Showing posts with label Never Gone. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Never Gone. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 23



Tell us a little about yourself and your writing. 

I grew up in north central Pennsylvania not far from The Office territory. To fend off crushing boredom, I joined every arty thing: band, choir, art club, school newspaper, and speech and drama. I often scribbled stories during class when my teachers thought I was taking copious notes. (As the youngest of five children, I have a bit of a mischievous streak.)

As an undergrad, I majored in English with a communications minor (lots of theatre classes) and studied abroad in the UK.  I went on to earn a master’s in journalism while working full time as an editor in Philadelphia. I have 30+ years’ experience in trade, association, and academic publishing.

During my post-college years, I gravitated toward poetry and put much of my creative energy there. (My poetry collection, Muddy-fingered Midnights, includes some early work as well as many new pieces). From 1995-2000, I was editor and publisher of a Christian literary magazine, About Such Things. Through it, I got to know the philosophy PhD student who became my husband. Our daughter was born in 2002.

I grew restless as a stay-at-home mom, and a friend urged me to pick up writing again. Something inside me lit up when I unearthed character sketches for Danielle Deane, a grieving teen I’d first imagined while on a walk in 1992. I’d heard her voice tell me about her difficult relationship with her mother since her dad had died, and her struggles to hang onto her faith when her church-going parent had been snatched away and she was stuck with the atheist. I’d lost my own father to renal failure a few years before this, and it felt like the time had arrived to work through that loss. There was enough difference between Dani’s circumstances and mine to help me have creative distance, yet emotional truth.

It took six years of writing and revision, research trips to NYC and England, and critiques from three writing groups to get Never Gone into its final form.

Why did you write this book?

I wanted to explore how loss and grief are handled well–and poorly–in Christianity. People of faith can at times have an unhealthy stoicism about death. By emphasizing heavenly rewards for the departed, they can make the bereaved feel as if they’re spiritually deficient for having emotions like sadness, anger and loneliness. But when someone isn’t given space to fully grieve, the emotions will come out sideways and be far more damaging. Yet the story also has positive counter-examples of folks who comfort and support well because they understand the church as a body: “when one part suffers, every part suffers with it” (I Cor. 12:26). I wanted to encourage teens not to settle for platitudes when it comes to hard questions like “where is God when we suffer?” but to really engage deeply.

Writing this story was also a way to indirectly work through my grief after I lost my dad in 2003, but under very different circumstances.

How did you get your ideas for Never Gone? What inspired you? 

The idea of parental haunting is pretty old. Shakespeare uses it in Hamlet, for example. I also was inspired by the TV show Providence that aired from 1999-2002, in which a young woman moves home after her mother’s death, and often has long heart-to-heart talks and arguments with her mother’s ghost. The idea of a parental presence lingering to help a child fascinated me, especially when it’s unclear why it’s happening (is it supernatural or psychological?).

After losing my own father, I began reading about grief experiences and how varied and confusing they can be, especially for kids. I got thinking about other circumstances that might make grieving more of a pressure cooker – like being left with the parent you’re alienated from, having a family culture that frowns on expressing negative emotions, and coming from a faith tradition that tends to emphasize the joys the departed gains in the afterlife. The question of “how do I cope without my loved one?” will be more urgently felt in circumstances like that. The psychology of father-daughter relationships inspired me quite a bit too.

Clearly everything I read and experience is fodder for fiction. Putting research time into areas that naturally raise my curiosity has led me to be a bit more fearless about story situations I’m willing to tackle.

Why is religion so prevalent in Never Gone?

Spiritual questions about the nature of life and of a higher power naturally come up when a person is grieving. To remove religious thinking on the topic seems to me inauthentic.

My approach was simply to write a character for whom faith is a natural part of life. It’s Dani’s framework for understanding the world, just like her artistic ability is. The imagery and stories of her faith weave through her thought world as much as the language of painting and drawing. Like any teen raised in a Christian home, she goes through a coming-of-age process in which she has to decide if she truly believes for herself, rather than believing in her parent’s belief.

Most centrally, Never Gone is a dramatic story, not a handbook or a “how to grieve well” manual. Readers walk with Dani through sadness, longing, first love, turmoil, broken relationships, confusion and doubt. The adults in her world sometimes help, sometimes fail her badly. She has to come to grips with what is really real, with who God is, and with how she must grow and change in order to become her best self.

Combining ghosts and God is pretty unusual. Why bring those things together?

Generally, ghost lore in our culture is associated with bad deaths, with unfinished business. The question for me is whose unfinished business? The departed’s or the survivors’?

My protagonist, Danielle, is a fairly grounded Christian who knows enough “proof texts” to shut down her own natural emotions in the wake of a devastating loss. Her dad is bound for a happy eternity in heaven, she reasons, so she’s really not supposed to be upset.

This kind of warped stoicism that sometimes arises in my faith tradition concerns me. It’s bad theology to my mind, giving a false view of who God is and how he relates to humanity. In the face of it, a really hurting person can suffer some pretty deep internal fracturing. My story’s ghost is in some ways a manifestation of that inner state. 

Why is the opening of Never Gone set in New York City?

Most of my story decisions develop out of the characters, rather than the other way around. As I got to know Dani’s parents, it became clear that no other place would work for them. Grace is a driven advertising executive, and though there are some great, creative ad agencies in Philly, she isn’t the sort of person who would settle for working outside Madison Avenue.  Making a living as a professional photographer—which is Graham’s career—requires proximity to the most potential purchasers of this kind of service, like ad agencies. 

How much are your New York locations real, and how much a fabrication?

I did five research trips to New York to go to each of the locations I describe, including the terminal where British Airways flights disembark. 

Dani’s homes in Park Slope Brooklyn and the Upper West Side are based on real buildings.  In fact, I was able to find real estate listings for her UWS high rise at the corner of 93rd and Columbus, including floor plans, which I adapted slightly.

Dani’s school is a fabrication based roughly on a private school two blocks from her apartment (I place Rexford 14 blocks away, in the West 70s). Her church is riff on All Angels in the Upper West Side, mixed with St. Mark’s Philadelphia and a few Anglican/Episcopal churches I’ve visited in the US and Britain.

I think it’s important to make fabricated settings realistic by basing them on real places. A private school with extensive grounds is not going to exist in the Upper West Side—land is too valuable. And high rise apartment buildings vary in terms of how luxurious they are, even within the same block.

Much of Never Gone takes place in a rural British village called Ashmede. How did you choose the location? How real are your British settings?

Dani needed to spend time in her father’s hometown, in part to challenge her strong identification with him. As much as she allies herself with her dad, she’s American and a city kid through and through. Thus her father Graham needed to come from the country. 

I’d originally planned to use the Cotswolds where I studied for semester in college. Family friends invited us to stay with them in Durham in 2006, and I fell in love with the place. I did a ton of research during that trip. There is no real Ashmede. It’s an amalgam of some towns I visited during my 2006 trip and a place I stayed in North Yorkshire during spring break when I was a student. 

Durham Cathedral is of course real and I urge anyone who visits England to make the trip to see it. It’s a bit off the usual tourist route, but absolutely worth it. 

Kings Cross Station is where all the northbound trains leave London, so that worked nicely on a couple of levels, including Dani’s love of Harry Potter.


Just the FAQs, ma'am: Frequently asked questions about Never Gone

Tuesday, June 23, 2026 Laurel Garver



Tell us a little about yourself and your writing. 

I grew up in north central Pennsylvania not far from The Office territory. To fend off crushing boredom, I joined every arty thing: band, choir, art club, school newspaper, and speech and drama. I often scribbled stories during class when my teachers thought I was taking copious notes. (As the youngest of five children, I have a bit of a mischievous streak.)

As an undergrad, I majored in English with a communications minor (lots of theatre classes) and studied abroad in the UK.  I went on to earn a master’s in journalism while working full time as an editor in Philadelphia. I have 30+ years’ experience in trade, association, and academic publishing.

During my post-college years, I gravitated toward poetry and put much of my creative energy there. (My poetry collection, Muddy-fingered Midnights, includes some early work as well as many new pieces). From 1995-2000, I was editor and publisher of a Christian literary magazine, About Such Things. Through it, I got to know the philosophy PhD student who became my husband. Our daughter was born in 2002.

I grew restless as a stay-at-home mom, and a friend urged me to pick up writing again. Something inside me lit up when I unearthed character sketches for Danielle Deane, a grieving teen I’d first imagined while on a walk in 1992. I’d heard her voice tell me about her difficult relationship with her mother since her dad had died, and her struggles to hang onto her faith when her church-going parent had been snatched away and she was stuck with the atheist. I’d lost my own father to renal failure a few years before this, and it felt like the time had arrived to work through that loss. There was enough difference between Dani’s circumstances and mine to help me have creative distance, yet emotional truth.

It took six years of writing and revision, research trips to NYC and England, and critiques from three writing groups to get Never Gone into its final form.

Why did you write this book?

I wanted to explore how loss and grief are handled well–and poorly–in Christianity. People of faith can at times have an unhealthy stoicism about death. By emphasizing heavenly rewards for the departed, they can make the bereaved feel as if they’re spiritually deficient for having emotions like sadness, anger and loneliness. But when someone isn’t given space to fully grieve, the emotions will come out sideways and be far more damaging. Yet the story also has positive counter-examples of folks who comfort and support well because they understand the church as a body: “when one part suffers, every part suffers with it” (I Cor. 12:26). I wanted to encourage teens not to settle for platitudes when it comes to hard questions like “where is God when we suffer?” but to really engage deeply.

Writing this story was also a way to indirectly work through my grief after I lost my dad in 2003, but under very different circumstances.

How did you get your ideas for Never Gone? What inspired you? 

The idea of parental haunting is pretty old. Shakespeare uses it in Hamlet, for example. I also was inspired by the TV show Providence that aired from 1999-2002, in which a young woman moves home after her mother’s death, and often has long heart-to-heart talks and arguments with her mother’s ghost. The idea of a parental presence lingering to help a child fascinated me, especially when it’s unclear why it’s happening (is it supernatural or psychological?).

After losing my own father, I began reading about grief experiences and how varied and confusing they can be, especially for kids. I got thinking about other circumstances that might make grieving more of a pressure cooker – like being left with the parent you’re alienated from, having a family culture that frowns on expressing negative emotions, and coming from a faith tradition that tends to emphasize the joys the departed gains in the afterlife. The question of “how do I cope without my loved one?” will be more urgently felt in circumstances like that. The psychology of father-daughter relationships inspired me quite a bit too.

Clearly everything I read and experience is fodder for fiction. Putting research time into areas that naturally raise my curiosity has led me to be a bit more fearless about story situations I’m willing to tackle.

Why is religion so prevalent in Never Gone?

Spiritual questions about the nature of life and of a higher power naturally come up when a person is grieving. To remove religious thinking on the topic seems to me inauthentic.

My approach was simply to write a character for whom faith is a natural part of life. It’s Dani’s framework for understanding the world, just like her artistic ability is. The imagery and stories of her faith weave through her thought world as much as the language of painting and drawing. Like any teen raised in a Christian home, she goes through a coming-of-age process in which she has to decide if she truly believes for herself, rather than believing in her parent’s belief.

Most centrally, Never Gone is a dramatic story, not a handbook or a “how to grieve well” manual. Readers walk with Dani through sadness, longing, first love, turmoil, broken relationships, confusion and doubt. The adults in her world sometimes help, sometimes fail her badly. She has to come to grips with what is really real, with who God is, and with how she must grow and change in order to become her best self.

Combining ghosts and God is pretty unusual. Why bring those things together?

Generally, ghost lore in our culture is associated with bad deaths, with unfinished business. The question for me is whose unfinished business? The departed’s or the survivors’?

My protagonist, Danielle, is a fairly grounded Christian who knows enough “proof texts” to shut down her own natural emotions in the wake of a devastating loss. Her dad is bound for a happy eternity in heaven, she reasons, so she’s really not supposed to be upset.

