Fit for Service

My post is going up late this morning. Mostly because that turkey coma seemed to last the entire weekend. I just couldn't think of anything to write on Sunday afternoon.

But I'm home now from my 6:30 am workout at Curves. And that got me thinking about my 2009 New Year's resolution to get physically fit this year.

I started off great, thanks to the Wii Fit and my stationary recumbent cycle. I worked out five mornings a week. I dropped several pounds and was feeling stronger and less easily winded. Then I injured my right elbow. The pain was bad. It took regular massages and regular chiropractic visits and several months for the pain to fully subside. I couldn't do any exercises that used my arm. Even riding the cycle while gripping the handles that measure heart rate was painful. You guessed it. I slacked off. I got softer. The weight came back, plus some thanks to a change in medication.

This fall, I finally returned to using the Wii Fit and my cycle on a more regular basis, but I soon realized I needed to add weight training to the mix. And so I hauled myself off to Curves. I fell in love with the 30 minute circuit training method when my oldest daughter owned a Slender Lady studio. I've completed seven weeks now and am enjoying feeling stronger and more fit.

Which got me to thinking about being fit for service to the Lord. He's called us to be His soldiers. Having good physical health is important. So is being mentally fit. But if we aren't spiritually fit we'll find ourselves doing KP duty instead of being in the thick of the battle against the evil of this world. I don't know about you, but I want to be right on the front lines. I want to do my part to defeat the plans of the enemy and be fit enough to still swing my sword when the Lord calls me home.

I want to be a vital part of God's Army, the Army that brings good news to the afflicted, that binds up the brokenhearted, that proclaims liberty to captives and freedom to prisoners, that comforts those who mourn, and that gives garland instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and the mantle of praise instead of a spirit of fainting. I want to be among the people who will be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that He may be glorified. (Isaiah 61:1-3) Amen.

~robin

'TIS THE SEASON

Within less than three miles of my house, there are a Buddhist temple, a Muslim mosque, a Shinto shrine, a Jewish temple, a center for self actualization, two Catholic churches, a plethora of Protestant churches, and two cults. I've been told there's a center for Hindu studies, but I've not see it. I do know there are some active covens of witches, too. Some could call it diversity. Some could call it scary. Some could call it wrong. But it's where I live, and I'd be a fool to be unaware of what's around me. A warrior must be vigilant.

With Thanksgiving behind us, the "Holiday Season" officially launched today with "Black Friday." It used to be the Christmas Season--and in classrooms containing Jewish children it was Christmas and Channukah, but that became politically incorrect. Children stopped singing Christmas carols and The Dreidle Song and started having "winter break."

Who could complain? The answer is quite simple: Those who don't have enough tolerance to appreciate or respect traditions of others that have stood for decades. Like a nativity scene or a menorrah on public land.

They cite the supposed Constitutional arrangement for complete separation of church and state. Guess what? There isn't anywhere in the U.S. Constitution that wholly separates all issues involving church and state. The framers of our Constitution knew from history that when religious people provided a good checks and balances for politicians. In situations and countries where the religious leadership and the political leadership were one in the same thing, invariably corruption occurred. Never was it the intent of our leaders to deny the citizens of this country the right to exercise the expression of their faith in tangible, public ways. Somehow, the "separation" is being cited as rationale to rob believers of their rights.

Where are the lines to be drawn? I can hear the Adhan (the Islamic call to prayer) broadcast over the city with a loudspeaker five times a day. If my ears can hear, then why cannot someone else's eyes see the Menorrah and the Nativity Scene at the Civic Center? The nativity is sacred to me. If it is not sacred to others, it is still historical fact. Just as we have statues in public parks depicting historical events which had absolutely nothing to do with that particular plot of land, we still do so in the understanding that history is rich and lessons can be learned from it. If someone doesn't believe Christ Jesus was and is the Savior, they can still take a moment to look at the creche and recall from humble beginnings someone came and taught love and self-sacrifice.

I'd like my Nativity; I'm happy to have the Menorrah there, too. Why? The day I deny someone else the right to worship as they choose, I also put my own freedom of worship in jeopardy. The Festival of Lights is also a historical event, rich in heritage and meaning.

So I choose to say Merry Christmas to those who are also believers or uncommitted. It's a shared joy or a seed to plant. I say Happy Channukah to my Jewish friends because I respect their commitment to their faith. These are holy days... from which we got the word holidays. Next time someone wishes you Happy Holidays, cherish the true meaning for the season.

