Author Archives: Mariella Hunt

5 Things My Garden Taught Me


I have spent the past three years gardening, confiding my secrets to the great outdoors. It taught me about far more than the different kinds of flowers and how to care from them.

Through gardening, I realized humans are just complicated plants.

I’ve learned so much truth from Mother Nature and her behavior as the seasons change from warm to cold. She’s taught me about persistence and told me that it’s okay to go slow at first. She also assured me that it’s okay to stop what I’m doing and “sleep” for a while.

Every living thing deserves a break.

Here are five useful lessons I learned out in my garden.

If I must be rooted, plant my feet in rich soil, let my womanly flesh harden to bark, and let my limbs, robust in sleeves of evergreen, keep reaching for the sun.

-Jane Elle Glasser

1- Flowers Don’t Compete

Don’t ask me what the most beautiful flower was that I ever found in my garden; I wouldn’t have a response. Watching them blossom and spread out before me, I can’t say one has smoother petals or a nicer color.

Flowers are beautiful in their own way. They are content with what they are, and pay no heed to their neighbors’ looks.

Humans could learn this trick, too: we would be happy if we stopped competing with our neighbors for things—beauty, riches, fame…

2- Flowers Rest

We humans always feel like we ought to be busy. If we aren’t working on chores or doing extra hours at work, a little voice tells us that we aren’t contributing as citizens.

In short, we feel useless.

Flowers have no such fear. They bloom when their time comes, and then peacefully bow their heads when it’s time to rest again. Perhaps next year they’ll return; perhaps not. They aren’t doing this for us.

Flowers don’t grow all year for our delight. They grow when spring comes around because that’s what they were meant to do. When it’s time to die, they don’t protest.

Were we humans not also meant to rest?

For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.

Philippians 1:21, NASB

3- Flowers Let Go

Some flowers continue to grow back on their own, year after year. This is called reseeding. They drop seeds when their time is through one year. When spring returns a few months later, you’ll find that they have spread out and taken life on their own.

Here’s a list of flowers that reseed, if you want to plant some in your garden, too!

In other words, you could leave certain flowers on their own and you’d still have a garden growing come spring!

However, this would not be possible if they hadn’t first died and dried out. Could we not use this tactic, ourselves? What beauty would result if we allowed a struggle to change us?

4- Flowers are Patient

Can you imagine the patience it must take to be planted underground?

A human might be restless to see herself fully grown. We are anxious during our diets to achieve our weight goal. This even applies to online shopping; once we order something in the mail, we can’t wait to receive it.

Flowers have to wait for everything, and they do so without complaint. After they’ve poked up through the dirt, they emerge as tiny seedlings; these seedlings take weeks to grow into something that’ll produce flowers.

Flowers know how to wait. Why don’t we?

5- Flowers Welcome Rain

No one knows the benefit of a good rainstorm more than a flower. While the rest of us vanish into our houses, the seedlings outside the window are cheering on the coming thunderstorm.

They know that a bit of rain and bad weather will help them grow lovely and strong.

How do we deal with rain in our everyday lives? Much of the time, we don’t. We pretend certain problems will go away on their own, instead of dealing with them head-on. We miss the opportunity such struggles offer to help us grow.

Let us strive to be like the flower, never passing up an opportunity to grow and thrive. We’ll stand taller and our stems will be stronger, able to surpass any storm that might assault us later.

Conclusion

You might find more wisdom out in your garden than you would in the pages of a book. Being a writer, I would not say this if I didn’t feel it to be true. Their silent lessons prepare us for the long winters of life.

I can’t wait to look back on my history as a gardener and ponder on the things I learned while watering a seedling.

Share this with someone who enjoys gardening!

A PROVISION FOR LOVE by Heather Chapman


It has been a long while since I read a book that warmed my heart as much as this one did. A Provision for Love by Heather Chapman was too short, in my opinion. This might be a good thing; in many cases, the short books are more potent, finding their places in your heart more easily.

