Debbie Russell's Blog

A couple of weeks ago, the northern lights made a spectacular appearance and I was fortunate enough to capture them for the first time. Even without them, the night sky is awe-inspiring and provides perspective in a chaotic world. My property out in the country delights me each and every day.

It was five years ago this week that I sat down at my computer to begin writing Crossing Fifty-One. It’s been a long and sometimes challenging journey, but along the way, I’ve enjoyed so much positive energy from old friends and new, especially readers and fellow authors who’ve supported me and my book. THANK YOU!

I thought I’d share a video of Fuji and me from last week. Fuji is a Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever and is four years old! Nine months post surgery and we’re doing great. Deciding to have a knee replacement can be scary, but I was diligent with my PT and couldn’t be happier!

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When I was a kid, I loved Thursdays. That was the day my mom went grocery shopping and dropped my brother and me off at the library to get our reading supply for the week. Our library had a summer reading program (as libraries do), but I don’t remember any of the details. I also don’t remember if the library imposed a limit on the number of books one could check out. I do remember climbing into the back seat of the car with my haul and diving into whichever book I decided was to be the first in line. I was not prone to carsickness, which was a good thing.

While I was in the throes of my legal career, I did a ton of reading, but didn’t consume a lot of books. Instead, fancying myself an intellectual, I subscribed to the local paper, The New Yorker, and The Smithsonian. I participated in a book club of fellow lawyers, and my shelves are filled with those books, even if my memories of the stories contained within the pages are a bit depleted.

But I digress…

After leaving the lawyer job, I headed to my local library and obtained a library card, while regaling the staff with my plans to write my own book. It was all very exciting, even though my reading time was not evenly allocated with my writing time. In fact, after a full day of writing, along with re-experiencing all the grief from that period in my life, I often didn’t have the energy to open a book.

Fast forward and I’ve joined a new real-life book club and one online book club. I’ve returned to a reading experience I’ve not enjoyed since I was a child! That said, I’ve also come to realize that I’m an impatient reader. Meaning, I tend to skim, especially when I feel like the author is digressing. Spoiler: this practice is not good for overall retention. In fact, as I think about the books I’ve read just this past year, there are quite a few where I can’t tell you the ending. Embarrassing!

I have friends who take copious notes—writing down the names and relationships of all the characters. I can’t do that, and instead, find myself getting frustrated if a book feels too complicated. Lately I’ve been wondering if that’s a direct result of the influence of social media, where everything is delivered in bite-sized nuggets.

Which brings me to another complaint: LENGTH. Why does a novel have to be over 300 pages? I recently listened to John Grisham on a podcast and was amazed at his capacity to churn out book after book that’s in the five to six-hundred page range. I actually bailed out of one of his audiobooks, because I felt like the primary story was wrapped up nicely and there was no need to start a completely new backstory-story (IYKYK).

I recently finished this monstrosity for book club. The first fifty pages were maddening. I’ve learned I don’t tolerate non-linear plots very well. More impatience.

And so the skimming commenced. Admittedly, I had to work to maintain the gist of the multiple story lines, which I believe I did adequately. The reward was the ending, where all the mysteries were solved along with some beautiful emotional resolutions. When I consider Goodreads rankings, I started at two stars and ended with three. I look forward to the discussion next month.

What kind of books do you like? What kind of reader are you?

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In other news, I’ve completely reconfigured the vegetable garden, after contemplating giving it up altogether. It was a physically demanding project, and one I’m quite proud of.

Bring on the hibernating, writing, and more book reading!

Until next month,

~ Debbie

I’ll be at the Wadena City library on Saturday, December 6th at 11:30 for an author talk and book signing. Come see me and bring your friends!

Nonfiction: The Book of Hope: A Survival Guide for Trying Times by Jane Goodall with Douglas Abrams

When I discovered Jane Goodall years ago, I wanted to be her, but without the challenging lifestyle. She did so much good for the world, and provides so much wisdom in this book.

Fiction: The Storyteller by Jodi Picoult

I must confess, I was unprepared for the subject matter contained in this book. I find stories of the Holocaust almost too difficult to bear. (Full disclosure: there was some skimming involved). But what’s so important about this book, is the straightforward and unflinching description of how children can be conditioned to do unspeakable things. This one will stick with me.

