Question about Code of Honor

I've had a couple of people ask me a question about Code of Honor and since I don't know exactly how to reply to a comment - I decided to post about it.

The question is - how could Chad Allen be dead at the end of Book 2 (Above and Beyond) and then become a major player in Book 3 (Code of Honor).

The answer is - He wasn't really dead - just very bad off. They thought he was dead when Ferrante took his 'body' as he left the McLaughlin's mountain. But then he recovered. This was not spelled out and I'm sorry for the confusion. It's not my first mistake and I'm sure it won't be my last!

Did I mention that Murder by the Book is coming out in OCTOBER???

Most Excellent News!!!!!!!

You know the news must indeed be excellent since I am posting twice in the same day after not posting at all for like a month!!!! And it is very excellent news! My wonderful editor, Kirk Shaw, emailed me today but before I can tell you the good news - I have to give you the backstory (Butch hates this part of my storytelling process).

I have been working on the new Haggerty book, Murder by the Book, for almost a year. I meant to have it done by the end of last year. When that didn't happen, I told myself I'd have it finished by the end of January, then February, then, well you get the idea. Life kept getting in the way and I finally emailed it in to Kirk much later than I intended. I was really hoping for a fall release - but knew that because of my tardy submission it would be a miracle if the book came out before next year. Sure enough, when Kirk gave me the good news that the book had been accepted for publication - he also gave me the bad news that it wouldn't come out until January 2010.

This was bad for several reasons. A January release means that you miss the entire Christmas buying season - which is the best book-buying market of the year. And even though I do write books for the fun of it - my family depends on the royalty checks that I receive in February and August. The February check reflects sales from the previous July through December. A January release would mean that the proceeds from the sale of the new book wouldn't make it to me until August of 2010. And that's a long time from now. But the MAIN problem was that readers wouldn't have access to the new book until January.

So, today Kirk emailed me with the miraculous news that they were able to work Murder by the Book (possibly by another name - I haven't heard for sure about the title yet) into the fall lineup and it will be released in October 2009!!!!! Which eliminates all of the above mentioned concerns.

Like I said, excellent news!!!!

Mother of the Bride

Well, now three of my four daughters are married. I won't say that I've given them away - since I'm still holding on for dear life - but I have watched them enter into a different stage of their lives, where I will be on the fringes instead of a central character. We have been blessed with three good sons-in-law and I'm thankful for that. But a part of me still aches for those little girls that my three brides used to be. Thank goodness for grandchildren. They do ease the pain associated with watching my children grow up.

It was a wild few weeks around here, getting ready for the wedding. We don't have a huge house but were having lots of out-of-town guests. I'm not the world's best housekeeper and Butch isn't a handyman. So there were lots of little projects and a whole lot of cleaning that needed to be done before everyone arrived. I went a little crazy with paint - I even painted two floors - and finally Butch suggested that the dishes in the sink might be more of a priority than painting baseboards...

We moved Clay and Andy out of Emily's old room (which I longingly call the guest room although it never really will be). Cathy cleaned it spotless for Josh and Laura. Then we moved all of Grace's stuff to her apartment and set up a second twin bed in the room she's been staying in since last August when she returned home from Provo (in our house setting up a bed means stacking the appropriate number of wheat boxes and topping them with a mattress). I couldn't find the other twin dust ruffle - which covers the boxes - so I made one (again getting off the straight and narrow path that leads to a clean, orderly house).

Finally we had Grace's room set up for her and her former roommate, Hillary, who came from Provo for the wedding. We made Emily a bed on the floor in my room and put the boys on the couches in the den. Later Clay asked if anyone had seen his bag. I asked if he meant the garbage bag that had been sitting in the den. He said that was the one and that it was full of all his clothes. Since he was now a man without a country - he had put all his clothes in the bag so he would have access to them. I thought this was funny but Andy said, "Actually, that's a pretty good idea. I don't know where any of my clothes are now." We had left his folded clothes in his drawers but had moved his hang up clothes to the closet in Grace's room (where he and Clay will stay now that all the company is gone). In the process he lost track of his belt and never did find it until after the wedding. We were looking at some snapshots taken of the wedding party and Andy shook his head and said, "I don't look good in any of those pictures without my belt." Poor Andy.

