My guest today is Kathy McKinsey. Kathy has been married to Murray for 31 hilarious years, and the shamelessly proud mother of five. She enjoys writing, editing, teaching braille and playing with the cat and dogs.
I think she feels the same way a lot of us do in the melt-down after Christmas. Here’s what she has to say:
I’ll confess. I’m still working on getting myself to write every day. But I’m a writer, and most days, using what goes on around me for writing is almost constantly in my mind.
My husband and I sit at a restaurant for breakfast. At the table next to us are two young men. One says, “I just woke up ten minutes ago. I splashed on some cologne and here I am.”
After church, I watch three kids race toy cars as their parents help with set-up and tear-down of our portable church.
I see a new grandfather cradle his granddaughter during our Christmas service.
During the Christmas service, the young children are on the stage, singing carols and hymns. One little boy doesn’t want to be there and continues to break away and move toward the steps. After a couple of tries, his dad goes up the stairs and picks him up, rescuing him.
All these sound like good stories.
I’m a writer, but I’m also an editor. The best thing to do is write a piece down first, not worrying about spelling, grammar, sentence structure, word usage, but I constantly stop myself as I write to fix things.
When my adult children were all in and out for Christmas, I frequently slipped away to write down things they said and did, for a blog posting about our family gathering.
My sweet husband tells me over and over how much he loves me, how happy he is to share his life with me. How can I use that in a romance about couples who are married for more than thirty years?
I sit on my front porch swing and write down words to put in my “senses” list. A crow cawing; an owl; a car driving by on the wet street; the smell of flowers; the heat of sunshine on my face; a train whistle; kids screaming with laughter, shrieking; teens playing basketball at the house next door; smell of someone barbecuing; the smell of cookies baking from a house window; the neighbor next door running his weed-whip; wind blowing rain against my face.
I want to save all this for stories.
My first book, ALL MY TEARS, is scheduled to be published by Mantle Rock Publishing in April. It is a collection of women’s fiction novellas.
I wanted to tell stories about women where the villain was in themselves, their struggles, pains, goals.
It is not an autobiography, but I have dealt with chronic depression for over thirty years; I’ve wrestled with forgiveness. I’ve struggled with how I can do things that make me feel needed and competent—as a wife, mother and worker. God has blessed me through these stories.
Here’s how you can find Kathy McKinsey