“Not most,” she replied. “But I do believe in the importance of guarding one’s emotions and intellect. I’m intentional about reading and writing stories that build up the mind.”
“What about expanding your mind?” he asked.
“If I want to expand my mind, I read my Bible.”
The man studied her for a beat, then returned to his seat.
Dr. Kinsley cleared his throat. “Other questions?”
The next question was for Mr. Richards. Olivia laid down her pen, reminded again of the peculiar nature of her work. Her loyal readers liked her stories, but the literary world as a whole dismissed her. For some reason,wholesomewas offensive to them, but she had a sacred responsibility to her Maker and her readers to offer redemption through her words.
It shouldn’t matter that the intellectual set would never read or appreciate her work, but she continually had to come to terms with the criticism from newspaper reviewers across the country. She’d never win an award or be featured in the literary magazines, but God had entrusted this gift of writing to her. For the past twenty years, she’d tried to steward it well, faithfully recording every story He inspired.
“Mrs. Belle,” another student said. “Your books always have a supernatural moment. Do you believe in the supernatural, or is this simply a plot technique?”
Olivia studied the woman, noting her stylish bob and curious gaze. Had she actually read a Via Belle book or was she ramping up for a greater critique?
“I believe God is present in our world as miracles happen every day. Sadly, I think we often overlook the miraculous as coincidental or even scientific, but whenever someone is rescued or a relationship is restored or a chick hatches from an egg, I see the hand of God. For that matter,whenever I put words onto paper, it’s miraculous. We were all created to create.”
The student smiled at her, and in that moment, Olivia realized she just might have a friend at Winfield.
She relaxed as the questions continued. All she could offer was her perspective, and she wanted to give it with a generous heart, no matter the critics, even sharing with the students how losing Graham had disoriented her and her ability to find words.
Hattie had been right. It was good for her to spend time among her peers.
The hour passed quickly, and when the panel ended, right on the hour of eight, a group of young women swarmed the stage. Olivia thought they wanted to speak with the other writers until she recognized her titles in their hands.
The first student, hugging a copy ofGrace Havento her cardigan, had asked about the supernatural. “I adore your books,” she said.
“I’m so glad,” Olivia replied, marveling that this young lady enjoyed reading a novel written for her mother’s generation.
“We begged Professor Farrow to invite you,” another student explained, tapping the open toes of her wedge sandals on the stage. “We’re pleased as punch that you came.”
So she hadn’t been an afterthought, at least not for these students. It shouldn’t have mattered, but for some reason, it did, whittling its way past her doubts. Even though not everyone liked her work, perhaps she did belong.
“Thank you for having me.”
Another student held out a copy ofSparrow Island. “Would you sign it?”
“Of course.” Olivia removed the cap from her pen. “What’s your name?”
“Isadore Brooks.” The girl giggled. “But my friends call me Izzy.”
Olivia opened the book on the table. “Should I sign it to Izzy then?”
The girl beamed, her eyes matching the sand color in her scarf. “Yes, please.”
Izzy,she wrote.May the light of your life continue to shine. Via Belle.
Izzy held open the cover to dry the ink. “I’m sorry Professor Farrow couldn’t meet you.”
Olivia glanced across the auditorium as the crowd trickled out. “I didn’t realize he was missing.”
Izzy shrugged. “Something must’ve kept him away.”
A third student approached, book in hand. “I’m Annabelle.”
Olivia froze at the sweet name of her daughter. Had she lived, Annabelle would have been the age of these students. Perhaps at a university, reading incessantly like her father and writing like her mother, talking books with friends.
