Real love is more than hearts and flowers

On Valentine's Day 2005, I wrote an essay for this blog on the subject of true love. It was extremely well received, so I reposted it the following year.

Now several more years have passed, and I'm thinking it might be a good idea to run the piece  a third time.

So here it is. I hope you all enjoy it.
 

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I write romance, so you're probably expecting me to post something touchy-feely for Valentine's Day.

All right. I'll tell you about my husband of almost 30 years.

He has always been a thoughtful and romantic gift giver. Never in our years together have I told him what I wanted for my birthday. I have never hinted that I would like this or that for Christmas. So how does he come up with the perfect gift every time?

It's a mystery to me. I guess he just watches me and makes mental notes on the things that seem to interest me.

When I decided I liked bone-china teacups and brought home three from an antiques store, he gave me a teapot and started surprising me with additions to my collection. When I became interested in calligraphy, he bought me a beautiful fountain pen. He can tell you that my favorite flowers are roses, that my favorite chocolate is Godiva, that I like anything that comes in the shape of a heart, and that I'm crazy in love with Crabtree & Evelyn's floral-scented soaps and candles.

He gives me jewelry, like the tanzanite and diamond earrings he surprised me with this past Christmas, and he gives me things I didn't even realize I wanted, like the Amish-made cherrywood blanket chest he gave me last Christmas. And he'll give me a Hallmark card only when he is unable to find a clever, handmade one. (The photo above is the Valentine's card he gave me last year.)

He has never given me a household appliance or a set of new tires for my birthday, not even when we desperately needed those things. Even in the very lean years, there was always some special, personal, "girly" gift just for me. And he frequently brings me little treats for no reason at all: a CD of Celtic music, a handful of Lindor chocolate truffles, a bottle of rose-scented Italian ink for my fountain pens.

But lots of guys have romantic streaks, and that doesn't necessarily make them good husband material. So if you're a lady who's thinking about marrying, I'd advise you to look past the "romantic" stuff and consider whether your guy is offering you real, solid, I'm-right-here-and-I'm-not-going-anywhere love.

Let me give you an example of that kind of love.

When our boys were little, it was common for me to awaken in the night to sounds of retching in their bathroom. I would scramble out of bed, concerned and ready to do my motherly duty, but when I'd get to the bathroom I'd find my husband already on the job, sitting with a sick kid on the side of the tub. "It's under control," he'd say as he stripped soiled jammies off our son. "Go back to bed."

He didn't do it just once. He didn't do it a dozen times. He did every time. As I'd stand in the doorway trying not to gag on the stench of our child's vomit, my husband would say, "Just go back to bed. I'll put his sheets in the washer, and then I'll sit with him until he falls asleep."

That, people, is real love. My friends have often said they envy me for all the hearts and flowers I get, but they're missing the big picture. If they're going to envy me, I wish they'd do it because my husband is the kind of man who was willing to sit on the side of a cold bathtub in the middle of the night, dampening washcloths and murmuring soothing words as his kids tossed their cookies.

I wish every single woman out there would consider this example of true love before she plights her troth to the first man who gives her red roses on Valentine's Day. And before she rejects a good man just because he doesn't.

Smell my book!

I might have mentioned this before [snicker], but new reader favorite Her Minnesota Man is now available in softcover.
 

It's big and beefy (5.5 X 8.5 inches, and more than an inch thick), but it will still fit comfortably between your hands. It smells good, too--all nice and booky. And it has been meticulously proofread.

I opted for a larger typeface and also made sure there'd be plenty of space between the lines for ease of reading. And the chapter headings are pretty, don't you think?

To date, the e-book version of Her Minnesota Man has been downloaded more than 50,000 times. Many of those nice people have asked for a print version to put on their keeper shelves, and I'm happy to oblige.

So snag yourself a softcover copy right now at Amazon. Better yet, buy two. You can keep one and give the other as a Christmas gift.

Yeah, I know. Money's tight, and the book's currently listed at $9.99. Would it help if I told you I'm not making a killing on this project? After paying my printer and the Amazon sales commission, my profit on that $9.99 list price is a mere 42 cents. No, I'll never get rich this way. I'm simply making the print version as affordable as I can because I think the book deserves to be widely read--and not everyone enjoys reading e-books.

If you haven't yet read Her Minnesota Man, I hope you'll take a couple of minutes to browse the fantastic customer reviews at Amazon. Maybe then you'll decide to download the e-book or splurge on the print copy.

Honestly, I think you'll enjoy the novel. It's my best work yet.

 

One more thing. I'd consider it a huge favor if some of you would share this post. E-mail it to a friend or maybe stick it on Pinterest. Facebooking or Tweeting would be great, too. Warmest thanks!

