The day the first Sierra Lavotini novel, The Miracle Strip, came out... 

About two months ago I started this blog so that the people who read my novels would have a way of finding out more about me, my writing and the writing process in general.  An unexpected surprise has been the upsurge in mail I've been getting about my Sierra Lavotini "Strip" series.  The support is so wonderful and so deeply appreciated! 

When Tom (see his comment below) wrote me today and asked if anyone else was wondering about Sierra, I thought it might be a good idea to share a few of the lovely notes I've received.  He also wanted a bit more of "Landing Strip," which made me think maybe I ought to post a page of some of my current Works in Progress, too.  What do you think?

In the meantime...here are those comments- 

Tom says: 

Subject: Bring Back Sierra, PLEASE!!!
Message: Ms Bartholomew: I have just finished re-reading the original set (you'll pardon the expression)of Strip books...I have also just finished reading your So, About Sierra blog...
I don't know how many people, if any, have been asking for the return of Ms Lavotini, but I am definitely in the class picture...
I am sure that you can extend upon your paragraph in that blog...at least, I hope so...Come on, Nancy...It's been too long...PLEASE!!!

From Robin:

Subject: sierra lavotini
Message: Hi,  I just found the sierra series and plowed through them at record speed.  I love her life and now I am left hanging not knowing who moose really is.  Any idea when Landing strip may be published or is that not ever going to happen?

From Cindy:

Subject: sierra
Message: Thank you for sharing Sierra with us. She is absolutely one of my favorite characters, she's just a riot. I hope one day soon I'll see her on the bookshelves again.

From Jennifer-

Subject: Your Cheatin Heart
Message: I just finished reading Your Cheatin Heart & loved it so much I ordered Stand By Your Man.  Is there any other books that go with those?  You're an amazing author.  I can't wait to read more of your books.  Please let me know about the series.  Gotta read them all....

From Julie-

Subject: SIERRA #5
Message: What is Sierra's book #5 called?
Has it been published?
I love the Sierra series.  I think St. Martins press sucks!!

 From Carol-

I also own all the Stella's and the Sophie.  Thanks for making me laugh.  My husband loves Sierra too.  I hope St. Martin's comes to their senses.  Could we start a writing campaign to get them to see reason?

Carol

From JJ-

From Michelle-

 Subject: what happens to sierra?????
Message: ok i just discovered your strip series and i am dying to know what happens to sierra after the last book.   when can we expect the next book or is the series done?  what happens after uncle moose calls her?

From Joe-

 Subject: Sierra Lavotini
Message: Any chance that Sierra might come back in another story?
I really enjoyed reading your stories about her.
Thanks.

 From Kim-

From Rachael- 

Subject: Your books..
Message: Hello Nancy,
My name is Rachael and I am a huge fan of your Sierra Lavotini Series. I was very upset to see there aren't anymore books out in this series. When will a new book by you be coming out? Are you still writing? If you have time to write me back, I would be so happy. I just would love to know what is going on with your books and such. Thanks.

From Sheila-

Sheila Haughn

Who is the publisher? I want to send them an e-mail. They must be crazy to no...

May 6 (3 days ago)

Sheila HaughnLoading...

May 6 (3 days ago)

 

Around these parts, it's best not to ask too many questions.  After all, the cabin lies in the heart of "The Moonshine Capital of the World."

I was reading T.J Hazen's article on the history of Sloan's Mill the other night and found the tale of Bill Underwood.  It seems Mr. Underwood moved into the miller's house across the road from the mill and quickly irritated his neighbors with his constant inquiries into their activities.

When they'd had enough of Bill's nosiness, they snuck up on his steam tractor and blew up its boiler.  Unfortunately, the perpetrators were unaware that Bill had just sold it to another neighbor.

I don't have a tractor...yet...but I'm right partial to my convertible so...I won't be asking too many questions.  After all, why would I need to know what's going on around here? I write fiction.

Some days are just gloomy.

I don't mind the rain.

Not even the clouds.

Perhaps it's the air- heavy and thick,

sad.

It makes me want to eat

top-heavy, grocery store cupcakes.

Mert was sitting in the cabin  Saturday morning assembling the new garden cart when she suddenly stopped what she was doing, looked up and said "Did I tell you I saw a coyote walking through the subdivision a couple of days ago?"

