Author: Gina Wilkins

I’ve mentioned before that I live on a ten-acre lot in a semi-rural setting. The neighbors across the street raise miniature horses, the ones behind me raise cows. I enjoy sitting outside in the early evenings to watch the ponies and listen to the frogs and crickets rejoice as the hot summer days begin to cool. I keep a hummingbird feeder near my patio, and I get a kick out of watching the feisty hummers and the downy woodpeckers who love to steal the nectar. (The downy in the photo above was annoyed with me because I wanted to clean and refill the feeder. He was waiting impatiently when I brought it back out, much to the irritation of the hummingbirds who do their best to scare him away).

The downy woodpeckers, several larger woodpeckers, and mockingbirds eat the suet from a feeder hanging from a white ash tree at the end of the patio, from which also dangles a bird feeder that attracts several varieties of birds, and a thistle feeder that draws goldfinches and house finches. We have a lot of mockingbirds; the babies hop around our patio making shrill demands for food. We used to have a few bird houses in which bluebirds and sparrows raised several generations of offspring, but the tornado that hit our house in ’05 destroyed them all and we haven’t gotten around to replacing them yet.

Our patio has briefly entertained raccoons and opossums, box turtles and the occasional snake, and I always have to stop whatever I’m doing and watch them. There’s just something fascinating to me about watching wildlife.

After dinner yesterday, I looked out my kitchen window and saw a fat skunk waddling across the back of the property. This isn’t new for us; last year, I saw one skunk so often I even named it “Pepe.” It grew so comfortable with us that it wandered across the patio as I sat outside a couple of times. I can’t say I was as comfortable with Pepe. Every time s/he came that close to me, I froze and was afraid to move a muscle until it moved back out into the yard and pasture. So when I saw the skunk through the window yesterday, I merely smiled and said, “Why, hello, Pepe.” And then I noticed the two cute little balls of fur toddling behind it. This Pepe is a mommy. I grabbed my camera but they ducked into a drainage pipe before I could get a clear photo. I’ll try again if they show up this evening, though my husband is hoping they’ll move on.

As day fades into evening, two huge owls glide overhead to perch in the trees close to the patio.  I think they’re barred owls, but it’s always dusk when they show up, so I have a hard time seeing details. They fly absolutely silently, so it’s always a bit startling when they swoop down in front of us in search of whatever prey they’re finding in our yard and pasture. They don’t seem to be at all wary of us as we sit in our wrought iron rockers and watch them. The sheer size of them is impressive, and I love seeing them silhouetted against the night sky. I snapped a photo last night, but I wasn’t using a tripod, so the image is a bit blurred.

I love taking day trips or vacations to lakes and mountains where I can watch the wildlife. Birds and deer and chipmunks in the woods, turtles and otters and beavers in the water — even snakes, as long as they’re a safe distance away. On long, cross-country drives, I’ve glimpsed elk and black bears and eagles, among many other species. I entertain myself on the rather boring drive from here to Memphis by counting the hawks I spot during the two and a half hour drive  (my record is 61). My dream vacation is an Alaska cruise so I can see the wildlife and especially whales!

I’m content to have only two full-time pets, our cat, Izzie and the turtle, Elizabeth, but God has filled the world with animal friends for me to enjoy. What are your favorite animals to watch?

The winner of the June drawing for an autographed copy of the Harlequin sixtieth anniversary anthology, FROM THIS DAY FORWARD, including a novella by me, ALWAYS THE GROOMSMAN,  is (drum roll, please) … Allison Walton of Ohio.

Congratulations, Allison! I’ll get that in the mail to you ASAP.

For details of the July drawing (the prize is a hardcover, larger print edition of THE BRIDESMAID’S GIFTS), please click the “Enter to Win” tab above.

Happy 4th of July weekend to all my U.S. readers — and a safe, pleasant weekend to all my readers worldwide.

It’s Monday again, and I have a long list of things to accomplish this week. Deadlines, business responsibilities, housework. The usual routines of day-to-day living. Yet I spent my weekend revisiting the past. I had lunch with a dear friend from childhood whom I haven’t seen in too long. I learned that another school friend was recently killed in an accident. I had an unexpected call from another old friend from high school, and touched base with a few more on-line. Was “friended” by a couple of relatives I haven’t seen in a few years, so caught up with them, as well. And the deaths of several famous, iconic figures from my youth figured prominently in the national news reports. Nostalgia.

My mother-in-law will be 88 in August. Though she isn’t as active as she once was, her health is still relatively good and her mind as sharp as ever. She tells us stories all the time about when she was a child, a teenager, a young mother. Get her to talking about playing basketball in high school (she was 5’11”), and her eyes light up with the spark of competition. She can still remember specific games and plays, and still gets indignant over bad calls and unsportsmanlike conduct of other players. She still remembers what she wore to certain parties, still describes in detail the lunches her mother sent with her to her little school in rural northeast Arkansas. She says she feels like the same person she was seventy years ago; she looks in the mirror at times and wonders who is that old woman looking back at her?

I saw the signs of aging in my long-time friend — and I’m sure she saw the differences in me — but I understand what my mother-in-law means. The years rolled away as I chatted with my friend over lunch. We’ve spent the better part of the past thirty years in separate states, raising our families, pursuing different careers and life goals, and yet those memories of our youth made time irrelevant. We spoke of my late mother, and I saw the love in her eyes for the woman who’d been such an important part of her life, too. We talked about her mother, who is in failing health and has already left this world in some ways, and she knew I remembered the vibrant, funny, busy and talented woman her mother was before the years took their toll. We both remembered our lost schoolmate, whom neither of us had seen in some time, as the boy with the thick blond hair and mischievous blue eyes, and I know we shared thoughts of other classmates already gone, though our focus was primarily on the present.

