Lessons From the Groundhog

As we rang in the New Year with eyes propped open, waiting for the ball to drop on Time's Square, Mike and I discussed our New Year's resolutions and promptly went to bed. Yep. Wild party at my house. I am not getting any younger, and every year I make the same lame promises to myself to exercise more, drink less, and write another book. If you have read my books, you know how I do enjoy my wine, and you have possibly read about my past cycling adventures. At least I can say I am holding true to my writing. And who has time to exercise when you work full time and write part time? Writing is a sacrificial habit; the houseplants die, the dust piles up and the tennis shoes sit by the door yet one more day. And suddenly New Year's is over and I realize it is Groundhog Day.

Sadly, the new year also brought the passing of Mike's mother, something we thought we were prepared for, but we were never ready to let her go. Then again, those we truly love never really leave us. Pat-Pat, as she was known by her grandchildren, family, and all who came to know and love her, left us celebrating her life with a grand entrance into Heaven, amidst a spectacular thunder snow, the likes of which I haven't seen in about 33 years, since Jockey's Ridge got 22 inches in 1980. It must have been some welcome party going on up there that night; one which the Flinn family won't ever forget.

So, naturally, as our sadness and readjustment has left us somewhat suspended in time on these gray and dreary days in January, I sit wondering, where did the month go? I might as well have been the groundhog myself, hibernating in a hole somewhere, waiting to stick my head out, in search of a little sunshine and a welcome surprise around the corner called Spring. I know it will be here in six weeks or less. I just wasn't expecting winter to be such a blur.

I have taken some of this reflective time to sit at my keyboard, beginning a new friendship with brand new characters. We are somewhat shy with each other at first, as can be expected. It will take us a while before we can really let our hair down with one another and discover the interesting souls we are deep within these new pages. Like the groundhog, my new characters are taking a risk and sticking their heads out, a little at a time. We will get to know each other over time, and in the end we will be sad when we eventually part ways. Unless there is a sequel. :)

Merry Christmas!

 A Christmas Tree Story

by Mary Flinn

Abigail Sprinkle is one of my favorite students. I know that as a teacher, we’re not supposed to have favorites, but I do sometimes. Besides, she’s one of those eight-year-olds who make you think you are talking to an adult. As usual, I saw her on a Friday. It was the last Friday I planned to see her, as she’d fixed her R sounds and would be leaving speech therapy after just a few months of practicing. And as usual, our conversational practice centered on what we’d be doing over the weekend. She was planning to decorate her Christmas tree. I smiled. I mentioned that I’d be going to the mountains for mine this weekend, as part of my thirtieth anniversary trip with my husband.

Part of our trip would include a book signing at the Banner Elk Winery on Saturday. I’d written a trilogy of novels about a girl who lives in my fictitious mountain community I call “Snowy Ridge” and whose family runs a Christmas tree farm. I didn’t tell Abigail that since my husband had been without a job for a few months that I’d saved our cancer screening refund check to use for dinner at the Gamekeeper, one of our favorite restaurants in Boone. We’d planned to use some Hilton Honors points to stay one night at the Hampton Inn. Mike had earned plenty of points over the last thirty years he’d traveled. To some, our trip might not have sounded like much of a thirtieth anniversary celebration, but it was a welcome getaway for us, and all we could swing for the time being. We were excited nonetheless.

I pulled myself out of my thoughts and realized then that Abigail was describing the choose-and-cut Christmas tree farm where she, her mother, and grandfather had been to cut theirs. She couldn’t remember the name, but “It’s in Boone,” she said. “It’s a family business. We go there every year. The people are so nice and they have a daughter named Abby, so they always remember me. When you cut down your tree, they write your initials on the trunks of the trees, so they’ll remember whose tree is whose, but they let me write my whole name. They have three different sizes, and they have white tags and green tags and yellow tags, depending on the size tree you want.”

“Oh, it sounds so nice. I wish you could remember the name of the farm,” I said. “Maybe I’ll call your mom and ask her.”

The rest of the day got away from me and I forgot to call Abigail’s mother. Mike and I left early the next morning to head up the mountain toward Boone, on our way to Banner Elk for the book signing. As we drove past the Blue Ridge Parkway entrance, more and more choose-and-cut signs appeared with the cheerful red and green writing, making me wonder what would be the likelihood of ever finding Abigail’s farm. I told Mike the story, as we marked different ones we might check out on our way back home the next day.

