Bits & Pieces of Me

Category Archives: Books by Joy

A Pre-release Reader’s Response

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Your Life, a Legacy will be available as an ebook (if all goes well on the Kindle’s end) tomorrow. ($4.99)  It’s been a long time coming – in a way it’s hard to believe it’s here.

Over twenty people volunteered to be pre-release readers. That’s a nervous time in a writer’s life. You want them, but fear they might not like your baby – I mean book.

One pre-release reader sent me this response:

 

Joy,
I read Your Life, a Legacy last night.  All of it. It’s very easy to read and very motivating.  I especially like how it breaks the project of writing a legacy down into bite-sized pieces that help anyone see how they can start today.  I hope my mom will begin hers.  I would also love to make this a phone-project with my grandmother, maybe asking her to share a story with me every time I call her, then I can write it down.  I really loved your own stories interjected into the text, makes it very personal.  Great job!
Nicci from Oklahoma

I’m grateful to Nicci for her response and I’m hoping some Legacies are born in her family soon.

I think I’ll have a glass of fresh apple juice on the rocks to celebrate.

Joy

 

Rosehips

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At first glance, you see only wild rose blossoms, but they are more to me – much more. They are part of my story – my life legacy.

My grandma Joy was in the hospital, and things were not going well for her. She had broken hip they could not fix because her heart was too weak for the surgery. After leaving the Worthington, MN hospital, we visited my other grandma in Lake Park, Iowa – just over the border.

I guess my dad knew I needed some time, outside so he asked me to go for a walk along the old railroad tracks nearby. He’s a quiet man so little was said, but there was comfort in him being him. He stopped at one point and picked three wild rose hips and handed them to me and said, “Maybe someday you can plant these in your garden.” I gripped the tiny withered “rose seeds” in my hand as if I held a great treasure because gifts from dads feel that way. Mom put them in a white envelope for me and when I got home to my husband and busy life, I tucked it in a drawer.

We moved a few years later. As I unpacked, I found the envelop and decided it was time to plant the now shriveled rose hips in my new wildflower garden. They looked so dead; I was pretty sure they were simply getting a burial, but I stuck three plastic knives into the ground to mark the spots just in case.

About a month after I’d planted them, I discovered little rose shoots by each knife. We lived in the country, and I was free to voice my moment of jubilee to God out loud, which I did.
The plants grew tall and full and became hedged in communities for wrens, finches, and hummingbirds. The thorns kept most predators at bay.

We’ve moved twice since then and both times my dad has helped me dig up part of the original plants and replant them, so I can continue to enjoy the legacy of the wild roses.
Every spring I hurry out to see the first signs of life in the bushes and each year they bloom, send up new shoots, and produce more fruit.

There are a lot of devotional applications to this story, and I may write one or two someday, but there’s a different treasure in these prickly bushes for me. The beautiful memory of my dad’s quiet gift.

Thanks, Daddy!

 

 

 

 

On January 16th, you can learn how to preserve your own stories when Your Life a Legacy releases on amazon.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Story Behind Room for Bandit

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My writing room was in an unfinished corner of our basement. A bare light bulb hung over head, studs with insulation tucked behind plastic covered the cement block, and I wore two pairs of socks on my feet. On the other side of the windows I could see the black-blue of midnight.

A pawing at the basement door interrupted my concentration and ignited my imagination.

By the time I decided to check, the visitor had gone. And yes, there had been a visitor. Large paw prints marked the newly fallen snow. I asked the darkness, “Who do these belong to and where did he go?”

I didn’t know if then, but the first line in a children’s book had just been written and one of the best friends I’d ever have had tried to introduce himself to me that lonely night.

If you’re looking for a new Christmas story for the children you love, check out Room for Bandit at www.booksbyjoy.com 

Tomorrow I have a special annoucement from Rose McCauley, co-author of The Christmas Belles of Georgia.

I Ask

In the midnight blue before the dawn – I ask.

In the first glisten of day break – I ask.

As the birds break open the morning in song – I ask.

As the coffee brews strong and black – I ask.

When morning turns to the heat of noon – I ask.

To the rhythm of the tweets and peeps of juncos – I ask.

When the breeze whispers over my cheeks – I ask.

As the sun reddens the western horizon – I ask.

As dusk hushes the songs in the bushes and trees – I ask.

And, when the crescent moon shines in the midnight sky – I ask.

Please God – give me the words that will matter. . .of You, this I ask.

A Poem – by Joy DeKok – 11/03/11

By now you might be wondering if with all this asking, I also praise and thank God for His blessings. I do, but that’s a poem for another day. You might also wonder if He answers my asking. He does. And then, I ask Him to do it again.

More soon,

Joy

Joy DeKok, Books By Joy Copyright 2011

No Words Today

The words are hiding today. No new poem. No stories. Lots of ideas though. Not sure what’s holding them back – maybe it’s just not their time. I wrote the following poem on a day much like today. . .

No Words Today

The words just aren’t coming today

I’ve tried this and that and still – no way!

I wanted them to find their way to the page,

But, they have decided to stay in their cage.

I don’t care if they aren’t superstars,

I just want them free from the lock and bars!

I have other things I need to write,

I’ve tried and tried with all my might.

But, this brand new story idea of mine

Is risky and will force me to step out of line. . .

Those words came in an easy rush,

I yelled at them – “Would you please hush!”

They refused my very simple request,

I’m not very happy as you may have guessed.

Instead they’re stubborn and standing their ground.

And seem to be ready for one more round.

Maybe if I write them, they’ll get out of the way,

And land in my shredder by the end of today.

Or perhaps a nap will clear my brain,

This being stuck place is really a pain!

And yes, I also fear what you might think,

Of an author coach stuck on the brink,

Refusing an idea that could sell lots of books,

So I can avoid all those questioning looks,

From people I love who won’t understand,

That murder and mystery are now part of my brand.

It’s a really short story, for Pete’s sake,

So why does it feel like there’s more at stake?

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Do you write poetry? If so, you might enjoy reading my latest release, Poetry – Touch the World with Your Art & Soul. It’s available on Kindle for 99 Cents.