Have you ever wondered what it’s like to be a writer? Cindy Woodsmall joins us today to give a glimpse into her world! Be sure to checkout Cindy’s latest release, Gathering the Threads. After months away in the Englisch world, Ariana Brenneman is overjoyed to be in the Old Order Amish home where she was raised. Yet her excitement is mixed with an unexpected apprehension as she reconciles all she’s learned from her biological parents with the uncompromising teachings of her Plain community. Although her childhood friend, ex-Amish Quill Schlabach, hopes to help her navigate her new role amongst her people, Ariana’s Daed doesn’t understand why his sweet daughter is suddenly questioning his authority. What will happen if she sows seeds of unrest and rebellion in the entire family?
P.S. Be on the lookout for her upcoming Christmas book co-authored with Erin Woodsmall, The Gift of Christmas Past.
Five in the morning, and before my feet hit the floor, my body screams Give me coffee or give me death!
I know I shouldn’t accept this type of thinking or demands from myself, but I’ll wait for a more opportune time to take up this matter . . . with my body. I believe in choosing one’s battles, and this one will not take place until after the coffee mug is empty.
Seven a.m., and I’ve been writing diligently for ninety minutes because my Thailand visitors will be up soon, and I’ll help get breakfast on the table. A group of fifteen young women came to the US from House of Grace for the first time at the end of July. Since my husband and I have sponsored one of the girls from childhood and through college, she and another young lady are staying with us for a month. This empty nester is once again in-house mom, chef, and chauffeur, and it’s been an honor and a blast! All but two of the group, ages nine to thirty-something, returned to Thailand the last of August. Our sponsor girl was one of the two who will stay until mid-January, and I’ll do my best to help her become fluent in English.
Eggs, rice, bacon, fresh fruit, yogurt, and toast are what’s for breakfast. Hmm. They say there’s always a first time for everything, and it’s my first time to have rice for breakfast. My guests, despite the language barrier, let me know that they have rice with every meal. I’m surprised by how much I enjoy it, and I’m grateful to have an Instant Pot.
I returned to writing while the girls cleaned the kitchen and strolled around outside with a camera. They’re tired from days of being on the go, so while they take a nap, I keep writing.
There is a gathering at Stone Mountain of hosts and sponsors, so we pull a picnic together and head that way.
Among the usual picnic fare, I get an idea to take rice. I feel a little silly, but I cook a double portion of rice and put it in a two-gallon Ziploc bag. As it turns out, the rice is more popular than homemade brownies. What?
It’s after nine by the time we get home, and I scurry to my office, hoping I can get at least a thousand words written before I’m too tired to think. The story is begging to be written, and I find it easy to reach my goal. With each outing I go on with my sponsor daughters, more story ideas come to me—and no one reading this will be surprised that the new stories aren’t Amish.