
I just received my first copy of my novel, The Star Prophecy and it is beautiful. It is a tale of young Nephite men who set sail for Jerusalem to find the Christ Child.



There once was a woman who woke up one morning, looked in the mirror,
and noticed she had only three hairs on her head.
"Well," she said, "I think I'll braid my hair today."
So she did and she had a wonderful day.
The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror
and saw that she had only two hairs on her head.
"H-M-M," she said, "I think I'll part my hair down the middle today."
So she did and she had a grand day.
The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and noticed
that she had only one hair on her head.
"Well," she said, "today I'm going to wear my hair in a pony tail."
So she did, and she had a fun, fun day.
The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and
noticed that there wasn't a single hair on her head.
"YAY!" she exclaimed. "I don't have to fix my hair today!"
I admit it. I am totally addicted to family history research and I enjoy it as much as writing.
I actually attribute my love for writing to family history. Years ago, I found a name of a woman that possibly could be my ancestor’s mother. The impression repeatedly came to sit down at the computer and write how an interview with her would go. I did and it turned into a short story. Then it grew into a novel—my first novel (unpublished)—Bridges of the Heart. Through that experience, I discovered I love writing and crafting a story as much as I love doing family history research.
As everyone else, I had planned to start genealogy in my retirement years, but about twenty years ago a friend insisted I find a babysitter and go with her for an hour to the family history center. After that I was hooked.
I used to be like the girl I met one evening sitting in the back of the family history center as the other Young Women in her class attentively listened to the missionary sister giving a tour. I asked the girl why she didn’t join her friends. “My family has been in the church for generations and our genealogy is all done,” she said, leaning back in her chair with an air of smugness.
I had to hide a smirk. “I used to think that way too,” I told her. “But as I got into researching, I found that each of my ancestors had siblings, spouses, and in-laws that still needed finding. Outside of my direct line, very few had their temple work done.”
She shrugged and I knew that was my cue to leave her alone to bask in her all-is-well-in-Zion attitude, though I knew the joy she'd miss.
Sometimes I feel guilty spending time doing family history, but in the long run, I know it is not time wasted. Every name found goes on familysearch.com. I feel warm all over finding a name that isn’t already recorded there. Making records public takes lost individuals out of
Another good thing about researching, is that I can do it at home in my spare time, between loads of laundry, and grandchildren visits. I can do it when I’m burned out from writing on my novel. I can write my novel when I’m burned out doing family history research.
The bottom line—doing family history work brings happiness. :-)
Don't take me too seriously on this one, but I like my characters to be happy and I find it a challenge to write a smile. Yes, I know it’s all right to write he smiled, but sometimes it gets monotonous. In an 80,000-word novel it takes a lot of creative writing to keep your character creatively smiling.
The English language doesn’t have enough substitutes for the word smile.Grin, beam, and smirk is all my thesaurus offers. To avoid each smile from sounding like the last, the writer will sometimes use modifiers such as toothy, wide, lopsided, ridiculous, or that the ends of her mouth turn up. If the character’s eyes light up, her smile smiles differently than two pages ago.
Maybe someone should make a long list of smile descriptions, cut them in slips, put them in a jar and market it to writers. Whenever they need to write a smile, they can draw one out and, kazam! It’s done. (The inventor will probably make more money than from book royalties.)
Another word we English conversers got shorted on is laugh. There isn’t a word for an ordinary, boring huff. If it is an everyday grin—no emotion involved—there’s not a lot to choose from. Everyone laughs. If we don’t blow out our breath in a quiet laugh, we just smile, or there we go grinning again.
The best we can do is chuckle, and if you’re under sixteen you can giggle. If you are a little loony you may twitter and chortle. Boys snicker. Males hoot. Old women snort and cackle (may I never be that old.) And if you just lose it altogether, you are allowed a guffaw or two.

None of these offer what I’m looking for. Got laughs?


