Katie Ganshert, Author at Katie Ganshert

Wildflowers from Winter: Hope after Death

Posted on April 13, 2012October 19, 2012 by Katie Ganshert

It is with great pleasure that I introduce you to a dear friend today. Kristin Reickard and I go the same church, and even attend the same small group. She and her husband were instrumental in our decision to adopt.

God has already used their testimony in big ways. I trust He will continue to do so here today.

A Family is Made

We know firsthand the sorrow, the deep pain of mourning. We also know what it is to have God turn our mourning into the oil of gladness, to be given a crown of beauty instead of ashes.

In 2004, our second child Kael Xavier was born. Our little son seemed perfect. Although he was a bit fussy, we were reassured that was normal for babies of C-sections and were allowed to bring him home. At home, though, Kael’s fussiness grew, as did his jaundice. We decided to take him into the doctor a bit early.

At worst, we guessed Kael would need to be under bilirubin lights. We never could’ve imagined the words that would come out of the doctor’s mouth… “Your son’s bilirubin levels are incredibly high, which indicates his liver may be failing.” Going forward in shock and utter disbelief, we found ourselves with our 11 day old son in the NICU of a Children’s Hospital.

We had many ups and downs in the hospital, days we weren’t sure he would pull through, surgeries with very high risks. After 51 days on this earth, our brave little Kael could no longer put forth any more fight. My husband and I were privileged to be able to be there for our son’s birth, and also to hold him in his death.

Our grief was fresh, hard, and real. After Kael’s autopsy, we found out the disease that caused his liver to fail was 80% likely to occur in any future biological children. This disease was almost always fatal unless an experimental treatment was used. After a year of deep grieving, we decided to go forward and try to get pregnant again. After only a few weeks of pregnancy, our third child died.

The pain was beyond words. The grieving took a toll on all of us, and my husband declared we were done having children. It was too hard to open ourselves up to that hurt again. Although we could’ve tried pregnancy again as well as some other options, my heart immediately was drawn to adoption. NO ONE could ever replace Kael or the unborn child we lost, but I didn’t want to lose a future with other children to love on too.

Over time, the desire to adopt grew inside of me. It became so strong that I prayed for God to either change my heart or change my husband’s. And God answered that prayer… He changed my husband’s heart.

On our journey to beauty, we realized that so many children in the world were dying or growing up without a family, no one to guide them, protect them, or love them. They had ashes too. A fire was ignited in our hearts for the fatherless and we began our journey. We adopted our son Jaevan Jee from South Korea in 2008. And the beauty was palpable, overwhelming, and amazing. Then we adopted our daughter Aria Jiang from China in 2011. And now we are in the process of adopting 2 children from Haiti.

Each member of our family has a story of ashes, different pieces of pain and suffering because of this broken world. And God took all of our ashes and made something BEAUTIFUL out of them.

…to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion— to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. Isaiah 61:2b-3a

Let’s Talk: Have any questions about adoption? Kristin is the gal to ask! Say hi. Introduce yourself. And if you get a chance, hop on over to Kristin’s blog to read about their journey.

If you’d like to read a story about God’s ability to redeem those barren, broken seasons in our lives, or if you’re struggling to hold onto hope in the midst of heartache, check out the first three chapters of Wildflowers from Winter for free, or visit my Wildflowers from Winter page to order a copy of your own!

Bethany Quinn on Going Home

Posted on April 11, 2012April 11, 2012 by Katie Ganshert

If you haven’t noticed, Katie likes to get all spiritual on Wednesdays. So when I started looking for an opportunity to introduce myself, to tell my side of the story, I was hoping for a Monday or a Friday. Anything but a Wednesday. Yet here I am and we all know what day it is.

I figure I should take what I can get.

My name is Bethany Quinn. Wildflowers from Winter is my story. And I’m here to tell you that Katie and I haven’t exactly seen eye to eye lately.

We used to be fine. We used to coexist in peace. Until she started talking about Peaks. Until she got it in her head that I should go back.

I keep telling her she doesn’t understand what she’s asking.

Because unlike me, she likes her hometown.

To her, home is a happy place. With two loving parents, a perfectly respectable house, and a bunch of nostalgic memories.