Ivy’s grandmother has written for her a list of qualities to seek in a potential husband; this list includes traits that mean a man isn’t worth Ivy’s time. The list is written in a poetic form, and in some places borders on absurdity, but it was fun watching as Ivy sized up her possible suitors according to the advice that her grandmother had given—and watching Grandmother have fun as she watched the process unfold.

I was satisfied with the ending; I don’t think Ivy’s choice could have been more perfect. The list worked; it led her to a worthy gentleman—or rather, opened her eyes to the gentleman who had been standing in front of her the entire time. I know I will be reading this delightful little book again.

Peace in May


It is May, and with May comes hope in new life.

I feared that I would not have a flower garden this year. When we finally returned from Peru, it was verging on too late to plant some of the flowers that I had considered my favorites last year. In the end, I had no reason to fear.

Along with pregrown flowers bought from the store, I have been able to plant cosmos–my favorites–from seed, and I will delight in watching them bloom this year. I found out that some Bachelor Buttons had planted themselves in unlikely places, meaning that it’ll be a bit awkward to mow the lawn.

In a time of high anxiety, nature has not let us down. Birds have come to rest on branches, their song serenading Creation as, sobbing quietly, it heals. I always found that stepping outside was the most effective form of therapy for me.

The garden waited for me patiently; now, I plant daisies and tend to it, loving nature just like it is loving me.

Creativity in Quarantine


I would love to say that I am #StayingAtHome, but I found this situation more complicated—and emotionally loaded.

When we first arrived in Peru, we were staying in a hotel. This was where we were when, halfway into our trip, a quarantine and curfew were set; all of the stores closed. Any place that we might have gone to have fun has been shut down for weeks.

After that, we left the hotel to spend the remainder of our trip at our grandmother’s house; there is still nowhere to go except for the grocery store.

Boredom can be painful.

I expected that quarantine of such a nature would give me inspiration to finish a book. Instead, I’m writing a few chapters, but they are good ones.

It’s hard to focus on creative writing when the media makes you so hyper aware of the bad things happening in the world. We are all feel a little out of place. We are all celebrating small victories, like finishing a chapter or reading a long book.

As we wait out the last three days, hoping the U.S. Government will get us home, I’m allowing myself to feel the negative feelings. They can lead to clarity. They can serve as inspiration. Ultimately, they can guide us.

I hope you’ve found something to keep you sane during this time. We are all seeing the world in a different way; how have these events changed your viewpoint?

New Book – The Mermaid of Rose Hill – Out Soon!


Here is a photo of me with a case of lazy bed head, holding a proof copy of my new novel, which I plan to release this month.

The Mermaid has been my project for the last two years or more. It began as an urban fantasy, but I decided to challenge myself and write it as a historical fiction. It was a much more complicated but rewarding experience; it will be the first book of what I foresee as a long series with lots of novella spin-offs.

I’ve been sharing teasers on Instagram and Twitter. I am very eager to be an active indie author again.

If you want to know what it’s about, here’s a blurb I wrote a while back; it isn’t perfect, but close enough!

While I haven’t decided on a release date yet, it’ll be before the 20.

Here are a couple of the teasers. I do hope you enjoy this book; it’s my baby!

I might be sending out some ebook copies for review; if you’re interested, let me know!

-Mariella x

Mythology of the Butterfly


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The butterfly is a flying flower, the flower a tethered butterfly.
—Ecouchard le Brun

Every spring we look into the flowerbeds, hoping to see their fluttering wings. They’re the daydream of the child, and the memory of the gardener. They inspire awe and wonder, and we create environments hoping to attract them.

Butterflies have enchanted poets and artists since the beginning of time. They are documented in field guides. We watch from April to September, hoping to catch a glimpse of a Swallowtail or a Monarch.

Many people do not know the rich collection of mythology concerning butterflies. Perhaps you’ve heard it said that they carry messages to heaven; you might count the spots on their wings to predict how many children you’ll have.

