Author Archives: leararhodes

Leara’s Lore #11: For the Love of Horses

Writing a novel was hard work. The research needed to learn how to care for horses in the late 1800s was difficult. I did not have a lot of time. I began writing Spancil Hill in 2018. I finished it in 2023. It was published in 2024. I was teaching full time at UGA until 2020 so I could not devote time to the book until 2021. I enjoyed the research, learning about Irish history and culture in the late 1800s, and Shire horses. 

I had finished the book and reread it to discover that I had to get four Shire horses from Galway to Boston and then New York in forty days

Leara’s Lore #10: Writing Friends for Decades

Forty-five years ago, Chuck Conner and I met at a writers’ conference held at Epworth-by-the-Sea on St. Simons Island, Georgia. We were both working full-time jobs and trying to write on the side. Chuck attended Emory at Oxford College and was accepted into Emory University School of Medicine on a full scholarship and graduated with..

Leara’s Lore #9: Book Signing at AthFest

As summer temperatures climb in Georgia, gardening and getting a much-needed walk must be done in the morning. Afternoons are set aside for writing, editing, and housekeeping, inside with air-conditioning. Saturday afternoon, though, I requested a slot during AthFest to sign copies of Spancil Hill between noon and two.

Leara’s Lore #8: Book Launch in Words and Pictures

My task as a writer is to create images out of words, to set scenes, to choose dialogue that will tell more of the story. I tossed about in my head for several days the argument of is “a picture worth a thousand words.” My resolution is that both writing and photos are important. As I display photos from the book launch, which are wonderful and have meaning mostly for me, I must attach context of the people and the photographers. There is more of a story here than just the photos.

Leara’s Lore #7: Early Writing Mentors

I wanted to be a poet. I wrote poems that I stuffed into the bottom of a tissue box so no one
would read them but me. As a preacher’s daughter, I grew up living in a pastorium and when
there were revivals, the visiting minister would stay in our house. That meant that my brother’s room decorated by the Women’s Missionary Union, housed the visitor and my brother slept on the living room sofa.
Dr. Roy Beaman, a professor at the New Orleans Theological Seminary in New Orleans came as a revival preacher. Dr. Beaman wore glasses that were cracked and I was interested in how he saw things, literally and figuratively. He wrote poetry. I wrote poetry.

Writers’ Retreat in Ireland

My first writing trip to Ireland was to stay at Anam Cara Retreat on the Beara Peninsula near the village of Eyeries. The name Anam Cara means “soul friend” in Irish; it was chosen, in part, to pay tribute to the work and writing of John O’Donohue. The hostess, Sue Booth-Forbes is an experienced writerContinue reading “Writers’ Retreat in Ireland”

Leara’s Lore #6: SPANCIL HILL By Leara Rhodes | Published by Old Fort Press

When I turned in the key to the university office that I had occupied for nearly three decades, I had no idea what my future may hold. I had an academic routine that one could count on. Now I had endless days to fill. I began with a plan.

Leara’s Lore #5: High School Reunion, Check

My father loved Thomas Wolfe and would read his books over and over. I grew up hearing quotes from “You Can’t Go Home Again”:

You can’t go back home to your family, back home to your childhood, back home to romantic love, back home to a young man’s dreams of glory and of fame, back home to exile, to escape to Europe and some foreign land, back home to lyricism, to singing just for singing’s sake, back home to aestheticism, to one’s youthful idea of ‘the artist’ and the all-sufficiency of ‘art’ and ‘beauty’ and ‘love,’ back home to the ivory tower, back home to places in the country, to the cottage in Bermuda, away from all the strife and conflict of the world, back home to the father you have lost and have been looking for, back home to someone who can help you, save you, ease the burden for you, back home to the old forms and systems of things which once seemed everlasting but which are changing all the time–back home to the escapes of Time and Memory.