After many years of dry, academic publications, Claire Sanders yearned to stretch her creative muscles. Since she’d long enjoyed the guilty pleasure of reading romance novels, Claire decided to try her hand at writing one.

After two disastrous attempts which ended up in the recycling bin, Claire’s third novel, Fresh Start, was published in 2008 by The Wild Rose Press. She has since written two novellas for Barbour Books. A Quaker Christmas was published in September, 2011 and The Quakers of New Garden is on sale now.

Congratulations on the release of your novella “New Garden’s Inspiration” in the collection The Quakers of New Garden. Please tell us a bit about this novella and how it came to be.

I got the idea for “New Garden’s Inspiration” while researching Quakers for my novella “Equally Yoked” that appeared in A Quaker Christmas. I was struck by the Quakers’ Testimony of Peace. Quakers are pacifists and believe that all war is wrong. However, they struggled against slavery and were active in the Underground Railroad. This crisis of conscience must have tested many Quakers during the Civil War, especially after Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation.

My research showed that many Quakers joined the Union Army despite their adherence to pacifism. Each group of Quakers (called Meetings) had to decide what to do about the Friends who broke the Testimony of Peace. After the war, Quakers who had served in the military petitioned their Meetings for re-admittance to the Society of Friends. Individuals were readmitted or rejected on a case-by-case basis. After the draft was instituted in 1863, many Quakers petitioned for roles as conscientious objectors. These men usually served as medical aides or hospital orderlies.

Is this your first/only release? If not, what has released recently or about to be released that our readers would like to know about?

My first release was a non-inspirational romance titled A Fresh Start. It is available from The Wild Rose Press. My first publication in the Christian fiction genre was “A Quaker Christmas” published by Barbour Books.

What special something do you try to bring to every story you write?

My goal is to have the characters’ situation strike the readers on an emotional level. In “New Garden’s Inspiration,” the main character is a woman who’s been rejected on many levels. Unfortunately, many of us know what that feels like. But Leah doesn’t give up. She makes the best of the bad situation she finds herself in and she’s accepted by her new family.

What does a typical writing day look like for you?

Someday I’d like to be a full-time writer, but for the moment I work five days a week and write in the evenings and on weekends. I once read a piece of advice from the poet, Mary Oliver. She suggested setting aside one hour each day to sit at the computer and simply write.

At first it seemed like flawed advice. How could one hour be enough? But something happens inside the creative part of my brain. It’s almost as though my creative self knows that hour is coming and prepares for it.

After dinner is cooked, the kitchen cleaned, and all the homework is done, I usually spend an hour catching up on business. This usually entails e-mails, blog posts, and research which I can do while watching a television program with my family. Then comes my hour to write. I go to a quiet place (usually my bedroom) and tackle my current work-in-progress. Sometimes I’m flying through the first draft, other times I’m slogging through revisions. But focusing my efforts into that one hour really works for me.

What’s one small bit of you that’s in your novella’s main character?

Although I never do this on purpose, one theme I see showing up again and again in my stories is a girl who doesn’t know her true worth. Leah, for example, has been disrespected for most of her life and has come to believe what other people have said about her. Yet she touches the hearts of her new family by simply being her true self. When her stepdaughter rebels, Leah shows understanding and patience. When her husband is ill and despondent, Leah bolsters him by sharing her impressions of his family.

It’s not comfortable to admit it, but I too have had to fight to discover my true worth. How could it be true that I don’t have to be heartstoppingly beautiful in order to be valued? I also don’t have to be the smartest kid in the class nor the best mother on the block. The discovery that being who I am can be a blessing to my family and friends was one of the most powerful breakthroughs of my life.

What dish are you most likely to take to a potluck?

I almost always bring one of my mother’s recipes. She called it baked corn and it’s the easiest thing to make but oh so delicious! I simply mix one can of creamed corn, one egg, one tablespoon of butter, and one tablespoon of sugar, then bake at 350 degrees until it’s firm. I always double or triple the recipe for a large crowd.

If you could go on an all-expenses-paid month-long vacation anywhere in the world, where would you go? What would you do there?

This is a very easy question to answer! I’d go to the Holy Land. I don’t need to see the places where Jesus walked in order to believe in Him, but I’m so curious about the land and the culture of the people there. Three major religions think of Jerusalem as a holy city, and I’d like to find out why.

Where or how do you like to connect with your readers?

You can find me on Facebook and my website. I love to hear from readers.

Thanks so much for letting us get to know you a little!

Copyright by Claire Sanders

Here’s an excerpt from the third novella in The Quakers of New Garden.

Wayne County, Indiana
August, 1861

Leah Wall sat in the minister’s study and gazed at the wildflowers in her hands. Young John had gathered a few yarrow and daisies, but Queen Anne’s lace dominated the group. How had her cousin known that particular flower held a special place in Leah’s heart?