There are many more tales where those came from. Butterfly mythology is fascinating. Knowing what our ancestors said enhances the thrill that we feel, watching them vanish into the sky.

Here are three pieces of folklore involving these lovely insects:

  • Native American lore is rich. One of their stories is that the serpent god, Quetzalcoatl, was born of a chrysalis. Native Americans are not the only ones to make symbolism of the cocoon; to many, it represents the struggle as we move from one phase to another. We break our cocoons to face fresh challenges with wings and wisdom. The butterfly cocoon is often more beautiful than the creature itself.
  • In many parts of the world, pagan tradition has a special place for this elegant insect. In Ireland, it’s considered bad luck to kill a white butterfly—they’re believed to symbolize the human soul after death. Most of us don’t think much of the white butterfly, our eyes seeking out color instead. In Ireland, this cannot be; we must pay attention, lest we pass a spirit and not pay it due homage.
  • In other places, we should look for the red butterfly. According to Icy Sedgwick, red butterflies often mean important news is on its way. However, the Scots believed red butterflies were witches, an example of how two cultures can see a thing differently. It doesn’t end there: if a sailor saw a yellow butterfly, he might perish on his next journey.

Special mention: if you want a fascinating read, visit Dealan-De’s account of The Wooing of Etain.

When spring comes back around this year, keep an eye out the window for a red butterfly; it might be a witch. And if you are a sailor, be kind to the yellow butterfly, lest you get into a boating accident! Remember that, out in the garden, anything is possible.

Art is Magic


Art is something that comes alive and seeks to change us forever.

Wonder at how, so many years later, the Mona Lisa still has lines after lines of people impatient to see her smile. Think of how certain quotes from certain novels echo down through generations, while most of our own whispers vanish into oblivion.

Renoir, Young Girls at the Piano, close-up

Art is the only true form of magic and only art is immortal. It can thaw the frozen heart when nothing else could. It brings us centuries-old pain, and also relief from that pain.

Don’t cast a spell; a poem will do.

I’ve always held this view. I used to think my preference for classic works was a result of my personal desire to be the next Dickens—but art does not work that way. We all hold it differently.

There is no way I can be the next Jane Austen.

Now I think my fascination is a result of nostalgia, one we all feel for times past. We all have heroes long-gone that we would love one hour with. There always comes a moment when the present, fast-paced world is not enough.

So we take up art, this shapeless and fiery thing, to recreate what no longer is but still is close to our hearts. We write back into history. We conjure our heroes, create unicorns, slay dragons.

Art is magic, and art is alive.

Now I look at myself. My heart is in a place long-gone when grand balls were popular, women wore dresses of flowing silk, and carriages rattled. This is what I will recreate with the magic handed to me; it is a lifelong goal.

It requires much, though. To uncover gems of story, I have to do research. To make my characters feel real, I need to know where they would go, what they would eat, how they would dance. As I grow older researching, my heart will be more caught in that time than this one.

Come to my blog and learn with me. Our Elizabeth Bennetts might seem far away, but using the magic of art, we come closer with every step forward that we take.

Castles Brick by Brick


I am excited to be near the final edits for a project close to my heart.

The Mermaid of Rose Hill has been through several amazing beta readers; from each of these people I’ve received fantastic bits of advice, enough to polish it off. Enough, perhaps, to release it soon.

As you might expect, it hasn’t been easy. Even though I’ve always been an author of fantasy, I don’t think I’ve ventured this deeply into the genre. All of a sudden, I had to come up with folklore; it was terrifying.

Though Mermaid was meant to be a low-key historical fiction with fantasy elements that happened to be in it, the text lacked backstory.

I knew there were gaps that should be filled, and doing so would be fun, but fiction is scarier than reality. It needs to make sense. It might seem simple, from a distance, to add the “finishing touches” to a fantasy world; for some reason, though, when I thought of doing it, I froze up.