Diversity is a reality; it does not mean we are forced, though to relinquish our faith. Celebrate with conviction, with respect, and throughout the next month and into the New Year!

Love,

Cathy

Lost My Crown

Yes, I lost my crown.

No, not that one.








It was the one in my mouth. One on a back molar. I was just innocently eating a piece of brownie when I bit down on something hard. Pulling the piece from my mouth I realized it was a gold crown. My first thought was that it had to belong to someone else. I didn't feel it come off - my tooth didn't hurt (thank you Lord), and it just seemed to appear from nowhere.

I went to clean off the crown and brush my teeth and sure enough it was mine. Now at this point, I'm just glad I hadn't swallowed it, but then the questions started.

Why did this happen?
What do I do now?
How can I fix this?
How can I keep it from happening again?
Will this hurt?
Will it cost a lot of money?
Will this cause a lot of down time?

I realized that these were the same questions I always tend to ask whenever bad things happen. I always tend to want to over analyze a situation, figure out all the details, come up with quick fixes--when the best thing I can do is simply take the problem to someone who knows what they're doing.

So - in this situation - I called the dentist. He asked me a couple of questions. Then he preceded to tell me I could either get some Vaseline or Fixadent and put the crown back on myself - then see him on Monday for a permanent fix. OR If I didn't want to try that, I could just leave it off and be careful of chewing anything on that side and see him Monday. I opted for the latter. Why?

I've come to learn just how much I can mess up a situation by trying to take charge of something when I know nothing about it. Looking at that crown, I honestly couldn't tell which way it would even fit back on. What if I put it on backwards and then I couldn't get it off? What if I put it on and then it popped off again in my sleep and I swallowed it? Now, I'm sure some of you are very skilled and could have just put the silly thing back in place, but I had seen too many times when I boldly stormed the gates of life--unqualified--unprepared--and completely out of my element.

How many times could I have avoided complications to bad situations and hard times, if I would just take the problem to the One who knows what He's doing? God never demands I fix my life or take care of tragedies on my own. Often, however, He gives me free choice. You can take this action on your own.... OR You can wait on me.

I chose to wait for the dentist and I don't regret it. I'm still learning to wait on God. I wish it were a lesson I learned with ease or that I always go into without a second thought, but it's not. I am hopeful, however, that in time and with practice, it will come more naturally.

So now the crown is back on - in time for Thanksgiving - and I'm ever so thankful for the fact that everything is back as it should be. Well, except that my husband has to have rotator cuff surgery, and my son needs knee surgery, and my mother may need shoulder surgery. Hmmmm, how hard can it be to operate on someone?


Tracie

Thankful 'cause He's faithful

Praise songs, Jack Daniels, chocolate dessert with an interesting name, ear wax, and pig snouts... You have certainly been offered diversity in your reading this week! Today is Thanksgiving day, and it would make so much sense for me to blog about the holiday...but I'm not going to. Well, not completely. :o)

I always have my own separate "reason to celebrate" at Thanksgiving time. This year it came full-circle, because Nov. 23, 1981...which was a Monday...I became a mommy for the first time. On Thanksgiving Day, I brought my baby home, and what a celebration we had! She'd had a rough time getting here, and for a while the doctor wasn't sure either mommy or baby would see Nov. 24th...but there we were, sitting at the Thanksgiving table. (Well, I sat; Kristian reclined in her grandma's arms. My mom didn't eat a bite of her dinner because she had to hold the baby the whole time.)

I was young--two months shy of twenty-one--and completely in love with my little girl but completely clueless. I'd never been around babies, and now I was fully responsible for one. My marital situation wasn't the best, and if I'd had any inkling of all the changes that would come in the next months I probably would have run screaming for cover. (But mercifully God doesn't give us glimpses into the future. He just walks us through, one day at a time.)

When Kristian was three months old, she became very ill. The only time she wasn't crying was when I was holding her against my shoulder. The month of her illness was one of the most painful times of my life. I hurt so much for her, knowing how awful she felt. She was so tiny and helpless... and I was powerless to help her. Admittedly, I also hurt for myself. I couldn't put her down without her screaming in pain, which meant I couldn't sleep. I caught as much rest as possible sitting up in a chair with my arms locked around her little body.

At the height of her illness, my husband decided to move us to another town, hours away from my parents, and it terrified me. How would I possibly take care of her without my parents' help? But fortunately in our new town we found a doctor who diagnosed Kristian's illness. Within a month, I had a content, happy, healthy baby. (Have you noticed blessings often lurk where we least expect them?)

