Author: Kim Janine Ligon

Today is the eighth anniversary of the birth of this blog to track my author journey. If it were a marriage, the traditional gift is bronze for strength and durability in blending two lives. The symbolism is also appropriate for the blending of my life in retirement from my first career in healthcare technology with my second journey as an author. When I started on this path eight years ago, I wasn’t certain where it would lead—if it would lead anywhere.

The path has had some bumps and unexpected curves as most of them do. But, for the most part, it has been remarkably smooth and extremely satisfying. Yes, I’ve had some dreams that I had to rush to get on paper so my characters would let me enjoy some nocturnal peace. I’ve had some epic rewrites and do-overs to resolve the legal peril I inadvertently put my heroine in or to be more succinct for my weary editor.

I’ve learned so much about publishing and the hundreds of things—big and little—that have to be just right for your story to see the light of day sitting on a bookshelf. I’ve become a more appreciative reader since I know how the sausage is made.

I have been blessed with early readers who help me work out the kinks before my editor ever sees the first page. My sweet, patient husband is on the top of the list of those pre-editors. And I love to see old friends and make new ones at my book signings. Thank you for making the effort to come out for my events.

There is nothing like the adrenalin rush of reading the email saying “yes, we’d like to see more” until you get the one with your book contract attached, then finally, the over-the-top-pinch-me-I’m-dreaming feeling of getting your world wide release date. I’m still delighted when I walk in the Barnes and Noble and see my books on the rack or the table of mysteries or Christmas books. I love it when Amazon sends me a notice of my new book based on prior reading.  

My sixth book “Abby’s Gift”—another Lansdale cozy mystery with a happy-ever-after and laced with faith—will be published by The Wild Rose Press on May 18, 2026. I’ll provide more information when it is available for pre-order. If you are in the Tuscaloosa area, my book signing is tentatively set for the afternoon of Saturday, May 23^rd. Please mark your calendars.

Thank you for your love and encouragement along this journey; for buying, reading, and reviewing my books; for inviting me to your book clubs; and most of all, for providing a reason for the journey to continue by blessing each step of my author journey with joy. I couldn’t do this without you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Enjoy!

I have daily reminders that I am getting older.

* Sometimes, I look at my husband while we are watching television and ask, “What was that a commercial for?” Neither of us has any idea what the product being advertised is. That must mean we don’t need it. Or the marketing is woefully off target.

*  I can’t scan a bar code to make a reservation or make videos with my phone because it is a dumb-as-in-not-smart-flip phone that makes phone calls and gives me texting ability. My old one didn’t text.

* I abhor self-check out lines, especially when you have a lot to check out. I’d rather stand in a line and be checked out than do it myself.

* I already miss pennies. Their demise just seems like another reason to drive everyone away from cash and to a debit or credit card. How hard would it have been to make them from something cheaper?

* I write checks to pay my bills. You used to get books of fifty to one hundred checks. Now, they come in books of thirty. Very few of us must still be writing checks.   

* I liked balancing my check book when you actually flipped through physical checks to do it. Some of my nieces and nephews wrote ‘Thank you’ over their endorsement on the back knowing I’d see the returned check and then they considered themselves off the hook for a thank you note. If they still do that, I don’t see the back of the check. But I do sometimes get a thank you e-mail. 

* I detest trying to fix a problem through the AI generated customer service. It was hard enough when you got a live person on the phone who might be patient with the old woman on this end of the phone. I must not speak fluent AI…or they don’t learn very quickly because they keep asking me the same question and trying to pawn me off on their website–and that was where I started!

I had a long career in information systems so it probably seems strange that I don’t embrace all the new technologies—I refuse to say they are all advancements. Email communication and text messages are efficient and I use them in my author life. But no technology replaces a voice telephone call to really connect with the other person. Of course, the best is a face-to-face meeting where hugs are exchanged before anything else.

The older I get, the less I like much of the business world around me. I am becoming a modern age Luddite. You history majors will remember that Luddites were the English factory workers who smashed machines during the Industrial Revolution because they feared the machines were taking over their jobs. According to the Oxford dictionary, today it is a derogatory term meaning being opposed to new technology and ways of working.

I can live with that. I’ve been called worse. Enjoy! 

