's going. That's when my focus revisits my true desire to write non-fiction.

In saying that, there's a story that clings to my heart much like a child taking refuge behind their mother's legs. They often sneak a peek for one brief second before retreating back to the safety net of her legs. God knows I feel this story tugging at me. As soon as the words spring to life on my computer screen I feel that same urge to retreat. Like the child behind their mother's legs I too have my own safety net. I quickly tap the delete button and seal each word behind the wall of my heart.

For now I'll share an exciting time that occurred three years ago when a white envelope appeared in my mailbox. A contests return address embellished the envelope in bold red letters. I tore a piece from the bottom right hand corner and slipped my thumb inside carefully opening it to expose the letter. The paper swayed back and forth in my trembling hands. I read every word without taking a breath. My short story made it to the second round of judging. Unbelievable! It garnered a second look. That letter encouraged me to keep writing.

From there I wrote a poem, something I wouldn't normally write. It was just a fun little rhyme. I'm not even sure what prompted the idea. Then one evening while I was waiting for my writing class to begin the woman sitting next to me asked, "What are you reading?" When I told her it was a poem I had written, she asked to see it. I reluctantly handed it over. I could hear each word falling softly from her lips and then she chuckled out loud. I nervously gawked around the room.

"This would make a great children's story!" She announced.

I shifted in my seat yet smiled inside. She saw something I hadn't. That poem travelled a long way to a contest in Chicago. It didn't win a grand prize but it did generate more inspiring feedback.

Every now and then I blow the dust off my "great children's story" and enjoy reading it once again.

An excerpt from..... "The Farmer's Clock"

In the foyer there he stands
Sleek and tall he looks so grand
The time he cannot tell no more
Both his hands point to the floor
Every hour he does not chime
All he needs is one good wind
Dust collects on top his head
The farmer thinks that he is........

I'm not currently working on anything in particular and in time God will grant all that I need.

My Current Project - Shirley S. Tye

About three summers ago, I began writing a love novel – a totally different genre for me. I can’t remember now what possessed me to write such a story. I’ve always been interested in ghost towns and for some reason, Michael’s Bay, Manitoulin Island, Ontario struck my fancy and that’s where the story takes place.

Michael’s Bay was a lumber town in the late 1800’s. The town’s most prosperous times were during the mid 1880’s boasting a population of about 150 residents. Unfortunately by 1888, the lumber company was deep in debt and with its limited timber rites it folded. By 1900, the town’s population was meager and the last place of business to close was the post office in 1916. Today, the town is overgrown with vegetation but if one searches carefully a few foundations, cellars, and part of the King Street Bridge can be found.

I imaged what Michael’s Bay would be like today if it had survived as a small town. In detail, I drew a map of the town streets, shops, houses, a school, a church, and a cemetery. There’s an interesting story behind the placing of the cemetery on my map. The summer of 2013, while vacating on the Island, I noticed a new sign along the road to Michael’s Bay. The sign read “Michael’s Bay Pioneer Cemetery”. My husband and I parked along the road and took a walk through the cemetery. Forty-three graves had been found and marked. On our way back to the car, we met a man who is searching for the forgotten graves of pioneers. He told us about his research, the clearing of underbrush in the cemetery, and the identification of the graves. Then he showed us a map of Michael’s Bay. I was surprised to see that the actual cemetery was located on his map in the same location I had placed it on my fabricated map. I had no previous knowledge of the cemetery when I drew my map. I don’t know what this means; the placing of the cemetery on my map and meeting the man involved in uncovering the gravesite. But it certainly excited me and inspires me to continue writing the story.

Work, other commitments, and illness have prevented me from writing steadily on this project. In fact, it has been sitting untouched since last summer. I hope to have time this summer to concentrate on this novel and finished it by next summer.

