In case you missed my review of Gina's new book it's posted at The New Book Review. Drop by and check it out.
AND Gina is offering a fabulous giveaway of not only a signed copy of her book, but a string of freshwater pearls. Hurry and check out the contest rules (simple) and get your name in for a chance to win.
Though the picture requires much imagination I'm thinking you will forgive me when I tell you that to take a better one might have resulted in a hideous injury to either me, an innocent bystander (Have you ever wondered about that term. Really? How do we KNOW that the bystander is innocent?) or an amorous turkey. The picture is just a teeny bit of proof of the following facts.
It is turkey season in Iowa. Apparently (and I can back this statement up) they are everywhere doing their turkey come-hither disco moves in an attempt to make a love connection. I have seen them strutting their stuff...usually with a male in all his Thanksgiving Turkey finery. (Okay, without the stuffing or the bag of giblets.) At the side of the interstate. Traffic whizzing by at 65...no problem. He's bad, baby, he's Mr. Turkey Danger. Several females, usually in pairs, (probably headed to the ladies room to talk about their double dates) have crossed roads in front of my car. Apparently within the season of love there are no such things as traffic rules, or cars, for that matter.
The picture is the latest of a "lady" who crossed in front of me. Fortunately, the road was deserted and the turkey made it to make eyes another day.
So. In case you don't know 23 very well, let me just say that she's very open to quirky ideas and finding fun ways to do the mundane.
Her latest adventure is riding her bike to the coffee shop. First she had to buy the bike. Of course, she bought the sweet retro looking model. Gotta look the part of quirky if you are quirky, after all.
Before she punctured her tire and put the bugger out of commission for a week she was able to ride to and from work and enjoy every second of it.
Well. Most of them anyway. Seems that six in the morning can be dark in spots. And the night creatures aren't all tucked away in their beds yet. She nearly ran over a possum. With her sweet new bike. You just don't experience that every day. Ha.
Crossing Oceans
Gina Holmes
Paperback: 400 pages
Publisher: Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1414333056
Product Description:
Jenny Lucas swore she’d never go home again. But being told you’re dying has a way of changing things. Years after she left, she and her five-year-old daughter, Isabella, must return to her sleepy North Carolina town to face the ghosts she left behind. They welcome her in the form of her oxygen tank–toting grandmother, her stoic and distant father, and David, Isabella’s dad . . . who doesn’t yet know he has a daughter. As Jenny navigates the rough and unknown waters of her new reality, the unforgettable story that unfolds is a testament to the power of love and its ability to change everything—to heal old hurts, bring new beginnings . . . even overcome the impossible. A stunning debut about love and loss from a talented new voice.
My Review:
I am always hesitant to review a book written by a friend. Can you imagine how much more apprehensive I was reading the debut novel from not only a friend but a critique partner? A critique partner lives to rip and shred work to point out what's wrong and what needs to be changed to make the work readable.
Though I've critiqued Gina Holmes for years, I had just glimpses into Crossing Oceans and I knew it was a very different style from her previous suspense novels. Her suspense is strong. But how well would her voice translate to women's fiction?
Once I opened her book and began to read I can say that her voice translates with a poignant grace that is rare in a debut novelist. And Crossing Oceans is a story that Holmes was meant to tell.
Holmes tackles a heavy story line with a touch of whimsy and deep, deep melancholy, sometimes in the same paragraph. A young mother, emotionally orphaned when her mother died and father cocooned himself in a cloak of angry grief, finds herself forced to return to the home she had escaped. Jenny has Stage IV metastatic cancer and must reunite with the family she fled for the sake of her little girl's very near future need. With less than a year to repair and restore relationships Jenny tackles the past and the future, the present and the pain, all while attempting to give her daughter, Isabella, memories and love and what life she has available to give.
This is a novel that quickly overcame the author and my relationship with her. The story told itself in a realistic and three-dimensional tale of life and death, sorrow and fear, choices and consequences, pain and beauty, loss and hope. Holmes voice is similar to some of my favorite authors in the Christian fiction genre, Siri Mitchell, Charles Martin, Susan Meissner, Claudia Mair Burney, Lisa Samson and Bonnie Groves.
Crossing Oceans is not an easy read. It is haunting and beautiful and raw. Expect to cry and expect to remember this family long after you turn the last page.
So far April is dry but whether we have April showers or not, May is coming and with it, flowers.
I am particularly fond of daisies. There i
s just something about the simplicity and the cheerful little "countenance" of a daisy. I'm not drawn to them because of scent, that's for sure, because if they actually have one, it's not pleasant.
I'm also drawn to lilacs for completely different reasons. The season for lilacs is short and imitation lilac scent makes me queasy. But standing between purple festooned lil
ac bushes and breathing in that unmistakable scent is one of the great pleasures in life.
Why did God take the time to give us an abundance of flowers? I suppose we could say its for the bees and the birds. Sure. But why would He make the fragrant lilac that lasts three weeks, the peony, the poppy and the hyacinth, all vibrantly colorful and vastly different?
I'm going to suggest that the flowers He created, in all their glory and difference, are for our pleasure. And His.
Each type of flower has a growing season, soil and sun preferences and a maintenance need that
differs from others. And each of us has our own flower preferences. Roses are beautiful but come with thorns. Daisies are hardy, cheerful and scentless. Lilacs and peonies are here today and gone tomorrow and the scent of each can't quite be captured in a bottle. Some flowers grow shallow, some crave sun, some can grow without soil, some need shade.
A garden can be sculpted and neat or unruly and wild and both can be gorgeous. Flowers even have their own language. A gift of yellow roses means something entirely different from a bouquet of carnations or lilacs. And a gift of flowers from a special friend is not like receiving a token flower at a banquet.
Aren't we also very much like a garden? God's own garden, created for His glory and His purpose and His pleasure? And for the needs and pleasure of those around us? Som
e of us will be drawn to the human roses, others will be drawn to the wildflower garden. Those who come in contact with us, those whom we pray for, those who don't know Jesus, yet, are drawn or repelled by the scents and the sights and the garden that we are.
What type of flower are you? Functional? High-maintenance? Fragrant? Can we help cultivate our particular human flower? Can we offer our soil some help? Maybe do some self-pruning? Any dead-heads that you are aware of that might be hindering new growth? Could your soil use a little more time in the Word as preparation for some new seed or seedlings? Maybe we could try to stop striving to be roses if we are wildflowers and we can accept that wildflowers are beautiful and valuable just as they are.
And while you are pondering all of this, don't forget to stop and smell some flowers.
travels the nation to talk with believers whose lives have been greatly enriched by this ancient spiritual discipline of giving.
public image, and offers the ancient solution of radical Holiness to our modern insecurities.
s just something about the simplicity and the cheerful little "countenance" of a daisy. I'm not drawn to them because of scent, that's for sure, because if they actually have one, it's not pleasant.
ac bushes and breathing in that unmistakable scent is one of the great pleasures in life.
differs from others. And each of us has our own flower preferences. Roses are beautiful but come with thorns. Daisies are hardy, cheerful and scentless. Lilacs and peonies are here today and gone tomorrow and the scent of each can't quite be captured in a bottle. Some flowers grow shallow, some crave sun, some can grow without soil, some need shade. 
e of us will be drawn to the human roses, others will be drawn to the wildflower garden. Those who come in contact with us, those whom we pray for, those who don't know Jesus, yet, are drawn or repelled by the scents and the sights and the garden that we are. 