In Her Own Time
The Bean Books, #2
by Christine Potter
Crystal: Today I have the pleasure of hosting Christine Potter. Welcome Christine! I'm so excited to have you here today.
Christine: Sure! I’m writing these words in a hotel room on my way home from Prince Edward Island, where I go most summers to say thanks to Lucy Maud Montgomery for writing Anne of Green Gables. I always spend a little time at her grave, which is covered with giant red geraniums at this time of year. She and Madeleine L’Engle, who wrote A Wrinkle in Time, are my big heroes. L’Engle is why I write time travel. (Well, she and Jack Finney). And Lucy Maud Montgomery’s book are why I set my books back in the time when I was a teenager. The present just isn’t cozy enough for me. Otherwise I’m a pretty standard issue YA author—the world’s oldest young adult. Married to a patient man who plays the pipe organ for a living. Oh, and we live in a haunted house. So maybe that’s a bit odd.
Crystal: What are you currently working on?
Christine: I’m working on the third book in the Bean (Time Runs Away With Her) series. Bean Donohue is a 16-year-old aspiring folk-rock musician who lives in the year 1970. And she is a time traveler, except she can only go backwards, into the past, and she can’t control when that happens. In the first book, Bean gets together with her boyfriend, Zak, and gets to the bottom of a local ghost story by visiting the ghost in the ghost’s lifetime. She’s sort of drawn back into it—it’s nothing she sets out to do, at least at first. The second book, which was just released, is called In Her Own Time, and it has a 1970 FM radio station, another really unlikely time traveler who appears unexpectedly…and the American Revolution. Also: vinyl LP’s, the escalating Vietnam war, the draft, and Bean’s prickly mom, Julia. And fireworks. And of course, The Grateful Dead. Book Three skips ahead to 1972, with Bean in college.
Christine: I’m working on the third book in the Bean (Time Runs Away With Her) series. Bean Donohue is a 16-year-old aspiring folk-rock musician who lives in the year 1970. And she is a time traveler, except she can only go backwards, into the past, and she can’t control when that happens. In the first book, Bean gets together with her boyfriend, Zak, and gets to the bottom of a local ghost story by visiting the ghost in the ghost’s lifetime. She’s sort of drawn back into it—it’s nothing she sets out to do, at least at first. The second book, which was just released, is called In Her Own Time, and it has a 1970 FM radio station, another really unlikely time traveler who appears unexpectedly…and the American Revolution. Also: vinyl LP’s, the escalating Vietnam war, the draft, and Bean’s prickly mom, Julia. And fireworks. And of course, The Grateful Dead. Book Three skips ahead to 1972, with Bean in college.
Crystal: Where did you come up with the idea for for either your current release or the WIP you are working on now?
Christine: Like I said before, my current book and the WIP are kind of mash-ups of wanting to write something set in my own past and wanting to write time travel. The books are set in the Hudson River Valley, which is full of ghost stories, old houses, and villages with cool little shops and walkable downtowns—both in 1970 and now. I’m a pants-er, not a planner, as writers say. Pants-ers fly their narratives by the seat of their pants. And I love living in 1970 again.
Crystal: Do you have a favorite snack that like to munch on while writing? If so would you mind sharing what it is with us?
Christine: I hydrate; I try not to snack. I alternate between Diet Coke and iced coffee with lots of milk in it. That’s good because if you hydrate…well you WILL have to get up every few hours to UN-hydrate, if you know what I mean. And that’s easier on the back. I know lots of writers with aching backs for sitting too long.
Christine: I hydrate; I try not to snack. I alternate between Diet Coke and iced coffee with lots of milk in it. That’s good because if you hydrate…well you WILL have to get up every few hours to UN-hydrate, if you know what I mean. And that’s easier on the back. I know lots of writers with aching backs for sitting too long.
Crystal: Do you have a favorite scene you would like to share with us?
Christine: I like this piece, from when the story is just getting rolling. Bean is having breakfast at her house with her impossible mom gone on a business trip. She’s enjoying her boyfriend Zak, and her gal pal Sam when she unexpectedly slips back in time and watches her own parents bringing her baby self home from the hospital sixteen years before:
…And in the next moment, Bean found herself alone, just outside the house. The air was sharp. Tall trees that had just been in full summer leaf were suddenly bare, and smaller than they’d been seconds before. Bean tried to peer back in through the kitchen window, but the lights were off, and she couldn't see anything. She stood in her side yard, sometime in the past. It was happening again…
And It was enough of a shock that she didn’t even know how she felt. She’d been glowing from the night before with Zak, happy to have had Sam pound on her door with music and laughter. Bean stuck her hands in the pockets of her thin blue cotton robe, and looked up. The sky looked like early afternoon: pale sunlight behind a thin, high layer of clouds. In front of her house, underneath the living room windows stood three overgrown barberry bushes. Bean had never seen them before. The ground was hard and cold, and she was barefoot.
Alrighty, then. Damn it. Lately, Bean had been perfectly fine with life in 1970. What year is this supposed to be? She had no idea.
