Mystery Books Like You've Never Seen Before!

Snow College Library was full of mystery last semester as they covered some of their books in brown paper, leaving only vague clues on the front as to the contents. 

I checked a couple of them out just to see what they were about. One was a book I'd read before, called, "Quiet." (The clue? "Shhh.") The other was a collection of Sherlock Holmes stories! Being a fan, I read those with delight. (Clue: a drawing of footprints and a magnifying glass on the brown paper!)
Are you the kind of person who would take a chance on a paper covered book? Or do you like to be certain of what you're getting?

A Book Loving Fan Showed Up On My Doorstep!

Meet the amazing Jeff Rasmussen, who showed up at my front door asking to buy an out-of-print "Manti Tornado Stories" book. Luckily for both of us, I had a few on hand. Then he pulled out his electronic pad, checked his list of books to get, found more of my titles there, and bought those, too.

Now when I meet with agent Michael Bourret later today, I can tell him that fans are beating down my door to buy my books.

Well, they're beating on my door with their fists, anyway!

I'll let you know what happens with the agent meeting, but maybe it will have to be after I teach my class on ghostwriting.

BOO!

  

Remodeling

Ever since my bookcases collapsed, I have not seemed to be able to get on top of the clutter. It seems that most of what's left is, well, books. I just can't throw them away, and I have to go through them to see which ones I can possibly part with for library donations. I mean, without bookshelves, where else can I put them? I have started a stack against the wall, bricklayer style, of titles I want to read and then possibly donate.
Another squirrel in the coconut tree is that Bron wants to paint his room... at least, I thought he wanted to paint his room. Now it appears that he wants ME to HELP him paint his room. I already spent about 4 hours scraping wallpaper off the narrow wall of his room (the only place three layers were plastered, thank goodness.) I thought I'd done my decorator time. But apparently not.
Hey, I know! We can re-do Bron's room with bookcase walls! That will solve everything.

ForgedInTheRefinersFire

How did you come up with the title for your book? It’s so fitting.

Elizabeth Cheever, my co-author, initially came up with Refiner’s Fire part. I liked it but it seemed to be incomplete. One morning I puttering around the house taking of things and the whole came into my mind. It really does fit the process we go through. The forging process burns away all the imperfections and dross leaving beautiful, shiny, valuable gold. That is what mortality is all about, burning away our weaknesses and imperfections and rejoicing in the perfection which remains.

What inspired you to collect stories of hardship people have had in their lives?

Both Elizabeth and I have undergone a number of trials in our lives, as has everyone. There were times when I literally felt as if I would drown in the fear. But always, if I could find a quiet hospital corner and prayer, the tremendous comfort and peace which would envelop me was amazing. I am a firm believer that we are given our obstacles, trials and tragedies so that we not only learn from them, but also share those experiences with others that they might be uplifted and strengthened in their own journeys.

Was it difficult to get people to share stories so up close and personal to them?

Not really. Elizabeth and I sent emails out to everyone we knew, and asked them to forward them across the world, asking for stories that fit a particular criteria. In other words, the people who had worked their way through the darkness to come to the light on the other side. The purpose of the book was to help others to understand they are not alone.

How do you think that people who shared their stories benefited from telling them?

You know, that’s an interesting question and one I hadn’t thought of. For myself, I know there is a general catharsis when my trial becomes the written word. Somehow, some way, it is my hope that my trial and the lessons learned have given others the strength and courage to go on. That alone gives me a measure of peace and strength. So I guess it my hope that this very same phenomena for each of the other people who shared their stories.

How has compiling these stories effected you?

In all honesty, I was blown away. For instance, although Hazel would disagree, Hazel’s story of the horse rearing up and falling backwards on her, crushing her pelvis, made me stop and say: “Okay, my life just isn’t that hard. Holy cow!” Oddly enough, Hazel, upon reading the other stories said the exact same thing. So for me, they have given me strength, courage and knowledge. Each of these people shared how they overcame their trials and within the pages of this book are suggestions, woven in and out of the stories, to overcoming your own trials. The first thing, and most important, is to lift that load off your shoulders and turn it over to the Savior. Not an easy thing to do. When that advice was given to me in a priesthood blessing I puzzled for several days trying to figure out how to do that. Then it came into my mind to picture my troubles and woes as a huge, heavy overcoat literally drowning me. I then allowed the Savior, as any good gentleman would do, to lift that coat from my shoulders, along with all my troubles and worries, at place it on His own. Rather simplistic, but it worked.

