BackWords is published! To obtain a copy, please visit the website at Warren Publishing or call us at 704.900.0236 Come visit our retail location at Corks, Cooks & Books in Rock Hill, SC or call Warren Publishing, Inc. POWERFUL BACKSTORY OF FIRST-EVER FEMALE PRINTER BRINGS OVERLOOKED WOMEN IN HISTORY BACK TO THE PAGE National (June 25th, 2024)—“Strong, resilient, smart women are the backbone of America,” writes Lisa Foster in her historical fiction novel, BackWords: The Story of Elizabeth Timothy. And it’s true; women are also among the most forgotten and overlooked individuals in history. Foster’s novel, published by women-owned and operated Warren Publishing, explores the life and contribution of Elizabeth Timothy, the first ever female printer, bringing to light a long-neglected piece of American women’s history. Stricken by the sudden death of her husband, Lewis Timothy, Elizabeth was left alone with multiple children to provide for and a legacy business to protect for generations of her family to come. The only problem was, she was a woman living in a time when only men could run and have businesses. Set in Charleston, South Carolina during the emergence of the American colonies, BackWords provides a captivating and investigative look into women’s roles in the publishing industry. This piece of historical fiction is an ambitious and well-researched account of Elizabeth’s tumultuous life and her enduring impact on publishing and printing. Her identity, that was for so long kept a secret, left an indelible mark on Charleston’s—and America’s—rich history. Lisa Foster chose to share Elizabeth’s story because she recognized Elizabeth’s resilience and realized her legacy was overlooked. Foster began uncovering tidbits of Elizabeth’s story through her own work as a reporter at multiple South Carolina print publications. “Elizabeth was an extremely able woman. Elizabeth could do the work just as well as any man, and I surmise perhaps even better.” Under her eldest son’s name, Elizabeth continued to publish the South Carolina Gazette herself in order to provide for her family and insure her son’s inheritance. She even fulfilled a printing agreement with Benjamin Franklin, and kept it all under wraps for the future of her family. BackWords is the perfect read for anyone in search of stories centered around powerful and intelligent women. “Remember these were the days when women had very few rights and were subjugated to housework, cooking, sewing, and procreating. Elizabeth created her own narrative for her life, because she had to, yes, but also because she could,” Lisa says. This inspirational narrative combines Lisa Foster’s creative voice with the undeniably enthralling details of Elizabeth’s story. Readers will leave with a necessary and inescapable understanding: Elizabeth’s work will not be forgotten. BackWords: The Story of Elizabeth Timothy can be ordered on Amazon.com, BarnesandNoble.com, warrenpublishing.net, and asked for wherever books are sold. For media interviews and author appearances, contact Lacey Cope at (704) 900-0236, lacey@warrenpublishing.net, or visit http://www.warrenpublishing.net/. ABOUTLISA FOSTER Lisa Foster is a life-long lover of writing and journalism who received her master’s in mass communications from the University of South Carolina. She has worked at Irmo Independent, the Columbia State-Record newspaper, and Charleston’s Post and Courier where she was commissioned to write her first book, Janie Mitchell, Reliable Cook. BackWords is her second book. Both are a testament of her skill in research and dedication to shedding light on the women history tends to forget. She currently resides in Tyron, North Carolina with her husband

BackWords

BackWords is in production! The true story of Elizabeth Timothy will be out soon. While we wait, I would LOVE it if you would follow me as we get closer to the book launch. Go to" Miles To Go" blogspot for updates!

Where Does The Time Go?

OK. I can handle getting older. For MYSELF. I have resigned myself to cragginess; even embraced it. It's kind of a demerit badge of honor for me. But what I cannot handle is the aging of my daughter. Those of you who know my baby girl know that she is my hero. I often like to say that, when I grow up, I'm going to be her. Fat Chance, but it's a nice idea. I could never be who she is. She is an an adult. I just play at it. She is smart and beautiful and kind and every other thing that I am not. I couldn't be she if I had a total body transfusion. a brain replacement AND a personality-ectomy. And my hero is now engaged. She will marry a fine young man in less than 5 months. This perfect person is about to create her own family. What happened? Did I fall asleep and wake up 26 years later? Where does the time go? Tempus fugit, they say, so carpe diem and gather them doggone rosebuds because life is ephemeral. It makes me think that perhaps I should be about gathering. And perhaps learning latin. But what is there to gather? Stamp collections? Rare books? Hummel figurines? I know the answer to that. And so do you. My only little girl is an adult now. And as I age, I can honestly say that I've learned more from her than I have ever taught her. She will make the world a slightly better place. This is all any of us can aspire to. May we all contribute small great things that make a positive difference. This is my old lady prayer.