The book signing was profitable and fun, as we met several couples who were celebrating birthdays and taking a special time out to do a wine tasting and relax before the holidays, like we were. We ran into one of the couples at the Gamekeeper later. While we waited for our table in the bar, we met a nice couple from Greensboro, who knew our daughter’s boyfriend’s family. The woman wanted to support a local author who writes about Snowy Ridge and bought a whole set of books. Mike went to the car to get them for her. Dinner was fabulous, as we’d come to expect, and the dimly lit rustic little place was decorated with grapevines strung with white lights and large ornaments hanging from the exposed beams in the ceiling. The hostess had decorated our table with confetti in the shape of a heart.

On Sunday, as we were driving down the mountain, we tried to remember the tree farms we’d seen. There were so many, we couldn’t go wrong. Suddenly Mike and I both spotted a sign at the same time; Snowy Ridge, next left, it read. “Snowy Ridge!” I said, grabbing his arm. “Oh, we have to go!” Mike laughed, knowing how the details of my stories sometimes have a way of making their way into our real lives.

“Snowy Ridge it is, then,” he said, and he turned off the highway and took us up the twisty road toward the farm. After several minutes we reached the top of the ridge and turned into the lane that wound around past a house where we came to a beautiful overlook and parked the car. We were the only ones there. It was cold and still as we looked around for some sign of life. The mountains stretched across the clear blue sky in front of us, where rows and rows of Christmas trees descended down the hill. Looking at the view to the right of us, the New River snaked its way through the property below, between a few houses and pastures.

“Do you think they’re open?” I asked, when a friendly voice called down from the house we’d passed.

“Hey y’all!” said a woman, waving and walking toward us, dressed in a pair of jeans, a sweat shirt, and a ragged faded pink baseball cap.

“Hey!” we greeted her in return.

“You haven’t been here before have you? I’m Judy,” she grinned, stretching out her hand for us to shake. We introduced ourselves and I explained about the books and how the name, Snowy Ridge struck us as we were coming down the mountain. Judy asked what the books were about and told us she loved to read, so we agreed to barter; she’d knock the price of a book off the cost of the tree we chose.

“What size tree do you want?” she asked.

“A nine-footer,” said Mike and she gestured down the hill.

“Well, you’ll want to go down a ways and turn to the left. There are some nice ones with white tags. We’ve got white tags and green tags and yellow tags, but you’ll want one with a white tag.”

Chills ran down my arm and I glanced at Mike. “Wait! Do you have a daughter named Abby?” I asked Judy.

“No, but I’ve got a granddaughter named Abby.”

“Do you know a little girl named Abigail from Greensboro who was up here last weekend?”

“Yes! She was up here with her mother and her grandfather. He’d just turned eighty-two! I remember them. They come every year.”

“And she writes her whole name on the tree?”

“Yes!”

“She told me about your place but couldn’t remember the name of it. I forgot to ask her mom, and here, we drove right to it. Out of all the farms up here, we managed to find her farm!” We were all grinning by now, and shaking our heads.

“Then it was meant to be!” said Judy.

After searching through so many perfect trees, we found our tree, and then Judy and Nancy found us after a little hollering back and forth. Nancy held back the bottom branches out of the way with a pole while Judy buzzed it down with her chainsaw. The perfect tree landed with a soft thunk on the ground. Mitch came over and dragged the tree to the flatbed as we talked about how serendipitous it was that we’d found Abigail’s Christmas tree farm out of all the places we could have gone. The sun shone and a soft wind blew our hair as we all gazed out over the mountain to the river, wondering. We talked about books, and stories, and how things seem to happen for a reason. And how from here on out, we will return to Snowy Ridge each year to find our perfect Christmas tree.

And we did.

A Forever Man book launch event

Join my family and me as we launch A Forever Man, the fourth book in the series, beginning with The One. Our celebration will be held on Tuesday, November 20th from 6-9 at Bistro 150 in the Oak Ridge Commons at the corner of highway 150 @ 68 in Oak Ridge, NC. Autographed copies will be available for $20. Stay and dine with Randy and Vicky at one of Oak Ridge's fine eateries!

If you miss the party and would like to get a copy for the holidays, come to the St. Francis Day School Holiday Market on Saturday, December 1 from 10-4 at St. Francis Episcopal Church, 3506 Lawndale Dr. in Greensboro, NC. Do some holiday shopping and treat yourself or that reader on your list to a book for some down time over the holidays.