Chapter Eight: The State Calls Joe Senser

Q: Please try the best you can to listen specifically to my question…

A: (interrupting) I’m sorry…

Q: …because it will go a lot easier if you can actually answer the question that I ask you.

A: I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.

Q: I’m not upset. So my question to you was, when did you put the Mercedes in the garage?

* * * *

I’ve always considered jury trials to be circuses—with me the ringleader. Or maybe they were plays and I was the director. Either way, I was in charge of putting on a show for an audience of twelve strangers who presumably knew nothing about the case or the law. Early on, I learned the hard way that witnesses would disappear, or even worse, show up and lie. In the best-case scenarios, I’d have ample time and opportunity to prepare each and every one of my witnesses—ironing out the kinks. Because trials were rarely scheduled sooner than six months after the crime occurred, time wasn’t on my side.

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As I write this newsletter, the winds are howling, but it’s already 60 degrees, and headed to a high of 67. This Minnesota fall has been warm and dry, which most people tend to favor, but the trees are stressed and the colors are muted. Sort of like many of us feel in this moment.

But I digress…

I want to share some exciting news with you all!

I’ve been awarded an artist career development grant through the Central Minnesota Arts Board, with funding from the McKnight Foundation! Woo-hoo! I don’t know about you, but I’ve felt so discouraged by the news of federal funds being slashed for public radio and television, as well as the elimination of the creative writing fellowship through the National Endowment for the Arts, and the proposed revamping of our national museums to erase parts of history the administration doesn’t want us to see.

That’s why—especially now—I’m deeply grateful to live in a state (and in a region within this state) that supports artists through private funding. The McKnight Foundation states: We envision a world that recognizes the dignity of every human being, a world where we celebrate the creativity of the arts and sciences and come together to protect our one and only Earth.

Now who can’t get behind that?

I spent most of July working on my grant application, and the most challenging part was describing myself as an artist and how I make my art. Creative writing is not like the visual arts, and so much of my writing is not based in any sort of “process.” It’s more like thoughts and concepts escaping the confines of my brain!

Thankfully, I was able to take advantage of an opportunity to receive feedback on my application so that I was able to better understand what the prospective panel would find most compelling. I am transitioning from a hybrid-published non-fiction author to a traditionally published fiction author, and the funds from this grant will help me hire an editor for my novel, as well as continue to promote and market Crossing Fifty-One.

One of the biggest and least expensive ways to promote a book is through ratings and reviews! If you haven’t yet left a rating, you can do so right here. I only need two more to reach 100 ratings!

Rate Crossing Fifty-One!

Most importantly, having some funding to support my writing gives me an enhanced sense of purpose. My old job was very good for that, and I was honored to serve the public as an assistant county attorney. These days, I believe that art serves an equally important function as it has the capacity to lift us up, touch our souls and provide a little respite from the darkness that can hover around us.

This weekend, I took Billy the Travel Trailer to his winter storage place, conveniently right across the street! While chatting with Brenda, who was checking me in, I mentioned our epic trip to Texas, which included talking about my book presentation and she said “how can I get your book?”

I was thrilled. After I dropped off Billy, I zipped back home and returned with a copy for Brenda! Not only did I make a sale, I gained another reader! She’ll be taking her copy with her on a plane trip next week, and, when she’s finished, will lend it to her daughter. They trade books, like so many readers do.

What a fun, serendipitous experience!

Until next month,

~ Debbie

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NONFICTION: Unmapped: Solo Women Travelers on Bold Journeys of Healing, Resilience, and Self-Discovery Anthology Collected by Lizbeth Meredith

October is Domestic Violence Awareness month, and I was honored to have my essay included in this lovely anthology. Half the profits from royalties will go to the YWCA, whose programs provide housing and crisis support for survivors of domestic violence, as well as youth and family development activities, after-school care, and opportunities for education, health, and leadership.

FICTION: Black Cake by Charmaine Wilkerson

I continue to read family saga fiction as research for my novel. So much of it is secret based and this fine book is no exception. So many good themes of survival, resilience and perseverance. And regret.

Do you have a favorite family saga book? Reply to this email, or let me know in the comments!