The working title is “Bittersweet”. It’s a story of an older man’s love for his young wife, Fay. Henry, the husband, hides his heart condition from his wife and secretly makes plans for his wife’s future without him; financial freedom and a new husband. He doesn’t want Fay to suffer the way he had when his first wife died suddenly. He prepares his will and liquidates his assets. Henry meets Shannon, a young man Fay’s age, who is financially established and has just moved into town. He confides in Shannon. Fortunately, for Henry Shannon is attracted to Fay. Who wouldn’t be? She is a beautiful woman with a tender disposition and artistic talent. But Fay is loyal to Henry in life and in death making her union with Shannon…well, you’ll have to read the book.

Of course, there are many other characters in the story; their lives all intertwined in this small town.

Well, I’ve gotten myself excited just telling you a wee bit about the story. Oh, I can’t wait to get back to it.

Showcase Your Current Project — Epitaph, a novel — Janelle M. Baldwin

We are pleased to have Janelle Baldwin, an InScribe member and InScribe's webmaster, join us today as our Guest Blogger.

Janelle, what are you currently working on? I am currently working on a trilogy of novels called Epitaph. The first book is Epitaph, the next two are Mourning Light and Beauty for Ashes.

Is it a new project or something you’ve been working on for a while now? The books have been an ongoing project for about three years, but the idea was born almost ten years ago. When I started writing it, I expected it to be one book, but the characters had other ideas. It became one story spread over three books.

Is this a usual genre for you? Yes, I write mostly fiction. This is the biggest project I’ve undertaken. It’s been a huge learning process.

How did the idea come about? Many years ago, I asked my husband what he would put on my headstone if I died. The answer he gave me was commonplace and bland. I started to wonder about whether my life was really reflecting what I wanted it to and what I wanted my headstone to say in the end. The story was born out of that, but it really became a journey for my protagonist from agnosticism to faith, through love, loss, forgiveness, grace and peace. They are not fluffy books, they tend to lean toward edgy.

What do you want to accomplish by this writing? My hope is that it reflects the love of the Lord, demonstrating that He meets us right where we are. In the midst of joy and suffering, in good times and bad, He is constant and unchanging. He is reliable, He is trustworthy, and we are never alone.

What is giving you joy or frustration at this time? This has been a long process. I am currently revising the books to patch the holes and remove the tumors. So far, the patient hasn’t bled out on the table, so I think that’s positive. The first book’s rewrite is nearly complete, however, there are miles to go until I’m finished. The biggest challenge is not giving up. If I’d known the heights, depths and breadths when I began, I may not have started at all, so it’s been an amazing journey.

What are you discovering about how the writing is unfolding? Any surprises? Well, it’s different from what I thought it would be when I started out. One character I’d originally added as a minor character pressed for a more starring role, so I gave it to him.

Will you share a paragraph or two to give us a teaser? Kyrie (protagonist) has just received news of a friend’s suicide:

My thoughts are scrambled and incoherent as I shamble down the narrow hallway to my living room, footsteps dragging over the cream-colored berber. When I reach the sofa, I collapse against its soft, worn cushions. It offers a musty, emotionless embrace—exactly the kind that I need right now. I don’t want to feel. Or think. Or move.

I despise death. I do not like its taste, its foul stench. The rhythms that come of it are disjointed, lacking harmony. It is ugly. It behaves like a rude guest—one that I wish hadn’t shown up at all.

When do you plan to have it completed? (Laughs) Last year? No seriously, I hope to send the first book to my mentor and editor in the next month or so. Then I’ll work on aligning the next two with the first.



About Janelle: I have known for as long as I can remember that I wanted to be a writer, I was reading very early and have always had a passion for story and words. As a child, my teachers encouraged me to write and I was chosen as the school’s representative at the Young Author’s Conference three years running.

Over the years, I've worn many hats, including graphic artist, business writer, web designer and mother, but now I am finally pursuing what I love most to do—writing fiction. I feel the Lord's presence gently pressing me onward toward the goal. I’ve had moments of heartbreak and joy, and lam learning a great deal about mining, refining, perseverance and faith throughout this journey.