Spring + Writing Projects + A Book Contract

Hello, it’s been awhile.

How are you? I hope you’re doing well, more so actually.

I hope your mornings inspire you, your lunches fuel you, and your evenings relax you. I hope contentment is your everyday companion, but if not, I hope that it’s within reach. I hope the books you read, the smiles you wear, the hugs you give spark refreshment and liveliness that matches the start of spring. I hope when your exhausted, groaning, maybe creaking body curls up under the covers at night that you tell yourself good job, you made it, you pushed through, you endured.

Happy spring and happy Easter season to you!

This is my favorite time of year. The chilly mornings that melt into warm afternoons; the daring buds popping out from their dark beds hoping and trusting that there’s something worthwhile beyond the surface; the cheerful morning bird song; the longer evenings—

I could go on.

I should go on.

I’ve yet to truly write a Things I Love About Spring, probably because it seems too obvious to me to love spring. But maybe I’ll work on that next week. There’s so much to love about this little window of time, the first few weeks of Spring. I wonder if you feel the same.

Speaking of things to write: while I hid from blank documents and the internet last month, I spent most of my spare time writing Charlie in the Clouds and reading charming, wholesome books of courage and love. I’ve made it beyond the halfway point in Sonny’s story and into the climax, in case you’re curious. Poor sweet Sonny boy. It’s been a difficult climb to the sky, and things are just now getting even harder for him. I’m still not sure if he’ll overcome his hardships or only learn from them, perhaps both.

This month, though, I’ll be pausing my drafts to start editing another story of mine: Arbor Fall Festival. You might remember a few months ago, I wrote about a secret I kept (a book submission), the promise I made to my dad (to write more books and tell him about it), and the encouragement I received from Bryan (closure no matter how big or small is worth celebrating). Well…y’all…I’m holding my breath typing this out.

I signed a book contract.

Back in January, Calla Press Publishing reached out with a contract for Arbor Fall Festival. Gosh more than a contract: A partnership, a prayer, and a promise (okay breathe). As you know, this particular publisher was at the very top of my list. And I’m trembling with a mix of excitement and joy and nervousness just thinking about what next fall will mean. I begin working hand in hand with CPP’s stunning, kind, endearing team in August on creating the best possible version of Arbor Fall Festival.

This little fable found a home.

Thank you for all the encouragement and the enduring support of the last ten years. I truly hope this story brings you joy.

I sent a copy of Arbor Fall Festival to a few trusty readers (better described as friends who love to read) to give a critical eye and broaden the story. They’ve returned their priceless perspective, and I’ll be using that lens while editing. I’ll be turning over the manuscript to CPP in August for I’m sure more rounds of edits.

Also in the meantime, a talented friend has begun illustrating this chapter series (I love her work!), and I’m beyond excited and in love that God has allowed me to create stories with her by my side. I hope to share some of that with y’all soon.

Until then here’s an introduction to Arbor Fall Festival:

Arbor Fall Festival, a fable of sorts, written for imaginative, clever preteens, stars a northern red oak named Rosie of the Oak Tree Farms. It is my dream to have Arbor Fall Festival read aloud, with silly voices of course, in cozy living rooms or under bedtime nightlight, bringing families closer together. That would be the true value of this book: giving families something they can all enjoy together. This story also reminds children that there is beauty in kindness worth cherishing.

Rosie seeks to win the Arbor Fall Festival—the first year her tree farm has ever stood a chance at winning. Beauty is the goal, and Rosie is certainly beautiful. But when a little bird loses her flock and attempts to seek refuge amongst the trees, beauty takes an ugly turn. Will this bird find shelter, her flock, and will Rosie risk the winning ribbon to help a little lost bird? With a melody of supporting misfit characters, including a brave lizard, a droopy tree named Sessily, a grumpy hedgehog, and an evergreen with vague advice, I hope this story will be one to savor and enjoy for an entire childhood.

Until next time, I hope you’re doing well and feel the nearness of God.

All the lovely things,

JH