Shortly after Kristian's second Thanksgiving, when she was thirteen months old, our lives changed again. She and I found ourselves alone. Growing up in a Christian home, I always assumed I would have what my parents had modeled: a life-long commitment of loving, honoring, cherishing. But life doesn't always turn out the way we envision. Suddenly I was a single mom, without a job, relying on food stamps and a small government stipend to survive. Painful, painful days those...but growing days, too. (You learn to depend on God in ways you never imagined when He's all you have.)

Because Kristian's birthday always falls near (or on) Thanksgiving day, on this holiday I tend to look back and reflect on where she and I started and how far God has brought us. He has been faithful at every turn, meeting our needs and offering comfort and peace when it made no sense to feel comforted or at peace.

Lots of years have slipped by, and I'm still in awe at God's hands at work, gently guiding. Now that Kristian is an adult, we've moved from the mother-daughter relationship to include being friends. I still have the birthday card Kristian gave me for my 40th birthday (she was 18)--it made me weep when I read it. I memorized it: I don't know whether to say "Thanks, Mom, for being such a great friend," or "Thanks, friend, for being such a great mom." I kept it partly because I'm sentimental and I can't throw anything away, but mostly because it touched me. (I wasn't a great mom all the time--I blew it more often than not. But somehow she grew up wonderful in spite of me.)

I look at Kristian today--a beautiful young wife and mother with her hands happily full--and I thank God for His ever-presence. Kristian isn't the content, loving mommy she's become because of anything I did. I was young, inexperienced, battling past ghosts, and I fell flat on my face so many times... But God was there, always faithful, putting together the pieces of my shattered heart and molding my sweet baby girl into a strong woman of faith.

Her children are blessed to have her. (And so am I.)

God bless you muchly as you journey with Him! ~Kim

P.S. -- Thank you to Angie Hunt for filling in for me last week! And thanks to the readers who have prayed for my recovery. I'm doing well following my surgery. God is faithful!

Turkeys, ear wax, and other fun stuff

So I was looking at some very old recipes and thought I’d share a few interesting ways of preparing turkey since tomorrow is the Big Bird Day. As I was perusing a few of my books, I came upon the proper way to prepare a turkey back in the “good old days,” but the other things I stumbled upon are much more fun than fixing a turkey—besides, I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that the easiest way to fix your bird is to stuff it in one of those baking bags and pop ‘er in the oven. So, let’s forget the turkey talk and get down to the fun stuff like ear wax and cranberries and pig snouts.

Although you’ll discover I’ve added a few of my own comments in red, these helpful hints are from the American Frugal Housewife, published in 1833. I know this is a post you’ll want to print out and save so you can use these tips for years to come.

Tip #1:
Nothing is better than ear-wax to prevent painful effects resulting from a wound by a nail, skewer, etc. It should be put on as soon as possible. Those who suffer with cracked lips have found this remedy successful when others have failed. So for all of you who are saving up your ear-wax, you now know how to put it to good use. And if you haven't been saving it, get busy and start digging!

Tip #2:
A corn may be extracted from the foot by binding on half a raw cranberry, with the cut side upon the foot. Just think, after a few nights snuggled up next to a cranberry, your feet will be pain free! And if you still have too many of those cranberries hanging around after the big day, here’s another idea: Take the remainder, boil them with a little calf’s foot jelly, a double quantity of cranberry juice, sweeten it with fine loaf sugar, boil it up once, and strain it to cool. Viola! You have cranberry jelly.

Tip #3
If you happen to burn your hand while removing that turkey or pumpkin pie, a mixture of chalk and hog’s lard simmered together are said to make a good ointment for a burn. *Best to get that boiled up today so you’ll have it on hand when you’re cooking tomorrow. If you don’t have any hog’s lard on hand—just check below. I’ve found the perfect solution for you.

Tip #4
If you’d like something a little different, this should impress those Thanksgiving guests. Pig’s head is a profitable thing to buy. When well cooked it is delicious. Well cleaned, the tip of the snout chopped off, and put in brine a week, is very good for boiling: the cheeks, in particular, are very sweet. Hmm. Is that where the term sweet cheeks came from? I bet it is and I just never knew it. But, I digress. The head is likewise very good baked about an hour and a half. It tastes like roast pork, and yields abundance of sweet fat for shortening. Yum! My arteries are tap dancing at the very thought.