I struggle to keep up with technological advances (I’ve mentioned that before in this blog), but I enjoy learning new tricks. At a meeting last week, a speaker showed us how to make video montages of photos and music (all copyright clear, of course!) to promote our books or however we might use the skill. To practice, I came home and made a computer slide show of some family photos, using special effects and transitions and  Chris Daughtry’s “Home” in the background (copyright protected, so I won’t share it with anyone but my own family). I’m still very much an amateur, of course, but I was quite proud of the end result, and I had to share it with my girls, who live so far away from me now. Yet we have all those shared experiences bonding us together, making us feel closer. The miles that separate us can’t break that bond. The photos are merely cues to the memories we carry in our minds and hearts.

While relatively rare in real life, amnesia is a tried-and-true fictional device for a reason. Our memories define us. They make us who we are. If we wake up without the recollection of our past, are we even the same people? How different would we be if  our actions weren’t guided by the conditioned responses of previous experience?

This is a theme I’m exploring in a current project — one that isn’t even sold yet, and that I’ll tell you more about later. It’s a very different type of story for me, and quite a challenge to write. We need those challenges to keep our future fresh and exciting — but it’s nice to revisit the past sometimes, as well —  especially the happiest times.

Last call for entries!

I will be drawing this Wednesday, July 1, for the winner of the autographed Harlequin novella anthology, featuring stories by bestselling authors Candace Camp, Allison Leigh and me! To enter, send me an email at gina.w@live.com — for more details, click the tab above marked “Enter to Win.” Good luck!

I’ve mentioned before that I write to music. It’s part of my writing routine — I check my email, look at my social networking sites, make a cup of tea, and slip on my headphones, and then I’m ready to write. Sometimes I have a particular playlist for the current work in progress (WIP), but usually I just set my iTunes to randomly play from my music library and let the music flow.

When I’m into the story, I hardly notice the songs playing in my ears. I find myself humming along sometimes without even realizing what song is playing. Sometimes I’ll look at the list to see what songs I missed while I was too deeply into the story to pay attention to the music. It’s simply background for me, a way of putting myself into the creative zone.

Apparently, I’m more aware of the music than I sometimes realize. While I was writing yesterday afternoon, I suddenly found myself feeling very sad. Almost tearfully sad, which was odd because the scene I was writing wasn’t sad at all. I was actually quite satisfied with the way it was progressing. So what, I wondered, was triggering my depression?

I realized that the song I was hearing was Diamond Rio’s “You’re Gone.” I like that song, but it is rather sad. Just for curiosity, I glanced at the list to see the songs that had played before that one. And I began to laugh. These songs had played back-to-back without my full awareness of what I was hearing:

James Blunt’s “Carry You Home.” (listening to your heart beating for the last time)

David Cook’s “Permanent” ( a beautiful song written for his dying brother)

Lifehouse’s “From Where You Are” (one of my favorite songs, but it’s about missing someone who has died)

Diamond Rio’s “You’re Gone.”

No wonder I was so sad! As much as I love all those songs, that’s like the most depressing playlist ever. Without realizing it, I had been internalizing those sad songs while I was writing. I quickly made a playlist of as many happy songs as I could find in my library and spent the rest of the afternoon listening to that!

Music is so powerful, and the poetry of the lyrics can have such an impact on the listener. I’m a huge fan of those singers and songwriters who can evoke such strong emotions with their words and/or their voices. I strive to achieve that same result with the words I choose for my stories. Sometimes I want the reader to smile or laugh; other times I deliberately try to make the reader sad for my characters’ troubles — but I always write a happy ending to leave the reader uplifted and encouraged.

I’ll listen to my sad songs again. But maybe I’ll be a little more careful to intersperse them with some happy tunes in the future.

Happy Father’s Day to any dads who might be reading this — especially my own Daddy!

Don’t forget to enter the contest for the free book giveaway (for details, click the giveaway tab above). I’ll be drawing on July 1.

I am not a hot weather person. I love cool breezes. Autumn leaves. Falling snow. Hot tea by the fire.

Hard to believe I’ve never lived in any state but Arkansas, right? Arkansas — home of the gorgeous Ozark Mountains. Home of historical Hot Springs National Park, fascinating Eureka Springs, Little Rock’s museums and restaurants and thriving River Market district, beautiful lakes and tumbling rivers and the nation’s only keep-’em-if-you-find-’em diamond field. I love my state, but our summers … whew!

It’s only June 16 and the high today was 95 degrees F. Before the first snap of the next football season, we’ll see temperatures in the triple digits — we always do here. At just after 7 p.m. this evening, it’s still 91. It will be even hotter tomorrow. And with the humidity hovering somewhere around a zillion percent, it feels like the surface of the sun on my brick patio.

Okay, maybe that was a slight exaggeration. I know there are places that are a lot hotter. And maybe I wouldn’t really enjoy living in a place that sees snow in frequent feet, rather than our rare inches, though I would love spending more of my summers strolling on breezy beaches or sitting by a cool mountain lake. Instead, I’ll keep the air conditioner blowing and the overhead fan turning while I sip iced coffee and work on my next book. And occasionally, I’ll look at pictures I’ve taken of cool — literally — places I’ve visited, like the one above I snapped on a trip through Utah last year. One benefit of a vivid imagination is that I can look at that photo and picture myself instantly there again.

Don’t forget to sign up for the free book giveaway by sending an email to me at gina.w@live.com.

In the meantime — stay cool!