Category Archives: The Restorer’s Journey

Reader Art

Reader Art

Reader art is fun!

Over the years, readers of the Sword of Lyric books have created sketches, poems, banners, jewelry, or photos of themselves playing Perish (the game that Kieran and Zarek play in The Restorer’s Son.) One year, I hosted a songwriting contest.  The beautiful lyrics submitted by readers of the series filled me with awe. I always feel honored when other artists springboard from these stories and create something new.

New Inspiration

Yesterday, a reader sent me her digital image of Susan riding Mara. Thank you, Kristi Simonson, for sharing this with us! She found comfort in the stories during a difficult time of life.

If you have created any fan art – a poem, drawing, song, painting, please send it to me so I can share it with other readers. One of the fans of the Sword of Lyric series has started a special Facebook group “People of the Verses” for discussing the books. If you’re interested, check it out!

Haven’t read the books yet? The paperback editions are now BACK IN PRINT! The “buy” button is activated at Amazon. They may show as “Out of Stock” but as soon as people begin ordering again, they will get back into the pipeline and on the way to you.

The Restorer

The Restorer’s Son

The Restorer’s Journey

The Deliverer

Blessings!

Sharon Hinck

(full disclosure – this post contains affiliate links)

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Bonus Scene – Restorer’s Journey – Lukyan

 

Bonus Scene After Chapter 14

Lukyan:

Wade and Jake left my cottage in such a hurry they didn’t slide the door closed. Bracing myself against my chair arms, I eased to my feet. Each of my bones grumbled a reminder of my age as they took my weight. I was too old for all this chaos and danger.

I limped to the doorway and looked out at the trees. “Holy One, is it time for me to come home yet?” I whispered. “I long to serve where you need me, but the times are growing so dark, and my strength is growing frail. I’m ready to join You now. Look into my heart. It’s breaking with the knowledge that Your people are being deceived.”

I slid the door, shutting out the view of Braide Wood, wishing I could shut out the vivid picture of the clans trapped in confusion and doubt. Why would the One have allowed Cameron to create false Verses? How could He expect the people to know whom to follow? Had my counsel to Jake helped? I rejoiced in the young man’s passion to protect the true Records, but could such an untried youth stand against so many powerful enemies?

You were an untried youth once, too.

The gentle reminder tugged a smile from my lips. “You’re right, Blessed One. Jake doesn’t walk alone, and neither do I. Will you join me for my meal?”

I took a small bread loaf from the basket on my table. Tara had brought them over yesterday. Always thinking of others, even when supplies were scarce. Indulging in a small luxury, I set the loaf on a heat trivet. Tara’s bread was already delicious, but warming it filled my home with a yeasty, nutty scent. Picking it up, I tore the loaf in half and lifted the pieces.

“Creator of this fragile flesh,
Sustainer of my life’s brief length,
Provider of all humble needs,
I thank you for this gift of strength.”

The childhood prayer comforted me. Some songkeepers were sure that the longer we lived, the more we would understand the Verses, grow in character, and follow the One with faithfulness and purity.
I took a small bite and chewed slowly. A lovely theory. My love for the One did grow with years of knowing Him. But my failings became even more obvious to me, more frustrating, more ingrained. And the more glimpses I had of the One’s work, the more I longed to see Him face to face, away from the shroud of this troubled world. My old teacher often told me that straining to see around the next bend in the road would cause me to stumble over the stones on my current path.

Carrying my bread and a mug of lukewarm clavo, I settled into my chair. Each songkeeper felt a unique calling to various aspects of the Verses. Many loved teaching, studying, reviewing, and analyzing the meaning of the genealogies and the parts of the Records that looked to the past. Others drew joy from the practical counsel and rules for serving the One and others in each present day. But I’d always been most intrigued with the Verses that looked to the future. The Deliverer who would come.

As a young songkeeper, I asked the One each day when that promise would be fulfilled. As a grown man, seeing ever growing threats against our clans, I asked again, often with earnest tears. In recent seasons as danger piled upon danger, I continued to ask. Each time, I heard a quiet voice answer, “Soon.”

More of a habit than a new conversation, I asked again. “Creator of our land, Protector of our people, how much worse must we face before You come as our Deliverer? Isn’t it time?”

Before you draw your last breath, Child. You will see the Deliverer.