I think that the heavy book called Grimm’s Fairy Tales caused me to hesitate. I know that comparing myself to the Brothers Grimm is foolish, but I did not believe I could make up my own folklore. I looked at Tolkien’s imaginary world, as well, and knew I could never write something elaborate as that.

Still, something had to be done. I sat and started writing backstory in snatches and sentences. I quoted excerpts from news articles I might never finish about sightings that could be terrifying.

You build a castle brick by brick; I am building my mythology scrap by scrap.

This month, I am beginning what I hope is the final edit for The Mermaid of Rose Hill (though, if it needs more time, I won’t rush it). I think I have enough material to move on to book two.

I should have done this a long time ago, but I was afraid. Authors, when you’re intimidated, remember: castles are built brick by brick.

Imagine Success


2020 is young, and sweet progress is being made. I’ve written 10,000 words towards my first novella of the year. I am hoping for four of them.

As I wade through the tale of Isolde and Gareth, I can’t help reflecting on how my writing process has changed since I began. It’s more mature; for instance, though I do not outline much, I need a checklist of events. I sort through scenes in my head, and try to pick those that are absolutely necessary.

With a goal of 30-33,000 words max for The Price of a Unicorn, it is important to choose the most necessary scenes.

My writing prompt app said today, Imagine success. That sent a wave of excitement through me. Though success comes in many forms (for instance, writing 10k is success) the prompt made me think of what I want from my stories.

I have a mermaid series in the works, and a fantasy trilogy loaded with magic; now, I have my side project of novellas. These novellas play out in my head like television shows, more than my books did. I might rewrite them in screenplay form.

When the new year began, I made plans for the next ten years. I want to read all the classic novels, including obscure ones you won’t find in bookstores. I want to be decent at the piano.

Most importantly, by the time 2030 comes around, I want to have plenty of stories published. I have all that I need to succeed as a storyteller; until this year, I only lacked motivation.

You ask me to imagine success; I see a shelf full of books with my name on them. I see journals of poetry. I see memoirs of my travels, articles, and anthologies.

The next ten years, God willing, shall be full of ambition and learning. It’s possible, when I quit procrastinating. It’s possible, when I believe in myself. I have so many stories to tell!

When you imagine success, what do you see?

What Excuses are you Making?


On my iPhone, I have an app that generates writing prompts. Yesterday’s prompt was “What excuses are you making?” When those words popped up, at once I pictured dozens of things I’d convinced myself were more important than my writing.

The foremost was, “Reading isn’t wasting time! Writers read.” Reading is important, but when it makes you so busy that the story is never written, you wind up wasting opportunities.

All sorts of excuses followed. I’m helping friends; I’m world building; I’m waiting for the right month in the summer. These were my excuses but, minutes away from beginning a new year, I could no longer allow excuses to slow me down.

If I wrote all the ideas in my heart, I would have a shelf of work. No doubt, the reading I’ve been doing would have helped with it—but, even though writers read, what they must do is write.

Here are my plans for this year:

My beta readers have given me fantastic feedback on The Mermaid of Rose Hill, so I will begin my (hopefully) final edit later this month. Before I go back to editing, though, I want to have a bit of fun.

I’m writing a series of fantasy novellas loosely based on the TV show Once Upon a Time, though the storylines aren’t the same. Knowing my writing speed, I can finish a novella in two weeks or less; today, I have been outlining it, crafting the characters, and trying to make everything tidy as possible.

I have another novel I wrote a couple of years ago that I’m also considering self publishing. Whatever happens with Mermaid, I will always favor the indie path, and a lot of people enjoyed the novel in question. I’d love to share it with you.

What excuses are you making? Every moment is a chance for you to improve as a writer, in ways that might surprise you. I’m planning my career for the next ten years, outlining novellas and giving ideas the attention they deserve. I’m applying dedication to the craft that I should have done earlier.