Hillary left on Sunday (Andy took her to the airport right after he finished giving a talk in Sacrament Meeting). Laura, Josh and Harrison left on Tuesday morning and my niece, Ruth-Anne, left on Tuesday night.

So, today I'm a bundle of emotions. Relief mixed with grief. Happiness mixed with sadness. Trying to count my blessings and forget about the things I wish were different.

Murder by the Book (excerpt)

This is an excerpt from the new Haggerty book that I've turned in to Covenant (but it hasn't been accepted yet - so I don't even have a guess at the release date).

Murder by the Book
Chapter One
The day started out with a speeding ticket and ended with a murder. The ticket was only a minor inconvenience because the issuing officer was my ex-husband, Cade Burrell. He just pulled me over so he could try and finagle a date. He was wasting his time because I didn’t agree to go out with him and I have no intention of paying that ticket. The murder was another matter entirely.
My name is Kennedy Killingsworth and I live in the town of Midway, Georgia – home to four thousand people who don’t have anywhere better to go. I’ve never been able to get a satisfactory answer as to why the town is called Midway. It’s not halfway between anywhere as far as I can tell – unless you count despair and hopelessness.
Midway is so small if you blink during your drive through town, you’d miss it. And until a few weeks ago if you kept your eyes open, all you’d have seen was a blur of broken glass, drooped awnings, and peeling paint. For as long as I can remember Main Street has been pitted with potholes and lined by abandoned buildings. The only interesting thing about Midway was a stop sign that used to hang from the branch of an oak tree at the intersection of Main and First. But that was replaced years ago with an ordinary, stuck in the ground sign. My father said it was done in the name of progress. If that was the goal – the new sign was a failure.
I have two sisters, both older, one father and one mother. My parents live in the farmhouse that has been in the family for generations. I’ve always resented those original Killingsworths. If they’d had just a little foresight they would have pushed on past Midway and settled a mere fifty miles away on the Gulf coast. Then my parents would own valuable beachfront property instead of a few acres of mediocre farmland in southern Georgia.
My father is a quiet man who delivers mail for a living, tinkers with old cars as a hobby and fishes when he needs time away from my mother. My mother is an enthusiastic Christian and a consummate homemaker. She believes that true happiness can be achieved only through heavenly sanctioned matrimony followed after a respectable passage of time by pregnancy and childbirth. Both my sisters are married so she constantly harps on my single-status. She tries alternately to set me up with eligible bachelors or reunite me with my ex-husband so I can have children. You’d think she’d be satisfied. She already has four grandkids, but apparently in my mother’s circle grandchildren are like stocks and bonds – the more you have the more respect you command.
When I received the afore-mentioned speeding ticket I was on my way to the Midway Library, where I am the director, cataloger, purchaser, custodian and owner of almost every book on the shelves. I’ve been obsessed with books all my life. I blame this mostly on the fact that I live in the dullest spot on earth and during my uneventful childhood I found escape from the paralyzing boredom through the written word. My mother didn’t understand my need for books, but she allowed it. However, when my collection surpassed 500 books she said she had reached her tolerance limit and demanded that they leave her house.
So I built some shelves in my grandpa’s old barn and lined each volume up according to the Dewey Decimal system. Friends and neighbors came by to borrow the books and I signed them out in a spiral notebook.
For several years I did a respectable business and shortly after I graduated from the local junior college, the mayor of Midway came in to look around. Mayor Cook, who runs a towing business in addition to his civic responsibilities, said he was impressed with what I’d been able to accomplish and offered to give me the use of an empty trailer near the public pool where I could set up a real library for the town.
He went on to explain that once the library was established the county would be required to pay my salary and the monthly rental for the trailer. The mayor owned the empty trailer and was probably more interested in collecting rent than promoting literacy in Midway – but I didn’t care. Finally we were going to have a real library and I was going to be the director. I thought I’d died and gone to heaven.
The Midway Public Library has since expanded into two trailers – and my dream is to someday boast five trailers like our more prosperous neighbors to the south. Their trailers are arranged in a star-shaped design. We’re a T at the moment – but I’ve spent hours thinking of ways to add trailers in eye-catching ways.
I arrived at the Midway City Library fifteen minutes late, thanks to Cade, and found Miss Ida Jean Baxley waiting. She’s my mother’s next door neighbor and one of the most irritating people on the face of the earth.
“I thought the library hours were ten to five on Mondays,” Miss Ida Jean whined the minute I got out of my truck. She has a perpetual string of saliva between her lips that moves up and down as she speaks but never seems to break. Since childhood I’ve been morbidly fascinated by this phenomenon.
“You’re correct about the hours, Miss Ida Jean,” I returned in my fake-nice voice. “I was delayed by car trouble.” I figured this wasn’t a complete lie since I had been driving and Cade definitely qualified as trouble.