The morsel of bread caught in my throat and I coughed so hard, I doubled over. Fumbling for my mug, I gulped some liquid, wiped the tears from my eyes. Had I heard correctly? I knew the only sensible response to the One’s words was, “Let it be so.”

But this answer was so unexpected, so specific. The skin rose on the back of my neck. My limbs trembled, as they sometimes had when the mist lowered on worshippers in the Lyric tower. “What? When? How can that be? Have you noticed how old I am? Do you mean I’ll see a vision of Him? You can’t mean . . .”
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My objections finally stammered to a halt. Oh, the foolish babbling that overcomes us when we are in the presence of all holiness and wisdom and love. I eased from my chair to my knees and lifted my arms as far as my stiff shoulders would allow. Wonder and gratitude stole my voice. But my heart exploded in song, a song of two words, over and over in ever rising pitch. “Thank you.”

Read more in The Restorer’s Journey by Sharon Hinck

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Bonus Scene – Restorer’s Journey – Wade

 

Wade (After Chapter 11)

The path from Braide Wood to the transport was rock-strewn and hard under my feet. Usually the sounds of small creatures created happy whispers throughout the woods. Today the silence was as cold as angry lips pressed together. Even the trees seemed to droop. So much had changed since Cameron became king.

I reached a familiar bend in the trail and rubbed the scars on my arm. Each time I strode past this place, I remembered the night the bear attacked our small group. A grin broke through my gloom. Now that was an enemy I knew how to fight.

Give me a bear over Council politics any day. I could carry a heavy load, or swing a sword long after everyone else tired. But the planning, the strategies, the heavy choices I’d seen Tristan have to make…those weren’t for me. These days, strength, courage, and loyalty were no longer enough. I wanted to help Jake, but was this the best way to do it? Would he be safe back at camp with the group of suspicious guardians? I wanted to serve the clans, but was it right to keep our men together secretly when the king had ordered the guardians disbanded? The questions baffled me.

I hitched up my sword belt and clambered over a fallen tree branch in the path. Sorting out the answers was better left to smarter men. Yet here I was, on my way to skulk around the city of Lyric.

Again. When Cameron’s men grabbed Susan from Braide Wood that first season, Tristan sent me to protect her. I spent days prowling the back alleys of Lyric, asking questions in a way that I’d hoped was subtle, and poking around dark underground rooms.

When I finally caught up to Susan, I accidentally walloped Markkel over the head. That’s what comes of sending a simple guardian to deal with complicated plots. He’d eventually warmed up to me. Even asked me to be his house protector. The weight of my pack lightened. I lengthened my stride. Markkel’s family needed my protection. That much was clear.

When I reached the transport stop, I gazed up and down the tarred road. With so many other changes in our clans, I couldn’t assume anything. If they were no longer running, I’d have a hike of many days to reach Lyric. I paced the paved road, listening to the glum silence while I waited.

Thankfully, the midday transport glided up before the afternoon rains started. It was empty. Rendor families no longer traveled past Braide Wood on their way to the other clans. The emptiness was an eerie reminder that none of us were sure what had happened to all those families. Cameron said they were happily sharing their land with the Kahlareans. Even I wasn’t gullible enough to believe that.

I sank onto a lonely bench. Perhaps I’d find Susan rallying councilmembers as she did before the battle of Morsal Plains. Maybe she’d be able to convince the king to reinstate the guardians. If anyone could, it would be her. But our people were angry and confused. What if they blamed her for leaving? I rested my hand on my sword hilt. My head ached. I was thinking too much again.

Linette would remind me that problems were often beyond our intellect to solve, and that we were meant to rely on the One’s wisdom instead. I scratched my head. But would she tell me it was right to rescue a former Restorer from our current king? They were both appointed by the One, weren’t they?
I whistled an off key tune as wheels hummed a steady rhythm, and trees and steep ridges gave way to gentler hills. Gradually a melody formed, and the words spun free from the clutter and confusion in my brain.

Awesome in majesty, perfect in power. 

I leaned back against the bench. Of course. Cameron might be king, but even a king could make mistakes. The One was the only true king. This situation that was so confusing wasn’t too complex for Him.

“Show me my next step,” I whispered. “And protect the men while I’m away. Oh, and Jake. I have a hunch he’s going to need You, too.”


