Keeping Promises
The one and only time I ever fainted was when I was sixteen attending the Buffalo County Fair in Mondovi, Wisconsin. It was a hot July day. The scent of hot dogs and cotton candy wafted through the air. I had a raging kidney infection, but I had promised to take my almost seven-year-old brother to the fair that afternoon. Keeping a commitment, honoring a promise, not disappointing someone, were all values drummed into my head and they took precedence over “get well first.” It was the last day of the fair, so sick or not, off we went. I didn’t go on rides with him but popped him into the tilt-a-wheel and something with bumper cars. He’s always loved cars. (For his 70th birthday my sister-in-law gave him a NASCAR run in Daytona that got cut short due to a hurricane but hey, it was a thrill none-the-less). About two hours into the fair afternoon, feeling worse, I put him on the kid Ferris wheel and told myself that when he finished that ride we’d head home. But as I watched him I felt myself getting light-headed and breathing hard, little stars flickered before my eyes that rapid blinking didn’t chase away. I looked around and saw my aunt Eveyln moving toward me. “Thank God,” I told her, “Craig’s on the Ferris wheel. I’m going to faint.” She put her arms out and I fell into them which is the last thing I remembered for quite some time.
I woke up in the hospital. I never have been sure how I got there. Sepsis wasn’t far away. The doctor who came in had prescribed medication for the infection earlier in the week. Obviously, I wasn’t over it and he wasn’t too happy to hear I’d been at the fair. He said something that stayed with me through the years though of late I have forgotten. “Even animals know that when they’re ill, they need to stay in their burrows. You’ve got to take care of yourself.”
His words seemed at odds with those childhood phrases teaching integrity like “Keep your commitments; your word is your bond; don’t break promises and don’t make promises you can’t keep.” All wise when your temperature isn’t 104.
My brother got home safely. He had a great day at the fair. And looking back, I did too, walking away — almost — with a little life-long wisdom.
I don’t always heed those words of years ago but I am today. So while not dealing with a raging infection, the context of tending to oneself leads me to decide that this will be my last Story Sparks until late September. (For those interested, you can review archived musings at jkbooks.com.) I’ll post now and then on my Facebook and Instagram accounts. I may even learn how to create a reel. But I’ve canceled events that would require overnight care for Jerry. Being away for longer than a few hours just doesn’t seem to be the best use of my time right now. Fortunately, the Marshfield fundraiser in memory of a beloved educator Nancy Girt and a scholarship in her name will still happen on September 25 with Author/poet Barbara Drake. Driving One Hundred). (Coosbayschoolsfoundation.org for tickets and donations.) When I committed to be their speaker last year, I had that caveat of I might need to cancel. I’m not sure that’s the same as not keeping a promise but the stone in my stomach when I had to call feels just as heavy.
Disappointing people is not the title I want attached to me and yet I’ve decided not to disappoint Jerry which takes the higher ground. We had the kind offer of use of the respite hospice house for five days for Jerry’s overnight care but he really didn’t want to go there where people didn’t know his needs. I get that. And while you may not be suffering from an infection, most of us have demands on us, commitments we’ve made that we sometimes find are harder to keep without compromising ourselves. Keeping one’s word matters. And keeping promises to ourselves matters too. In that UCLA response to stress for women, the words “tend and befriend” beat out “fight and flight.” I always thought of it as tending and befriending others. But I think the image of tending to ourselves and being our own best friends carries the manner I want to help me navigate during this time. May you remember to navigate on behalf of yourselves as well.
The Indigenous kayaking adventure celebrating the removal of four dams on the Klamath River began this past week. Click the link for photos. They made me smile. I love seeing the next generation finding new roots to plant on a mighty river, now restored.
Spreading the Word
A British on-line magazine ReadersHouse.com, recently asked for an interview about my writing and specifically about Across the Crying Sands. Here’s the link for those interested.
If you do read it, let me know if you think the introduction might have been generated by AI? Just curious. I mean, if my mom was still alive, I might have thought she wrote it, it was so complimentary.
Another link you might like having is for pre-ordering With the Enduring Tides. Yes, you may preorder the second book in the Women of Cannon Beach series at 40% discount. It will release April 21, 2026. Also good news, if you have friends you’d like to order the first book to give, it is 30% off. And the third book, as yet untitled, will come out in November of 2026 so you won’t have to wait that long for the final book. Speaking of titles, I’ve been collecting possible titles from readers on my Facebook author page with this photo I took while launching book 1 in June.
I have some great ideas! I’d love to hear your ideas for a third title. I’ll send them all to my publisher. My personal working title is Beyond the Stormy Seas from my encourager, researcher, reader, friend, Suzy Wintjen, but I don’t have the final say on the title. I have to submit at least 10 possible titles. Thanks in advance for your help.