She never had to deal with death. Or unwanted stares. Or whispers and gossip and speculation that tiptoed much too close to the truth.

Her memories frolic. My memories lurk.

They loiter on the corner outside of town, next to Jorner’s General Store and that green population sign.

They linger in the trailer park where I lived for ten miserable years.

They skulk among the stiff wooden pews of First Light and the deep end of the public swimming pool and in that tall silo on my grandpa’s farm, where everything started.

You see, Katie left home with every intention of going back.

I left with every intention of staying away.

Yet here she is, telling me it’s time to face my past. Insisting it’s the only way to move forward. As if I’m not already moving forward. As if I’m not an architect for one of the most prestigious firms in Chicago. As if I don’t live in an impressive downtown loft. Or have a boyfriend who is charming and successful and takes me to places like Vail on the holidays.

She keeps looking at me like she’s unimpressed. Like I’m the one who’s missing something.

She keeps telling me it’s time to go home.

Only she doesn’t understand that Peaks isn’t my home. It stopped being my home a long time ago. Going back won’t help anyone. Not me. Not my mother. Not Robin.

I’m not the only one fighting this battle. I was talking to my friend Bailey (check out what she has to say on Dani Pettrey’s blog) the other day and we’re starting to suspect that Katie and Dani are in cahoots. Because Dani keeps pushing Bailey to go home too. The two of them insist it’s for the best.

Whose best? That’s what I want to know.

Let’s Talk: Have you ever had to do something when it was the last thing in the world you wanted to do? If so, how’d you come out on the other side?

Interested in reading my story? You can preorder Wildflowers from Winter on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, or Christianbook.com

Struggling with the past? Check out Katie’s Facebook Author Page or Dani Pettrey’s Facebook Author Page to read a note from the authors.

Katie’s over at Jessica Nelson’s blog today chatting about publication.

A Different Take on Branding: Four Doorways

Posted on April 9, 2012April 9, 2012 by Katie Ganshert

A friend shared this very enlightening article with me the other day and it made all kinds of light bulbs go off in my head.

Basically, the article discussed four doorways, or access points, of fiction:

Story
Character
Setting
Prose

As readers, we gravitate to certain doorways.

There are those who pick up a book, hoping for a page-turner. Story is their flavor of choice.

There are those who pick up a book, hoping to fall in love with the protagonist. Character is their flavor of choice.

There are those who pick up a book in hopes of being carried off to a different place, perhaps a different time. Setting is their flavor of choice.

And there are those who pick up a book, hoping for a well-turned phrase. Prose is their flavor of choice.

Nancy Pearl, the author of the article, thinks we often go about recommending books in the wrong way. We ask a person what genre they prefer. Or what topics interest them. But maybe, it’s all about the access point.

Nancy says, “When we want a book exactly like the one we just finished reading, what we really want is to recreate that pleasurable experience.”

How true is this?

She goes on to explain that every book has a prominent access point. The key is finding which access point a reader prefers and recommending books accordingly.

I found this all to be incredibly fascinating. Especially in light of the great branding debate.

Rachelle Gardner recently wrote a post titled Can I Write in Multiple Genres? A very informative, helpful post about the importance of specializing, especially for those of us early in our careers.

I agree with everything she says. I don’t think any of us should aspire to become the jack of all trades.

But what if our brand is much less about genre, and much more about the experience we create for our readers? Maybe it doesn’t matter if we branch out a bit, so long as we keep our primary access point the same.

For all I know, this could be horrible advice. I just think it’s interesting thought fodder.

After reading the article, I asked my friend which doorway she gravitates toward. She said character. Then she said something else that really resonated:

The really great books? The ones we can’t put down. The ones we read over and over again. The ones we share with our friends. They excel in all four.

As authors, that should be our ultimate goal.

It reminded me of the post I wrote on Rachelle’s blog last week, Finding the Sweet Spot. I talked about excelling with our prose and our story. But really, that’s only half of the equation. The super sweet spot comes when we master all four – story, prose, character, and setting.

Let’s Talk: Which doorway do you gravitate toward? Have you read a book that combines the strengths of all four doorways? What do you think is more important when it comes to branding – doorway or genre?