You can read the rest of the story in The Restorer’s Journey (Book 3 of the Sword of Lyric Series)

 

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Bonus Scene – Restorer’s Journey – Mark

 
After chapter 6
Mark:
Dust floated uncaring from the rafters. I reached my arm toward the empty space where my son had stood seconds before. Gone. 
My heart pounded, sending a jarring pulse against my broken ribs. I grabbed the nearest portal stone, shifted its position, and realigned it with the others. No subtle vibration, no tingling tug of the portal, no hint of life. I picked up the others. The stones were dead weight in my hands.
I’d been ready to die in the effort to reach Susan—but I hadn’t been ready for this. Shut out, facing horrible emptiness. And now Jake was gone, too.
“No!” The cry tore open my cut lip and I tasted blood. I crumpled to the plywood floor. Bones grated. Bruises throbbed. But the pain was nothing compared to the raw horror in my soul.
For weeks I’d contemplated destroying the portal stones, and then worked on ways to alter or control them. Anything to keep Cameron and Medea from returning to harm the clans. Even after Cameron and Medea invaded our house, I thought by purposely misaligning the stones I could hinder them. After they surprised me and dragged Susan with them, Jake had to snap me out of my shock. We formed another new plan. And now I faced another disaster.
Jake was gone, too. Lost, unreachable. In danger. Like Susan.

Susan’s journal rested on the chair we’d set up for her quiet refuge. It seemed years ago that she’d smiled at me, thanking me again and again for building this space, for finding some tangible way to help her with her inner pain. I inched toward it. My Council tunic caught on a nail head, and I tugged it free. I’d love to tear the entire thing apart, along with all the choices that had led to this moment. Instead I picked up her journal and hugged it against my chest. “Lord, bring her back to me.” The longing was so deep, I could only whisper the words.

I gently set the journal back on her chair. Time to find a solution.

First, I tried every improbable trick I could think of to activate the portal. Placing the old plastic sword between the stones produced no reaction. Tossing a ball across the space triggered nothing. Stepping in and out of the space and re-positioning the portal stones again and again did nothing.
Next, I brought the stones down to my basement workbench and pulled out my tools. I tinkered for hours, looking for clues in the hidden mechanisms that could bring them back to life. My worries swung between Susan and Jake. At least when Jake went through the portal, the stones weren’t misaligned. And he wasn’t in the company of Cameron and Medea. What was Susan going through?

Hours later, I rubbed my eyes, as my tools and the workbench slipped in and out of focus. My whole body was one throbbing ache, and now I was swaying on my feet from exhaustion.

I took the stones and a sleeping bag back up to the attic. In the past, our sojourns through the portal had taken little time in this world. Susan and Jake could return at any moment. Or perhaps they’d be able to send a message somehow. Until they did, I needed to stay close. I unrolled the sleeping bag and curled up, ears straining for any hopeful sound. If I couldn’t sleep beside my wife, at least I’d sleep beside this fragile link that I had to her.

As the darkness settled around me, my desperate hope provided cold comfort.

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Happy News

I know I haven’t been able to blog much this past year, but for those who still pop by occasionally to see what’s new, I wanted to share some happy news.

I’ve signed a contract with Marcher Lord Press to release new editions of the Sword of Lyric series books. While it’s great to get the books back in print, I’m especially excited about adding some bonus scenes, behind-the-scenes notes, and other surprise features that will make the new editions extra special.

And – to answer the question I find most frequently in my emails each week – yes, I have been working on a fourth book, as well. I had several chapters of the fourth book written a few years ago before health issues sidelined me. Whenever I’m able, I do a bit more work on it, and have made a tiny bit of progress. It’s slow going, but I’m not giving up. 🙂

Meanwhile, have a blessed Christmas, and may you feel the presence of Emmanuel – “God with us” – throughout each moment of every day.

His,
Sharon Hinck

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Three Books Final – and my weird realizations

I was deeply touched yesterday to find out that my three novels that released in 2008 were each named finalists in the ACFW Book of the Year Awards. I felt so warm and grateful that the judges appreciated the stories, and that my books were in the company of so many amazing authors.

It also spurred a few realizations.

First, I had to shake my head at myself – because the books are nominated in three different categories. It just reminded me how totally inept I am at doing things the way you’re supposed to. It really isn’t practical to write in different genres while trying to build a reading audience. It wasn’t my plan. I just wrote the stories I cared about, and they were very diverse stories. I hope one day to figure out where I best fit, but in the meantime I’m so grateful for each of the stories and that there even EXISTS such a variety of genres in Christian fiction.

