Kathryn Rankin CovingtonKathryn Rankin Covington

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Part One: The Dream

“Let’s start at the very beginning. A very good place to start. When you read, you begin with A B C. When you sing, you begin with Do Re Mi…”

Somebody called Julie sang that once, and I think she made a solid point. The beginning of writing a novel is an idea. A question. A picture in your head that just won’t leave. When I began writing “The Ripple of Stones” I couldn’t get this question out of my head: who would we be if we could let go of who we were “supposed” to be? As the idea developed, other questions gnawed at me:

“How can a series of misunderstandings lead to heartbreak?”

“Why is it easier to put up barriers than be truthful?”

“What would star-crossed-lovers look like in modern times? How do we legitimize that trope and allow them to overcome?”

“Where does the obsession come from for Michigan beach stones? Is there something more there? Something deeper? What would that look like?”

A few weeks ago, I had the pleasure of sitting in my parents’ living room chatting with them about “The Ripple of Stones” and my Dad was telling me all of his favorite parts and quotes. Spoiler alert, the love scenes were not my father’s favorite parts of my book…

He began to nudge me about the sequel. More magic, he said. More of the sitting on the dock and stretching the sunlight. Less heartwarming schlock. Definitely less kissing. Maybe next time, he suggested, there could be a troll under the bridge, or a dragon flying down from the Upper Peninsula. “These are excellent ideas,” I said, laughing. “Feel free to write your book: ‘The Dragon of the UP’ sounds fantastic.”

Now that “The Ripple of Stones” is sold in stores throughout Michigan as well as online, I am beginning a new novel. The second. The Prequel. I invite you to join me as we walk through the process of writing a novel together. You will need a notebook or notepad, a writing utensil, your voice-to-notes app on your phone, and an unfettered imagination.

In my process, I can’t begin anything until I begin to meet and create my main character. So, let’s meet yours as well. As you begin, answer the following questions. (My main character will identify as female. Please feel free to adjust your pronouns as needed:

*What is her name?

*Why is that her name?

*What culture is that from?

*Why?

*What does the name mean?

*What is the etymology of the name?

*Where does she live when we first meet her?

*What does it look like, smell like?

*What does the air feel like when it brushes her skin?

See my sketch below:

Next, close your eyes and let your mind wander. (Give the dog a bone, give the spouse the remote, give the kids a screen, go lock yourself in your car… whatever it takes to get some quiet in your brain so you can imagine….) Make some notes. Write down every idea. Don’t question and definitely don’t judge. Just scribble.

(Below, I’m going to show you some of my scribbles. I trust you. I like you. I know you’re not going to lift any of these ideas verbatim because I know you have your own even more brilliant and interesting ones! Thank you for helping me create an environment of honesty and respect as we share and work on our ideas together!)

I might use some of these ideas, I might use none of them. But if I don’t write them down, I’ll forget them. For “The Ripple of Stones,” I wrote down “what’s that thing people do with rocks in a tower – a cairn I think?” I intended it to be a unique but miniscule feature of the cottage driveway; it ended up being a centerpiece of the entire plot.

…Glad I wrote it down.

Ah… and speaking of PLOT! Did you know books need a plot? When I was writing “The Ripple of Stones,” I knew this in theory, but not in practice. I wrote five pages of musing that I was convinced were brilliant. As I was writing, I thought to myself, “Katy, you have written the next ‘The Goldfinch.” Perhaps the next ‘Jane Eyre.’ This is tragic. It’s heartbreaking. It shows the true core of your character’s heart and soul.” I read these five pages back and guess what? They were absolutely terrible. Do you know why? No plot. No action. And therefore, no story. Jane Eyre has a plot: orphaned, angst, bad job, meet-cute with dark and brooding dude, crazy wife locked in the attic, house on fire, running away in the rain, nearly dying of being wet and cold, almost marrying the wrong guy, more fire, blindness, and finally, marriage. A plot.

According to the experts, there are 7 to 9 basic plots. Here are some of the articles I read when I was researching:

Wikipedia (I know, I know, but I like that it gives concrete examples and concise explanations)

How-to-Write-a-Book-Now

Reedsy Blog (more jargony, but you’re smart; you can handle it. Plus, it’s why I put this one 3rd.)

If you hit on one you like, start doing an image search. “Overcoming the Monster Plot Structure” or “Three Act Plot Structure” or “A Hero’s Journey Plot Structure” I love the image searches!

For the Prequel, I picked “A Hero’s Journey.” Because I cannot retain a scrap of information without writing it down, I copied a few different charts.


I did begin writing “The Ripple of Stones” using A Hero’s Journey Plot Structure, but ultimately changed to Three Act Plot Structure. Always allow yourself room to make changes as the story develops.