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I’d originally titled this edition “Reaching the Pinnacle” because that’s exactly how I felt at the time I began writing to you all. Since “meeting” fellow author and University of Oklahoma professor Holly Karibo online in early 2021, I dreamed of a joint presentation in Fort Worth: Holly talking about her research into the Fort Worth Narcotic Farm and addiction treatment in the 1940s and 1950s, and me sharing Papa’s experience in that very facility.

When that dream became a reality, waaaay back in March, I was flying higher than a kite! After figuring out expenses for the trip, I decided that taking the dogs and the camper would cost me about the same as flying, staying in a hotel, and boarding. I love planning road trips, almost more than anything else in this world, so that part was super fun - choosing campgrounds and meticulously calculating drive times.

As the date for the trip approached, something popped onto one of my feeds informing me that Covid infections for Texas had reached the “very high” level. No worries, I thought. I’ll just get a booster before I go. No such luck. Because of the timing of my request, I was not eligible for the '24-25 version, and the '25-26 version had not yet been released. However, the pharmacist confidently told me to call him after Labor Day to schedule an appointment, as he expected to have the new batch in by then.

We all know how that turned out.

I’m not yet 65 and have no eligible qualifying conditions, so no vaccine for me prior to the trip.

About a week prior to departure, I developed a significant twitch in my right eye, in direct response, it would appear, to all the things that seemed to be going sideways. Significantly, I learned that a well known dog trainer had lost one of her dogs to a tragic accident involving excessive heat in a vehicle. While my superpowers include planning and problem solving, they can easily be negated by my tendency to catastrophize. I quickly purchased a camper monitor and made arrangements for the boys to be looked after during my presentation. Belt and suspenders, you know.

I also leaned on my study of stoicism as I watched the hummingbirds fattening themselves up before my very eyes. They have no time or bandwidth to worry, they just need to accumulate sufficient fuel for their trip south which is, by the way, a zillion times more challenging than my road trip to the “scary” state of Texas.

* * * * * * * * * *

UPDATE

Success!!!

My only real regret is that there’s not more photo evidence. But I didn’t get sick, my car didn’t break down, I didn’t blow out any tires, the dogs managed beautifully and the camper AC handled the brutal heat like a champ.

Additionally, I spent time with one of my favorite law school friends, enjoyed the Texas flora and fauna and, most significantly, my beloved eighty-eight year old aunt (“Precescious” in the book), flew in from San Diego. I was able to share the presentation with her, as well as spend special one-on-one time.

Unfortunately, Holly didn’t make it. Interestingly, she’d been scheduled to present on her book in February, but got sick and cancelled. That opened up the option for us to do a joint presentation, but alas, it was not to be. Lucky for me, I always have lots and lots to say about my book and I was able to fill the time. I met some wonderful, interesting people, who had their own experiences inside the facility! One of them sent me an article he’d published in 1982. It captured a study he and his co-author did on a sample of former inmates at the facility in the 1970s. Fascinating stuff.

I continue to be overwhelmed at the treasure trove of experiences I’ve accumulated since this book came out two years ago. Next month, I’ll have some more good news to share, so be sure to tune in!

Until next month,

~ Debbie

NONFICTION: Rehab on the Range: A History of Addiction and Incarceration in the American West by Holly Karibo

This is the book Holly was working on when I first contacted her in January of 2021! Her research is meticulous and I’m deferring to the Texas Observer for this nugget: “Fundamentally, this book reveals how the United States--and Texas--has long struggled to understand its own attitudes about drug addiction...These questions were already being asked 100 years ago, and we're still waiting for answers.” --Texas Observer

FICTION: Anxious People by Fredrik Backman

Full disclosure: I started this book and felt overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the characters’ thoughts and feelings throwing themselves all over the pages! But that’s actually the point of it… Backman creates complicated and very human characters, and this is ultimately a wonderful read!

CONSCIOUSNESS OF GUILT

Chapter Three: When Things First Started Going Sideways

By late September 2011, so much of my job was tedious and predictable. I know that may be hard to believe, but—as a cog in the vast Hennepin County criminal justice system—I spent a lot of time in my head incensed about all the things that were not within my control. Like judge assignments. In that time frame, the leadership of the bench had divided all the judges who were to handle criminal matters into three teams. My office followed suit and divided us violent crimes prosecutors into three teams. My team was dubbed the “serious traffic” team, to match the name of the six or so judges that were our counterparts.