Earlier this summer, I worked on adding new buildings to my husband’s model railroad in our basement. I paint and put together kits and create the decals for the signage. The decals are the way to make the buildings unique. One of the kits he wanted me to build next was a printing company. My husband said I could make it The Wild Rose Press if I wanted to. So I did. The result is in this picture.

I also made this billboard to put in the parking lot of the printing company.

At the time I didn’t have another book under review or even close to being reviewed. I wasn’t sure if another book was in my future at all, but shortly after I finished the building, my muse woke up and started demanding some attention. I submitted a synopsis and manuscript for another Lansdale, Wisconsin mystery with a splash of romance and faith to The Wild Rose Press.

A couple of weeks ago, I received the “Congratulations” email with a contract for my sixth novel, Abby’s Gift, attached to it and it was assigned to my editor from “Running to Daylight, Kaycee John. I am very excited to be working on this story, editing and polishing so, hopefully, it can be published next summer. Kaycee has already sent my first round of edits. As soon as the Christmas gift making is completed, I’ll be able to focus on tackling them.

On the 13^th, I had my sixth book signing at our local Barnes and Noble. The events manager and I were both delighted that I sold twenty-nine books and all but eight of them to people I didn’t know. I also got five new subscribers for this blog. It was a tiring, but rewarding afternoon.

I feel like Christmas has already come. My wish for you and your family is for you to fully enjoy all the blessings and deep joy of Christmas and that 2026 will be a year of peace, prosperity, and better health for each of you. Merry Christmas!  

Coming home from the ophthalmologist earlier in the week, the car in front of us had two interesting bumper stickers I could read even though one of my eyes was fully dilated. One had a cross like the one at Calvary and it said “I’ve got a guy for that.” My mind immediately started racing. A guy for love…peace…forgiveness…eternal life…hope…

I had never seen that bumper sticker before and thought it was wonderful.

Another car passed with a tie-dyed bumper sticker saying “Choose Kindness” and a third car sported the “Do Random Acts of Kindness” sticker. I’ve seen those before and agree with their sentiments.

The second sticker on the first car said, “I hope something good happens to you today.” What a loving message to deliver to the stranger in the car behind him. It made me hope the driver who shared that sentiment was showered in all the best things, not only that day, but always.

After bumper stickers that threaten or belittle or simply spew hatred to the stranger in the car behind them, I found these refreshing. It is far too easy to be sucked into the vortex of evil swirling around us where we are assaulted by bad news, hateful language, ugly behavior from our fellow man, and general hopelessness.  I’m not Pollyanna. I know evil is real and it is in our midst. I also know there is good in the news, love in language, kindness in our fellow man and there is hope.

Last week at lunch, a friend of mine said she was being deliberate with her words. She has a new awareness of how a flippant response or off-handed remark can hurt someone when it was never her intention. She is right. Words matter. Even when you don’t know who heard (or read) them.

This is a short, but heartfelt message for you. I truly hope something good happens to you today whether you see the bumper sticker or not. And if you need someone to help you see the positive, feel the love, experience the abundance of kindness in the world—I’ve got a guy for that.

They met on a blind date and dated for nearly two years before they decided to tie the knot. They were a little cautious since it wasn’t the first marriage for either of them. He was fifty-eight and she was forty-one. He has a Boston Blackie pencil thin mustache, a full head of hair, and grown children and grands. My sister, Lori, became an instant grandmother–a role she relishes–the day she married Walter. I was proud to be her matron of honor.

I knew the attraction was serious when my sister came to visit to celebrate my birthday and couldn’t go a whole weekend without talking to Walter on the phone. Not just talking, but almost teenage cooing–like one truly smitten–arguing about who was going to hang up first. My brother-in-law of twenty-eight years was a terrific addition to the family.

While Lori gained children and grandchildren through marriage, Walter became a dog person. Lori had a Rottweiler, Sam, and a Great Pyrenees, Harry, when they married. Since Walter was retired he became their companion while Lori was at work and they became his four-legged buddies. Through the years Sam and Harry were followed by a Weimaraner, Jackson; a Jack Russell Terrier, Bailey; another Rottweiler, Edison; and his most recent companions, a Rottweiler named Koda and spoiled little French bulldog named Winston. Walter seemed to enjoy them as much as his wife did.