Across the Crying Sands Available for 30% off and free US shipping
With the Enduring Tides Available to preorder for 40% off and free US shipping
Poetry for Joy and Grief
Some of you know I’m a closet poet, having written “wretched little poems” from the time I could read the Dick and Jane books. I rarely show them to anyone though a couple of women I’ve written about inspired events where I read a poem or two. Marie Dorion’s “Walks Far Woman” was framed and hangs in the little St. Louis church in St. Louis, Oregon where there’s a stone as a memorial to her. (A Name of her Own). Eliza Spaulding Warren inspired “Stalwart Woman” for her survival skills (The Memory Weaver). As a novelist, I now slip my creations into books as though characters have written them. (A Sweetness to the Soul, What Once We Loved, A flickering Light, Across the Crying Sands) and often get requests to quote them which is gratifying. Mary Gerritse, of my latest book, did write poetry herself as we found an ode to Haystack Rock among her things at the Cannon Beach History and Museum Center. I had her “write” another poem about the puffins on Haystack Rock that my younger brother (of the bumper cars/NASCAR fame) is putting to music. In this Cannon Beach series, I have the honor of also including a poem by poet Dana Huneke-Stone Amuse-Bouche: A touch of Melancholy. During the launch in June, she and I were an act together and I loved it when especially at the library in Tillamook, people applauded after her readings. Poetry does that to us, reaches in deep and brings something to the surface that blesses our spirits, helps heal our wounds. Another poet I’ve come to love is Andrea Gibson who passed away July 14th. A Youtube video includes Andrea reading a poem titled “Love Letter from the After Life.” It’s moving, poignant and spoke to me of so many whom I love who I’ve lost. Have your tissues handy. But be prepared to be healed.
Word Whisperings
I have three books for you, two of which will come out in September but one is available now.
Tell it True
by Milree Latimer
Luminare Press, 2025.
Milree Latimer has penned another book with two women – an academic in 2012 and a loyalist from Upper Canada during the colonial period. Tell it True is her latest. Milree’s works are a blend of history and contemporary search for meaning in the lives of her characters who easily step out of another generation and decade to enrich us. I love the work of this former professor and this one promises to be another winner. (She’s a neighbor!)
The Broken Weathervane
by Laura DeNooyer
Scrivenings Press LLC, 2025.
The Broken Weathervane is the latest from Wisconsin author Laura DeNooyer. The release day is September 2 (my brother’s birthday! He’s sure showing up in this newsletter.) Laura creates such charming characters that engage us on the first page. I like the intention line for this book that I zipped through wanting to find out “things.” “Two co-workers are after the same information. One wants to publish it; and the other has good reason to keep it hidden.” How’s that for intrigue and there is intrigue, and history (mental health in the 1950s plays a role) and a very contemporary love story. I hope there’s a sequel.
Orphans of the Living
by Kathy Watson
She Writes Press, 2025.
Last but not least is a debut novel from Hood River, OR author Kathy Watson, titled Orphans of the Living. It’s a story set in the 1930s and is being compared to Kristin Hannah and John Steinbeck’s works as well it should be. “…An impoverished white family escapes –with the help of black sharecroppers – from a vengeful Mississippi plantation overseer intent on lynching them…the Stovals are haunted by the past, the children they’ve left behind and the daughter they cannot love or protect.” Kathy writes with singular images, fresh metaphors and with a deep understanding of hard scrabble living at the beginning of the twentieth Century. The link is to Waucoma Bookstore in Hood River. They host many regional authors and they will have signed copies to purchase on September 26, the release date.
Finally, a note about The Frozen River that I highlighted last month by Ariel Lawhon, about a midwife named Martha in Maine in the 1700s. A writer friend of mine scolded me for not telling you all that the character was based on a real midwife, Martha Ballard, and that she did keep a diary, found and translated and made publicly available by Pulitzer prize winning author and professor Laura Thatcher Ulrich through her non-fiction book A Midwife’s Tale. I didn’t share that because I hadn’t yet read the author’s notes where that remarkable author and her work was highlighted. Incidentally, if I had listened to The Frozen River as an audio book, there’s a very big chance that there would have been no author’s notes recorded. At least on most of my audio books, the author’s comments aren’t included, a fact that makes me sad because I spend a goodly amount of time hoping to share with readers what was fact and what was fiction. As did Ariel Lawhon. Her sharing of discoveries and accolades to Professor Ulrich and how Ariel deviated from A Midwife’s Tale was fascinating. You can purchase A Midwife’s Tale on Amazon. Martha Ballard’s diary is out of print but can sometimes be found. Ariel Lawhon said her copy cost $350.
Events
August 16, 2025 – 5:00pm, Sunriver Books and Music, Sunriver, OR. Always a great venue. More information to follow.
September 14, 2025 – 2:30-4:30pm, The festival is the 12th-14th, Jane will be part of the local author gathering on Sunday afternoon the 14th. Ticketed event. Jane will speak for 5 minutes (along with other authors) with lots of time to chat afterwards.
Rupie’s Renderings
Hi. Here I am at the end again. Well I have something to tell you. There is an F-word that cannot be spoken at our house. It can’t even be spelled because I know how to spell that word. Just having my mom say it drives me dizzy. My mom says I have a singular gait when I hear it and start searching, trotting down the hall in pursuit. I don’t know about that because the only gate I’m aware of is the one that closes off the back yard. What’s so special about that? Anyway, the F-word (I’ll whisper it) is fly. My mom will sing “I once had a dog, he swallowed a fly. I don’t know why he swallowed a fly, perhaps he’ll die.” She says it’s from a song about an old lady who swallowed a fly who kept swallowing more things like a spider to get the, well, you know. She doesn’t sing it often. I also go ballistic when she gets the fly swatter out. I even bite it, especially if there is a little black thing on it. I can’t stand those things! But my mom says that if I couldn’t stand something, I’d pass out and since I haven’t fainted yet, I must be able to stand it. It’s summer and my work is never done. I hope you have an F-word free summer. I’ll see you in the fall.
The Finish
That’s it until the September. I’ll miss chatting with you but look forward to touching base through Facebook and Instagram. This is me taking care of me. My author friend Milree Latimer wrote recently from personal experience, (I’m paraphrasing) that having a loved one in hospice care paints life with colors from a muted pallet. Thanks for letting me paint the picture I want to remember of my Jerry and my better self. Take care and remember to tend and befriend yourselves. See you in September!