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Have you ever met someone for the first time and, after chatting with them, thought to yourself: that person’s really interesting! I enjoyed the conversation!

I’ve now lived in the country for seven years. I’ve met a lot of nice people. Most of them ask: “aren’t you glad you got out of the city?” I always answer honestly. There are some things I don’t miss, but overall, I loved my time as a Minneapolis resident. The vibrancy and diversity of experience living in an urban environment stimulated me and made me feel good about my community.

But I digress.

A couple weeks ago, I met Mark (not his real name) when he came over to give me a quote to refresh my gravel driveway, which is almost a quarter mile long and full of potholes. I’d guess Mark’s in his early sixties. He grew up on a farm near Sartell and was one of eight children. Or maybe it was ten, I don’t remember. His was a Catholic family and his father seemed harsh, and probably abusive. Their living conditions stunned me. When Mark graduated from high school and asked if he’d have a place on the farm, his dad pointed him down the driveway and told him to take a right or a left.

Mark’s done a lot of interesting things in his life, but he eventually came back to farming. He’s also responsible for the maintenance of a township’s road system. Out here, many township roads are gravel. Unlike Minneapolis, there are no bike lanes and no parking issues.

It’s hard for me to understand why anyone would voluntarily return to the farming life. These days, smaller farmers are struggling with catastrophic losses and profound depression (see my nonfiction book pick below). However, Mark would not be one of them. He was gregarious and cheerful. As our conversation stretched on, he teased me by calling me a “tree-hugger,” a label I readily accepted without taking offense. In that moment, I’m sure we both understood that we are not at all aligned politically. He probably voted for Trump.

I’m sorry, I can’t hate him and I really enjoyed our conversation. Sometime, if I get the chance, I’ll ask him if he believes the 2020 election was stolen. And I still won’t hate him if he says yes. Instead, I’ll take the opportunity to find out why he thinks that.

It’s the absolute least I can do.

To quote George W. Bush: “Too often, we judge other groups by their worst examples - while judging ourselves by our best intentions…To renew our unity, we only need to remember our values. We have never been held together by blood or background. We are bound by things of the spirit – by shared commitments to common ideals.”

We can easily unearth those “things of the spirit” simply by getting out of our bubbles and asking others about themselves. It’s also the art of a good conversation!

If you haven’t yet downloaded the workbook I created to encourage meaningful conversations, you can get it right here!

Get the workbook

In other news, Crossing Fifty-One is the little book that keeps on chugging along - closing in on 100 Amazon ratings and 60 Goodreads Ratings! I’m so grateful! If you haven’t yet rated it, you can do so right here!

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THIS WRITER’S LIFE

As far as the new project goes, I’m getting close to finishing the first chapter for my agent to provide feedback. I’ve set a goal for myself to finish a first draft by March, 2026. I’ll be looking for beta readers, so if you’re interested, leave a comment or reply to this email!

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Until next month,

~ Debbie

FICTION: Someone Else's Shoes by Jojo Meyes

During a rough summer (weather and otherwise), books can provide a wonderful escape and I’ve decided that Jojo Meyes has become one of my go-to authors. This is a fun read with a lot of action and humor that kept me turning the pages. It’s like an ice cream cone - devoured quickly!

NONFICTION: Dodge County, Incorporated: Big Ag and the Undoing of Rural America by Trom Eayrs

This book is on hold at the library, but in light of my story about Mark, I wanted to recommend it this month, even though I haven’t yet read it. It was a 2025 Midwest Book Award winner and 2025 Minnesota Book Award finalist, so I think those are good endorsements.

From Bookshop: “In a compelling firsthand account of one family’s efforts to stand against corporate takeover, Dodge County, Incorporated tells a story of corporate malfeasance. Starting with the late 1800s, when her Norwegian great-grandfather immigrated to Dodge County, Trom Eayrs tracks the changes to farming over the years that ultimately gave rise to the disembodied corporate control of today’s food system. Trom Eayrs argues that far from being an essential or inextricable part of American life, corporatism can and should be fought and curbed, not only for the sake of land, labor, and water but for democracy itself.”

