A novelist, not a poet? Think again

Posted by Jennifer Hatt on 28 April 2015 | 2 Comments

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What Martin Short and I have in common

Posted by Jennifer Hatt on 10 April 2015 | 23 Comments

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Well, not a lot. I adore him. He has never even heard of me. But there are three things we share ...

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True love story: The Tulips

Posted by Jennifer Hatt on 21 January 2015 | 1 Comments

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  It was a day I was tempted to erase from the calendar. Then a trip to the grocery store changed everything.
  My dad had just been taken to hospital, again, in a city just far enough away to be beyond reach. I had just returned home only a few days before, had rescheduled appointments, needed to try and put in a few hours for pay .... and on and on. I attempted to forge on while I awaited news from Emergency, and checked my list., Buy a thank-you bouquet for a local merchant who went above and beyond in supporting our author and her book sales. I scooted into the supermarket, scanned the floral arrays, and settled on a pot of tulips, just barely beginning to open. I hustled to the checkout, one ear to my phone, a hand on my wallet, as if moving quickly would somehow get this chaotic day over with faster.
  "Aren't these lovely!"  the cashier enthused. Alice, her name tag said. A pleasant lady somewhere between my age and my mom's, I'm guessing.
  Drawn in my her warmth, I smiled and agreed.
  "My husband loved tulips. When he passed away, oh, about 12 years ago now," she paused, bag in midair, then tucked the plant inside, "we had tulips at the funeral home. All kinds of them." She tapped the register keys. "Our best man officiated ... he wasn't a full minister when he married us," she chatted as we waited for my debit card to be approved. "There was one big tulip that wasn't open. But when the minister started the service, it opened. Right then. Just like that." 
  I swallowed against the lump in my throat. "That was a beautiful story," I whispered. "What an amazing thing.'
  "Yes, it was," she beamed, handing me my bag. "You have a good day."
  I was now. Even the lump in my throat suddenly became beautiful, a sign that I could be touched by another's words, that I could feel more than resentment and exhaustion.
  That is why we need to share our stories. That is love.

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Embracing my inner hermit to be a better marketer

Posted by Jennifer Hatt on 19 January 2015 | 18 Comments

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     I come from a long line of hermits. But there are five ways that can work in my favour.

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Writing Rose, the character I didn't want to know

Posted by Jennifer Hatt on 21 November 2014 | 0 Comments

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Writers control the story. So why choose a main character I didn’t like? Simple answer: he did, my male lead Jack, years ago, when I wrote my first book, Finding Maria. Rose was his love, his choice, and ultimately, his source of heartbreak when suddenly she was gone. To love Jack, which I do, hence the series of books to explore his life, I had to at least acknowledge the woman who made him a husband and father, and over two decades evolved to be the centre of his world. His heart had made its choice. To do justice to his story, I had to share hers, and that meant getting past the prickly habits and annoying weaknesses to the heart and soul of this woman. I didn’t have to like her, but I did have to understand her.

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One nurse's journey: now available

Posted by Jennifer Hatt on 1 August 2014 | 1 Comments

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What a proud day! In hand is our first title published for a new author: she's sweet and scrappy, courageous and honest, just like her story. I can't wait to introduce them both.

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Seed, Feed 'n' Weed: using stress to strengthen my spirit

Posted by Jennifer Hatt on 14 July 2014 | 4 Comments

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In May, stress was winning I came close to giving up. Instead, I hit pause, and tried something new. And it worked. 

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Lessons from a clothesline

Posted by Jennifer Hatt on 20 June 2014 | 0 Comments

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My basement clothesline now sags with dripping wet clothes. The forecast said thunder showers; I was swayed by the brilliant blue sky. So who do I blame: nature, myself, or this bloody Nova Scotia weather that changes literally in the blink of an eye?

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