I figured she was kidding.  It was early morning.  I hadn't had enough coffee and Mert is bad to fun you .  But she wasn't  kidding.  She was serious...See?

Around here, we call that a "Serious as a Heart Attack" look.  This, too...When Mert starts pointing her screwdriver, you know she's fixing to give you the straight skinny on the situation.

But, I thought, we live in a fairly large city.  We live in the Southeast.  Coyotes don't roam the streets of Greensboro.  Do they?

"Mert," I said. "What makes you think it was a coyote?"

She shook her head, acknowledging that this did indeed sound incredible.  "I heard on the news they've been moving into North Carolina," she said.  "And I don't know, he just moved like a coyote." 

It begs the question, don't you think?

"Mert, how do coyotes move?"

Mert's into it now..."Well," she says, laughing.  "They just, you know, slink.  Creepy, creepy, creeping along."

"How was that again?" I said, raising the camera and hitting the flash button for good measure.

"You know!  They just hunker down low and...Bookity, bookity, bookity...right on down the road!"

So there you have it.  Coyotes in Greensboro.  Film at 11. 

I suppose that's how it is with writing, too. 

I don't believe this on bad days.  On days when my life seems to fall to pieces, or the writing doesn't go as well as I might like, I decide it's all in the hands of the publishers or the agents or worse, Lady Luck.

But again, that's just how I choose to look at it on a bad day.  On good days, it's all up to me.  If I write it, I tell myself, they will come.

Sigh.  We writers are such a neurotic group!

Hadn't written one single word since my return from the cabin.  Not. One. Word.

Needless to say, life has intervened.

But one inevitability has transpired-

I've done the taxes.

Some would consider this to be a major work of fiction.

Not I.

That's why I have a big box slap full of every single receipt from every single expenditure for the past year.  That's why I sit amidst that mountain of paperwork every year trying to resurrect the past so TurboTax can then explain it to the IRS in terms they can understand.

No wonder I haven't written.  Who could write with that kind of log jam in their head?

Back in the day, before kids, before major responsibility came my way, I would squirrel away all my vacation days and take 2 long weeks off to "Evaluate my Life."  I had a 20 year plan.  Really.  With goals that could be measured by the month, the year, five years on up to 20 years.

I did not take into account the wisdom that comes with time and age.

This probably explains why I don't have a house in L.A (Lower Alabama a.k.a Panama City Beach, Florida) with a private landing strip for my own airplane.  Thank God for that!

The first week of my 2 week retreat, I would spend frying myself to a cinder on the beach and drinking wine spritzers on the roof-top deck of my boss's beach house.  But the second week signalled the time of introspection and reevaluation.  I had goals for everything- my career, my personal life, my friendships.  No stone was left unturned.

This week away, up here at the cabin, felt like a miniature version of those old escapes.  I still have goals.  I still reappraise them and evaluate my progress, just not with the rigidity of my youth.  I was, however, able to hear the sound of my own inner voice again.  I did write- almost 50 pages- of something new. 

But I covet the old days of 2 week chunks.  I love the bliss of this place. The thing that comes with time and age is the knowledge that one day, all too soon, I'll have a lot of time alone.  My boys will be grown, with lives and families of their own.  So the good stuff, the memories and treasures, for now they're at home, in town. 

I'm big on being with my family in the moment, savoring every single bit of that experience and hoarding it for my motherhood retirement.  

That, and the taxes MUST be done... 

We've fallen into a routine, the dog and I.  Well, in all honesty, the dog has a routine and I have become her bitch.  She's up at dawn, chaffing at the bit for her walk.

 
She tried to get me to go walk at 1 a.m. 6 a.m. and again at 8:30.  I figure it's because I slept with the bedroom window open and there were just too many tempting sounds and smells outside.

Lesson learned.  We sleep with the windows shut tonight.

One of my characters threw the proverbial wrench into the plot by revealing a daughter I hadn't expected and a dead body I was looking for- but in a different place than I'd been thinking of.  I'm not sure that doesn't mean cutting the 4 pages I finally wrote today.

Still, it's all good. 

Why was this coffeepot nailed to that fence post?  And what about this one only a few yards away?

 Who did this and why? What does it all mean?