Ask the Author: Denice Perkins
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Denice Perkins
At the American Christian Fiction Writers conference last September, I had lunch with a couple of ladies, a mother and daughter. Of course, we got to talking about what we write.
Unbeknownst to me, the mom went to the conference bookstore and bought my first two books. The following day, she stopped me in the main hallway.
“I ought to be mad at you,” was the first thing she said.
I was surprised and taken off guard. “Why?”
“Because it’s your fault I didn’t sleep last night,” she said.
“I’m sorry. I’m not sure how I kept you up all night.”
She smiled. “I bought your books yesterday. I started reading *When Wounds Heal* after dinner, and the sun was coming up when I finished *When Love Overcomes*. I loved them and couldn’t stop reading.”
I hope my jaw didn’t drop too far. She had read my first two books in one night.
“Thank you,” I said. “You made my day.”
We both had seminars to get to, so we exchanged a hug and went our separate ways. I’m sure I floated through the rest of the day.
Unbeknownst to me, the mom went to the conference bookstore and bought my first two books. The following day, she stopped me in the main hallway.
“I ought to be mad at you,” was the first thing she said.
I was surprised and taken off guard. “Why?”
“Because it’s your fault I didn’t sleep last night,” she said.
“I’m sorry. I’m not sure how I kept you up all night.”
She smiled. “I bought your books yesterday. I started reading *When Wounds Heal* after dinner, and the sun was coming up when I finished *When Love Overcomes*. I loved them and couldn’t stop reading.”
I hope my jaw didn’t drop too far. She had read my first two books in one night.
“Thank you,” I said. “You made my day.”
We both had seminars to get to, so we exchanged a hug and went our separate ways. I’m sure I floated through the rest of the day.
Denice Perkins
As a child, I loved baseball. During baseball season most of my allowance went to purchase newspapers for the sports page. I dreamt of playing or umpiring games. I would go back to the days of A League of Your Own, and I would play baseball. I would make my childhood dream come true.
Denice Perkins
My grandmother was Native American. My ancestry holds many mysteries, most of which I may never know. When my grandfather, a German immigrant, married my grandmother, a Native American. One hundred and fifty years or so ago, there was a derogatory stigma to being a half-breed. My grandparents didn't want that for their children and hid her Native American heritage. I know of her heritage but don't know enough to trace it. That's my mystery.
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