Mother's Day

No matter who we are, no matter what stage of life we're in - surely Mother's Day is a wonderful time to reflect, to enjoy and to hope.

I have had so many excellent examples of motherhood in my life. The most important - of course - was my own mother, Dorothy Anne Walton Brannon. My grandmothers Ruth Lund Walton and Grace Vann Brannon have also been very involved and influential in my life.

But today as I celebrate motherhood - I wanted to tell you a little about the incredible children that have been sent to my home. I have chosen short little stories about each one that I hope will help you to get a glimpse of what fun children they were and what fine people they are.

Cathy has taught me many important lessons, but one that I remember vividly (because it haunts me) took place when she was about 10. I did a lot of cross-stitching back then and for mother's day she found a wooden hoop and a three-yard piece of pink gingham (that I used to make baby quilts) in my material box. She cut a circle right out of the middle of the material and cross-stitched "Mama" with white thread. Then she mounted it in the hoop. When she gave it to me I was upset about the wasted fabric and pointed out the fact that you couldn't see what she'd sewn because of her thread color choice. I'll never forget the look of disappointment on her face. I realized that the material was unimportant but Cathy's feelings and her efforts were priceless and apologized. I kept that little cross stitch hanging on my wall for many years as a reminder.

Laura was seven years old when my cousin, Lara Bennett, got married. We flew to Dallas so my girls could be bridesmaids and while we were visiting with various relatives, some of her older cousins asked what she wanted to be when she grew up. Without hesitation she said, "I want to be a mom." Then, after a few seconds of thought, she added, "And if I'm a mom I'll be too busy to do anything else." She got some practice at being a mom when Clay was born. We put the crib in her room (for lack of another option) and I remember several times seeing her walk past my door with a bottle in her hand in the middle of the night. She had gotten up, made him a bottle and was going to feed him without even waking me up. She has now realized her dream and is a full-time mom with a precious little boy of her own.

Jamie is our oldest son and until Tommy was born (when he was 4) he was the only boy and had 3 sisters. So life was hard sometimes. One day right after Grace was born I was feeding her and he came to sit by me on the couch. He showed me a nickel he had found and I suggested that instead of spending it - he should save it. Sensing a teaching opportunity, I explained that when he grew up he'd have to work hard and save money so he could have a wife and family. From my carefully worded lecture - he got that he needed money to buy a wife and said, "I'm going to buy a wife with my nickel." I figured it was hopeless to try and correct this misconception at that point so I just nodded. He sat by me for a few more minutes. Then looked up at me, opened his hand to expose the nickel, and said, "Do you want to buy a wife?"

Grace has always been soft-hearted and one experience I remember well was when we had a litter of puppies. The mother dog wouldn't feed one puppy and kept pushing it to the side of the dog bed. We tried feeding it milk but it wouldn't swallow and finally we accepted that it was just a matter of time until the puppy died. We were all sad and a little disturbed and I was anxious for the whole bad experience to be overwith. We kept checking for signs of life, dreading the moment when we'd have to pick up the dead puppy and dispose of it. Then Grace said, "Can I hold it til it dies?" I was so touched by her compassion and willingness to put her own fears aside to comfort the dying puppy if possible. So she held the puppy until it's short life was over.

Tommy has always been one of my most friendly and independent children so I didn't expect any problems from him when he started a half day 4 year old kindergarten class. But when I was dropping him off on the first day another child started crying and so Tommy did too. I tried to console him - promising that I'd be back soon. But between sobs he said, "When you're gone I won't be able to remember your face!" He finally agreed to stay and the next day I brought him a picture of our family to keep in his cubby and he looked at whenever he got sad. He still carries pictures of home around with him in Ethiopia and shows them to anyone who will let him.