Before I Die...

Unless we are fortunate enough to stick around until the Rapture, every single one of us is going to die. There's no getting out of it; our only choice is whether we do it on our own terms, which my religion teaches is a sin--no different than murder--or wait to be called home by Our Heavenly Father. I don't mean for this blog to be a downer. Quite the opposite: It is meant to be encouraging. If you are still drawing breath, then there is still hope: for redemption, for reconciliation, for change, for forgiveness, for action, and fulfillment, and closure. Before I die, I want to make a difference on this planet. I'm not aiming for anything extravagant: I just want to be a good friend, a good mother, a good daughter, a good sister, and a good spouse. I want to be faithful, supportive, trustworthy and honest with my fellow humans. I want to intuitively kmow when a kind word is needed, and I want to have the courage to offer it. I want to be kind, respectful and appreciative to all God's creatures. I want to adhere to the Hippocratic Oath: to first, do no harm. I want to draw breath and exhale it in a way that says, "I am here, fully present, and eager to make a positive difference." I want to use my time wisely in ways that encourage and uplift. Let no one whom I encounter walk away any the worse, and hopefully better. I want to live like I'm dying. Because I am. And so are you. But if I am honest, one of the things I want to accomplish most before I die, is to publish one more book: the book I promised Mrs. Pooser I would see to fulfillment, on her behalf. Anne Pooser spent years researching an historical figure who, to this day, has not received her just notoriety. When Anne could no longer continue the research, she magnanimously gave me all of her notes and everything she had written to date. It was a selfless thing to do; she yearned to tell the story more than she wanted the recognition. And as of this writing, I continue to let her down, although I have tried very hard to make her dream come true. Just a few days ago, I submitted her story to another novel contest, and With each submission I am, once again, hopeful. Because I have not (yet) been turned down again. I like this pocket of possibility. Publishing is a very difficult business, but I continue to persevere, and have recently sent the manuscript to a novel-writing contest. Just doing that one little thing gives me hope. Because until the answer is positively "NO,", then answer can still be "YES." I would like to hear from you. What is that one thing that you secretly hope to accomplish before you die? Send me your deepest, most private, yet-to-be realized accomplishment. Perhaps we can encourage each other.

Writing...

I couldn't have been more than 20 when I saw a cartoon in the newspaper that described me perfectly. It was simply titled, "Writing." The cartoon featured an older, portly businessman in a tailored suit. He sat behind a daunting desk, smoking a pipe. Behind him, floor-to-ceiling bookcases brimmed over with the sum of every civilizations' knowledge. The whole vibe was so intimidating that it let you know, in no uncertain terms, that you should have called to cancel that appointment before you even made it. Across the desk from the pipe smoker, a hippy sat: long hair, sunglasses, wearing blue jeans and a sleeveless vest with no shirt underneath. The beatnick spoke to the businessman. This is what he said: "It started out as a suicide note. Then I corrected the spelling of a few words; rearranged a sentence or two; became interested in the style; developed plot lines and added suspense; inserted a few flashbacks to my miserable childhood and, of course, many bedroom episodes from my formative and adult years. Never once did I dream I would wind up talking to you about subsidiary rights." I loved it so much that I embroidered the cartoon on a piece of muslin and framed it. It is sitting on my desk even now. The cartoon has kept me going, even when I wanted to quit, all my life. It reminds me that so often, we find ourselves on the precipice of dispair, never realizing that we are just one key stroke away from success. Perhaps it is the despair, and perhaps only the despair, that can get us where we need to be, that can save us. That can get us to the place where we can finally reach the dream. And all the while, we rarely realize the untold numbers of souls who, without ceasing, encourage us. The angels who fight our demons unceasingly, in their effort to see us achieve our best lives. We should not fight against them. For Susie. Thank-you.

Westward Ho!