“That flower is like thee,” her mother had said. “Look how it stands straight on its slender body, its face pointing to the sun, praising God for giving it so much strength and purpose.”

Leah ran one finger over the fragile bloom, wishing her mother had lived long enough to see her wedding day. Many farmers considered Queen Anne’s lace a weed, and since coming to live with her aunt and uncle, Leah had felt more like a weed than a flower.

Aunt Cynthia hurried into the small room. “Is thee ready? The groom has arrived and is talking to the minister and your Uncle Abram. It won’t be long now.”

“I’m ready,” Leah answered, knowing her response was less than truthful. She was happy to be getting married, truly she was, but how she wished she could’ve met her future husband before today.

Uncle Abram tapped on the doorframe. “Caleb would like to speak with you before we begin, Leah. Is thee willing?”

Leah swallowed the lump in her throat. What would Caleb think of her? Aunt Cynthia had helped her make a new dress of pale green cotton, but it was fashioned in the plain style of the Quakers. Leah touched the brim of her white linen prayer cap. Would he think it old-fashioned of her to cover her head? So many women had given up the practice.

Uncle Abram’s bushy beard twitched with his impatience. “Well, Leah? Shall I send him in?”

Leah took a deep breath and let it out. “Of course,” she answered, wincing at the tremble in her voice.

Aunt Cynthia placed a reassuring hand on Leah’s shoulder.

Uncle Abram’s eyebrows drew together. “Alone, Cynthia,” he clarified. “I’m sure Leah will be fine with the man she intends to marry.”

“Oh,” Aunt Cynthia said as her cheeks tinged pink. She turned to Leah. “I’ll be right outside if thee should need me.”

Her uncle closed the door, leaving Leah in anxious silence. Surely it was a good thing Caleb wanted to speak to her before the ceremony. He wouldn’t have let things go this far if he planned to call it off. Of course, he’d been gone for the past two weeks, settling his affairs before reporting for duty. Maybe he simply hadn’t had the opportunity to tell her he’d changed his mind.

A soft knock on the door recalled Leah’s wandering attention. “Come in.”

The door swung open and Leah gasped. Before her stood the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. Dressed in the blue uniform of the Union, Caleb was tall and well-built, with a straight nose and full lips. Black brows framed piercing blue eyes. His dark hair curled around his ears and fringed the stiff white collar of his shirt. He removed his hat and stood stiffly in the doorway. “Miss Wall,” he said, then swallowed and began again. “Miss Wall, I’m Caleb Whitaker.”

He waited for Leah to acknowledge him, but she was dumbstruck by the heart-stopping presence of the man.

Caleb cleared his throat and slid the brim of his hat through his fingers. “I’d like to make sure you know what you’re getting yourself into before we seal this bargain.”

Bargain? Didn’t he know what a great favor he was doing her?

“I have two children – a girl twelve and a boy of four. My wife died shortly after giving birth to Stephen so he’s never known a mother. Olivia, that’s my daughter…well, Olivia is dead-set against needing a new mother so you’ll probably have your hands full with her.”

Leah’s gaze transfixed on Caleb’s hands as he continued to rotate the hat. They were so big, a farmer’s hands, accustomed to hard work, and yet they gently caressed the brim.

“My Aunt Rose has been helping me with the children for the last few years, but she’s getting up in age and unable to take the children full time. I have eighty-three acres of good farmland. There are fruit trees – pear, cherry and apple, of course – as well as butternut. I am to report to Evansville soon but I don’t expect to be gone long. I can’t imagine the South lasting more than a few months, so I’ll be back soon.”

Caleb’s gaze drifted to the small window beside the door. “In return for you doing me this honor, I promise to be responsible for your well-being for the rest of your life.”

Leah tore her gaze away from Caleb’s hands and looked at his profile. In her twenty-four years she’d learned there were many kinds of men – those who couldn’t be trusted, those who treated livestock better than their own wives, and those who broke their word as easily as spring ice. What kind of man was Caleb Whitaker?

“He’s a good man,” Uncle Abram had assured her. “It’s true he’s not a Friend, but he’s worked with us in helping many runaway slaves on their way to freedom. Besides, Leah, thee isn’t likely to get another offer.”

Caleb looked at her, waiting for her response. Did he really think she’d decline his proposal? He was offering her a chance to get away from Uncle Abram’s constant disapproval. She’d prepared for life as a spinster, had looked into the future and seen nothing but a barren womb. Like Jephthah’s daughter, she’d bewailed her virginity and resigned to life as an unwanted poor relation. But everything had changed in a scant two weeks.

She was to be married.

She was to be a mother and a wife.

Someone did want her.

Excerpt used by permission of Barbour Publishing. Check out this page for places to buy The Quakers of New Garden!