This kind of warped stoicism that sometimes arises in my faith tradition concerns me. It’s bad theology to my mind, giving a false view of who God is and how he relates to humanity. In the face of it, a really hurting person can suffer some pretty deep internal fracturing. My story’s ghost is in some ways a manifestation of that inner state. 

Why is the opening of Never Gone set in New York City?

Most of my story decisions develop out of the characters, rather than the other way around. As I got to know Dani’s parents, it became clear that no other place would work for them. Grace is a driven advertising executive, and though there are some great, creative ad agencies in Philly, she isn’t the sort of person who would settle for working outside Madison Avenue.  Making a living as a professional photographer—which is Graham’s career—requires proximity to the most potential purchasers of this kind of service, like ad agencies. 

How much are your New York locations real, and how much a fabrication?

I did five research trips to New York to go to each of the locations I describe, including the terminal where British Airways flights disembark. 

Dani’s homes in Park Slope Brooklyn and the Upper West Side are based on real buildings.  In fact, I was able to find real estate listings for her UWS high rise at the corner of 93rd and Columbus, including floor plans, which I adapted slightly.

Dani’s school is a fabrication based roughly on a private school two blocks from her apartment (I place Rexford 14 blocks away, in the West 70s). Her church is riff on All Angels in the Upper West Side, mixed with St. Mark’s Philadelphia and a few Anglican/Episcopal churches I’ve visited in the US and Britain.

I think it’s important to make fabricated settings realistic by basing them on real places. A private school with extensive grounds is not going to exist in the Upper West Side—land is too valuable. And high rise apartment buildings vary in terms of how luxurious they are, even within the same block.

Much of Never Gone takes place in a rural British village called Ashmede. How did you choose the location? How real are your British settings?

Dani needed to spend time in her father’s hometown, in part to challenge her strong identification with him. As much as she allies herself with her dad, she’s American and a city kid through and through. Thus her father Graham needed to come from the country. 

I’d originally planned to use the Cotswolds where I studied for semester in college. Family friends invited us to stay with them in Durham in 2006, and I fell in love with the place. I did a ton of research during that trip. There is no real Ashmede. It’s an amalgam of some towns I visited during my 2006 trip and a place I stayed in North Yorkshire during spring break when I was a student. 

Durham Cathedral is of course real and I urge anyone who visits England to make the trip to see it. It’s a bit off the usual tourist route, but absolutely worth it. 

Kings Cross Station is where all the northbound trains leave London, so that worked nicely on a couple of levels, including Dani’s love of Harry Potter.


Thursday, March 9

Image by Charmaine Swart for morguefile
One of the most helpful things in researching Never Gone was attending a seminar on grief. The keynote speaker, Dr. Diane Langberg, discussed how grieving isn’t a linear process and it’s highly individual. The famous Kubler-Ross “phases of grief,” are often misinterpreted as a road map. Dr. Langberg said it’s helpful to re-label those “phases” as “faces.”

 Any bereaved person, whether terminally ill (the focus of Kubler-Ross’s work) or facing a job loss, divorce or death of a loved one, will cycle through denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance at various times. Some steps may be skipped, some lingered over for extended periods. When grieving a death, the nature of that death will color the grief process. For example, in the case of a prolonged illness, some grieving happens prior to the death.

 I was particularly interested in exploring the immediate grief experience — those turbulent first weeks immediately after a death. Most grief fiction tends to enter the experience later and cover a longer time period than I do in Never Gone. My novel begins a few days after the protagonist loses her dad and the story covers approximately three weeks’ time. Danielle spends much of the story cycling through denial, anger, and bargaining. There are moments of depression and glimpses of what acceptance will look like when it fully flowers. Most of the deepest grief work is still to come for Dani, but the events of the novel prepare her to begin to earnestly do that work, rather than deny or flee from it.

Dani especially struggles with feelings of anger, in part because of her family history and culture, in part because she mistakenly believes that anger has no place in a life of faith. I hope this story will encourage kids growing up in a faith tradition that it’s okay to really wrestle with God in places of deep pain. One of Dani’s friends tells her, “I think God can handle it when we’re mad.” He goes on to point out that large chunks of scripture are at root complaints to God. The Psalmist and other saints of old give us models for talking (and hollering and crying) to our Creator honestly about our pain, which at root is an expression of faith that He hears, cares, comforts and makes things new.

(This post was originally written for the Rabble Writers blog, which has been suspended.)

Have your own experiences of grief borne out the idea that healing is not a linear process? What are the best stories you've read that involve a grieving character?

Grief faces, not phases

Thursday, March 09, 2017 Laurel Garver
Image by Charmaine Swart for morguefile
One of the most helpful things in researching Never Gone was attending a seminar on grief. The keynote speaker, Dr. Diane Langberg, discussed how grieving isn’t a linear process and it’s highly individual. The famous Kubler-Ross “phases of grief,” are often misinterpreted as a road map. Dr. Langberg said it’s helpful to re-label those “phases” as “faces.”

 Any bereaved person, whether terminally ill (the focus of Kubler-Ross’s work) or facing a job loss, divorce or death of a loved one, will cycle through denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance at various times. Some steps may be skipped, some lingered over for extended periods. When grieving a death, the nature of that death will color the grief process. For example, in the case of a prolonged illness, some grieving happens prior to the death.

 I was particularly interested in exploring the immediate grief experience — those turbulent first weeks immediately after a death. Most grief fiction tends to enter the experience later and cover a longer time period than I do in Never Gone. My novel begins a few days after the protagonist loses her dad and the story covers approximately three weeks’ time. Danielle spends much of the story cycling through denial, anger, and bargaining. There are moments of depression and glimpses of what acceptance will look like when it fully flowers. Most of the deepest grief work is still to come for Dani, but the events of the novel prepare her to begin to earnestly do that work, rather than deny or flee from it.

Dani especially struggles with feelings of anger, in part because of her family history and culture, in part because she mistakenly believes that anger has no place in a life of faith. I hope this story will encourage kids growing up in a faith tradition that it’s okay to really wrestle with God in places of deep pain. One of Dani’s friends tells her, “I think God can handle it when we’re mad.” He goes on to point out that large chunks of scripture are at root complaints to God. The Psalmist and other saints of old give us models for talking (and hollering and crying) to our Creator honestly about our pain, which at root is an expression of faith that He hears, cares, comforts and makes things new.

(This post was originally written for the Rabble Writers blog, which has been suspended.)

Have your own experiences of grief borne out the idea that healing is not a linear process? What are the best stories you've read that involve a grieving character?

Thursday, July 21

"A grieving teen believes her dead father is haunting her" --a tagline for my debut Never Gone, often raises this question: how could this topic possibly be Christian fiction?

Photo by http://morguefile.com/creative/whiterussian
What exactly is a ghost, after all? Do people have a consciousness separate from their bodily existence? If so, can it interact with embodied people? Can it do so when it wishes, or must it be summoned by the living? Is this entire mythos something created to explain demonic presences in our world?

In some circles, this latter view tends to dominate, though the Bible actually shows us an intermediate view: there is a consciousness separate from bodily existence, but it can only interact with embodied people through occult means because it exists in another realm or plane. See the story of Saul contacting Samuel's ghost via the mediation of the Witch of Endor in I Samuel 28. Trying to summon the dead is a bad idea, one that spells the end for Saul's reign.

In Never Gone, my protagonist Danielle has moments where she specifically fears she might have summoned her dead father, knowing that doing such a thing is very dangerous. But longing for a lost loved one does not make one a medium. Reaching across the divide between the living and dead isn't something people can do accidentally.

So what is going on with my ghost of Dani's dad, Graham Rhys Deane?

The idea of parental haunting is pretty old. Shakespeare uses it in Hamlet, for example. I also was inspired by the TV show Providence that aired from 1999-2002, in which a young woman moves home after her mother’s death, and often has long heart-to-heart talks and arguments with her mother’s ghost. The idea of a parental presence lingering to help a child fascinated me, especially when it’s unclear why it’s happening.

Is it possible that not every ghost appearance has a supernatural cause?

Generally, ghost lore in our culture is associated with bad deaths, with unfinished business. The question for me is whose unfinished business? The departed’s or the survivors’?

Dani is a fairly grounded Christian who knows enough “proof texts” (scripture quotes used to prove a particular point) to shut down her own natural emotions in the wake of a devastating loss. Her dad is bound for a happy eternity in heaven, she reasons, so she’s really not supposed to be upset.

This kind of warped stoicism that sometimes arises in my faith tradition concerns me. It’s bad theology to my mind, giving a false view of who God is and how he relates to humanity. In the face of it, a really hurting person can suffer deep internal fracturing. My story’s ghost is in some ways a manifestation of that inner state.

So how does Danielle cope with her ghost problem? I invite you to check out Never Gone to find out!

About Never Gone

Teen artist Dani Deane feels like the universe has imploded when her photographer father is killed. Days after his death, she sees him leafing through sketches in her room, roaming the halls at church, wandering his own wake. Is grief making her crazy? Or is her dad truly adrift between this world and the next, trying to contact her?

Dani longs for his help as she tries and fails to connect with her workaholic mother. Her pain only deepens when astonishing secrets about her family history come to light. But Dani finds a surprising ally in Theo, the quiet guy lingering in the backstage of her life. He persistently reaches out as Dani’s faith falters, her family relationships unravel, and she withdraws into a dangerous obsession with her father’s ghostly appearances. Will she let her broken, prodigal heart find a reason to hope again?

From the skyscrapers of New York to the sheep-dotted English countryside, Never Gone explores life after loss with emotional honesty, humor, and a touch of romance. 



View the trailer HERE

What is your take on the ghost trope?

Grief, ghosts, and...God?

Thursday, July 21, 2016 Laurel Garver
"A grieving teen believes her dead father is haunting her" --a tagline for my debut Never Gone, often raises this question: how could this topic possibly be Christian fiction?

Photo by http://morguefile.com/creative/whiterussian
What exactly is a ghost, after all? Do people have a consciousness separate from their bodily existence? If so, can it interact with embodied people? Can it do so when it wishes, or must it be summoned by the living? Is this entire mythos something created to explain demonic presences in our world?

In some circles, this latter view tends to dominate, though the Bible actually shows us an intermediate view: there is a consciousness separate from bodily existence, but it can only interact with embodied people through occult means because it exists in another realm or plane. See the story of Saul contacting Samuel's ghost via the mediation of the Witch of Endor in I Samuel 28. Trying to summon the dead is a bad idea, one that spells the end for Saul's reign.

In Never Gone, my protagonist Danielle has moments where she specifically fears she might have summoned her dead father, knowing that doing such a thing is very dangerous. But longing for a lost loved one does not make one a medium. Reaching across the divide between the living and dead isn't something people can do accidentally.

So what is going on with my ghost of Dani's dad, Graham Rhys Deane?

The idea of parental haunting is pretty old. Shakespeare uses it in Hamlet, for example. I also was inspired by the TV show Providence that aired from 1999-2002, in which a young woman moves home after her mother’s death, and often has long heart-to-heart talks and arguments with her mother’s ghost. The idea of a parental presence lingering to help a child fascinated me, especially when it’s unclear why it’s happening.

Is it possible that not every ghost appearance has a supernatural cause?

Generally, ghost lore in our culture is associated with bad deaths, with unfinished business. The question for me is whose unfinished business? The departed’s or the survivors’?

Dani is a fairly grounded Christian who knows enough “proof texts” (scripture quotes used to prove a particular point) to shut down her own natural emotions in the wake of a devastating loss. Her dad is bound for a happy eternity in heaven, she reasons, so she’s really not supposed to be upset.

This kind of warped stoicism that sometimes arises in my faith tradition concerns me. It’s bad theology to my mind, giving a false view of who God is and how he relates to humanity. In the face of it, a really hurting person can suffer deep internal fracturing. My story’s ghost is in some ways a manifestation of that inner state.

So how does Danielle cope with her ghost problem? I invite you to check out Never Gone to find out!

