How's Your Heart, Reader?

When I was a young adult, newly married, newly teaching, new to everything really, the pastor's wife of our new church asked me one day: "How's your heart?" and I found it a very interesting BUT prying 👀 question.

But as I've matured, I have come see it as a question that we SHOULD ask ourselves.

Instead of "How are you doing?" we should ask: "How's your heart?"

In this newsletter I surely don't want to pry.

But I also don't want to waste your time. One of the main principles (goals) of my novels is that IT WILL DO YOU GOOD to read them.

ABOUT THE REVISION:

Weaving together some threads to make Vera's Story (Return to Me) into a great book has plunged me deep into a mucky place.

Since the story has to align both vertically and horizontally with other books in the series, it has taken a lot of mental elbow-grease (is that a thing?)

My eyebrows were constantly pinched in thought, working this stubborn girl's story into something "worth reading."

But now, we are there. The ending is so good, I know you will smile. I know it will make your heart sing! It will do you GOOD to read.

Which brings up the question above:

As an author writing stories for YOU, I do need to know about you. Maybe even to test your spiritual welfare every so often.

SO

I've planned a method to do this that is both ENTERTAINING and INFORMATIVE. Based on your candid but 'non-prying' answers, I'll make sure to write books that fill the void you are sensing.

Plus, it does you good to regularly ask yourself "How's your heart?"

This means I need you to click on a choice each week
in our This or That segment.

THANKS for letting me know!

--Darlene

Out my window (10pm):

It's raining outside. Rattles of thunder and patters on leaves. A coal black and cobalt blue sky is punctuated by lights across the short valley. Punctuated, dots on a black canvas. Red flashing lights from the windmills. White factory lights. Yellow streetlights. Pinprick shiplights. But through the window, refracting atop the canvas, each and every light shoots out up and down and side to side, like blurry Christmas stars. Except for one phenomenon: a distinct set of twenty white light crosses, clear as Calvary, sits atop a hill just opposite me.

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October 2026 BOOK SUGGESTIONS

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