Imagination is the eye of the soul- Joubert

I still believe that generosity is its own reward
that kindness will prevail
that might- does not make it right
that a soft answer turns away the wrath
I still believe that there is power in gentleness
that there is more to us than flesh and bone
that life will bring more happiness if lived in peace and not possessions
I still believe people of gentleness and Faith can change the world
one unseen, unsung and unrewarded kindness at a time
I still believe in Love and nothing in my realm can make me stop Believing
 ~ Sentimental Studios

https://youtu.be/6oa619EG30k
Link to "Songbird" by Eva Cassidy
 
In 2001, I began to enter the uncharted waters of writing my first novel. At times, the seas saw me thru the fairest of weather, as I began to carve out the love story of Christian and Skylar.

As the compass of my writing broadened, I experienced life lessons and as heartbreak occurred, it became apparent the storms waiting for me- were expanding my abilities as a storyteller.

When I began to tell the tale of an unusual Sitka spruce tree to an Aboriginal man, who I had a chance encounter with; I shared how I had picked this particular tree to write a story about. He kindly replied: “We all have a spirit tree and the Sitka spruce has chosen you to write its life story.” 

Click on direct Link to Under the Sitka Tree Website: 

www.tlaltondesign.com

Years later, someone would sail into my life and turn my world upside down with his tales of world travels, beaches of white sand, never-ending flow of rum and escapades of wild trysts. He arrived for two weeks and in that time; he captured my heart as we embarked on our own adventures. We made plans to seek out the three sisters- Sitka trees- in Carmanah Pacific Provincial Park. I had stared many years at a poster of them, which were part of my inspiration for my novel. For the first time, as I gazed upon the natural cathedral splendour in the forest, I shed tears. As my arms wrapped around the brown scales of these majestic beauties, I inhaled the brackish scent clinging to them and was at peace, knowing my heartbeat was in sync with these trees. 

What began as the bare roots of my book- grew into a passion of unbridled enthusiasm to compose the story- which saw every spare moment I had, devoted to the craft of writing. I jotted notes on scrap pieces of paper, sketched certain things connected to my novel and over the years, I have amassed boxes of confirmation that I dedicated over a decade to Under the Sitka Tree.
 
When I started to write, I had certain characters in mind that would play out amongst the many pages I committed myself to. As I scribbled out time lines of a grand magnitude, it became apparent that I was the mere vessel of the epic tale, as characters morphed into others and some were deleted forever. 

There are occurrences which have also come to pass that were written into the original story, fourteen years ago. A unique skeleton key I created in my novel, fashioned itself to real life, many years later and found its way into my palm. The person who discovered this magical key was my daughter, Shayla. I clearly recall her coming up to me in a gift store and saying: “Close your eyes momma and open your hand for me.” Shayla knew certain things about my book and my wish is that I had shared more with her. She delighted in the look on my face, when I was stunned to be holding the key from my book, which had not yet been published.
Many unusual circumstances have happened with my first novel and I embrace every single one, as I know that a safe harbour awaits me in the end. 

In conducting my research over the years, I have come to learn parts of Canadian history which makes me proud of our country. Then, there are the secrets I peeled from our past- which revealed the ugly side of racism I was not fully aware of.
In our current times of struggling with equality, I am proud to have written a novel, which weaves the connections of our roots, to those who anchor us throughout our lives. 

The symbolism of Under the Sitka Tree is echoed in a variety of bird life, the remembrance enclosed in a poppy, the heart of a Rhodochrosite stone and a special brooch. 

When I first began to pen my story, I discovered an extraordinary box. From the moment, I lay my eyes upon it; I knew it would one day hold my book. It came with two keys and when I glanced closer, I saw a number inscribed on each one 11:11...the significance is the numbers are referred to the presence of angels.

The Dedication reads: To My Babygirl ~ Shayla Rae Dawn Driver.

 "A promise is a promise..."

Every author has a distinctive ceremony that they do, once a book is complete. Some light up that cigar they have been savouring since page one. Others crack open a fine bottle of cognac and inhale in the woodsy aroma, relishing in the nutty taste and the bit of heat that follows down their throat. 

Growing up, I loved to watch “Another World,” my favourite soap opera. One of the characters was a romance novelist known as “Felicia Gallant.” She had a zeal for feather boas and an eclectic array of hats. It was my introduction to the world of writing in a fantasy setting. 

For me, I carefully selected a 2013 Riesling wine from Cedar Creek Estate Winery. What drew me to it was the little golden tree on the label that reminds me of the ‘golden spruce.’ The other correlation is where the wine is from; Kelowna- in the Okanagan- where I lived for nearly thirty years. 

The plaque reads: "Love is a journey...not a destination..."

I shared with my dear friend Lilian about how Shayla and I used to always have on our road trips, bags of Miss Vickie’s chips to munch on. Our favourite kind was Lime and Black Pepper. Lilian knew I was finishing my novel and I wanted the potato chips, so she kindly bought me a large bag to be paired with my wine :) 

It seemed fitting to commemorate this celebration with something rooted to the beginnings of my book. There is a bittersweet acknowledgement given to a love story that no longer exists in this realm. However, that is the beauty of storytelling- you are the master of those who you write about- their fate resides in your hands… as you type away, what shall transpire. 

Since moving to the Island, I have been loyal to my writing- starting my edits on Under the Sitka Tree.  It has not been smooth sailing. February saw me spiral into unforeseen grief of the losses of two people, who I have had to mourn and let go in ways, I only know how. As a result, I made some poor choices and for several weeks, was in a dark place. 

When at last, I came upon a new horizon- one filtered with light- I felt rescued by my faith. 

As I seek a publisher for my novel, I have in times of my adversity, been able to release the pain into my writing; which I see as a form of free therapy. What has evolved, is a courageous woman, on the threshold of success knowing: Even in the dark, you have the power to whistle ~Buechner 

By T L Alton