About Never Gone

Teen artist Dani Deane feels like the universe has imploded when her photographer father is killed. Days after his death, she sees him leafing through sketches in her room, roaming the halls at church, wandering his own wake. Is grief making her crazy? Or is her dad truly adrift between this world and the next, trying to contact her?

Dani longs for his help as she tries and fails to connect with her workaholic mother. Her pain only deepens when astonishing secrets about her family history come to light. But Dani finds a surprising ally in Theo, the quiet guy lingering in the backstage of her life. He persistently reaches out as Dani’s faith falters, her family relationships unravel, and she withdraws into a dangerous obsession with her father’s ghostly appearances. Will she let her broken, prodigal heart find a reason to hope again?

From the skyscrapers of New York to the sheep-dotted English countryside, Never Gone explores life after loss with emotional honesty, humor, and a touch of romance. 



View the trailer HERE

What is your take on the ghost trope?

Friday, October 18

Never Gone has a new cover!
Additionally, the paperback interior has been redesigned and includes an interior illustration (which I hope will be viewable on Amazon soon.)




Dani’s dad can’t play peacemaker when he’s dead. Can he?

 After her supportive father dies tragically, Dani has no clue how to cope alone with her perfectionist mother. 

 Then she sees him: in her room, roaming the halls at church, wandering his own wake. Is it a miracle? Or is she losing her mind? 

 Sunday school never prepared her for this kind of life after death.


Read an excerpt.
Add it on Goodreads
Purchase the e-book at Amazon.com, Amazon UK, Barnes and Noble, Kobo, Smashwords, iTunes
Purchase the paperback at CreateSpace, Amazon, The Book Depository

To celebrate, I'm hosting a giveaway.
Use the form below to enter

a Rafflecopter giveaway

It's here!

Friday, October 18, 2013 Laurel Garver
Never Gone has a new cover!
Additionally, the paperback interior has been redesigned and includes an interior illustration (which I hope will be viewable on Amazon soon.)




Dani’s dad can’t play peacemaker when he’s dead. Can he?

 After her supportive father dies tragically, Dani has no clue how to cope alone with her perfectionist mother. 

 Then she sees him: in her room, roaming the halls at church, wandering his own wake. Is it a miracle? Or is she losing her mind? 

 Sunday school never prepared her for this kind of life after death.


Read an excerpt.
Add it on Goodreads
Purchase the e-book at Amazon.com, Amazon UK, Barnes and Noble, Kobo, Smashwords, iTunes
Purchase the paperback at CreateSpace, Amazon, The Book Depository

To celebrate, I'm hosting a giveaway.
Use the form below to enter

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Saturday, June 8

I'm the featured guest today for Tina's Book Reviews's Saturday Spotlight. I talk about how the ideas of grief, ghosts and God came together in my novel. There's also an Amazon giftcard giveaway going on through July 1. Please swing on by to say hello!

 Have any of your stories taken years to gel? Do you revisit trunked projects?

Inspirations...and a giveaway

Saturday, June 08, 2013 Laurel Garver
I'm the featured guest today for Tina's Book Reviews's Saturday Spotlight. I talk about how the ideas of grief, ghosts and God came together in my novel. There's also an Amazon giftcard giveaway going on through July 1. Please swing on by to say hello!

 Have any of your stories taken years to gel? Do you revisit trunked projects?

Friday, March 1

Welcome! 

 This page is a compilation of all my guest appearances around the Internet. Learn more about my fiction, poetry and writing tips.

 Contact
To request an interview, guest post, or a copy of my work for review, e-mail me at
laurels (dot) leaves (at) gmail (dot) com

Never Gone 

Articles

Exploring father-daughter relationships: Why Dads Matter

From high rises to cathedrals--setting a story in NYC and rural England: How I develop setting

Writing realistic romance: Repulsion, Attraction, Connection: Romance is more than "hotness"

Writing a character for whom faith is a natural part of life: The truth about...writing faith

How I use poetic techniques in my fiction to make it more musical: Make your stories sing

How I wrote Never Gone: inspirations and themes--Grief, ghosts and God

Advice on writing bereaved characters: Grief faces, not phases

Advice on developing distinct character voices: Elements of Voice

Learning to embrace a messy creative process: The two-faced life of a writing editor

Laurel's favorite book from childhood: Stories of our youth: empathy and transformation

On writing stories when you're mature enough to do them justice: Let It Simmer

Why community matters in Never Gone, and for me as a writer: The importance of community and support

Tips and tricks learned while creating the book trailer for Never Gone: Eleven book trailer tips

Interviews

Edgy and clean? Writing across genre divides
"KA: You call Never Gone’s genre 'YA edgy inspirational.' What does that mean?
LG: It means Christian in outlook, but with mature, challenging situations. 'Edgy' here is not what mainstream publishers mean by the term — they’re generally talking content and language that would earn an R rating if it were a film. My story is 'edgy' compared to other books in the Christian book market."
More here: interview with Karen Akins

 Why I wrote Never Gone: tackling the question of "where is God when we suffer?"
"I wanted to explore how loss and grief are handled well – and poorly – in Christianity. People of faith can at times have an unhealthy stoicism about death.... But when someone isn’t given space to fully grieve, the emotions will come out sideways and be far more damaging."
More here: interview with Carmen Ferrerio Esteban

 In loving memory: How autobiographical is Never Gone?
"I also knew if I tried to write directly about my experience [losing a parent], I’d have trouble keeping the emotional distance I needed to really shape the story and not err toward clinical detachment or maudlin sentiment. In that way, fiction can be more truth-revealing than 'true' stories."
More here: interview with Angela Felsted

Why ghosts and God?
"The idea of a parental presence lingering to help a child fascinated me, especially when it’s unclear why it’s happening (is it supernatural or psychological?)."
More here: interview with Mary Aalgaard

Teen grief and "third culture kids"
"Dani struggles with expressing her deepest feelings, suppressing and self-managing more than the typical American teen might.... Losing her British father requires Dani to reassess how she fits in the world, and how to reconcile with her American half."
More here: interview with Margo Berendsen

 Let Setting Emerge From Character
"I wanted the time that Dani spent in her late father’s hometown to challenge her strong identification with him. The setting had to be a big contrast from her very American, very urban home, so her dad is not only foreign, but rural."
More here: interview with Melissa Sarno

 Style, roadblocks and growing as a writer
"I strive to use language in a way that’s musical like a movie soundtrack, undergirding the emotion and action. In tender moments, expansive and flowing; in tense moments, terse and staccato. Beautiful doesn’t have to mean slow paced."
More here: interview with Kayla Black

Teen experiences 
"Like the busy teens I know in real life, Dani juggles many things that compete for her time: school work, extracirriculars, friendships, romance, family, and her own spiritual health. But most of all, she faces a moment when she has to grasp her own faith rather than lean on her devout dad’s faith--a moment every teen raised in a Christian home will face at some point."
More here: interview with Tessa Emily Hall

Writing life, projects and favorite resources
"Talk to real people when researching any aspect of your story. It not only gains you insider perspective, but also can stimulate your thinking and help generate stronger plots and characters far more than static library and Internet research can."
More here: interview at New Zeland blog YAlicious

Inspirations and comparison titles
"BK:Which books are your book’s 'cousin' (Similar set-up or style)?
LG: The Truth About Forever by Sarah Dessen, The Sky is Everywhere by Jandy Nelson, and Once Was Lost by Sara Zarr."
More here: interview with Brandi Kosiner

Reviews

"I couldn't put this one down": a review

"The perfect fall-into-winter book": a review

"Journey across the world and into the depths of her soul": a review

"A story of redemption, of hope in the face of intense sorrow, and of great personal growth, Never Gone is a touching read." review from A Word's Worth

"Laurel Garver approached the hard issues of grief, doubt, and fear with an honesty I have never read.... Even with the tough subjects in this novel it is a very hopeful book.  I recommend this novel to young adults and not so young adult readers." review from A Novel Review

"This book is full of twists and turns, of love and forgiveness, and of faith and clarity. This story is beautiful and inspirational and can reassure someone in pain that things will get better....a great read." review from O.D Book Reviews

"I found it to be a very well written story about how a fifteen year old feels the loss of her father, written with a very realistic feel.... The author weaves a serious story, but instead of it feeling sad, it was a story of new beginnings, friendships, faith and family." review from WV Stitcher

More to come!

Muddy-Fingered Midnights


Interview with Crystal Collier
featurette and e-book giveaway with Deniz Bevan
"Skills + soul = my publishing journey"; guest post for Michelle Davidson Argyle
"Make words your playground"; guest post for Connie Keller
Interview with Anne Gallagher
"Writing through Fear"; guest post for Jennifer R. Hubbard
"Stories that sing: poems with a plot": guest post for Caroline Starr Rose
"Save Your Life, a patchwork approach": guest post for Jessica Bell
"Why read poetry?" guest post for Tyrean Martinson

Interviews & articles

Friday, March 01, 2013 Laurel Garver
Welcome! 

 This page is a compilation of all my guest appearances around the Internet. Learn more about my fiction, poetry and writing tips.

 Contact
To request an interview, guest post, or a copy of my work for review, e-mail me at
laurels (dot) leaves (at) gmail (dot) com

Never Gone 

Articles

Exploring father-daughter relationships: Why Dads Matter

From high rises to cathedrals--setting a story in NYC and rural England: How I develop setting

Writing realistic romance: Repulsion, Attraction, Connection: Romance is more than "hotness"

Writing a character for whom faith is a natural part of life: The truth about...writing faith

How I use poetic techniques in my fiction to make it more musical: Make your stories sing

How I wrote Never Gone: inspirations and themes--Grief, ghosts and God

Advice on writing bereaved characters: Grief faces, not phases

Advice on developing distinct character voices: Elements of Voice

Learning to embrace a messy creative process: The two-faced life of a writing editor

Laurel's favorite book from childhood: Stories of our youth: empathy and transformation

On writing stories when you're mature enough to do them justice: Let It Simmer

Why community matters in Never Gone, and for me as a writer: The importance of community and support

Tips and tricks learned while creating the book trailer for Never Gone: Eleven book trailer tips

Interviews

Edgy and clean? Writing across genre divides
"KA: You call Never Gone’s genre 'YA edgy inspirational.' What does that mean?
LG: It means Christian in outlook, but with mature, challenging situations. 'Edgy' here is not what mainstream publishers mean by the term — they’re generally talking content and language that would earn an R rating if it were a film. My story is 'edgy' compared to other books in the Christian book market."
More here: interview with Karen Akins

 Why I wrote Never Gone: tackling the question of "where is God when we suffer?"
"I wanted to explore how loss and grief are handled well – and poorly – in Christianity. People of faith can at times have an unhealthy stoicism about death.... But when someone isn’t given space to fully grieve, the emotions will come out sideways and be far more damaging."
More here: interview with Carmen Ferrerio Esteban

 In loving memory: How autobiographical is Never Gone?
"I also knew if I tried to write directly about my experience [losing a parent], I’d have trouble keeping the emotional distance I needed to really shape the story and not err toward clinical detachment or maudlin sentiment. In that way, fiction can be more truth-revealing than 'true' stories."
More here: interview with Angela Felsted

Why ghosts and God?
"The idea of a parental presence lingering to help a child fascinated me, especially when it’s unclear why it’s happening (is it supernatural or psychological?)."
More here: interview with Mary Aalgaard

Teen grief and "third culture kids"
"Dani struggles with expressing her deepest feelings, suppressing and self-managing more than the typical American teen might.... Losing her British father requires Dani to reassess how she fits in the world, and how to reconcile with her American half."
More here: interview with Margo Berendsen

 Let Setting Emerge From Character
"I wanted the time that Dani spent in her late father’s hometown to challenge her strong identification with him. The setting had to be a big contrast from her very American, very urban home, so her dad is not only foreign, but rural."
More here: interview with Melissa Sarno

