All of my fairy doors, fairy houses, fairy dolls, scented bookmarks, dryer balls, and other magical creations are available at my upcoming events and in my etsy shop! Click on the images to learn more about each one!
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The box of my books finally arrived! (Can you hear the squealing from there?) And, let me tell you, it is like all the best Christmases all rolled up into one (I might have stolen that line from my mother)! For a profession that relies so heavily on words, it’s ironic that there are no words for moments like these. It is truly indescribable. I mean, I wrote that. This is my story, my baby.

It’s important to understand, though, I did not accomplish this alone. Yes, I wrote a story, but to get it into a form I can hold and open (and caress the cover and sniff) was the support and work and patience of many individuals. What makes these moments even more special is having these people I love stand beside me and support me on this incredible journey, like my boyfriend and the people I mention in the acknowledgements, such as my editor, my brother, one of my best friends.

Another person I mention is my other best friend and cover artist, Jessica Johnson. She deserves more recognition than I could possibly give. Her talent alone is award winning. But the reason why my books are so beautiful, part of the excitement when opening the box, is the masterpiece she made for my cover.

 I know I’ve been saying that a lot on social media, but there is no other word that could possibly fit. The details alone are outstanding, like that on the bricks or the wood (or the whole thing, really). But it’s also the attention to detail in the way it fits the story so perfectly - The shoes and wooden porch and the brick steps and the dandelion. And everything about the design came from her. She was one of my first readers and there could be no better book cover for my story.

This attention to detail is not unique in the beautiful book cover she illustrated for me. You can find it in all of her work, from her Cherry On Top or Pokémon Pinups to her newest goddess art print. Be sure to check out her work. Because trust me, whether you order her work online or buy it from her in person at one of her events, you will be as excited as I am!

Check out more of work:

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If you are anything like me, you have done many pretend author interviews in the bathroom mirror since you were about eight. Yes, indeed, I am a pro of this type of Q&A. We’ll see if that carries over to my interview with Dot Cannon from Noelophile blog at the Mystic Dragon Book Festival on August 15th.

Throughout all of those pretend interviews, as well as the millions (no, I’m pretty sure this is not an exaggeration) of author interviews I have watched online thanks to youtube, and that one time I saw Diana Gabaldon live, one of the most commonly asked question is when did you become a writer? When did you start writing?

When is a very different question then the why (which most, I have found, answer much like Descartes- “I write, therefore I am”). Writing is a state of being, how we got to that state, though, is as diverse as the people who write.

For me, personally, it is something I have always been doing. I don’t mean this as a simple answer or a cop-out. It is the truth and I owe it to the most powerful inspiration in my life, my mother.

I grew up to the sound of her fingers dancing across the keyboards, making new worlds to explore and new characters to meet and fall in love with. And those were some of my purely happy childhood memories. I still remember the first story she wrote. It was about a small acorn I found walking back from dropping my brother off at the bus stop.

We had a deal. She would let me stay up past my bedtime to get to listen to what more she wrote that day as long as I brushed her hair. And I learned a lot in those nights. I learned tricks for editing (reading aloud). I learned research and the lengths one could go and the different resources available. I learned spelling and grammar (and that even the best sometimes flub in that area). Most importantly, though, I learned the power of storytelling, the power of writing, the power of words. It ignited a spark.

I remember my countless sketchbooks filled with what most would call scribbles on the front, and on the back would be a corresponding very short story. My mom tells me on the way to ballet, I would tell stories from the moment the key in the ignition turned to the moment the car would park. I grew up writing and telling stories, and I owe much of that to my mother.

I was fortunate to not only grow up with a mom who was passionate about reading and who shared that passion with me, but to grow up at my mother’s keyboard as well as her bookshelves. And what is even more exciting, as I follow in her footsteps and publish my own stories, is getting to experience the stories and characters I grew up with being shared with the whole world, too. Mouse and Shadow; and Emma and John; and Ellie and Alex were my earliest and oldest friends and playmates. And to see them become a book I can hold and open and revisit any time, is indescribable.

So when did I become a writer? When did it all start? It started with the first word my mother typed.

Check out my mom’s blog/website: http://www.keyboardmusings.com/
Her Amazon page: http://www.amazon.com/Barbara-Lieberman/e/B00NHI7PT6/ref=dp_byline_cont_book_1
Her Good Reads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8442199.Barbara_Lieberman

When you are a child, you are handed down a lot of different things from your family. You have your name. Some idiosyncrasies you pick up along the way. You have the physical gifts and keepsakes. You also are given references, and by that I don’t necessarily mean what you would put on a job application. I mean, culture, whether it is the classics or more modern day pop culture. I mean, things they loved that they shared with you that you now have grown to love.

Growing up, if my family wasn’t randomly breaking out into song (because, yes, my life is and has always been a musical), we were tossing references back and forth. Close to every sentence has at least one reference, some so obscure those eavesdropping would have thought we were speaking a foreign language. This is probably why my newest book, Society’s Foundlings, is riddled with random references.

In the acknowledgements of my book I thank and tip my hat to a few of the people who have given me the building blocks of my reference palace, including by brother, Ben, my mother, Barb, and one of my best friends, Alyse. Someone who I failed to mention, though, was my Grandmother. And she is someone who deserves mentioning.

Anyone who knows about my Acorn Tops business knows well about my Grandmom’s influence and inspiration. One of the gifts she gave me, a picture, is now my logo and how I got the idea to carve fairy doors. She has also inspired products from my business, such as my collaboration with Seeds of Inspiration, the Seeds of Remembrance Rosemary Scented Fairy Pillows!

Though, she passed away when I was very young, she has given me a lot. She has added to my love of reading. I have her Anne of Green Gables books, the ones with her name written in them. I have her Anne of Green Gables doll. I order Eggs Benedict whenever I can for breakfast and orange cream ice cream at the boardwalk and the beach, just like she did. I share a name with her and am named after the same strong and incredible woman, she is named for. And, most relevant to this post, I share a love of Harvey, the movie about the 6ft 3.5in tall pooka. I even dressed up one year for Halloween as El Wood P. Dowd, with a hat that had slots cut in it for rabbit ears and business cards with one number crossed out (call me at this number, not at this number).

In Society’s Foundlings, the reference appears when three of the characters are gathered around the television. One, sitting upside down on the couch, offers non-stop commentary while they watch and another is showing off his knowledge of every movie ever made. It’s a very minuscule part, one that could easily be missed and would not even be worth mentioning, if not for the personal significance, and not necessarily my own.

A book, a movie, a song, a television show- they have memories tied to them. You see them, you hear them, and they make you pause for a moment with a small nostalgic smile. Because you remember that person it reminds you of, who first showed it to you, who watched it, read it, sang it with you. You remember that moment it’s associated with, like a photo album you don’t have to pull out of the top shelf of a closet. And you remember how it made you feel. The way it spoke to you.

John Green (yes I am referencing him once more), did a whole vlog about Harvey. As he says, “All I know is I woke up the morning after watching Harvey feeling a little bit better and in all the years since, I have never felt quite as hopeless as I did before I watched Harvey.”

If you haven’t watched Harvey, I suggest you do. It’s a life changer for sure. And maybe when you’re reading Society’s Foundlings and you come to the part where they are watching it, you will pause for a moment and smile.