So there you go! If you’ve got some initial ideas written down, and have learned about and chosen an initial plot structure, you are well on your way!! (Pro tip – the title comes waaaaaaaaay later, after you figure out what you are actually writing about.)

“But Katy,” you say, “What if I have more ideas later? What if I’m at my day job or driving the car or helping my kids or feeding my hedgehog or mid-nap and I can’t get to my Precious Writer’s Notebook???” That is where the voice-to-text comes in! I know you have your phone on you. It’s right there. Don’t play. Give that thought to Siri! Right now!

“Hey Siri, make a Note.” Then say whatever you have to say. When your colleagues/passengers/kids/hedgehog/dream dragon of the upper peninsula look at you askance, shrug and say,

“Hey. I’m writing my book.”

The Ripple of Stones Front Cover

Now Available! “The Ripple of Stones”

CLICK HERE TO BUY NOW!!

I am so thrilled to announce that my debut novel, “The Ripple of Stones” is available now in eBook and paperback from Amazon*! I’ve wanted to write a book since I read Little Women at age nine and wanted to be Jo (and also Meg and sort of Amy but secretly feared I might be Beth…). I started my first book when I was thirteen and it was pretty terrible. I started this one in 2018 after moving back home to Michigan. Three years later, I have a professional editor in Aimé Merizon, made friends with a professional Canadian artist (and fellow #teachermama) Nicole Warrington who created the cover art, and received immeasurable support and help from the tribe around me. I hope you love reading this novel as much as loved creating it.

The Ripple of Stones Front Cover

5 star-rated on Amazon! Read reviews here!

“The Ripple of Stones is a perfect book to reminisce about summers gone by and life to come, with a twist of mystery and magic. Explores the complications of relationships and dreams. The author brings you on the journey with such mastery that you can feel yourself in the scenes with the emotions of each character. Truly a treasure – don’t miss out!”

“The perfect book to kick off my summer reading! The story line is a bit of mystery and romance meets the ever relatable family drama. It’s got just the right twist in the plot to set itself apart from other books in its genre. The authors detail made me completely envision the Up North charm and painted a complete picture of the quaint family cottage where the story takes place. Anyone who loves a good read while sitting on a dock sipping a drink in the sun will love this book.”

Read the summary here:

Teacher Brigid dares to break the estrangement between her mother and grandfather and stay at tranquil Cairn Cottage for the summer. A sailboat is delivered to a neighboring cottage and a man named Gabe walks into her life, making her feel something she has never felt before. As Brigid and Gabe quickly fall for each other, and incur the inexplicable wrath of Brigid’s mother, Brigid discovers that things at Cairn Cottage are not what they seem. She begins to uncover the secret mystical Stone Society and her role in it, all of which threaten the life she knows…or open the doors to the life she was always meant to live.

With roots in magical realism and romance with a dose of family drama, this book will connect with readers across genres. The mystery revolving around lake stones and the Society that venerates nature is both timeless and trendy, and will connect to any reader interested in preserving the earth.

If you love “The Notebook,” you will love this book.

If you are tired of the confines of life’s mundanities, you will love watching Brigid struggle with and overcome hers.

If you have a sneaking (or bold) interest in the mystical properties of stones, you will love this book.

If you are curious about (or practice) Earth-based spirituality, you will love this book.

If you like mysteries minus murder and death and gore, you will love this book.

If you have a family member or friend with whom you seem to be in constant conflict, you will love this book.

If you are a native Michigander who knows the joy of finding the perfect Petoskey stone on a sandy beach and can just feel the softness of an Up North summer breeze on your cheek, you will love this book.

If you long for that place, that home, that spot among the trees that seems to be lost to the past, you will love this book.

“The Ripple of Stones” is a story of self-discovery, love, and what could be if we only were brave enough to open up our hearts.

CLICK HERE FOR YOUR NEW FAVORITE SUMMER READ!

*Expanded distribution to Apple Books, Nook, and other fine retailers coming soon! Enter your email for these and further updates! I solemnly swear not to spam you or sell your email!

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“The Wives of Sunset” Chapter 2: Urban Chickens

A rooster crow blared through the sound of early morning traffic.  Marissa smiled and stretched underneath her organic cotton duvet. Beside her, Dane’s muscular, tattooed arm draped over their son.  Oliver had crawled into their bed last night with his peach blankie and stuffed sloth, a victim of another nightmare.  Dane was so good with him. And he was a model father. As a session musician, he was able to stay home most days with Oliver, writing his own music in his basement studio.  It made her proud.

The rooster crowed again, insisting that Marissa put her feet to the floor.  She loved this house. They bought ten years ago for an amazing deal. The sellers, poor folks, had gotten in way over their heads financially and sunk further when the Recession hit. They were saved from bankruptcy when Marissa and Dane bought the house.  Over the years, Marissa had finished it Earth-conscious materials. Sustainable wood flooring, solar panels on the roof.  Even the paint was non-toxic. Last summer, they had gotten the chickens. Dane had built the hen house himself.  