 Style, roadblocks and growing as a writer
"I strive to use language in a way that’s musical like a movie soundtrack, undergirding the emotion and action. In tender moments, expansive and flowing; in tense moments, terse and staccato. Beautiful doesn’t have to mean slow paced."
More here: interview with Kayla Black

Teen experiences 
"Like the busy teens I know in real life, Dani juggles many things that compete for her time: school work, extracirriculars, friendships, romance, family, and her own spiritual health. But most of all, she faces a moment when she has to grasp her own faith rather than lean on her devout dad’s faith--a moment every teen raised in a Christian home will face at some point."
More here: interview with Tessa Emily Hall

Writing life, projects and favorite resources
"Talk to real people when researching any aspect of your story. It not only gains you insider perspective, but also can stimulate your thinking and help generate stronger plots and characters far more than static library and Internet research can."
More here: interview at New Zeland blog YAlicious

Inspirations and comparison titles
"BK:Which books are your book’s 'cousin' (Similar set-up or style)?
LG: The Truth About Forever by Sarah Dessen, The Sky is Everywhere by Jandy Nelson, and Once Was Lost by Sara Zarr."
More here: interview with Brandi Kosiner

Reviews

"I couldn't put this one down": a review

"The perfect fall-into-winter book": a review

"Journey across the world and into the depths of her soul": a review

"A story of redemption, of hope in the face of intense sorrow, and of great personal growth, Never Gone is a touching read." review from A Word's Worth

"Laurel Garver approached the hard issues of grief, doubt, and fear with an honesty I have never read.... Even with the tough subjects in this novel it is a very hopeful book.  I recommend this novel to young adults and not so young adult readers." review from A Novel Review

"This book is full of twists and turns, of love and forgiveness, and of faith and clarity. This story is beautiful and inspirational and can reassure someone in pain that things will get better....a great read." review from O.D Book Reviews

"I found it to be a very well written story about how a fifteen year old feels the loss of her father, written with a very realistic feel.... The author weaves a serious story, but instead of it feeling sad, it was a story of new beginnings, friendships, faith and family." review from WV Stitcher

More to come!

Muddy-Fingered Midnights


Interview with Crystal Collier
featurette and e-book giveaway with Deniz Bevan
"Skills + soul = my publishing journey"; guest post for Michelle Davidson Argyle
"Make words your playground"; guest post for Connie Keller
Interview with Anne Gallagher
"Writing through Fear"; guest post for Jennifer R. Hubbard
"Stories that sing: poems with a plot": guest post for Caroline Starr Rose
"Save Your Life, a patchwork approach": guest post for Jessica Bell
"Why read poetry?" guest post for Tyrean Martinson

Tuesday, February 12

I've been interviewed by book blogger Brandi Kosiner at the popular review blog Blkosiner's Book Blog.  Learn a bit about me, inspirations for my debut novel, as well as what other projects are in the pipeline.

Brandi is also hosting an ebook giveaway of Never Gone. Swing on by to enter!

Interview...and chance to win

Tuesday, February 12, 2013 Laurel Garver
I've been interviewed by book blogger Brandi Kosiner at the popular review blog Blkosiner's Book Blog.  Learn a bit about me, inspirations for my debut novel, as well as what other projects are in the pipeline.

Brandi is also hosting an ebook giveaway of Never Gone. Swing on by to enter!

Wednesday, October 17

moreguefile.com
Today I'm over at Tyrean Martinson's blog, discussing "Why dads matter." This is a helpful post for anyone who has read Never Gone and wondered why I put my character into some of the tough situations I do.

I told Tyrean, "I was especially interested in exploring the father-daughter dynamic because girls first learn how to relate to boys from interacting with their dads."

But what happens when that teacher and protector figure is no longer in your life?

Pop on over to read more.

How much does psychology inform your writing? Do you agree or disagree with my premise about a father's role in a teen daughter's life?

Why dads matter

Wednesday, October 17, 2012 Laurel Garver
moreguefile.com
Today I'm over at Tyrean Martinson's blog, discussing "Why dads matter." This is a helpful post for anyone who has read Never Gone and wondered why I put my character into some of the tough situations I do.

I told Tyrean, "I was especially interested in exploring the father-daughter dynamic because girls first learn how to relate to boys from interacting with their dads."

But what happens when that teacher and protector figure is no longer in your life?

Pop on over to read more.

How much does psychology inform your writing? Do you agree or disagree with my premise about a father's role in a teen daughter's life?

Friday, October 12

They lurk in your manuscript, undetected by spell check, ready to ruin your reputation. Worse, you might not know that these devils do not belong.

What are these twisted, little enemies? Homophones.

This term, from the Latin, means "sound-alikes," not to be confused (as I have in the past) with homonyms, literally "name-alikes." Homonyms are things like the noun "beat," which could mean rhythm, the area a police officer patrols, or the subject area a journalist investigates. Every use is spelled the same.

Homophones, on the other hand, are words that sound the same, but have different meanings AND different spellings. Spell check will not find them because they are legitimate words in their own right. Homophone errors can be some of the hardest to ferret out in your work, in part because you may not be aware of the other term.

Educating yourself is key. And I find that mnemonic devices can really help, too. Here are a few I've tackled so far:

bare and bear
rain, rein and reign 
phase and faze

A few I plan to consider in the coming weeks:
whose and who's, they're and their
than and then
jibe and jive
pore and pour

Ramble news
I've been out and about talking to wonderful bloggers about many aspects of my debut. Here's a recap:
"The perfect fall-into-winter book": a review
Repulsion, Attraction, Connection: Romance is more than "hotness"
In loving memory: how autobiographical is Never Gone? (and a review)
Eleven book trailer tips
Why did I write Never Gone? Tackling "where is God when we suffer?"
Stories of our youth: empathy and transformation
Inspirations, and Why ghosts and God?

Coming next week: I'll be talking to Lynn Simpson on Monday about writer support and to Tyrean Martinson on Wednesday about "Why Dads matter."

What are some homophones that trip you up? Which set would you like me to tackle first?

Homo-what?

Friday, October 12, 2012 Laurel Garver
They lurk in your manuscript, undetected by spell check, ready to ruin your reputation. Worse, you might not know that these devils do not belong.

What are these twisted, little enemies? Homophones.

This term, from the Latin, means "sound-alikes," not to be confused (as I have in the past) with homonyms, literally "name-alikes." Homonyms are things like the noun "beat," which could mean rhythm, the area a police officer patrols, or the subject area a journalist investigates. Every use is spelled the same.

Homophones, on the other hand, are words that sound the same, but have different meanings AND different spellings. Spell check will not find them because they are legitimate words in their own right. Homophone errors can be some of the hardest to ferret out in your work, in part because you may not be aware of the other term.

Educating yourself is key. And I find that mnemonic devices can really help, too. Here are a few I've tackled so far:

bare and bear
rain, rein and reign 
phase and faze

A few I plan to consider in the coming weeks:
whose and who's, they're and their
than and then
jibe and jive
pore and pour

Ramble news
I've been out and about talking to wonderful bloggers about many aspects of my debut. Here's a recap:
"The perfect fall-into-winter book": a review
Repulsion, Attraction, Connection: Romance is more than "hotness"
In loving memory: how autobiographical is Never Gone? (and a review)
Eleven book trailer tips
Why did I write Never Gone? Tackling "where is God when we suffer?"
Stories of our youth: empathy and transformation
Inspirations, and Why ghosts and God?

Coming next week: I'll be talking to Lynn Simpson on Monday about writer support and to Tyrean Martinson on Wednesday about "Why Dads matter."

What are some homophones that trip you up? Which set would you like me to tackle first?

Thursday, October 4

I'm over on Dare to Read today, blog of Carmen Ferreiro-Esteban, author of Two Moon Princess and Immortal Love, talking about why I wrote Never Gone, who I think the book would appeal to, the cover design and my publishing and marketing experiences and ideas.

Carmen bumped up the date from when I expected the interview to run, which opens a spot on my schedule next week Wednesday or Thursday. If you'd like a blogging break for a day on 10/10 or 10/11, let me know in the comments (with an e-mail address, please). I'd be happy to do a guest post on a topic of your choice, or an interview. (And if more than one of you volunteers, I also have slots in late November and early December.)

The ebook giveaway continues at PK Hrezo's blog. Easy entry--just give an e-mail address. Extra entries for tweeting and following me on Facebook and Twitter.

Tell me about what you're working on. Why are you working on this particular project? What ideas and themes drive your writing?

My Road to Publication

Thursday, October 04, 2012 Laurel Garver
I'm over on Dare to Read today, blog of Carmen Ferreiro-Esteban, author of Two Moon Princess and Immortal Love, talking about why I wrote Never Gone, who I think the book would appeal to, the cover design and my publishing and marketing experiences and ideas.

Carmen bumped up the date from when I expected the interview to run, which opens a spot on my schedule next week Wednesday or Thursday. If you'd like a blogging break for a day on 10/10 or 10/11, let me know in the comments (with an e-mail address, please). I'd be happy to do a guest post on a topic of your choice, or an interview. (And if more than one of you volunteers, I also have slots in late November and early December.)

The ebook giveaway continues at PK Hrezo's blog. Easy entry--just give an e-mail address. Extra entries for tweeting and following me on Facebook and Twitter.

Tell me about what you're working on. Why are you working on this particular project? What ideas and themes drive your writing?

Monday, October 1

Happy October, friends! It's a cool, crisp day here in Philadelphia and autumn is beginning to weave its magic. I picked up my favorite cool-weather treat over the weekend at a Celtic music festival: Ribena! It's a British juice concentrate made from black currants that's super delicious made with hot water.

You know what else is magical? The wonderful friendships I've made with other bloggers. Today my friend PK Hrezo is hosting a giveaway of my debut novel Never Gone on her blog. Pop on over HERE to check it out and enter!

And the lovely Leigh Moore posted a review of Never Gone on her blog. A highlight: "It is so good. The writing is gorgeous the story is haunting (literally!) and it ends just perfectly."

Tomorrow I'll be back to talk about Leigh's sparkling YA contemporary novel, The Truth About Faking. Leigh and I will be doing a blog swap on October 29, which I'm very excited about, talking about how we handled religious themes in our books.

Go forth! Enter PK's giveaway! Check out Leigh's review!

Do you love autumn as much as I do? Why or why not?

Chance to win!

Monday, October 01, 2012 Laurel Garver
Happy October, friends! It's a cool, crisp day here in Philadelphia and autumn is beginning to weave its magic. I picked up my favorite cool-weather treat over the weekend at a Celtic music festival: Ribena! It's a British juice concentrate made from black currants that's super delicious made with hot water.

You know what else is magical? The wonderful friendships I've made with other bloggers. Today my friend PK Hrezo is hosting a giveaway of my debut novel Never Gone on her blog. Pop on over HERE to check it out and enter!

And the lovely Leigh Moore posted a review of Never Gone on her blog. A highlight: "It is so good. The writing is gorgeous the story is haunting (literally!) and it ends just perfectly."

Tomorrow I'll be back to talk about Leigh's sparkling YA contemporary novel, The Truth About Faking. Leigh and I will be doing a blog swap on October 29, which I'm very excited about, talking about how we handled religious themes in our books.

Go forth! Enter PK's giveaway! Check out Leigh's review!

Do you love autumn as much as I do? Why or why not?

Thursday, September 27

Today is the official launch date for the paperback of Never Gone!

My blog ramble has also begun. The first two stops garnered some wonderful discussion. At Laura Pauling's blog, I discussed romance plots in "Repulsion, Attraction, Connection: Romance Is More than Hotness." Angela Felsted interviewed me, asking "How autobiographical is Never Gone?" Tomorrow I'll announce more upcoming stops on the ramble, including giveaways!

So what is this book I'm launching? Read on to learn more.


Days after her father’s death, fifteen-year-old Dani Deane begins seeing him all around New York — wading through discarded sketches in her room, roaming the halls at church, socializing at his post-funeral reception. Is grief making her crazy? Or could her dad really be lingering between this world and the next, trying to contact her?