By the time this decade ends, I might be a successful author; I might not. At least I’ll have done what I loved, the craft that creates new worlds.

My plan for the new roaring twenties is to reach my full potential and stop making excuses.

Happy New Year! I hope you have a blessed one!

Nine Ladies Dancing: Clinging to Youth


It’s frightening to grow up. Taking on responsibilities, leaving old habits behind, speaking of childhood in the past tense—it’s no wonder so many people take their time, whether or not they realize it. The world is a scary place, after all.

I believe this message was the strongest theme for Nine Ladies Dancing, the fourth novella in the Belles of Christmas collection, which I have been enjoying thoroughly.

Add to my above list the future inheritance of a grand estate and title. It’s no wonder the male protagonist, Matthew, has not yet grown up, seeking comfort in the things that make him feel free…such as horses. His parents have noticed, though, that he isn’t getting any younger, and neither are they.

With this in mind, his mother strikes a deal with him: he must get to know nine ladies before Twelfthnight. If he does not fall in love with any of them, she will finally stop telling him what to do with his life. To make the deal sweeter, his father promises him a new horse if he doesn’t fall for any of them.

As a reader, I laughed quite a bit at the horse detail. He prefers a horse to true love! But, back to the review.

It sounds easy to not fall in love, so Matthew accepts the deal with his mother. The catch, which he does not realize until several embarrassing incidents later, is that he was already in love…but with the last person he could have imagined. Meg does love him, though, and puts up an admirable fight.

Too bad he’s so obsessed with the new horse that, eventually, Meg gives up. When Meg gives up fighting for him—well, something doesn’t feel quite right with his head…or is it his heart?…he cannot decide. Suddenly, though, he’s far more interested in her and what she’s doing—and the gentlemen she’s talking to.

Eventually, the horse is no longer so enticing.

My heart ached many times over the course of this book for Meg and for silly Matthew. It’s a well known truth that you do not know what you have until you lose it; however, this book has a happy ending, which soothed that ache. Matthew finally does grow up.

I waited eagerly for this book to release, and finished it in a day. All of the novellas in this collection have me enchanted, and I’ll be sad when there are no more. Also, I think the cover for Nine Ladies Dancing is the most beautiful of the five. However, they all make me dream.

I’m already reading the final novella, A Duke for Lady Eve. Thankfully, there are more sweet Regency novels from these authors, and I won’t have to say good-bye to the magic that is in this collection. I am so glad to have found it; every book was worth the read!

Strength in Song: The Chilbury Ladies’ Choir


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Two words describe The Chilbury Ladies’ Choir–heartbreaking and hopeful.

I liked the way it was written, a first person novel following the points of view of several members of an exclusively female choir. While the notion might not seem unusual now, it was previously unheard of in the book, and only formed because all of the men in the choir had gone off to war.

This choir unites the young and old, the foreign and the native, in a delightful example of how diversity can create the best music. This is, after all, what happened during WWII: people who wouldn’t have met otherwise were side-by-side in the struggle to survive, mentally and spiritually.

The ladies in this choir bond through their music. It can be seen in their letters and journal entries that, in the most desperate times, they are stronger when they come together. I think it is true that all of us are stronger when doing something we love with people we love.

Since these ladies are in different phases of life, we see the world through different lenses. We have the innocent perspective of fourteen-year-old Kitty, as well as her sister, Venetia, who is in the bud of womanhood, discovering new things. There is Silvie, a Jewish girl who is staying with them because her country is under attack. I thought it fascinating that, though Silvie’s journal entries were few and short, she was more alert.

This book shows how no woman sees the world in the same way, but friendship wins even in the midst of war. If war can bring about such growth in people so different, imagine what we could do if we would set aside our differences in times of peace!

The war inspired many stories, but The Chilbury Ladies’ Choir is one I will remember because of the different colors each woman contributed; I will let it remind me that there is only so much we can do alone.

I will cherish this book, and hope that I can be strong as them, when adversity comes.

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