That's it for my holiday tips, but it is my sincere hope that you'll find joy as you celebrate with your family and give thanks for the many blessings God has bestowed upon this country. ~Judy

A Southern Thanksgiving without Jack Daniel's?

I’m headed to the grocery store this morning, Thanksgiving dinner menu in hand and hoping to avoid some of the last minute chaos and leg wrestling that will no doubt ensue in frozen food sections across America tomorrow.


Here’s my list that I made last night as Joe, Dad, and Kelsey were watching the Titans game. I literally “ducked in” to make the list, then ducked out again to continue writing:

Turkey/Brisket

Dressing

Sweet Potatoes

Gulliver’s Corn

Green Beans

Chef Hat Rolls

Frozen Fruit Salad

Gravy

Cranberry Sauce

Bread n’ Butter pickles

Mashed Potatoes

Pumpkin Pie

“Better than Sex” Chocolate Dessert

"___________________"


We’ll spend Thursday (and a chunk of Wednesday) cooking and baking all the above, getting everything ready for the Thanksgiving meal—that will be consumed in twenty minutes!


As I’m looking over the list this morning, I see people—precious people in my life—behind every menu item. For years now, my husband Joe has prepared the turkey, which I love. The more in the kitchen, the merrier! And he does such a good job too. This year he’s also cooking a beef brisket on his “Green Egg” outside. Delicious!

Our daughter and son (pictured right) with our two nephews at the Thanksgiving meal, circa 1992

The Dressing is Mom’s recipe (and her mother's), which I know so well by now that I just throw stuff into the Dutch oven and give it the final “taste test” before baking. The Sweet Potatoes is Aunt Lyda’s recipe (the recipe with pecans and caramelized brown sugar on top, no marshmallows for this crowd). Dad’s actually driving to Fayetteville Thursday morning to get Aunt Lyda and bring her back here for the meal with us. Can’t wait to see her again.

Gulliver’s Corn is Mom’s recipe, and it has cream and butter and other “heart attack on a plate” stuff in it, but hey…we have it once a year! The green beans are always fresh, and we snap them together the night before. Chef Hat Rolls are Kelsey and Kurt’s favorites, their special request. The Frozen Fruit Salad is Mom’s recipe and I love it because I can make it today and forget about it, which I usually do until half way through the meal. Henceforth, the above list that will stay faithfully tacked to my fridge until everything’s on the table and accounted for.

I still remember the first time I made gravy with Mom by my side. How is it that mine still didn’t turn out as good as hers, and she was right there with me? The Cranberry Sauce is the only dish I prepare that I don’t eat. I love cranberries but am not a fan of the sauce. Go figure… But my family loves it so it’s on the list. Bread n’ Butter pickles are a request from Joe. His family used to have these with their meal, so we’ve incorporated them into ours. Mashed Potatoes is on the list because my nephews, Doug and Dillon, love them, and they’re coming (along with my brother, Doug and his wife, Jackie) from Atlanta to join us.

Lastly, but most importantly, are the desserts. Pumpkin Pie’s a must, and it’s an old recipe from the 1800s that calls for scalded milk and sorghum molasses. Yum! I’ve been baking that for years. Next is the “Better than Sex” Chocolate Pudding dessert. I’m not sure if my family requested that this year because they love it, or they just love saying the name.

The “____________” in my menu represents the dessert I want to make that Doug and Jackie and the boys really like, but that I don’t know the name of yet. Which reminds me, I need to call my sister-in-law…

Our daughter and son (pictured right) with our two nephews, Thanksgiving 2009

In the end, my menu is really all about family, which is what Thanksgiving Day is about too. And it’s not just “blood relation” family, but the people with whom we share our lives. As I eat the meal on Thursday, savoring the different tastes, I’ll be remembering people--those still with me and those already Home--and will be thanking God for them.

I can’t sit down to a big meal like this anymore without anticipating the wedding feast we’ll share in the presence of the Lamb in the new Heaven some day. Prayerfully, some day soon! Food isn’t just for here, folks. And aren’t we thankful!

Oh, and what does Jack Daniel's have to do with Thanksgiving? Friday, the family's going to Gattistown (about an hour from Nashville), where my dad's family is from. We're going to see where the old home place used to be, visit the graveyard where family is buried, then we're going to Jack Daniel's Distillery (in nearby Lynchburg) for a tour. I wonder if they still give samples... I've actually been to the distillery before. A Southern rite of passage, I guess. Then we'll hit the antique shops in downtown Lynchburg. Let the fun begin!