Dani desperately longs for his help. Without him keeping the peace, Dani’s relationship with her mother is deteriorating fast. Soon Mum ships her off to rural England with Dad’s relatives for a visit that Dani fears will become a permanent stay. But she won’t let her arty, urban life slip away without a fight, especially when daily phone calls with her lab partner Theo become her lifeline.

To find her way home, Dani must somehow reconnect with Mum. But as she seeks advice from relatives and insights from old letters, she uncovers family secrets that shake her to the core. Convinced that Dad’s ghost alone can help her, she sets out on a dangerous journey to contact him one last time.


"Never Gone is a ghost story for a new generation – a twisty journey through a young girl's battle with death, grief, and the discovery of family secrets that threaten to undo her world. Garver tackles difficult subjects with depth and grace, weaving the complexities of faith with the complexities of growing up." --Heidi Willis, author of Some Kind of Normal



Add it on Goodreads. Like my author page on Facebook.
The e-book is available at Amazon.com, Amazon UK, Barnes and Noble, Kobo, Smashwords
The paperback is available at CreateSpace, Amazon

Share this post using the buttons and you will be automatically entered to win: 

your choice of
~ebook of of Never Gone
~ebook of The Emotion Thesaurus
~paperback of Poetry Pact vol. 1
~paperback of my favorite novel, The Wonder Worker by Susan Howatch

Let me know in the comments where you shared, on the off chance Blogger doesn't properly track the data. Thanks!

Launch Day for NEVER GONE!

Thursday, September 27, 2012 Laurel Garver
Today is the official launch date for the paperback of Never Gone!

My blog ramble has also begun. The first two stops garnered some wonderful discussion. At Laura Pauling's blog, I discussed romance plots in "Repulsion, Attraction, Connection: Romance Is More than Hotness." Angela Felsted interviewed me, asking "How autobiographical is Never Gone?" Tomorrow I'll announce more upcoming stops on the ramble, including giveaways!

So what is this book I'm launching? Read on to learn more.


Days after her father’s death, fifteen-year-old Dani Deane begins seeing him all around New York — wading through discarded sketches in her room, roaming the halls at church, socializing at his post-funeral reception. Is grief making her crazy? Or could her dad really be lingering between this world and the next, trying to contact her?

Dani desperately longs for his help. Without him keeping the peace, Dani’s relationship with her mother is deteriorating fast. Soon Mum ships her off to rural England with Dad’s relatives for a visit that Dani fears will become a permanent stay. But she won’t let her arty, urban life slip away without a fight, especially when daily phone calls with her lab partner Theo become her lifeline.

To find her way home, Dani must somehow reconnect with Mum. But as she seeks advice from relatives and insights from old letters, she uncovers family secrets that shake her to the core. Convinced that Dad’s ghost alone can help her, she sets out on a dangerous journey to contact him one last time.


"Never Gone is a ghost story for a new generation – a twisty journey through a young girl's battle with death, grief, and the discovery of family secrets that threaten to undo her world. Garver tackles difficult subjects with depth and grace, weaving the complexities of faith with the complexities of growing up." --Heidi Willis, author of Some Kind of Normal



Add it on Goodreads. Like my author page on Facebook.
The e-book is available at Amazon.com, Amazon UK, Barnes and Noble, Kobo, Smashwords
The paperback is available at CreateSpace, Amazon

Share this post using the buttons and you will be automatically entered to win: 

your choice of
~ebook of of Never Gone
~ebook of The Emotion Thesaurus
~paperback of Poetry Pact vol. 1
~paperback of my favorite novel, The Wonder Worker by Susan Howatch

Let me know in the comments where you shared, on the off chance Blogger doesn't properly track the data. Thanks!

Monday, September 24

I'm over at Laura Pauling's blog today, talking about "Attraction, Repulsion, Connection: Romance is More than Hotness" and a little about Never Gone's romantic subplot. It's my first blog ramble visit, so please come say hello. Or debate my viewpoint about what makes truly memorable romantic plots (hint: it's not great hair).

Meanwhile, I've signed up for a blog hop for the first time in, er... a pretty darned long time. And because of that I've lost some great opportunities to meet amazing people.

So when I heard about the Follow-Swap Blog Hop, I thought it seemed just the ticket. The purpose of the hop is simply to meet people, read a post they consider one of their best and make new connections. Click on the grid of smileys over in the sidebar for more information.

And if you're joining me from the hop and my link was wonky, I shared one of my "editor-on-call" posts about how to avoid shifting tenses. Yes, I have more recent helpful posts too. Click the "editor-on-call" label.   And thanks for visiting!

Do you even take a peek at your stats, just to see what posts resonate with readers? I quite surprised by the posts that get the most page views: my National Poetry Month spotlight on concrete poems, the photos of my hubby's Dr. Who snowflakes, my deep analyses of Neville Longbottom and Severus Snape, my explanation of why I struggle to write autobiographical work.

Old friends, which of my posts have you enjoyed most? The grammar/useage posts? The deep characterization posts? My analytical posts? My Harry Potter posts? Some other category? 

 New friends, what do you look for in blogs you follow?

Visiting and being visited

Monday, September 24, 2012 Laurel Garver
I'm over at Laura Pauling's blog today, talking about "Attraction, Repulsion, Connection: Romance is More than Hotness" and a little about Never Gone's romantic subplot. It's my first blog ramble visit, so please come say hello. Or debate my viewpoint about what makes truly memorable romantic plots (hint: it's not great hair).

Meanwhile, I've signed up for a blog hop for the first time in, er... a pretty darned long time. And because of that I've lost some great opportunities to meet amazing people.

So when I heard about the Follow-Swap Blog Hop, I thought it seemed just the ticket. The purpose of the hop is simply to meet people, read a post they consider one of their best and make new connections. Click on the grid of smileys over in the sidebar for more information.

And if you're joining me from the hop and my link was wonky, I shared one of my "editor-on-call" posts about how to avoid shifting tenses. Yes, I have more recent helpful posts too. Click the "editor-on-call" label.   And thanks for visiting!

Do you even take a peek at your stats, just to see what posts resonate with readers? I quite surprised by the posts that get the most page views: my National Poetry Month spotlight on concrete poems, the photos of my hubby's Dr. Who snowflakes, my deep analyses of Neville Longbottom and Severus Snape, my explanation of why I struggle to write autobiographical work.

Old friends, which of my posts have you enjoyed most? The grammar/useage posts? The deep characterization posts? My analytical posts? My Harry Potter posts? Some other category? 

 New friends, what do you look for in blogs you follow?

Wednesday, September 12



For your viewing pleasure, the book trailer for Never Gone.

In a future post, I'll share a bit about how I built it from the script up, and explain some of the technical aspects of how this was created.

HUGE thanks go to my husband, who was able to take my rather static concept and make it sing!

Let me know what you think. Did this pique your interest in the book?

Presenting the book trailer for NEVER GONE

Wednesday, September 12, 2012 Laurel Garver


For your viewing pleasure, the book trailer for Never Gone.

In a future post, I'll share a bit about how I built it from the script up, and explain some of the technical aspects of how this was created.

HUGE thanks go to my husband, who was able to take my rather static concept and make it sing!

Let me know what you think. Did this pique your interest in the book?

Friday, September 7

The Kindle edition of NEVER GONE is now available from Amazon US and Amazon UK and through Amazon's other EU sites as well. The Nook edition is available through B&N. Woot!

The official release date for the paperback is 9/27.

Would you like to help me spread the word? Click on the form below and let me know how you'd like to participate.





In other news, I at last got the share buttons functioning on this blog, so my posts are tweetable etc. right from this site. Apparently the CSS needed a bit of tweaking for the widget to appear.

Have a great weekend, friends! Any special plans?

It's here! (part 1)

Friday, September 07, 2012 Laurel Garver
The Kindle edition of NEVER GONE is now available from Amazon US and Amazon UK and through Amazon's other EU sites as well. The Nook edition is available through B&N. Woot!

The official release date for the paperback is 9/27.

Would you like to help me spread the word? Click on the form below and let me know how you'd like to participate.





In other news, I at last got the share buttons functioning on this blog, so my posts are tweetable etc. right from this site. Apparently the CSS needed a bit of tweaking for the widget to appear.

Have a great weekend, friends! Any special plans?

Thursday, September 6


So here it is, my lovely cover.

This is very much a group effort. The concept is mine. I wanted a clean, minimalist look with custom art that reflected my protagonist's two great loves--pencil drawing and her dad--yet hinted at the grief-oriented content.

Thankfully I have a very talented husband who was able to create this wonderful sketch of my protagonist's father, Graham the photographer. From there, the sketch went to an actual photographer, my friend's cousin, Whitney Levin. She had a laugh about how strange it was to photograph a photographer. Very meta. The shoot was done in August with a green leaf. Deep green.

That's when the real magic happened. I turned over the photograph (purchased all rights, something I'd recommend for the most flexibility) to my designer friend Ruth. She worked in book design before becoming a homeschooling mom, a thorough pro. She was able to autumn-ize the leaf and give me wonderful typography that manages to keep minimalist from being boring.

So what's NEVER GONE about? Grief, ghosts, and God.

Here's my official product description:

Days after her father’s death, fifteen-year-old Dani Deane begins seeing him all around New York — wading through discarded sketches in her room, roaming the halls at church, socializing at his post-funeral reception. Is grief making her crazy? Or could her dad really be lingering between this world and the next, trying to contact her?

Dani desperately longs for his help. Without him keeping the peace, Dani’s relationship with her mother is deteriorating fast. Soon Mum ships her off to rural England with Dad’s relatives for a visit that Dani fears will become a permanent stay. But she won’t let her arty, urban life slip away without a fight, especially when daily phone calls with her lab partner Theo become her lifeline.

To find her way home, Dani must somehow reconnect with Mum. But as she seeks advice from relatives and insights from old letters, she uncovers family secrets that shake her to the core. Convinced that Dad’s ghost alone can help her, she sets out on a dangerous journey to contact him one last time.

For ages 14+, YA edgy inspirational

= = =

You can add it to your to-read shelf on Goodreads today. The ebook will be available in a matter of days, the paperback by my official release date, September 27.

Stay tuned for more news about blog tours and other festivities.

What do you think? 


Cover reveal - NEVER GONE

Thursday, September 06, 2012 Laurel Garver

So here it is, my lovely cover.

This is very much a group effort. The concept is mine. I wanted a clean, minimalist look with custom art that reflected my protagonist's two great loves--pencil drawing and her dad--yet hinted at the grief-oriented content.

Thankfully I have a very talented husband who was able to create this wonderful sketch of my protagonist's father, Graham the photographer. From there, the sketch went to an actual photographer, my friend's cousin, Whitney Levin. She had a laugh about how strange it was to photograph a photographer. Very meta. The shoot was done in August with a green leaf. Deep green.

That's when the real magic happened. I turned over the photograph (purchased all rights, something I'd recommend for the most flexibility) to my designer friend Ruth. She worked in book design before becoming a homeschooling mom, a thorough pro. She was able to autumn-ize the leaf and give me wonderful typography that manages to keep minimalist from being boring.

So what's NEVER GONE about? Grief, ghosts, and God.

Here's my official product description:

Days after her father’s death, fifteen-year-old Dani Deane begins seeing him all around New York — wading through discarded sketches in her room, roaming the halls at church, socializing at his post-funeral reception. Is grief making her crazy? Or could her dad really be lingering between this world and the next, trying to contact her?

Dani desperately longs for his help. Without him keeping the peace, Dani’s relationship with her mother is deteriorating fast. Soon Mum ships her off to rural England with Dad’s relatives for a visit that Dani fears will become a permanent stay. But she won’t let her arty, urban life slip away without a fight, especially when daily phone calls with her lab partner Theo become her lifeline.

To find her way home, Dani must somehow reconnect with Mum. But as she seeks advice from relatives and insights from old letters, she uncovers family secrets that shake her to the core. Convinced that Dad’s ghost alone can help her, she sets out on a dangerous journey to contact him one last time.

