Today I’m excited to welcome Deborah Malone as she talks about her book, Blooming in Broken Places. Read through to the end to find out how you can enter to win a copy.
Why did I write Blooming in Broken Places you ask? I didn’t set out to write my life story, even though I’d been asked to many times over the years. I didn’t want to be negative or bring up old feelings.
Earlier in the year (2017) I had given a talk where I shared some of my personal history. I mentioned that would probably be the last time. I received a standing ovation and several ladies came up to me afterward and said that I needed to share my story – it could help other women going through challenging situations.
I must admit I thought about it, but that’s as far as it went. I didn’t proceed with the idea. In the meantime, I began work on the third book in my Skye Southerland Cozy Mystery Series. I had written about six chapters when I was led to start writing my story.
I’d never written a non-fiction book, so this was a brand-new process for me. I didn’t have the confidence to take on the project by myself, so I put out a call to my writer friends and asked for a co-author. I was surprised to receive quite a few replies.
It was hard to choose from so many talented authors, but I went with Julie Morris who wrote very similar to how I wanted my book to read. She lived a couple of hours from me, so I figured I would be able to meet with her in person. When I went to her home she told me right off that she would mentor me but didn’t want to do any of the writing. My heart sank!
That is why I wanted a co-author – and maybe I thought it would be an easy way to finish the book. But Julie explained that since it was my story I needed to be the one writing it. “It’s your baby,” she said. And boy was she right. I discovered that I was the only one who could write it in my voice. She was there with me every step of the way and was a great help during the process.
It also taught me that it is amazing what we can do when we have the passion to finish a project dear to us. I like to tell my writing students Perseverance + Passion = Publication! For those who are in the process of writing on a project please don’t give up. I’ve discovered God’s timing isn’t always our timing, but that doesn’t mean it won’t happen.
I named it Blooming in Broken Places, because I wanted to show women that God can and will use us even during our darkest times. I did this by weaving my story through women from the Bible that were broken, and God used them anyway in mighty ways to further his Kingdom.
Some of the women featured in Blooming in Broken Places are: Miriam, Rahab, the Samaritan Woman, Naomi and eight others. I loved researching and reading about these women. I found they were so much like us and I tried to show this in my book. Yes, it was hard to write, and it did bring up some old feelings, but it was very cathartic. And I believe I was able to write it in such a way that will be encouraging to those who read it so they, too, can bloom in their broken places.
Leave a comment below to enter for a chance to win a copy of Blooming in Broken Places.
Deborah Malone holds a degree in Human Services and worked in the field for several years before starting her writing career. Her first novel, Death in Dahlonega, finaled in the American Christian Fiction Writer’s Category Five writing contest. Deborah was also nominated for 2012 and 2013 Georgia Author of the Year in Novel category. She has worked as a freelance author and photographer, for the historic magazine “Georgia Backroads,” since 2001. She has had many articles and photographs published, and her writing is featured in “Tales of the Rails,” edited by Olin Jackson, as well as the “Christian Communicator,” and “Southern Writer’s Magazine.” She is a member of the Georgia Writers Association, Advanced Writers and Speakers Association and the American Christian Fiction Writers. Deborah would love for you to visit her website at http://www.wherehopeblooms.com.
Blooming in Broken Places
“Miriam, Miriam, where are you?” Jochebed frantically pleaded. “I want you to hide in the reeds and make sure Moses is safe. Come and report back to me.”
Wow! Talk about putting responsibility on a child’s shoulders. I don’t know why Jochebed, Moses’ mother, asked such a great task of young Miriam.
Maybe she thought Miriam, being a child, could hide in the reeds easier than she could, a grown woman. For whatever reason, Miriam was chosen to keep watch on her baby brother.
I can only imagine how scared she must have been, but she didn’t want to let her mother down.
The night songs of the cicadas and the sweet breeze caressing my skin lulled me to sleep. The memories of visiting my Aunt Maudie’s house are sweet and dear. But all my memories aren’t so sweet.
I looked like any other little girl my age – carefree and without a worry in the world. But at six years old I carried the weight of the world on my shoulders.
Fear and uncertainty had taken up residence inside my head and haunted me regularly. Every morning when it was time to get ready for school my constant companions would rear their ugly heads whispering, ‘Your mother will fall while you’re gone, or she’ll be in the hospital when you get back. Then what? After all it’s your responsibility to make sure she’s safe.’
What I couldn’t express in words at such a young age came out as screaming, stomping my feet and rolling around on the floor. Because Mother wasn’t physically able to take me to school, I’m sure I thought that would convince her to keep me home. It didn’t. She just called Dad and he’d come home from work and take me. This happened several times, until one day our principal, Mr. Lane, met Dad at my first-grade classroom door. “Sir, you go on back to work and I’ll take care of this.”
Now Dad was a big man, but Mr. Lane was bigger, and he always had a round, fat cigar sticking out of his mouth. It only took one spanking from Mr. Lane to convince me it was in my best interest to get on the school bus. The monsters taunting me about mother’s health would get to stay home – the place I wished I could be to prevent her from dying while I was learning to read. Even though I couldn’t help her, of course I wanted to be with her.