Am winding down from a huge effort (for me) getting out my newest novel, The Seasons of Doubt.
It’s been a long slog, even for me, and I am by nature a slogger (my husband calls it stubbornness, I call it persistence). The Seasons of Doubt may be a cautionary tale in support of slogging, no matter how sloggy it is, because the novel is set to be released in April next year!!!! I can’t believe it.
Getting this far hasn’t been easy, I’ve put away The Seasons of Doubt three times. Over and over I thought I didn’t have the grit to continue, and thought I was done with it. But it wouldn’t stay down.
I think at heart it wouldn’t die because of Mary Harrington, the teller of the story. She is given impossible odds for survival in a truly paralyzing time in America, yet, bless her, she hangs on, she gets somewhere.
Her times and place are Nebraska the last part of the 1800s. When the continental railroad was finished, homesteaders like Mary and her husband took out homesteads and moved to the prairie to make their futures on land they got free. It was not easy, after a year or two–sometimes only a few months–most of them gave up, abandoned their dreams and moved back where they came from.
Mary’s husband is one such dreamer. When an early winter wipes out everything he’s worked for, his dreams are dashed. He gives up, abandons Mary and their 5-year-old son. They wait for his return. Months later they are hungry and penniless. Survival, now, is up to Mary, but how?
Mary doesn’t give up, and she hasn’t given up on me. She only needs to wait a few months more for her story to be told.