For ages 14+, YA edgy inspirational

= = =

You can add it to your to-read shelf on Goodreads today. The ebook will be available in a matter of days, the paperback by my official release date, September 27.

Stay tuned for more news about blog tours and other festivities.

What do you think? 


Tuesday, September 4

Most of the time, when things don't happen on schedule, our natural reaction is annoyance. Stupid obstacle! Rubbish delay!

Taking on the publisher hat in addition to the writer hat has really challenged my attitude about delays. Doing things right is better than doing things fast. I can't tell you how many times in the processes of setting up my small business and preparing NEVER GONE for publication that delays have proven beneficial. I ended up delving into new social media to relieve the itch of waiting for my photographer to get back from vacation and my cover designer to take needed time to do color enhancements. I found and fixed some wonky ebook formatting while waiting for some early reviewers to tell me what format they preferred to read in.

I continue to wait to have the final cover files to do a reveal, and I'm pretty sure the wait will be for the good in some way.

So stay tuned. I'll soon share the look and a description of my "book baby"...when the time is right.

How have you been stretched in your writing life? Have you experienced times when your patience has paid off in unexpected ways?

The gift of delays

Tuesday, September 04, 2012 Laurel Garver
Most of the time, when things don't happen on schedule, our natural reaction is annoyance. Stupid obstacle! Rubbish delay!

Taking on the publisher hat in addition to the writer hat has really challenged my attitude about delays. Doing things right is better than doing things fast. I can't tell you how many times in the processes of setting up my small business and preparing NEVER GONE for publication that delays have proven beneficial. I ended up delving into new social media to relieve the itch of waiting for my photographer to get back from vacation and my cover designer to take needed time to do color enhancements. I found and fixed some wonky ebook formatting while waiting for some early reviewers to tell me what format they preferred to read in.

I continue to wait to have the final cover files to do a reveal, and I'm pretty sure the wait will be for the good in some way.

So stay tuned. I'll soon share the look and a description of my "book baby"...when the time is right.

How have you been stretched in your writing life? Have you experienced times when your patience has paid off in unexpected ways?

Tuesday, July 24

My 400th post seemed like the right time to share something that has been brewing since last fall.

My young adult novel, Never Gone, will release in September.

I'm publishing it as an e-book and a paperback. Little old me. It has taken me a long time to move from being reconciled with the decision to being extremely excited about it. Cautious, perfectionistic person that I am, I've already grown in ways I'm only beginning to understand since I made this decision. Like learning to own who I am and what I think, without backpedaling or wilting in the face of criticism--real or imagined. 

I have confidence in the power of this story. Confidence in the opinions of the 30+ people who read some version of it and encouraged me to pursue publication. Confidence that every professional and creative experience I've had this far in my life has prepared me to make the leap from writer to publisher. Confidence that God will grant me grace each day to walk through the process, faithfully giving it my best effort, if I leave the results to Him.

In the coming weeks, as I busily prepare the edited manuscript for print, I'll share a little about my decision-making process and, of course, news about the book itself.


As part of this transition from writer to author/publisher, I've joined forces with a group of writers of realistic fiction called "The Rabble Writers." Our new site describes us this way: "We're storytellers who play in the shadows, aware there is no compassion without pain. No laughter without silence. No sorrow without love. We celebrate the intimate, the personal and profound. We are the rabble-writers."


Our site not only posts poetry daily, we also engage in conversations about a wide variety of topics we're passionate about. Come on by and say hello!


Did you suspect this news was coming, or have I totally surprised you? Are you naturally cautious or does risk-taking come easily? 





My BIG news

Tuesday, July 24, 2012 Laurel Garver
My 400th post seemed like the right time to share something that has been brewing since last fall.

My young adult novel, Never Gone, will release in September.

I'm publishing it as an e-book and a paperback. Little old me. It has taken me a long time to move from being reconciled with the decision to being extremely excited about it. Cautious, perfectionistic person that I am, I've already grown in ways I'm only beginning to understand since I made this decision. Like learning to own who I am and what I think, without backpedaling or wilting in the face of criticism--real or imagined. 

I have confidence in the power of this story. Confidence in the opinions of the 30+ people who read some version of it and encouraged me to pursue publication. Confidence that every professional and creative experience I've had this far in my life has prepared me to make the leap from writer to publisher. Confidence that God will grant me grace each day to walk through the process, faithfully giving it my best effort, if I leave the results to Him.

In the coming weeks, as I busily prepare the edited manuscript for print, I'll share a little about my decision-making process and, of course, news about the book itself.


As part of this transition from writer to author/publisher, I've joined forces with a group of writers of realistic fiction called "The Rabble Writers." Our new site describes us this way: "We're storytellers who play in the shadows, aware there is no compassion without pain. No laughter without silence. No sorrow without love. We celebrate the intimate, the personal and profound. We are the rabble-writers."


Our site not only posts poetry daily, we also engage in conversations about a wide variety of topics we're passionate about. Come on by and say hello!


Did you suspect this news was coming, or have I totally surprised you? Are you naturally cautious or does risk-taking come easily? 





Saturday, June 2

Never Gone, © 2012 Laurel W. Garver


Chapter 1



My dad and I have this game we play on elevators. One of us comes up with three related things and the other has to guess the category. If I say “Frick, Cloisters, Guggenheim,” Dad will know they’re museums — and our favorite Saturday haunts here in the city. He usually stumps me with weird British slang from his childhood or random facts about my mother. I have a way harder time stumping him. Even when I try classmates’ names, art terms, indie bands, or obscure Harry Potter characters, he almost always gets it right.

As the floors blip by, I at last have the perfect clue: Self, Us, People.

Identity groups? he’d guess. Circles of moral responsibility? Subjects of your latest drawing? Blimey, is it the multiple points of view in Renoir’s group paintings?

Nope, he’d never get it. He never saw those coffee-ringed magazine covers in the ICU waiting room. He was the patient. And even though he died two days ago, I can’t stop playing Three Things on elevators.

By the time I reach the seventh floor, I have a strep-like ache in my throat. I shuffle into the hall, hugging a packet of Dad’s memorial service bulletins to my chest. I won’t lose it. I won’t. The minute I let one toe stray into that quicksand, it will suck me right under.

As I trudge toward our apartment, every muscle fiber screams, “No! Run!” like I’m the ditzy chick in some horror movie about to go explore the haunted attic alone.

The moment I slide my key in the lock, my mother yanks open the door. She stands there in her cashmere suit, fists on hips, dry-eyed and smelling of Tresor perfume, like she’d spent the afternoon in client meetings rather than a crematorium in Greenwich Village. I bet she’d let her long-lost Central Pennsylvania accent slip out before she’d ever shed a tear.

“Dani! Where have you been? I’ve been sick with worry. Your grandfather’s cab got back ages ago, and he said you were right behind him.”

“You didn’t get my message?”

She sags a little. “Do you have any idea how many people have left messages today?”

“Sorry, really. I, uh, stayed late to help with this.” I hand her the packet of bulletins, still warm from the copier. “The secretary let me do the layout. And a special cover.”

“So all this time you’ve been at church?”

I nod and follow her into the dining room, where the table is set for six. She tosses the packet onto the sideboard, then turns, frowning, to inspect my ink-stained fingers. “What on earth? You had a nail appointment.”

If she’d look in the packet, she might have a clue where the hours went and how I got so inky. But as usual, she can’t be bothered with anything tainted by stained glass and steeples.

I glance at Dad’s chair, wishing he were here to run interference. He’d compliment my skillful hands, explain how I can’t draw wearing those thick acrylic tips. But his chair is empty, and no matter how hard I wish it, I’ll never hear his voice again.

“Sorry. I just…ran out of time.”

“This simply won’t do, darling.” Mum prods my ragged cuticles. “You can’t stand in a receiving line and shake a hundred hands looking like this. Go wash up, and I’ll give you a manicure after dinner.”

Nice. Deviate from Mum’s precious plan and I’m dismissed like a coffee-spilling, Xerox-breaking temp. I doubt anyone will give a hoot about my stupid nails tomorrow.

I open my mouth to argue, then clamp it shut. If Dad were here, he’d say it was “jolly nice of your mum to offer” and make the sign language motion for “honor.” My cue to remember the fifth commandment: “Honor your father and your mother.” To remember our long talks about Mum and God and how being a sullen jerk when she pushes my buttons only makes my faith a joke to her. Hypocrisy. A lie.

I sigh. “Okay, Mum.”

When I look toward Dad’s chair again, he nods and mouths, Well done.

Dad?

He runs a hand through his thick, ginger-blond hair and smiles. His blue eyes crinkle in the corners. I want to run to him and kiss those crinkles, kiss his hawk nose and big ears. Hang on and never let go. But I can’t move, can scarcely breathe. There’s no sign that his face was a crazy quilt of stitches, purple welts, and crusted bandages. That machines kept his lungs working.

Mum waves a napkin in my face. “Dani? Hello? You all right?”

I peer around her. Dad’s chair is empty again, but the placemat at his space is askew. No way did Madame Perfect do that.

“Danielle?” Mum touches my arm and I jerk to attention.

“Sorry. I was just remembering —” I rifle through my coat pockets. “Here’s the receipts and change from the taxi. And I’m not hungry. But…I’ll take care of my nails. Now. On my own. But thanks for offering. I guess I’ll go now. To my room. So, um, bye.”

I stumble down the hall and pull my bedroom door closed behind me. For a dizzy moment, I grip the knob and gulp in air. I’m all right. It was nothing. A flash. A brain burp. After spending hours drawing his portrait from an old photo, I must have his face burned onto my retinas like an afterimage.

Except he moved. Gestured. Communicated. Bumped a placemat. I don’t think that’s usual for a grief hallucination.

Conflicting feelings scamper inside me like crazed squirrels. All around me is nothing but more chaos. Deep drifts of crumpled Kleenex, unfinished sketches, textbooks, and lotion tubes litter the floor. My bed’s lost under heaps of laundry. In one corner, my half-packed suitcase lays open beside an unopened stack of Christmas gifts. When Mum gets a spare moment to see this place, she’s going to flip.

“Dani?” Aunt Cecily calls outside my door. “Back, are you?”

I turn from the mess and open my door. Dad’s older sister shifts nervously in her tweed overcoat and tugs on a lock of her bobbed, sandy hair. She hands me a white garment bag from Macy’s. “Your mother asked me to find you something dark and dressy to wear tomorrow. None of your skirts or dresses is quite right for the occasion, she said.”

“Probably not.” I rip away the plastic. Something black and blandly shapeless emerges. Lord have mercy. What fashion travesty has Aunt Cardigan-Khaki-Loafers decided to inflict on me? She must’ve fallen into the clutches of Macy’s most sadistic sales clerk, or the most clueless — someone who assumes every Brit takes fashion tips from the queen.

Cecily’s forehead puckers with worry. “Is it all right, dearest?”

“It’s…nice,” I say, trying to not cringe as I rub the scratchy fabric between my fingers.

“You hate it.” She blushes, two red splotches spreading across her milky English skin.

Dad looked just like that whenever I asked him to pick up tampons at the store. I wince and turn away.

“We can take it back,” Cecily blurts, misreading me. She frantically digs through her pockets, finds the receipt, and jabs it at me. “Here, I still have the bill of sale. We can go now. Or after dinner. They’re open till ten at least.” She grabs up the shredded garment bag, noisily rustling plastic as she tries to rewrap the dress. “I don’t know why your mother asked me to shop for you. She knows I haven’t her capacity for glamour.”

It’s one thing for Mum to boss and bully me, but there’s no way she can do this to Cecily.

“Please stop fluttering. It’s fine.” I take the dress again and hang it on a peg, letting the plastic fall. There has to be some way to fix this, to spare my style-challenged aunt from embarrassment or having to fight the city crowds, which terrify her. Come on, brain.

“Oh, Dani,” she says. “Don’t settle on my account.”

“It’s just very…grown up, which is kind of startling. Like you see me as so, well, mature.”

