When I was a little girl, I loved sitting at the feet of my grandmum coloring in my ballet books while she twisted tiny pieces of wire and blue or green beads into rosaries and spun tales about Ireland. How my English great-grandmum, a grand lady, ran away from her overbearng, stuffy father to marry her Irish rogue.
I used to pretend she became a ballet dancer like the drawings I colored in Degas pastels.
She didn’t.
But I spent hours coloring and cutting out the dancers. I discovered I had an artistic bent like my grandpop but I also loved telling stories like my grandmum. So at times in my life, I used my artistic talents to get the job done; other times, I wrote stories.
Both require intense concentration as well as precious time. (I swear there’s a watch that can stop time with its golden hands, but I haven’t found it on Amazon). And sometimes you have to make a choice.
Which brings me to my current dilemma.
I had an intense year writing SISTERS AT WAR with ‘life’ getting in the way numerous times as well as reliving diffucult past experiences to capture the emotions of the story. Then the book came out and I loved making the pretty graphics, the videos, the everything you get to do that’s artsy and fun…
But here’s the rub.
Readers are waiting for the sequel called SISTERS OF THE RESISTANCE… some want to read it now.
Oh, my, I’m still writing the sequel.
Which means I need to take a deep dive and put away my coloring book and crayons. Write, write, write. I know where the story is going, new characters to add to the tension between the Beaufort Sisters in my story, a life-altering experience for Eve and a heartbreak for Justine, but there are no shortcuts on this journey. Writing about WW2 requires maddening research as well as intense, emotional dialogue.
So, mes amis, I have pull back for a while on social media while I finish writing Sisters of the Resistance.
I’ll be here once a month, but not so much on other venues.
Alas, I’m going to close now. I’ve got research to do and a chapter to write tonight. I hope you enjoy my short video about what’s going on with Sisters At War.
See you soon.
Jina
Who are the Beaufort Sisters?
They’re beautiful
They’re smart
They’re dangerous
They’re at war with the Nazis… and each other.
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https://www.tiktok.com/@jinabacarrauthor/video/7288162713392467243?is_from_webapp=1&sender_device=pc&web_id=7243220243374556714 Sisters At War — new release Paris WW2 When I was a little girl, I loved sitting at the feet of my grandmum coloring in my ballet books while she twisted tiny pieces of wire and blue or green beads into rosaries and spun tales about Ireland. How my English great-grandmum, a grand lady, […]
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https://www.tiktok.com/@jinabacarrauthor/video/7288162713392467243?is_from_webapp=1&sender_device=pc&web_id=7243220243374556714 Sisters At War — new release Paris WW2 When I was a little girl, I loved sitting at the feet of my grandmum coloring in my ballet books while she twisted tiny pieces of wire and blue or green beads into rosaries and spun tales about Ireland. How my English great-grandmum, a grand lady, […]
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https://www.tiktok.com/@jinabacarrauthor/video/7288162713392467243?is_from_webapp=1&sender_device=pc&web_id=7243220243374556714 Sisters At War — new release Paris WW2 When I was a little girl, I loved sitting at the feet of my grandmum coloring in my ballet books while she twisted tiny pieces of wire and blue or green beads into rosaries and spun tales about Ireland. How my English great-grandmum, a grand lady, […]
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https://www.tiktok.com/@jinabacarrauthor/video/7288162713392467243?is_from_webapp=1&sender_device=pc&web_id=7243220243374556714 Sisters At War — new release Paris WW2 When I was a little girl, I loved sitting at the feet of my grandmum coloring in my ballet books while she twisted tiny pieces of wire and blue or green beads into rosaries and spun tales about Ireland. How my English great-grandmum, a grand lady, […]
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https://www.tiktok.com/@jinabacarrauthor/video/7288162713392467243?is_from_webapp=1&sender_device=pc&web_id=7243220243374556714 Sisters At War — new release Paris WW2 When I was a little girl, I loved sitting at the feet of my grandmum coloring in my ballet books while she twisted tiny pieces of wire and blue or green beads into rosaries and spun tales about Ireland. How my English great-grandmum, a grand lady, […]
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