A winter night's parade in Owatonna, Minnesota

Over the past several months, I've been delighted to hear from hundreds of readers who have confessed to falling in love with the town of Owatonna, Minnesota, as depicted in my inspirational romance novel, Her Minnesota Man. While readers familiar with southern Minnesota will understand that I fictionalized a few of the places mentioned in the book, they will also note that I included quite a few real-life details. Those of you who are curious about the real Owatonna might enjoy this Owatonna People's Press video of the 2012 Hometown Holiday Lighted Parade.

Before you click, let me offer a brief orientation: It's nighttime in Owatonna, and the camera operator is standing in the middle of downtown, with tiny Central Park at his or her back. We're looking north, up Cedar Avenue, and on the right of your screen you'll see one of the magnificent stained glass windows of The National Farmer's Bank Building (which I mentioned at the beginning of Chapter Four in the book).

Don't expect glitz and glamor from the Lighted Parade; the event is as warm and unpretentious as Owatonnans, themselves. So go make yourself a nice hot beverage and then sit back and enjoy seven unhurried minutes of a simple parade on a chilly winter's night in one of the nicest small towns in America.

(Kudos to Owatonna's fire department for the bang-up light job on their ladder truck!)

At last, a REAL book!

Her Minnesota Man, my self-published e-book, has become a big hit with readers. As of yesterday there were 96 Customer Reviews on Amazon, a whopping 87 of which are 5-star. I am just amazed--and incredibly grateful to the Lord and to all of the nice people who have wished me well in this endeavor.

 

Since the e-book's release at the end of May, satisfied readers have been asking for a print edition for their keeper shelves and to give as gifts. So I'm pleased to announce that Her Minnesota Man is now available as a trade-size (5.5 X 8.5") paperback.

 

Just in time for Christmas. (Wink, wink. Nudge, nudge.)

 

For those of you whose eyes aren't quite as sharp as they used to be, I've bucked the industry trend of using teeny-tiny print to conserve pages in longer novels. While I haven't quite approached true Large Print territory, I believe that nearly all of you will find this book easy on the eyes.

 

It could be several more days before the softcover is listed at Amazon, but you can order a copy right now from CreateSpace. And since your ordering directly from the printer will net me a higher royalty (because I'll have no Amazon commission to pay), I will happily knock three bucks off your purchase price. Just enter this code: J8PHGWSL.

 

Here's your link: https://www.createspace.com/4057375 (Don't forget the coupon code for your $3.00 savings!)

 

All the best to everyone. And if some of you would share this news, I'd be very grateful.

Coming soon: HER MINNESOTA MAN in softcover

I'm in the process of changing the bookcover of Her Minnesota Man at all of the online stores. Several people had complained about the old cover (which is always a risk when you put a face on a bookcover), and I needed a much higher-resolution image for an upcoming print copy, anyway.

Yes, I expect to have a high-quality softcover available well before Christmas. Stay tuned!

How to make Brenda's Emergency Brownie

Last month I invented this recipe for a super-quick and easy fudgy-brownie-in-a-cup and posted it on my Facebook page. Since that post has received tons of "Likes" and "Shares", I thought I ought to post  the recipe here on the blog, too. Let me know how you like this!

 

 

Is life getting you down? Do you need something sweet and warm and chocolatey, and do you need it RIGHT NOW?

Relax. In less than four minutes, you can be digging into one of my super-fudgy Emergency Brownies!

Here's all you need to do: Put a tablespoon of butter into a coffee mug. Microwave until the butter is melted. Then add two tablespoons of water, a good pinch of salt, and a drizzle of vanilla extract (about 1/4 tsp). Stir in two tablespoons of cocoa powder, three tablespoons of sugar, and three tablespoons of flour. Mix well and then microwave for one minute, or until it looks dry on top.

If you like, toss a few nut pieces on top. Then stick a spoon in your brownie and do what comes naturally. (Careful, it's HOT.)

 

Gaslight Coffee Roasters

If I lived in Chicago, I would have a regular table at this place for working on my novels while sucking down lots of lattes.

Next time you're in Chicago, check out Gaslight Coffee Roasters. Tell 'em Tristan's mom sent you.

Need a grin? Read P.G. Wodehouse

I've been a huge Wodehouse fan (say: "WOODhouse") for at least a couple of decades. Today I'm rereading A Damsel in Distress, and I just came across a delicious bit that made me drop the book and run to my computer to share.

Here we're looking in on George Bevin, who's feeling depressed. Even the weather is against him:

The sun had gone in for the time being, and the east wind was frolicking round him like a playful puppy, patting him with a cold paw, nuzzling his ankles, bounding away and bounding back again, and behaving generally as east winds do when they discover a victim who has come out without his spring overcoat. It was plain to George now that the sun and the wind were a couple of confidence tricksters working together as a team. The sun had disarmed him with specious promises and an air of cheery goodfellowship, and had delivered him into the hands of the wind, which was now going through him with the swift thoroughness of the professional hold-up artist.

I've felt winds just like that; haven't you? What a juicy bit of writing!