Zak said love is always why this happens, she thought. But then she felt the happiness beginning to leak out of her. If Zak were right, why had she slipped backwards just now? She had a whole June weekend to spend with him, feeling nothing but love…and now, this.
It made no sense. All she could do was watch, deal, and try to keep warm.
It really was pretty chilly. She tried jogging in place to warm up, which helped a bit. Her toes were soon numb, though. After a few minutes, a black car with big, round bumpers pulled into the driveway and clattered to a halt. There was the rasp of an emergency brake being set. And Bean’s father — very young, and too thin for his thick, grey winter coat — got out of the driver’s side. Bean put a hand over her mouth, and watched as he ran urgently around to the passenger’s door. He yanked it open.
“Can you make it?” Bean’s dad called into the car.
“Of course I can make it,” said her mother’s voice. A high-heeled shoe and a nylon stocking-covered leg emerged. Then came the rest of Bean’s mom, wearing a brown tweed overcoat and a floppy green beret. She walked a bit unsteadily, clutching a bundle of white blankets wrapped around a baby, which began to wail.
“Sh-sh. Sh-sh-sh,” said Julia as she wobbled up the walk. She stopped when she got to the front door.
“You wouldn’t happen to have remembered the house keys, would you, Tom?” she called. Tom patted down three pockets in his coat before something jingled. He rushed a key into the lock. Then he looked back at the car. Both its front doors now stood wide open, and he sprinted back down the walk toward them. Bean sucked in her breath hard, taking it all in. Was that her days-old self, crying, inside the house? Sixteen-year-old Bean felt a little weepy, too. It’s 1953, then, she thought. Just after my actual birthday. Wow…
The wind blew and she shivered.
And then there was a hand on her arm.
Bean gasped, turned her head and found herself face to face with a guy who looked about her age. Or was he a little older? She couldn’t tell. He wore a blue and yellow Kent State football jersey. His wavy, black hair was pulled back into a ponytail that ended just below his neck.
That’s crazy, Bean thought. People never talked to Bean when she time traveled. Or touched her. People weren’t even able to see her when she time traveled. And the guy standing beside her really didn’t look like he came from almost seventeen years ago — not with all that hair.
Am I still in 1953? she thought. Or back in 1970?
Crystal: When you are not busy writing wonderful stories to keep us lucky readers entertained, what do you like to do? Do you have a hobby?
Christine: I DJ at an internet radio station my friends and I run, Area24radio.com. And I sing and play guitar and dulcimer. Also, I’m obsessed with cooking and making drinks.
Crystal: Do you have a favorite background noise you like to having going while you write (TV, Music, kids playing)?
Christine: I like it really quiet: snow falling, the creek outside my house gurgling, the cats walking around upstairs knocking stuff over…
7. Crystal: Thank you for visiting today. It has been a pleasure to visit with you. Is there anything else you would like to share with us?
Christine: You’re welcome! I’d like to cheerlead even a little more for In Her Own Time. It’s funny, it’s scary in places, and I’m super-proud of it :)!
BLURB:
Summer 1970: Bean Donohue’s sixteen, she’s finally got a good band together, and she’s crazy in love with her artist boyfriend Zak.
She’s also about to get the coolest summer job ever, and her
impossible mom’s conveniently out of town.
impossible mom’s conveniently out of town.
So why does she keep ending up in 1953…or 1779?
And who's that guy with the black ponytail and the Kent State t-shirt?
He knows way too much about her. Should Zak be worried—or should Bean?
Romance/Time Travel/Suspense
63K,
Evernight Teen Publishing
14+ due to sexuality and adult situations
Excerpt:
Bean found herself alone, just outside the
house. The air was sharp. Tall trees that had just been in full summer leaf
were suddenly bare, and smaller than they’d been seconds before. Bean tried to peer
back in through the kitchen window, but the lights were off, and she couldn't
see anything. She stood in her side yard, sometime in the past. It was
happening again…
house. The air was sharp. Tall trees that had just been in full summer leaf
were suddenly bare, and smaller than they’d been seconds before. Bean tried to peer
back in through the kitchen window, but the lights were off, and she couldn't
see anything. She stood in her side yard, sometime in the past. It was
happening again…
And It was enough of a shock
that she didn’t even know how she felt. She’d been glowing from the night
before with Zak, happy to have had Sam pound on her door with music and
laughter. Bean stuck her hands in the pockets of her thin blue cotton robe, and
looked up. The sky looked like early afternoon: pale sunlight behind a thin,
high layer of clouds. In front of her house, underneath the living room windows
stood three overgrown barberry bushes. Bean had never seen them before. The
ground was hard and cold, and she was barefoot.
that she didn’t even know how she felt. She’d been glowing from the night
before with Zak, happy to have had Sam pound on her door with music and
laughter. Bean stuck her hands in the pockets of her thin blue cotton robe, and
looked up. The sky looked like early afternoon: pale sunlight behind a thin,
high layer of clouds. In front of her house, underneath the living room windows
stood three overgrown barberry bushes. Bean had never seen them before. The
ground was hard and cold, and she was barefoot.