Walter was a bleed-scarlet-and-gray-Ohio-State fan, not because he was an alum, but because he lived much of his life within thirty minutes of the OSU stadium. It made him too nervous to watch the games live so Lori recorded them for him to watch once he knew the outcome. The one exception was when he attended the National Championship game.

Walter was an avid golfer. He shared many hours on the links with my husband and some brothers-in-law. He reached his bucket list goal of playing golf in all fifty states and played internationally in Canada with my brother-in-law, Jim O’Malley, who could never beat him.

His drink of choice when we first met him was Black Velvet and coke, but then he became a Bud Light drinker which he added a pinch of salt to. He remained loyal to them despite the kafuffle over the spokesperson and razzing by the other in-laws.

He love The Tribe- the Cleveland Indians, but did not like the political correctness motivated name change to the Guardians. On one of our couples trips, we met them in St. Louis for a Cardinals Indians baseball game. On that trip we convinced the very claustrophobic Walter to go up to the top of The Arch. The worst part wasn’t being in the small enclosed space at the top of the slightly swaying structure. It was the ride up in tiny pods where you all touched knees as it creaked and jerked to the top and then you had to get back in them to go down. He wasn’t ready to brave the caves in Chattanooga on a later trip.

Walter was from a family larger than ours. He was number twelve of thirteen children. We had to make a trip for a funeral to Canada years ago when you could cross the border with a birth certificate instead of requiring a passport. Walter’s birth certificate still showed a first name of ‘Boy’. He was allowed to enter Canada at Buffalo, NY. But he worried all weekend that U.S. Border agents might not let a man over the age of sixty back into the U.S. under the moniker ‘Boy’. But they did. Lori made arrangements for a corrected birth certificate and a passport soon after that.

Walter had a stroke in March and worked hard in Rehab with one goal in mind–to come home. When he finally got there after ten weeks in therapy, he made it clear he didn’t want anything more to do with medical interventions. No matter what. I know that was hard for Lori, the compassionate nurse, to agree to, but that is what love means. He had no fear. He knew where he would spend eternity. When the Lord wrapped Walter in divine peace to spirit him to the place of no pain, she was at his side in their home holding his hand.

Thanks for being part of our lives, Walter. We love and miss you!

For the last thirty days we have been in full on celebration mode with multiple festive gatherings to celebrate our 50^th wedding anniversary. For several months leading up to the event I got to flex my previously untested party planner muscles. I had a lot of fun doing it. More than I expected. I’m a little at sea now that everything is done. (Can you hear my sweet husband in the background saying time to work on my buildings on the railroad while you can still see and have a relatively steady hand? He may be right.)

It has been a joyous time filled with family, friends, lots of laughter, boatloads of hugs, and reconnecting with friends we haven’t seen in decades. In the middle of it all was my family reunion which meant we got to celebrate with extended family too. My ninety-year-old uncle who was my first babysitter said he never expected to be at my fiftieth wedding anniversary celebration. He gifted me with a small ceramic pitcher and basin that he had been given by his aunt and uncle (my great aunt and uncle) on the occasion of his own 50^th. My great aunt and uncle had been given it on their 50^th. So now I have a small family heirloom to enjoy until the next 50^th anniversary in the family.

We enjoyed dining and dancing and toasting. Six of my nine siblings helped us celebrate. We got to meet my husband’s college roommate’s wife and one of his daughters. My baby brother brought my best friend from college along to the party when he came from Oklahoma with his sons. We had former neighbors and friends from lots of places we have lived travel to be with us and share in our celebrations. I was overwhelmed by the love and joy that washed over us. It was wonderful to see all the smiles and feel the hugs.

This past Saturday the month of celebration concluded with the book signing for my fifth book. That seems almost as hard to believe as being married for fifty years. We have been truly blessed.

Sometimes it seems it isn’t right to celebrate when there is so much evil plaguing people around me. But I think we have to celebrate hard and frequently to show evil it doesn’t rule. Our celebrations are wrapped in thankfulness that love and joy and hope still thrive in this world and are there to buoy us up when life is hard and unrelenting. There will be illness and injury and death. But His Love will win out in the end. And that is why I celebrate unceasingly all that is good. Party on!