Blessings to you this Thanksgiving,

Tammy

Stand in Awe and Worship

I'm writing this post on Sunday evening after returning from the Boise Vineyard's 20th Anniversary Party. About a thousand or so Vineyard family members ate together, and then we listened to stories from the past and saw wonderful video clips and realized afresh the mighty work that God has done through the years in the life of this church that was planted by a few families 20 years ago and now has somewhere between 2500 and 3000 folks that make it their church home.

And then we worshipped. Wow! Did we ever worship! 

Stand in awe and worship! Raise a voice and worship; Come adore The King of kings and Lord of lords!

I'm not sure that I stop often enough to look back and remember all that God has done in my life, all that He's brought me through, all that He's rescued me from, all that He's taught me. I wish I had video clips of some of those moments/days/years. I wish I could replay some of the prayers that have been prayed for me and see how God answered them. I wish I had captured on film some of those moments when I've heard God speak into my heart. But even without videos, I remember enough, I have experienced enough, to be able to say, no, SHOUT, "What a mighty God I serve!"

O Lord, remind me where I've come from and keep me moving in the direction where You would have me go. Use me right up to the instant You take me home to heaven. I don't want to just take up space here on earth. I want to be spent to the last drop in Your service. Let my life be like a love song to You. Amen.

~robin

Eyes & Ears Wide Open

Have you ever met someone who could put a spin on anything so they were honest, yet the message could be interpreted more than one way?

She’s a snoopy busybody.
He’s an eavesdropping spy.
I’m a listener and people watcher.

They’re all essentially the same thing, but the “spin” flavors reader expectation. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not have folks think I’m skulking about, hoping to latch onto what they might say and do for the sake of personal gain. It sounds so tawdry. Tacky. So let’s spin it a little. I’m an avid observer and find the things people say and do endlessly fascinating.

The truth is, I can’t not watch. Every author I know is blessed and cursed with the same wonderful affliction. We can’t help seeing a chunky toddler argue with a parent and hear a particular sentence or phrase of kid-logic that HAS to go in our book. We become name thieves when someone with a fascinating name comes to a book signing. The couple in the booth behind us at the restaurant progressively gets louder. We know why, too. An unusual gesture catches our attention. We go home and copy it, trying to decide how to describe it.

Things jump out at us that don’t register with others—like puns. Things grate on our nerves that don’t even seem wrong to others… like Orange’s 3 pounds/ $1. Sorry. I’m trying to lose weight. Why would I pay to take on an orange’s? Especially an orange since it looks cellulite-ish.

Irony jumps out at us. A current self-help book on co-dependency begins with the premise that one person cannot affect a change on another—they must come to realization and behavior changes on their own, without our help or interference. I can’t help wondering… if that’s the case, why did she write the book and why would I pay for it? (Actually, it’s an excellent book. Life is full of irony. I think writers and avid readers recognize it far more readily.)

Now put it all together. I went shopping for some Christmas and birthday gifts at a teens-and-twenties type store. A girl wearing a shirt with “as if I Care” emblazoned on it held up a shirt for a friend’s attention. Dressed in a pair of boyfriend jeans, a plain white T shirt, and a red-and-black plaid flannel shirt, that gal shook her head. “It’s too boyish. I’d look like his little brother.”

TIME FOR TRUTH: Would you have walked off, or would you meander in the vicinity for a minute or two more? A pair of jeans, two henleys, and a hoodie are all evidence of my decision. In the back of my mind, I already scripted two possibilities for the best friend: “If you look like his kid brother, he might finally talk to you.” OR “Actually, you do look sorta like his little brother.”
Come on. Be honest. You either wanted to know how she answered or you mentally wrote dialog, didn’t you? We can’t help ourselves. Anything anyone says or does is fodder for a book. Material abounds. Sometimes, it’s so outlandish, it won’t work in a book because it would be deemed “contrived,” or “too convenient,” or “Too improbable.” Other times it’s unprintable. For the most part, it’s plain interesting. Forget TV. I’d far rather people watch.

What did that friend say?
Nothing. Not a word.
What a boring friend!
Come on now and show your true colors. If you’d been writing that as a story, what did your best-friend character say/do? Because you can spin it any way you’d like!