Emily, being the youngest daughter, has been a big help to me. She is very mature and competent. I remember her third grade teacher, Mrs. Thrash, telling me that any time she needed something done - she gave the assignment to Emily. In fact she said, "I honestly believe if I told Emily to go to China and back she could do it." Over the past three weeks she's had to do so many hard things while adjusting to college life and being far from home. I'm so proud of her and I know that Mrs. Thrash was right. Emily can do anything.

Andy is quiet and laid back but witty. One day we were in WalMart and we saw a very old lady who had a terrible cough. She was driving herself around in one of those little scooters the store provides with a basket in front. She coughed constantly and it sounded horrible. We helped her get some things that she couldn't reach on high shelves and then hurried on to finish our shopping. We passed her again on the way to the checkout counters. She was surrounded by WalMart employees. Apparently she had coughed so much she had thrown up. It was embarrassing and I felt so sorry for her. On the way home I was still disturbed and told Andy that if I was ever that old and that sick one of my kids better do my grocery shopping for me so I didn't have an experience like that in WalMart. Andy replied, "Don't worry, Mom. By the time you're that old we'll have you in a nice home."

Clay, being the youngest of eight children, has had a lot of good examples and many hard acts to follow. When Jamie was a teenager he used to talk about the brothers buying land together in Colorado so they could have a cattle ranch. They would sit around talking about the houses they would build and how their wives would be friends and their children would play together while the brothers herded cows. One day after Jamie left for college I was talking to Clay (who was 5) and begged him to promise that he would live with me forever. With complete seriousness he looked at me and said, "I can't do that, Mom. I have to go to Colorado with my brothers."

Climbing Every Mountain - Fording Every Stream - Following Rainbows toward my Dream

I had the opportunity to drive Emily across the country to Idaho so she would have a car while beginning her college experience. I dreaded the thought of driving that far (again), but looked forward to spending some quality time with her. And we had quite an adventure. We were supposed to leave on Thurs (April 16 - Emily's 18th birthday), but then I got the idea we could leave on Weds afternoon right when I got out of school and at least make it to St. Louis. So that's what we did. We had a good drive on Weds afternoon and made good time all the way to St. Louis and even drove on about an hour or so to Columbia, MO. We stayed at a dumpy Motel 6 but it was cheap and we weren't there long so it was okay. Since we were relatively 'fresh' and since I had a gray stripe down the middle of my head, I made use of the hotel's bathroom to color my hair. The plan was to get up early on Thurs and drive to at least Evanston, WY and if we felt like it-- push on another hour to Ogden and spend the night there. Laura and Josh were leaving Salt Lake on Friday morning (heading back to Rexburg where they hope to be in permanent residence), so if we made it to Ogden we could just wait for them in our hotel room and then follow them to Rexburg.

So we got up early on Thurs and drove and drove and drove and were doing really well until we got to Cheyenne, WY and then it started snowing. It was big huge wet flakes and they weren't really sticking to the road but they got clogged on the windshield wipers so they didn't work right and I couldn't see (besides the fact that the clouds were down really low like fog and trucks were going extremely slow so I had to watch real close to be sure nothing was in the road in front of me). We drove on like that until Laramie and finally the snow was collecting on the road in a kind of dirty slush. It was still wet but there was enough of it to be slick. Then we went over a mountain and saw that on the other side of the interstate hundreds of cars were trapped trying to go up the mountain we'd just come down. Two trucks were stuck at the top and couldn't go on. Visibility was terrible and even though it was only 5:00 in the evening and we had planned to drive for HOURS still, I was afraid to go any further for fear we'd get stranded on the road. So I got off the interstate and we checked into another dumpy Motel 6 - this time in Laramie. And then we got snowed in. There was at least 8 inches of snow on the car the next morning. On the weather they said some areas got 4 FEET.