If you miss both events, shop my website without leaving the house! www.TheOneNovel.com

Sneak Peek into A Forever Man

Coming in November, 2012

A Forever Man, by Mary Flinn

He had awakened, jarred by the dream, shuddering in a sweat and unsure whether it were real. Seconds ago, they were making love on a beach, the tide washing warm over their legs. He had been lost in her. Of course, she was so different, awakening new, explosive sensations within him. It would have been the perfect dream, except for one harsh reality; the woman in the dream was not his wife.

There are friends and there are lovers; sometimes the line between is thinly drawn.

As they approach their tenth wedding anniversary, Kyle and Chelsea Davis have it all; the perfect marriage, charming eight-year-old twin boys, and successful careers. Life couldn’t be better for either of them.

Enter Elise Masters, a former model, now single mother, who joins Mountaineer Builders as the firm’s new interior designer. With eyes like his favorite river, and a spellbinding personality to match, Kyle is soon swept under, despite his attempts to stay in control.

A Forever Man takes a deep plunge into marriage and love, exploring the fine line between love and friendship. Can Kyle befriend Elise, and maintain a professional relationship with her, while staying true to the woman he loves? Told alternatively from Kyle and Chelsea’s perspectives, this poignant love story takes all three characters to the brink of understanding infidelity and its consequences.


 

 

 

On Fifty Shades of Grey...and Contractual Agreements

All right. I don't in any way think that E. L. James needs my help in selling or promoting her books, but I feel compelled to consider the implications that are ominous in the making of the movie version of Fifty Shades of Grey. And yes, there is no question whether there will be a movie or three, as the case may be, but who will be cast and what the rating will be? So much passionate discussion has been provoked not only from her trilogy of books already, but the movie itself. I'm under the impression that despite the fan-made movie trailers, the movie does not have a screenplay yet, nor a cast of characters. That's not to say that fans haven't taken these matters into their own hands, and have put together a convincing display of fantasy movie trailers to tease each other into an Anatasia-like frenzy.

The frenzy brings several points of interest to mind: Why is there such a debate among women in particular, about whether to read or not to read this book?  What is the film to be rated? and What will the actors agree to do and not to do in this movie, ironically implying the need for a contractual agreement much similar to the one Christian Grey expects the naive Anastasia to sign in Fifty Shades of Grey.

As for the debate among women, I think one premise holds true: you can't debate the contents if you haven't read it. I've heard many discussions condemning this book as "Mommy Porn" by people who haven't read it. True, the explicit sexuality involved makes it so interesting as to be unable to put it down until the wee hours of the morning, but there is more to the story than just the sex, if you can navigate yourself around the elephant in the room to see further into the characters. The character of Anastasia has been criticized as a young, naive woman who, as a virgin, is taken advantage of by Christian Grey. After all, who wants to be tied up and pounded upon in such a way? Well, she does. She actually enjoys being his submissive, and as he points out, the submissive is the one with all the power. Still, Grey obviously has found more than he's bargained for in the young Ana. She is far from the submissive he thought, but she does indeed wield the power over him, her strong-willed nature leaving him out of control and often times at a loss, needing to punish her, which she also enjoys!

A second part of the criticism of Ana, is that after realizing she has fallen in love with Christian, she does what we all do: tries to change him. In fact, Ana does not try to change him. She does love him, but she takes a different tack than most women; she doesn't seek to change him, only to understand him, which leads him to understand himself, and therefore he effects his own change. What woman wouldn't love that? What woman who reads this book wouldn't be proud of the strength of character Anastasia displays despite her young age and lack of experience? All sexual exploits aside, she depicts the kind of woman who is true to herself and what she believes, and shows humility, kindness, and selflessness in her relationships with all of the other characters with whom she is involved. She just happens to meet the most intriguing, beguiling, and smokingly hot billionaire, Christian Grey. Oh well. Such is life in a fantasy, but she does herself proud in the end. And so does he. What's not to love about Christian Grey?

So, the next question is: What are the movie moguls going to do with this film? How far can they go, or not go, and still capture the essence of this tale and create a mainstream movie in the process? This will indubitably be one of the most unprecedented films of our time because of all the attention it is already garnering. And what will the actors agree or disagree to do? Their movie contracts will most likely mirror the same details as the one Christian offers to Anastasia in the first book. No doubt the actors cast in these parts will be rocketed to instant stardom, but at what cost? The artists' challenge is thrown like a gauntlet.

Never before in my lifetime have I heard such a debate among women about such an explicit topic, but it is because there is more to the story than many people want to acknowledge. Good for E. L. James for writing her first book, her first love story, and her first phenomenon. After all, that is all she meant to do, write a love story. And a very good one it is!