Blessings,
Cathy

Angela Hunt: Considering The Present Through the Eyes of the Past, Part 2

This is a continuing article, the first half posted on Thursday, November 19. It was originally scheduled for Sunday, but turns out Tracie has two family members needing surgery so she was delighted to have someone fill in for her this week.

Kim and Tracie, you're in our prayers.

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Read novels set in your chosen time period at your own risk. I never trust that other novelists are committed to accuracy. Every historical novelist has to invent some facts, and how do you know the fact you’re trusting wasn’t invented by another novelist? You don’t.

What sorts of books should you read? Anything, everything. Sometimes children’s books can be helpful because they tend to boil topics down to the highlights. Sometimes children’s paper doll books give great insight as to clothing. Textbooks, biographies, and nonfiction books of all types will be useful.  Most useful of all, however, are books written in that time period. Yes, you can find them. I used several ancient Egyptian texts in my “Joseph” books. Original sources are worth their weight in gold to the historical novelist.

What you want in this macro-research effort is to gather information to help you understand the “big picture:” the world of your characters. As you begin to ingest this information, you may discover interesting facts you can use to develop your plot. For instance, as I was setting out to write a medieval novel, I learned that in the Dark Ages people frequently believed that twins had to be fathered by two men. Wow—what a dramatic development for my story. The perfect thing to drive a jealous husband over the edge.

Someone recently asked me, “Is it possible to research too much?” In a word, yes. Some writers, myself included, frequently suffer from the Fear of the Blank Screen.  If you enjoy research (and people who suffer from Blank Screen Phobia find almost anything more enjoyable than beginning the book), you can be tempted to research for months when a week would suffice.

Once you have an overview of your story world, you’re ready to begin writing your story. When you find that you’ve written something like this:

Jocelyn shoved her voluminous skirt aside and sat down to a plate of –

If you have no idea what Jocelyn would be eating at the Duke’s palace, insert something like this: [find out what’s on the menu at Duke’s!] and keep writing.

I’m a huge believer in getting the story down before you do any backtracking or editing. Once you have the first draft, you can always take a few days to do micro-research and fill in your brackets. Too many writers get sidetracked trying to fill in the blanks, and they never finish that first draft. Get that story down. You can always clean it up and flesh it out later.

Angela Hunt: Considering The Present Through the Eyes of the Past, Part 1

Our regular Thursday blogger is under the weather, so I've invited Angela Hunt to fill in. She's shared a long but wonderful post. I'm posting half today (be sure to click the Read More link to see the full piece) and the second half will post on Sunday. Don't forget to come back. [Update on 11/19: the second half will post on Friday instead of Sunday.]

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I’ve always loved historical fiction. I was in elementary school when I discovered a box of old abandoned books in our rental house, and I carried those books with me when we moved into a house of our own. Inside those corrugated walls I found copies of Jane Eye, The Nun’s Story, and Gone with the Wind . . . and I immediately fell in love with other worlds and other times.

I still have those old books, and I’ve read them many times over the years. One beautiful thing about historical fiction is its timeless quality.

I don’t know if there is an “official” definition for this genre, but you might say that historical fiction is a novel set during a distinct period in history. This time period might or might not be before the author’s time. For instance, The Nun’s Story, set in the years of World War II, wasn’t considered historical fiction when it was published in 1956, but it qualifies today.  I wouldn’t apply a historical fiction label to The Pearl, my novel about cloning, but my grandchildren might.

No matter how you look at it, historical fiction is a broad category encompassing a host of subgenres: romance, thrillers, the ‘history mystery,’ biblical novels, fantasy, “alternative history” (eg.: what if the South won the Civil War?), science fiction, westerns, time travel, and many more.  If you can imagine a story set in the past, you can create the basis for a historical novel and write it for juveniles or adults.

Who reads historical novels? I have observed a prejudice against historical novels among some readers, particularly if the novels seem daunting in plot, “history lessons,” or language (“too many thee’s and thou’s”). I am personally chagrinned whenever I open a book and find a chart of the protagonist’s family tree on the fourth page—if I’m going to need a diagram to keep up, I have to wonder if this book is going to be a relaxing, entertaining read.

But for many readers, historical novels offer more than an entertaining activity—they offer an enjoyable learning experience. As readers travel through the historical world with the protagonist and other characters, they enjoy the vicarious experience of living in another time, eating unusual foods, and observing unusual customs. A skillful historical novelist will populate her novel with lots of sensory details to enliven and enlarge the experience.