You can’t control women.

Read On

The Wives of Sunset – The Pie

The Pie

Her bare foot made contact with the yellow plastic blade. Grasping for the railing, she watched the toy bulldozer escape the crush of her toes and tumble down the stairs. The cherry pie wobbled in her palm. She executed a clumsy jump over the last few steps in an attempt to keep herself upright, but her head slammed into the drop ceiling. A screeching pain brought her to her knees.

The pie flew through the air. Jessie watched it land upside down on the tile floor of the basement, ruby-colored juice flowing over scattered bits of dog hair and dust.

“Damnit.”

Jessie rubbed her head, feeling the gunk of three-days worth of dry shampoo in her red hair.

“Mama!!!” Two little voices floated down the stairs. Why were they awake this early? She sighed as she heaved herself up off the floor. Four black paws came scrambling down the stairs, canine eyes popping at the sight of a free dessert. Jessie rolled her eyes to stop the tears as she watched the dog lap up the twenty-dollar pie. Serves me right for buying it, she thought. If I were better at this, I would’ve made one.

The calls from the living room were becoming more insistent. Shoulders slumped, Jessie made her way up from the basement to get the paper towels and the dish soap. God, she was sick of cleaning.

The children were curled up in the corner of the couch, faces shining the early morning sunrise. Despite the pie, she smiled. The kids were so cute. They had sat like this since they were toddlers, never touching, but right beside each other.

“Mama! Mom!” It was always a demand.

Jessie forced her voice to be soft. “What’s up, loves?”

“Can you hand me the remote? Please.”

“It’s my turn!” Benny’s little voice piped in indignation. “She’s been watching Mermaid Millie forever and I woke up first!” Jessie lifted the remote from the coffee table she had refinished last summer. The trendy ebony paint was chipping along the sides and there was a line of Sharpie across the carefully refinished top. She covered the Sharpie mark with a coaster.

“Avonlea, how many have you watched?” she asked, longing for this negotiation to end so she could pour a cup of coffee.

“What??” her daughter protested. “He just got here and I was watching it!”

“That wasn’t my question,” Jessie said, holding the remote close to her chest.

“She’s watched one million of them and the whale guy is scary!” Benny whined.

“Avonlea.” Warning lay in Jessie’s tone.

“It’s not fair.” Nine-year-old Avonlea glared at her brother with the venom of a teenager.

“Life isn’t fair,” Jessie said through clenched teeth. “Here Benny.” Jessie proffered the remote. “Avonlea, he can watch a show, and then you can watch another Mermaid show. But I need your help after that.”

“But MOM!!” The little frenemies united in protest.
“Enough! I can’t take it!” Her tone startled them both and the look in their eyes piled onto her guilt. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I just dropped that pie we bought and I need to go clean it up. And I guess figure out something for dessert…”

“It’s okay,” Benny said soothingly. “We don’t like pie.”

“Sorry Mama,” said Avonlea. “Maybe we can have Oreos.”

“We can’t bring Oreos to the block party,” Jessie muttered. She heard the neighbor’s rooster crow and sighed. She could strangle that stupid bird. It wasn’t even eight a.m. and she had already failed.

Red Flags

R

You know what’s fun about editing your novel? Reading through the passages you wrote months ago, especially all the character development and sweet meet-cutes.

You know what’s less fun? Realizing that the Love Interest’s flaws would completely scare the Main Character away based on small but integral incidents that influence her internal journey written in the beginning of the book. Incidents you completely forgot that you wrote.

A believable Love Interest has to have flaws. These flaws inevitably create conflict and shape major drama throughout the romantic story arc. Love Interest’s flaws might be forgivable to you, the author, but it’s really super great when you realize that these flaws are not at all forgivable to Main Character.

We’re getting close to Valentine’s Day. I don’t know where you are on your romantic journey, but I feel pretty confident that we all have one or two “what the **** was I thinking?!?” experiences. Because I need a new flaw for my Love Interest (or a new character history for my Main Character…)I made this little poll.

(side note – I learned how to embed a poll INTO the website. And GIFs -did you notice??? I’m basically Steve Jobs now.)

In honor of Love Interest’s Flaws, and those relationship flaws we’d rather forget, I invite you to participate!

Which Red Flag trait in a potential romantic partner would absolutely send you running for the hills? All responses anonymous – dig some love-based fury out of your heart and throw it on the blog. Have fun and as always, THANK YOU FOR READING!!

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  • Kathryn Rankin Covington
  • Shop
  • Local Stores carrying “The Ripple of Stones”
  • Event Calendar, 2021
  • Reviews, “The Ripple of Stones”
  • Contact Us
  • Blog
  • The BOOK
  • Poetry, The Journey Home
  • Cart
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