“Of course you are, so brave through such a difficult time.” As tears pool in her eyes, she briskly pats my arm and ducks away from my room.

The scent of beef bourguignon wafts through the door as she goes. For a split-second I’m tempted to follow her. But Dad’s counting on me to “honor” Mum, which for now means doing what I say I will — skip dinner to fix my raggedy nails.

I kick a path to my dresser and rifle through my toiletries for an emery board. As I dig deeper, something cool oozes onto my fingers. Oh, no. Hand sanitizer. One whiff and I’m back in Dad’s ICU room with powered-down machines, a gray stone man in a bed. So cold. So silent. So gone. I hurl the leaky bottle across the room, and it lands just short of the trash can, by Dad’s shoe.

Dad’s shoe?

I stare at the scuffed, brown oxford, size 12. My gaze drifts up to jeans legs, a corduroy blazer. It’s Dad, leaning on my desk like he used to every night.

He tilts his head and knits his pale eyebrows. “Rough day, my love?”

My love. His Rosebud. Dance-pants. Doodlebug.

Tears sting my eyes. My heart tugs me to go hug him and pour out all my troubles, while my brain screams Flatline! Corpse! Crematorium!

I wobble and sink onto my bed.

“Oh, Dad,” I croak. “What am I supposed to do without you? Mum and I…it’s hopeless. I can’t do anything right in her eyes. To her, I’m just a pathetic slob.”

“Not so, not so. Grace brags endlessly about your talent to anyone who’ll listen. She just frets about you, you know, developing a proper artist’s eye for composition, symmetry and all that. A bit of order does help, right?”

“I guess.”

He smiles. “Very well, then, let’s get to it. Crank some tunes and we’ll have this place spiffed up in no time. Come on. It’ll be fun. I’ll do my Bowie impression.”

I snort at the thought of Dad waving his long, wiry arms to glam rock while shelving books and dusting. He always is happy to be an epic doofus if it makes boring chores entertaining.

Not is. Was. Shame flushes through me.

“This can’t be real.” I turn my hot face away and peel off my coat. Why am I talking to this hallucination or ghost or whatever it is? How could I possibly believe that Dad can go on having fun and playing peacemaker? It’s wishful thinking in the extreme.

When I turn back, he’s gone. Instead of a sweet breeze of relief, the loss hits like a fist.

“Dad?”

I squeeze my eyes shut and try to conjure him. The lilt of his northern British accent. The sharp scent of darkroom chemicals clinging to his clothes. But it’s no good.

“I’m sorry I doubted you, Dad. Please come back. I promise I’ll listen.”

* * *

My breath fogs the cold glass as I perch on my bedroom windowsill and frantically dial Heather. Stories below me, yellow cabs race down Columbus toward midtown.

At Heather’s end, the Mexican Hat Dance is probably jangling in a pocket of that heinous gold lamé knapsack she loves so much. I hope she can hear it. Chances are her Georgia relatives dragged her to a monster truck rally or line dance or whatever it is they do for holiday family fun. She headed south for winter break with her big, noisy family the day we were all so sure Dad would pull through. He did wake up for a while. And Christmas was coming.

But real life isn’t a cheesy holiday flick with miracles that arrive right on time. Dad didn’t pull through, and now my best friend is far, far away when I need her most.

The line clicks. “Hey,” Heather says. “I thought we were gonna chat online at nine. You okay?”

“No, I — It’s…something really, really weird has happened. I saw…um —”

“Becca!” she suddenly shouts at her toddler sister, “get your grubby paws off my pastels and go back to bed! Hang on a sec, Dani, I need to move my art stuff before Becca scrawls a tornado in Times Square.”

The phone crackles on fabric and I hear Heather calling for backup.

I sigh with relief. Bless you, Becca, you sticky-handed terror. That was a close one. What was I thinking, trying to tell Heather I saw Dad? She’ll think I’ve gone off the deep end. Or worse, she’ll let something slip to our youth pastor or even my mother.

I grab my sketch pad and attack it with a charcoal stick while I wait. My jagged strokes form Dad and me on the steps of the Metropolitan. It sucks not being able to talk about his ghost or spirit or whatever it is, but what can I do? Who could I possibly trust with something this bizarre?

The phone clanks again. “Sorry ‘bout that. It’s too doggone noisy for Becca to sleep well here, with my redneck relatives hollering all the time. I keep hoping there’s some mistake and Daddy was switched at birth. Oh, get this — loony Aunt Pearl is going to clown college.”

My laugh comes out slightly strangled. Rusty. Like I forgot how.

“You don’t sound good, Dani. If the airport weren’t three hours away, I’d be on a plane home in a heartbeat. How about we take your dad some flowers when I get back Tuesday?”

“Sorry, but I can’t. I’m leaving on Monday for England.”

“You are? But why?”

“The interment.”

“What’s that? Sounds like something Nazis would do.”

“It’s the, you know…the dirt part.”

“But I thought your dad was being buried in New York.” Her voice is thick and choked. “Aren’t we gonna get even a day of break to hang out?”

I blink back tears. “I wish. I really do. But the England burial is in Dad’s will. Only New Year’s Eve flights had any seats.”

“You’ll come right on back though, won’t you?”

“No. Not for, um, two weeks.”

“Two weeks! Are ya kidding me? What about midterms?”

“Mum thinks she can cut a deal with the headmaster. I’m not sure what I’ll do if she can’t. I’ve got enough going on without worrying that my GPA is in jeopardy, too, right? I feel like I’m sinking into a swampy pit. I wish someone would throw me a vine.”

“I’ll try, Dani. Let me think. For your dad’s memorial service tomorrow, you need a plan, a way to bail if things get too ugly.”

“How bad can it get? I doubt we’ll have a pro-wrestling smack-down, like at your great-granddad’s funeral in Mobile. My family doesn’t really do ugly feelings, except for sulks and sarcasm.” I pick up my sketch pad again and layer on choppy cross-hatch shadows. “But if I get weepy and my mascara melts, I’ll…I don’t know. Hide in the bathroom?”

“Not very original, but it’ll do. Listen, you need someone there for you who won’t be a mess themselves.”

“Like who? Everyone I know left town for the holidays.”

“That can’t be true. But don’t you worry about it, all right? I got unlimited long distance and I won’t rest till I find someone.”

“Seriously?”

“Trust me, I wouldn’t let you be alone at a time like this.”

Trust her. I look at my desk, where Dad was standing just minutes ago. Trust her, my only friend who came to the hospital, ate bad cafeteria meals with me, typed my tear-stained homework.

“Heather, I need to tell you something a little freaky.” I take a deep breath. Trust her. Trust her. “I just saw my dad. And he talked to me.”

She gasps, and then the line’s silent.

“Heather?”

“You — You think your dad is…haunting you?”

“I don’t know exactly.” I go to my desk and touch the spot Dad had leaned against. “I was trying not to fight with Mum and he was suddenly there, kind of…helping me cope with her. Later he offered to help me clean my room. He seemed so real, down to the wrinkles around his eyes.”

“I know you miss him a lot, but what you saw…might not be quite what you think.”

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence. You think I’m cavorting with evil spirits, huh?”

“That’s not what I meant.” She blows out a slow breath. “You’ve got me worried. Please don’t do anything extreme — like climb in a casket or something. You’re stressed out and hurting and your mind can play tricks on you.”

“Climb in a casket? As if. You are so morbid. Anyway, there is no casket. Dad was cremated to travel lighter. I’d need to be the size of a Barbie doll to fit in his urn.”

“Dani, you better talk to somebody who’s there in person. Like now. I know you and your mom aren’t exactly tight. But your dad’s parents are there, aren’t they?”

“Yeah. His big sister, too.”

“Talk to them, okay? Promise?”

“Fine. Whatever. See you in a few weeks.”

I plunk the phone on my jagged sketch of Dad and me. My face looks half-melted, like Quasimodo or pottery that collapsed in the kiln. Heather’s right. I’m losing my freaking mind. And now my inky fingertips have a fresh coat of charcoal. Great. I can’t do anything without making a mess.

I tiptoe to the bathroom, hoping Mum doesn’t stop me for a surprise inspection. I scrub my hands with wet wipes, pumice soap, then nail polish remover. A dozen cotton balls later, my fingers still have a faint blue tinge, like I’m oxygen-deprived. I ought to put on Goth-black polish to complete the look. Better yet, I could stick feathers in my hair and change my name to Dances-with-Ghosts. It’d be about as sane as keeping my promise to Heather.

I can’t go marching into the dining room and say, “Great news! Dad’s back. He just stopped by for a chat.” I can picture how swimmingly that’d go down with my family. Aunt Cecily would weep into her knitting, while Dad’s mother, Grandma Deane, would sit pale and stricken in her ivory twinset, teacup rattling in her hands. Dad’s father, the Reverend Elliott Deane, would either conk me with a crucifix like I’m possessed or give me the senile church lady treatment — a thoughtful frown, reassuring pat, and vague inspirational quote of the day. Mum would flash one of her apologetic “teenagers are such a trial” smiles, and say nothing. Not like she’d get a word in edgewise with Poppa Tilman grousing about her “un-daughterly” hospitality, “uppity” cooking, “plain-Jane” décor.

Well, I didn’t promise I’d talk about the ghost, only that I’d talk. I think I can manage to get “More tea anyone?” to come out of my mouth.

I towel off each knuckle and nail, chanting a prayer: Lord God. Have mercy. On me.

My heart rate slows. I can do this.

I shut off the light and slowly pad down the hall. Voices grow clearer as I near the dining room. Mum is blathering on about the real estate market in our Upper West Side neighborhood.

Then Grandma asks, “You’ve discussed this with Dani, haven’t you?”

I freeze. Discussed what?

= = =

To read more, get NEVER GONE from these retailers:
e-book: Amazon.com, Amazon UK, Barnes and Noble, Kobo, Smashwords, iTunes
Paperback: CreateSpace, Amazon, The Book Depository

Add it on Goodreads

Watch the trailer



Excerpt from NEVER GONE

Saturday, June 02, 2012 Laurel Garver
Never Gone, © 2012 Laurel W. Garver


Chapter 1



My dad and I have this game we play on elevators. One of us comes up with three related things and the other has to guess the category. If I say “Frick, Cloisters, Guggenheim,” Dad will know they’re museums — and our favorite Saturday haunts here in the city. He usually stumps me with weird British slang from his childhood or random facts about my mother. I have a way harder time stumping him. Even when I try classmates’ names, art terms, indie bands, or obscure Harry Potter characters, he almost always gets it right.

As the floors blip by, I at last have the perfect clue: Self, Us, People.

Identity groups? he’d guess. Circles of moral responsibility? Subjects of your latest drawing? Blimey, is it the multiple points of view in Renoir’s group paintings?

Nope, he’d never get it. He never saw those coffee-ringed magazine covers in the ICU waiting room. He was the patient. And even though he died two days ago, I can’t stop playing Three Things on elevators.

By the time I reach the seventh floor, I have a strep-like ache in my throat. I shuffle into the hall, hugging a packet of Dad’s memorial service bulletins to my chest. I won’t lose it. I won’t. The minute I let one toe stray into that quicksand, it will suck me right under.

As I trudge toward our apartment, every muscle fiber screams, “No! Run!” like I’m the ditzy chick in some horror movie about to go explore the haunted attic alone.

The moment I slide my key in the lock, my mother yanks open the door. She stands there in her cashmere suit, fists on hips, dry-eyed and smelling of Tresor perfume, like she’d spent the afternoon in client meetings rather than a crematorium in Greenwich Village. I bet she’d let her long-lost Central Pennsylvania accent slip out before she’d ever shed a tear.

“Dani! Where have you been? I’ve been sick with worry. Your grandfather’s cab got back ages ago, and he said you were right behind him.”

“You didn’t get my message?”

She sags a little. “Do you have any idea how many people have left messages today?”

“Sorry, really. I, uh, stayed late to help with this.” I hand her the packet of bulletins, still warm from the copier. “The secretary let me do the layout. And a special cover.”