Another realization I had was that a lot of my warm happy feeling about this honor came from being happy for my characters. I fell in love with the characters in these three books (Stepping Into Sunlight, Symphony of Secrets, and Restorer’s Journey) – and I’m happy for those characters to get to stand up and wave and say “hi!” – for them to have a moment of recognition. Is that weird?

Oh, well.

At any rate, I’m also thankful for ACFW – an organization that is doing so much to support, educate, and NOURISH writers. If you aren’t familiar with them, be sure to check them out here! Honors come and go (or often don’t come at all) but the fellowship of other Christian writers is a treasure that remains on all the hard slogging days.

Blessings!
Sharon Hinck

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Opportunity for Three Free Books

I was very honored when Janna Ryan named The Restorer’s Son and The Restorer’s Journey as her Most Entertaining books of 2008. She is currently offering a contest to win a copy of The Restorer’s Son. You can read all about it here.

My most recent novel is Stepping Into Sunlight. You can enter a drawing to win a free copy at the Penny’s Project blog here. That contest ends February 1st, so stop by to leave a comment before time runs out.

And beginning on Friday, January 30, Cara Putman will post a contest at her blog for The Restorer (the first in the Sword of Lyric series) – so be sure to stop by and leave a comment there, as well.

Curious about any of the books? Just visit my website to read about my

Stand alone women’s fiction titles
and
The Becky Miller mom-lit series
and
The Restorer and other Sword of Lyric series books

I hope you have fun with each of these opportunities! Happy reading!
Blessings,
Sharon Hinck

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Sunday in San Diego

My last post was a week ago – hard to believe!
And it feels like that was a month ago. So much has happened on the road. But blogging didn’t. In spite of my best intentions I didn’t find many opportunities for internet access or time in our full days.

This morning I’m going to church with my friend Susie Meissner who opened her home for me to stay and then is taking me to the airport (in spite of the fact that she has a book launch today, for her wonderful new title, The Shape of Mercy).

When I get home, I’ll have many days of catch-up. Catching up on family time, sleep, emails, laundry, all the revisions I wanted to work on while on the road. So blogging may continue to be sparse.

So I’m grabbing this moment to share a little about the tour.

God was present.

We had some convocations with hundreds of students and teachers and parents. We had some bookstore signings with huge turn-out, where I was chatting with people and signing non-stop. And we had other events with tiny groups and various unexpected challenges.

But each place, I met at least one person who had been a long-distance friend, or met a reader who had been blessed by one of my books, or heard stories of people’s lives and was able to pray with them. Those encounters were a joy.

I also got to hear seven other amazing Christian authors share about their journey, their faith, their passion for the written word, and see their travel-weary silliness–a blessing that will live with me during my next year of solitary writing work.

I also have to share that I experienced a true, gentle miracle. The first couple days, I was so sick that friends and team-mates were giving me the option to fly home. I remember one teammate kindly saying, “no guilt. no one will think less of you.” I knew I should be home. Yet I still felt that God wanted me on the tour and determined to try to make it one more day. And then one more.

I believe it was Portland where I hit my lowest physically and emotionally, and didn’t know how to go on. I knew my friends at home were praying for my strength. I had prayed over and over for healing and grace for the work. Then one of the tour mates offered to pray with me and BOY HOWDY did he pray.

I dried my eyes, and got back in the van for the next drive, the next event…
no woosh of sudden peace or healing…
BUT over the course of the next few days I had more stretches of feeling “like me.” I was getting LESS rest, working more and more, but God was strengthening me.

Friday night, we spoke at Calvary Chapel in Huntington Beach – and I got to share about the way God’s strength is made perfect in our weakness. And my devotion had new resonance. I SO longed to go out in strength on this tour, sharing with energy and enthusiasm, engaging people, encouraging and speaking with lively faith. Instead God called me to go out in weakness and lean into Him. I confess I was often weak and whiney, fearful and frustrated.

Isn’t it amazing that we serve a God who can use us even like that? And I continue to pray for His transforming power to reshape me. It’s just a LOOOOOOONG process.

I’ll try to blog about some of the highlights of the tour soon!
You can see video clips at www.fantasyfictiontour.com
Blessed Sunday!
Sharon Hinck

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