Last night PW and I watched a (nother) western movie in preparation for our epic "Westward Ho" trip this September. Neither one of us has even a smidge of bow-leggedness in our bones, nor do we "pack" our pistols when we pack, but we're really looking forward to experiencing the Great American West. We have begun stacking stuff by the door already, which is our motus operandi work-around for PW's ADD and my leaky brain. The reasoning is that if we have to trip over it to get to the car, we won't forget it. So far we have stacked our Grand Canyon hats, some Levi's and our chic-kicking rodeo boots. The hybrid Rav-4 is not exactly the Westward Ho type vehicle you might think of when you think of the West, but we've pimped it out with black and tan seat covers, and at 43 miles to the gallon, I couldn't care less if it was a clown car. But for this trip, it can be a rodeo clown car. Supplies yet to be purchased are snake venom antidote and sun tan lotion, and perhaps motion sickness medication for the Balloon Ride we plan to experience in Albuquerque on our escapades. I love that Albuquerque is our first stop, because the city's name has "quirky" in it. I'm calling it "al-buh-quirky," with no disrespect intended to the spanish royalty aftter whom it is named. Beginning from our our cabin in the woods, our first stop will be Hopkinsville, Kentucky, which the internet informs me is one of the few documented sites for the Trail of Tears. From there we will venture on to Kansas City, and then to Sioux City and Rapid City, South Dakota. Plans are to arrive in Billings, Montana, where we will visit Mt. Rushmore, carved by the Confederate stone carver Gutzon Borglum, who also carved Stone Mountain in Georgia. We also plan to swing by Sturgis, famed for biker-types and bare-chested women, although there will be nothing of a leud and licivious nature happening at that time. Just in case, though, I have my tatt design already drawn up: it's an angry parrot, sporting a "Ride or Die" helmet on his head and his wings on the handlebars of a Harley. Just need to get the magic markers. From there we enter Glacier National Park, where hopefully, there will still be a glacier to see. Sadness. But I digress... Next stop is Great Falls, Montana. I have never been to Montana but I can smell it from here. That's how I picture it, at least. The travel videos we've been viewing look very green, lush and scenty. I imagine it to smell like Acadia in Maine: all Christmassy, all the time. Lovely. Freezeout Lake is next, where we will also take in the Missouri River on our way to Bozeman and Galatin, where PW wants to do some river fishing and I'll cop a squat with my binocs, hoping for some new stars in my bird book. Stay tuned as we complete preparations and begin our trip to see our great big beautiful country!

I don't know about you, but the lens through which I view my life has been drastically transformed this past year. Before the pandemic, the things I worried about were not even marginally comparable: should we walk around the neighborhood in the morning, or save it for the evening? Ribs for dinner or barbecue? Which cute little North Carolina town shall we visit today? Banner Elk?, Blowing Rock?, Boone?, Brevard?, Bryson City? Or do we go really crazy insane and consider visiting a town that doesn't begin with B? The pandemic changed all that, and I imagine most of us are glad to leave 2020 in the rear view. But perhaps this is a good time to focus on that mirror, and try to find the positive, even if "positive" is a BAD WORD these days. The internet is gracious to give us the Top Ten Awful Things That Happened in 2020: Coronavirus, Australian Bushfires, Ukrainian Flight Crash, Death of Kobe Bryant, Lockdown in Italy, Postponement of the 2020 Summer Olympics, Taal Volcano Eruption, PIA Plane Crash, Taj Mahal Incident, the death of George Floyd...and those are just the "highlights." So in defiant retaliation, I offer you a list of a "Johnny Carson-esque" Top Ten Twenty-Twenty Warm Fuzzies from many different internet sources, in the hope that it uplifts you and reminds you that, as bad as 2020 was, there were some good, maybe even some great moments we can focus on as we reflect on the year we just closed out. 10: Drive-in movies made a comeback, and home-made movies became a family event, from scripting to filming to watching the finished project, with extended family members of all ages participating. 9: A ground swell of people sewed face masks for people who needed them. 8: Andre Bocelli held an beautiful, emotional concert on Easter Sunday in an empty Milan cathedral. 7: People bought books. And read them. 6: Board games returned. Families shared time with each other. 5: Our. Amazing. Doctors and Nurses. God love them and bless them all. 4: People...outdoors?? Say WHATT??? 3: Many families used the down-time to exercise, and no doubt felt physically and mentally better for it. 2: Our planet was given a well-deserved break from carbon emissions and ocean garbage. 1:We had our priorities rearranged. While I do not ever want another pandemic to descend on our planet, I am grateful for the reality check. It has thrown my happy little world into the diminsion of stark reality, reminding me that time is short. This observation makes the words of Mark Twain even more poignant: "The two most important days in your life are the day you are born and the day you find out why." We all can do a better job answering that second question. Twain knew something about the urgency of finding that "why." He was born two months early and was in poor health for the first 10 years of his life. His mother coddled him, which must have exasperated him enough to develop his mischievious streak. But "Mom" got the last laugh, though. When she was in her 80s, her son asked her if she had been uneasy about his poor health. She told him she was worried about him the whole time. Clemens asked her if she was afraid he wouldn't live. She said, "No. I was afraid you would." Now we know where he got his sense of humor. Would that we all were just as feisty, and all our mothers just as terrified. Perhaps that is the "gift" that 2020 has given us: a refocusing of our priorities so that we can fully appreciate those two important days in each of our lives, and share our reason for being here in a meaningful way.