Of course I didn't have any real shoes with me - since I'm from Alabama and down here April means SPRING - so I went outside with towels tied around my feet covered with Walmart sacks. Emily and I each had half of the pizza box from our dinner on Thurs night and scraped the car while standing in snow up to our knees. A plow came through and got the roads pretty much clear so we went and checked out the road conditions while filling up with gas. The roads weren't great - lots of the brown slush, but they were passable. So we went back to the motel and were packing up to go when it occurred to me that I'd better make sure the interstate was open. It wasn't. We were stuck there. We sat around all morning miserable and not knowing when we were going to get out (they said on TV that it might be Sunday).

It kept getting clearer - no sun but brighter - and the little bit of snow still on the car melted and we got hopeful. We could stay in our room until 12:00 and then we were going to have to pay for another night. So at 11:30 I called the Laramie police and asked if they knew when the interstate was opening. They said not at all that day. So I paid for another night at the dumpy Motel 6. At about 2:45 Emily checked the Wyoming Road Department Website and it said I-80 was open. We immediately threw our stuff in the car and checked out. They wouldn't give me even a partial refund but said if I-80 wasn't really open we could come back. We got up on the interstate and the lights were still flashing saying it was closed but a few other cars were on it so we went. And we made it all the way to Pocatello before we got too tired. We drove in to Rexburg on Saturday morning (instead of Friday like we'd planned). We were NOT traveling with Laura and Josh and Harrison (they went on without us on Friday) and we were afraid that all the BYU-I offices would be closed. But that was not the case. We were able to do everything on Saturday that we would have been able to on Friday except get Emily a bank account - which she handled on her own after I left (at 3:30 am on Monday - that's when I left - not when she got her bank account!!!)

Anyway, I'm sure you're wondering how the Mountain Climbing title figures in to the is post...

While Emily and I were driving we listened to the Sound of Music soundtrack about a hundred times and the song Climb Every Mountain became particularly meaningful to me. I've always liked it - but while driving across the country (in adverse conditions) and with a son in Ethiopia (Heaven help me) and a daughter about to get married (that Heaven help me thing) and 4 little grandchildren (so far) who have to grow up in this evil world and two more sons at home to raise - it's easy to get overwhelmed and tempting to say 'it's too much - I can't do it'. But the words of that song - talking about how in order to reach your dream you have to give all you have - all the love you've got - for your whole life - rang true to me. I started out my married life nearly 30 years ago with a dream to have a large family and to raise them to be productive, happy, tax-paying, God-fearing people. I was blessed with 8 beautiful children and if I acheive my greatest dream - I will spend eternity with them and my husband. Many times during this life process I've reached roadblocks or deadends or snowstorms which have required an adjustment in course. But to quote Maria from the movie, When God closes a door, He opens a window. So when the path was blocked, I've had to climb what seemed like mountains and ford hypothetical streams and follow figurative rainbows - working toward that goal of eternal togetherness. It's been a lot of hard work and I know I have more work ahead of me. As the song says if I want to reach my dream I'll have to work 'every day of my life for as long as I live'.

So now when I get discouraged or overwhelmed or just tired I hum a few bars of that song and press forward. Maybe something good did come of all that driving in the snow...

Living the 'Good Life'

I had an experience a few weeks ago that I wanted to share. I work at an elementary school. I'm a teacher's aide and I basically work with children who need a little extra help. I was in a fourth grade class and saw a student who looked like he was having a bad day. I tried to encourage him to sit up straight and get ready to have a good experience in class. He looked up at me and said, "Why are you always smiling?" I didn't realize that I smiled that much. In fact, I think I'm pretty stressed and irritable a lot. So I asked him, "Am I always smiling?" He said, "Well, you always look happy. You must have a good life." I thought about it for a minute and nodded. "Yes, I do have a good life." "Well, I don't," he said. "I hate my life."

I talked to his teacher later and she confirmed that he does have some challenges to deal with. Ever since then I've been haunted by his face, his situation and his words, "I hate my life." There's not much I can do to improve things for him. I pay particular attention to him while I'm in his class and I smile whenever I see him in the hall. And he's always in my prayers.

But there is something I can do about me and my attitude. I'm trying to appreciate my blessings more and complain less about the stresses in my life. I'm trying to remember that I am happy and I do have a good life - even if it's a busy one. I'm thankful to that fourth grader who has helped me to see things much more clearly. And I hope that one day he will have a happy life too.