What kind of feedback have you gotten from people who’ve read your book? Has it changed anyone’s view of the Savior?

I’ve received a number of emails, and certain a number of reviews have mentioned this as well, how the people who shared their stories in this book has literally changed their lives. For some it helped me to see what was holding them back and they shook that burden off and started moving forward. For others in the midst of great trials it gave them hope to know they were not alone in their suffering. And for yet others, it inspired them to greater heights. All of these emails and comments have lightened my heart tremendously. For the greatest mission I have is to testify of the Savior’s love, strength, courage and loyalty to each of the children of God. It is my hope that this book portrayed that adequately.

Do you plan a sequel?

Yes, it is called “No Pressure, No Diamonds.” Anyone who is interested in contributing a story should read “Forged in the Refiner’s Fire” and then email me their story at ces@candacesalima.com. Elizabeth and I will go over all the stories and choose the ones that best fit the message of “No Pressure, No Diamonds.”

“Forged in the Refiner’s Fire”, along with my others, can be purchased at www.candacesalima.com/inPrint.htm.

REVIEW:
Have you ever had days...weeks...years... when you think nothing is going right? Do you ever look up at the Heavens, clench your fists, and cry, "Why me?"
"Forged in the Refiner's Fire" is a collection of essays by people who've been, there, done that, and later found the gem hidden in the midst of their trial. You have to dig a ditch to get water to the crops, you have to suffer growing pains to become an adult, you have to sweat to strengthen your muscles.
So when those trials come, pick up this book and find friends who know what you're going through. Take the lessons already learned, and thank God for your trials.

Curler Head

After filling my water bottle, I walked back to my book booth at the Mormon Miracle Pageant and saw the back of a lady who was looking at books. I don't know how old she was, but she's been on earth longer than me. She was a petite thing, just over five feet tall, and her gray hair was rolled up all over her head in cheerful yellow curlers.
"Hello," I said.
She turned and looked up at me with the roundest, bluest eyes I'd ever seen. Although she had a few lines around her mouth and the corners of her eyes, she had the smoothest, pinkest cheeks of any grandma I'd ever seen.
"Hello," she answered. She held up one of my books. "This looks so interesting." Then she lowered the book and thumbed her check book with her other hand. "I've only got one check until I get home, though," she explained, her eyes tight with worry. She turned my book over and read the back again. "It looks so interesting."
"A lot of people said they've enjoyed it," I said.
"Is there any other place I could get it later?" she asked, turning it over to read the back again, reluctant to put it down.
"Yes, but it won't be at the sale price."
"I see." Her yellow curlers bobbed as she nodded, and I could see a disappointed little girl inside the wrinkles.
"But I'll tell you what I'll do," I said. "You can take the book now and mail me the money later."
Her eyes flew up to my face. "Really?" she asked. "You would trust me?"
I smiled at her eagerness. "Of course," I said. "Anyone who loves books is trustworthy."
So I gave her a card. She insisted on writing her address and phone number down in my planner for me. Then she held the book in the crook of her arm and walked away, turning back once to wave before her yellow curlers and sparkling blue eyes disappeared behind a partition.
Her check arrived yesterday. As I said, she is a book lover, and book lovers are some of the most trustworthy people I've ever met.

Looking For a Good Book

Being a victim of an occasional Bahlmann Boy Prank, when my son announced that someone was "here to see me," I asked, "Are you serious?" Sure enough, Clint was at my door, looking to buy one of my books that his neighbor recommended. The funny thing is, the neighbor didn't know my exact address, and neither did Clint. But Clint felt confident he could follow the directions to turn down my street and stop at the house with the red PT Cruiser parked in front.
But there was a problem. My Cruiser was not parked in front of my house. In a secret agent moment, I'd parked it beside an old church one house away from mine. Why? Because my youngest son was waving the water hose around the front yard like a deranged elephant, and I had just washed the car and didn't want it all spotty.
So Clint went to the house across the street from the church, and then to the next house, and the one after that, which happened to be right across the street from me. Those neighbors kindly pointed him in the right direction.
And do you know what? Once he found me, Clint ended up buying two books. Perhaps the hunt makes the trophy more dear. Maybe it's time to unlist my phone number. I could be independantly wealthy in no time!