Alrighty, then. Damn
it. Lately, Bean had been perfectly fine with life in 1970. What
year is this supposed to be? She had no idea.
it. Lately, Bean had been perfectly fine with life in 1970. What
year is this supposed to be? She had no idea.
Zak said love is always why this happens, she thought.
But then she felt the happiness beginning to leak out of her. If Zak were
right, why had she slipped backwards just now? She had a whole June weekend to
spend with him, feeling nothing but love…and now, this.
But then she felt the happiness beginning to leak out of her. If Zak were
right, why had she slipped backwards just now? She had a whole June weekend to
spend with him, feeling nothing but love…and now, this.
It made no sense. All she could do was watch, deal, and try to keep warm.
It really was pretty chilly. She tried jogging
in place to warm up, which helped a bit. Her toes were soon numb, though.
After a few minutes, a black car with big, round bumpers pulled into the
driveway and clattered to a halt. There was the rasp of an emergency brake
being set. And Bean’s father—very
young, and too thin for his thick, grey winter coat—got out of the driver’s side. Bean put a hand
over her mouth, and watched as he ran urgently around to the passenger’s door. He yanked it
open.
in place to warm up, which helped a bit. Her toes were soon numb, though.
After a few minutes, a black car with big, round bumpers pulled into the
driveway and clattered to a halt. There was the rasp of an emergency brake
being set. And Bean’s father—very
young, and too thin for his thick, grey winter coat—got out of the driver’s side. Bean put a hand
over her mouth, and watched as he ran urgently around to the passenger’s door. He yanked it
open.
“Can you make it?” Bean’s dad called into the
car.
car.
“Of course I can
make it,” said her mother’s voice. A high-heeled
shoe and a nylon stocking-covered leg emerged. Then came the rest of Bean’s
mom, wearing a brown tweed overcoat and a floppy green beret. She walked a bit
unsteadily, clutching a bundle of white blankets wrapped around a baby, which
began to wail.
make it,” said her mother’s voice. A high-heeled
shoe and a nylon stocking-covered leg emerged. Then came the rest of Bean’s
mom, wearing a brown tweed overcoat and a floppy green beret. She walked a bit
unsteadily, clutching a bundle of white blankets wrapped around a baby, which
began to wail.
“Sh-sh. Sh-sh-sh,” said Julia as she wobbled up
the walk. She stopped when she got to the front door.
the walk. She stopped when she got to the front door.
“You wouldn’t happen to have remembered the
house keys, would you, Tom?” she called. Tom patted down three pockets in his
coat before something jingled. He rushed a key into the lock. Then he looked
back at the car. Both its front doors now stood wide open, and he sprinted back down the
walk toward them. Bean sucked in her breath hard, taking it all in. Was that
her days-old self,crying, inside the house? Sixteen-year-old Bean felt a little
weepy, too. It’s 1953, then, she thought. Just after my actual
birthday. Wow…
house keys, would you, Tom?” she called. Tom patted down three pockets in his
coat before something jingled. He rushed a key into the lock. Then he looked
back at the car. Both its front doors now stood wide open, and he sprinted back down the
walk toward them. Bean sucked in her breath hard, taking it all in. Was that
her days-old self,crying, inside the house? Sixteen-year-old Bean felt a little
weepy, too. It’s 1953, then, she thought. Just after my actual
birthday. Wow…
The wind blew and she shivered.
And then there was a hand on her
arm.
arm.
Book 1 in The Bean Books series is now available:
Time Runs Away With Her
About the Author:
Christine Potter lives in a small town not far from the setting of Time Runs Away With Her, near the mighty Hudson River, in a very old (1740) house with two ghosts. According to a local ghost investigator, they are harmless, “just very old spirits who don’t want to leave.” She doesn’t want them to.
Christine’s house contains two pipe organs (her husband is a choir director/organist), two spoiled tom cats, and too many
books. She’s also a poet, and the author of two collections of verse, Zero Degrees at First Light, and Sheltering in
Place. Christine taught English and Creative Writing for years in the Clarkstown Schools. She DJ’s free form rock and roll weekly on Area24radio.com, and plays guitar, dulcimer, and tower chimes.
books. She’s also a poet, and the author of two collections of verse, Zero Degrees at First Light, and Sheltering in
Place. Christine taught English and Creative Writing for years in the Clarkstown Schools. She DJ’s free form rock and roll weekly on Area24radio.com, and plays guitar, dulcimer, and tower chimes.
All purpose me on FB: https://www.facebook.com/christine.potter.543
Series FB page: https://www.facebook.com/beanstravels/
My blog: http://chrispygal.weebly.com
Twitter: @chrispygal
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/chrispygal/
* * *
Giveaway: Ask Christine a question or answer one of these two questions below.
1. Suppose you were my main character, Bean. What time period would you like to be swept back into--and why?
2. These books believe in ghosts. Do you? Ever seen one?
a Rafflecopter giveaway
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