Chapter Two: There will be media attention

I need to start this story by letting you know right from the jump: I’m not, nor have I ever been, a workaholic. Instead, I embraced the “work to live” philosophy, and by the time I entered my twentieth year in the Hennepin County Attorney’s office, I’d mastered the important skill of compartmentalization, which meant leaving the work at the office and leaving the office exactly at the end of business hours. I stuck to a fairly rigid schedule—catching the 7:36 bus that stopped at my corner, arriving to work by 8:00, and leaving by 4:30 to catch the bus back home.

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Not gonna lie: this is shaping up to be the Worst. Summer. Ever.

I wish you could have seen my garden yesterday morning. All the prior week’s rain had turned it into a giant weed patch. Before the humidity forced an early retreat through the excess of sweat dripping down my face and stinging my eyes, I managed to pull the weeds around my cucumbers, tomatoes and Minnesota midget melons.

You guys, it looked so good! Even though my body was sulking in resentment, I basked in the pride of a job well done.

Fast forward 24 hours. Entering the garden again early this morning to conquer the remaining weeds, I was shocked to see mere remnants where, just twenty-four hours prior, there’d been hope for a decent harvest.

You’ll notice all the repellant granules I rage-dumped over the poor wounded cucumbers, but focus, please, on all the decapitation. #sorrynotsorry

I’ll stop here for all of you who were hoping for some light, inspirational reading and direct you back to my newsletter from a year ago when I was able to capture simple joy from a summer morning.

Sorry, I’m just not feeling it at the moment.

I know all the things I could say:

The obstacle is the way.

This too shall pass.

Everything for a reason.

For some reason, those little words of inspiration feel trite and not at all helpful. I’m also not interested in practicing toxic positivity, which I wrote about here:

It doesn’t help that the world at large feels cruel and quite hopeless. I once read that hope and fear are the same thing, because they are feelings about that which is yet to come. I also read that thinking about the past can make us depressed and thinking about the future can make us anxious, so what’s a person to do?

In my case…take another look the next morning:

🙂

One of my favorite songs is Unwritten by Natasha Bedingfield, because it’s such a reminder that we can’t get ahead of our skis, especially when we’re feeling pessimistic.

It’s hard for me to imagine that I’ll get a repeat of my pickle abundance from last year, but maybe I won’t be completely wiped out, either. An added perspective: this is something my farmer neighbors deal with every single summer. And unlike them, my livelihood doesn’t depend on producing gobs of vegetables.

I’ll be okay…I hope you’re okay, too.

Until next month,

~ Debbie

A couple of weeks ago, I participated in an author event up in Park Rapids, MN. Despite the storm the night before, the wind and obscene heat during the event, I made some new delightful author friends and sold EIGHT books!

I also enjoyed a lovely three-month marketing campaign and engaged with new readers. Here’s a link to a radio show I did on KAXE, called “What We’re Reading.”

As I work on my next book, I’m sketching out scenes and am excited to see where this story goes…

If the weather continues in its current abominable iteration (torrential rain followed by heat warnings), I’ll have no choice but to spend most of my days writing. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing!

I know many of you, like me, are Gen Xers. I stumbled upon this podcast on Instagram - kudos to them for good marketing! I’ve listened to a couple of episodes and really like this couple.

NONFICTION: On Tyranny: Twenty Lessons From the Twentieth Century by Timothy Snyder.

I’m always looking for lessons…perhaps it’s why I’m feeling as uneasy as I am right now. This is an important read for our time, regardless of your political leanings. Consolidation of power is never a good thing. Anywhere.

FICTION (HISTORICAL): Mockingbird Summer by Lynda Rutledge

For those of you OG subscribers, you may recall, I recommended West With Giraffes early on. Lynda Rutledge is a great writer, and this book is quite good. It’s a coming-of-age story set in a small, segregated town in TX in the 1960s. As we endure the turmoil of the present day, a look back is sometimes helpful.

Chapter One: Twenty-three days to circle the wagons

Day Zero: Tuesday, August 23, 2011

It was one of those lovely late-summer days in Minnesota that would ease into a pretty tolerable evening: seventy-six degrees, with a light breeze out of the south-southeast. As Katy Perry wrapped up her highly anticipated concert at the X-Cel Energy Center in St. Paul, across the river in Minneapolis, several motorists were calling 911, after unexpectedly encountering the lifeless body of Anousone Phanthavong in the middle of the Riverside Avenue ramp off I-94.

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