“So all this time you’ve been at church?”

I nod and follow her into the dining room, where the table is set for six. She tosses the packet onto the sideboard, then turns, frowning, to inspect my ink-stained fingers. “What on earth? You had a nail appointment.”

If she’d look in the packet, she might have a clue where the hours went and how I got so inky. But as usual, she can’t be bothered with anything tainted by stained glass and steeples.

I glance at Dad’s chair, wishing he were here to run interference. He’d compliment my skillful hands, explain how I can’t draw wearing those thick acrylic tips. But his chair is empty, and no matter how hard I wish it, I’ll never hear his voice again.

“Sorry. I just…ran out of time.”

“This simply won’t do, darling.” Mum prods my ragged cuticles. “You can’t stand in a receiving line and shake a hundred hands looking like this. Go wash up, and I’ll give you a manicure after dinner.”

Nice. Deviate from Mum’s precious plan and I’m dismissed like a coffee-spilling, Xerox-breaking temp. I doubt anyone will give a hoot about my stupid nails tomorrow.

I open my mouth to argue, then clamp it shut. If Dad were here, he’d say it was “jolly nice of your mum to offer” and make the sign language motion for “honor.” My cue to remember the fifth commandment: “Honor your father and your mother.” To remember our long talks about Mum and God and how being a sullen jerk when she pushes my buttons only makes my faith a joke to her. Hypocrisy. A lie.

I sigh. “Okay, Mum.”

When I look toward Dad’s chair again, he nods and mouths, Well done.

Dad?

He runs a hand through his thick, ginger-blond hair and smiles. His blue eyes crinkle in the corners. I want to run to him and kiss those crinkles, kiss his hawk nose and big ears. Hang on and never let go. But I can’t move, can scarcely breathe. There’s no sign that his face was a crazy quilt of stitches, purple welts, and crusted bandages. That machines kept his lungs working.

Mum waves a napkin in my face. “Dani? Hello? You all right?”

I peer around her. Dad’s chair is empty again, but the placemat at his space is askew. No way did Madame Perfect do that.

“Danielle?” Mum touches my arm and I jerk to attention.

“Sorry. I was just remembering —” I rifle through my coat pockets. “Here’s the receipts and change from the taxi. And I’m not hungry. But…I’ll take care of my nails. Now. On my own. But thanks for offering. I guess I’ll go now. To my room. So, um, bye.”

I stumble down the hall and pull my bedroom door closed behind me. For a dizzy moment, I grip the knob and gulp in air. I’m all right. It was nothing. A flash. A brain burp. After spending hours drawing his portrait from an old photo, I must have his face burned onto my retinas like an afterimage.

Except he moved. Gestured. Communicated. Bumped a placemat. I don’t think that’s usual for a grief hallucination.

Conflicting feelings scamper inside me like crazed squirrels. All around me is nothing but more chaos. Deep drifts of crumpled Kleenex, unfinished sketches, textbooks, and lotion tubes litter the floor. My bed’s lost under heaps of laundry. In one corner, my half-packed suitcase lays open beside an unopened stack of Christmas gifts. When Mum gets a spare moment to see this place, she’s going to flip.

“Dani?” Aunt Cecily calls outside my door. “Back, are you?”

I turn from the mess and open my door. Dad’s older sister shifts nervously in her tweed overcoat and tugs on a lock of her bobbed, sandy hair. She hands me a white garment bag from Macy’s. “Your mother asked me to find you something dark and dressy to wear tomorrow. None of your skirts or dresses is quite right for the occasion, she said.”

“Probably not.” I rip away the plastic. Something black and blandly shapeless emerges. Lord have mercy. What fashion travesty has Aunt Cardigan-Khaki-Loafers decided to inflict on me? She must’ve fallen into the clutches of Macy’s most sadistic sales clerk, or the most clueless — someone who assumes every Brit takes fashion tips from the queen.

Cecily’s forehead puckers with worry. “Is it all right, dearest?”

“It’s…nice,” I say, trying to not cringe as I rub the scratchy fabric between my fingers.

“You hate it.” She blushes, two red splotches spreading across her milky English skin.

Dad looked just like that whenever I asked him to pick up tampons at the store. I wince and turn away.

“We can take it back,” Cecily blurts, misreading me. She frantically digs through her pockets, finds the receipt, and jabs it at me. “Here, I still have the bill of sale. We can go now. Or after dinner. They’re open till ten at least.” She grabs up the shredded garment bag, noisily rustling plastic as she tries to rewrap the dress. “I don’t know why your mother asked me to shop for you. She knows I haven’t her capacity for glamour.”

It’s one thing for Mum to boss and bully me, but there’s no way she can do this to Cecily.

“Please stop fluttering. It’s fine.” I take the dress again and hang it on a peg, letting the plastic fall. There has to be some way to fix this, to spare my style-challenged aunt from embarrassment or having to fight the city crowds, which terrify her. Come on, brain.

“Oh, Dani,” she says. “Don’t settle on my account.”

“It’s just very…grown up, which is kind of startling. Like you see me as so, well, mature.”

“Of course you are, so brave through such a difficult time.” As tears pool in her eyes, she briskly pats my arm and ducks away from my room.

The scent of beef bourguignon wafts through the door as she goes. For a split-second I’m tempted to follow her. But Dad’s counting on me to “honor” Mum, which for now means doing what I say I will — skip dinner to fix my raggedy nails.

I kick a path to my dresser and rifle through my toiletries for an emery board. As I dig deeper, something cool oozes onto my fingers. Oh, no. Hand sanitizer. One whiff and I’m back in Dad’s ICU room with powered-down machines, a gray stone man in a bed. So cold. So silent. So gone. I hurl the leaky bottle across the room, and it lands just short of the trash can, by Dad’s shoe.

Dad’s shoe?

I stare at the scuffed, brown oxford, size 12. My gaze drifts up to jeans legs, a corduroy blazer. It’s Dad, leaning on my desk like he used to every night.

He tilts his head and knits his pale eyebrows. “Rough day, my love?”

My love. His Rosebud. Dance-pants. Doodlebug.

Tears sting my eyes. My heart tugs me to go hug him and pour out all my troubles, while my brain screams Flatline! Corpse! Crematorium!

I wobble and sink onto my bed.

“Oh, Dad,” I croak. “What am I supposed to do without you? Mum and I…it’s hopeless. I can’t do anything right in her eyes. To her, I’m just a pathetic slob.”

“Not so, not so. Grace brags endlessly about your talent to anyone who’ll listen. She just frets about you, you know, developing a proper artist’s eye for composition, symmetry and all that. A bit of order does help, right?”

“I guess.”

He smiles. “Very well, then, let’s get to it. Crank some tunes and we’ll have this place spiffed up in no time. Come on. It’ll be fun. I’ll do my Bowie impression.”

I snort at the thought of Dad waving his long, wiry arms to glam rock while shelving books and dusting. He always is happy to be an epic doofus if it makes boring chores entertaining.

Not is. Was. Shame flushes through me.

“This can’t be real.” I turn my hot face away and peel off my coat. Why am I talking to this hallucination or ghost or whatever it is? How could I possibly believe that Dad can go on having fun and playing peacemaker? It’s wishful thinking in the extreme.

When I turn back, he’s gone. Instead of a sweet breeze of relief, the loss hits like a fist.

“Dad?”

I squeeze my eyes shut and try to conjure him. The lilt of his northern British accent. The sharp scent of darkroom chemicals clinging to his clothes. But it’s no good.

“I’m sorry I doubted you, Dad. Please come back. I promise I’ll listen.”

* * *

My breath fogs the cold glass as I perch on my bedroom windowsill and frantically dial Heather. Stories below me, yellow cabs race down Columbus toward midtown.

At Heather’s end, the Mexican Hat Dance is probably jangling in a pocket of that heinous gold lamé knapsack she loves so much. I hope she can hear it. Chances are her Georgia relatives dragged her to a monster truck rally or line dance or whatever it is they do for holiday family fun. She headed south for winter break with her big, noisy family the day we were all so sure Dad would pull through. He did wake up for a while. And Christmas was coming.

But real life isn’t a cheesy holiday flick with miracles that arrive right on time. Dad didn’t pull through, and now my best friend is far, far away when I need her most.

The line clicks. “Hey,” Heather says. “I thought we were gonna chat online at nine. You okay?”

“No, I — It’s…something really, really weird has happened. I saw…um —”

“Becca!” she suddenly shouts at her toddler sister, “get your grubby paws off my pastels and go back to bed! Hang on a sec, Dani, I need to move my art stuff before Becca scrawls a tornado in Times Square.”

The phone crackles on fabric and I hear Heather calling for backup.

I sigh with relief. Bless you, Becca, you sticky-handed terror. That was a close one. What was I thinking, trying to tell Heather I saw Dad? She’ll think I’ve gone off the deep end. Or worse, she’ll let something slip to our youth pastor or even my mother.

I grab my sketch pad and attack it with a charcoal stick while I wait. My jagged strokes form Dad and me on the steps of the Metropolitan. It sucks not being able to talk about his ghost or spirit or whatever it is, but what can I do? Who could I possibly trust with something this bizarre?

The phone clanks again. “Sorry ‘bout that. It’s too doggone noisy for Becca to sleep well here, with my redneck relatives hollering all the time. I keep hoping there’s some mistake and Daddy was switched at birth. Oh, get this — loony Aunt Pearl is going to clown college.”

My laugh comes out slightly strangled. Rusty. Like I forgot how.

“You don’t sound good, Dani. If the airport weren’t three hours away, I’d be on a plane home in a heartbeat. How about we take your dad some flowers when I get back Tuesday?”

“Sorry, but I can’t. I’m leaving on Monday for England.”

“You are? But why?”

“The interment.”

“What’s that? Sounds like something Nazis would do.”

“It’s the, you know…the dirt part.”

“But I thought your dad was being buried in New York.” Her voice is thick and choked. “Aren’t we gonna get even a day of break to hang out?”

I blink back tears. “I wish. I really do. But the England burial is in Dad’s will. Only New Year’s Eve flights had any seats.”

“You’ll come right on back though, won’t you?”

“No. Not for, um, two weeks.”

“Two weeks! Are ya kidding me? What about midterms?”

“Mum thinks she can cut a deal with the headmaster. I’m not sure what I’ll do if she can’t. I’ve got enough going on without worrying that my GPA is in jeopardy, too, right? I feel like I’m sinking into a swampy pit. I wish someone would throw me a vine.”

“I’ll try, Dani. Let me think. For your dad’s memorial service tomorrow, you need a plan, a way to bail if things get too ugly.”

“How bad can it get? I doubt we’ll have a pro-wrestling smack-down, like at your great-granddad’s funeral in Mobile. My family doesn’t really do ugly feelings, except for sulks and sarcasm.” I pick up my sketch pad again and layer on choppy cross-hatch shadows. “But if I get weepy and my mascara melts, I’ll…I don’t know. Hide in the bathroom?”

“Not very original, but it’ll do. Listen, you need someone there for you who won’t be a mess themselves.”

“Like who? Everyone I know left town for the holidays.”

“That can’t be true. But don’t you worry about it, all right? I got unlimited long distance and I won’t rest till I find someone.”

“Seriously?”

“Trust me, I wouldn’t let you be alone at a time like this.”

Trust her. I look at my desk, where Dad was standing just minutes ago. Trust her, my only friend who came to the hospital, ate bad cafeteria meals with me, typed my tear-stained homework.

“Heather, I need to tell you something a little freaky.” I take a deep breath. Trust her. Trust her. “I just saw my dad. And he talked to me.”

She gasps, and then the line’s silent.

“Heather?”

“You — You think your dad is…haunting you?”

“I don’t know exactly.” I go to my desk and touch the spot Dad had leaned against. “I was trying not to fight with Mum and he was suddenly there, kind of…helping me cope with her. Later he offered to help me clean my room. He seemed so real, down to the wrinkles around his eyes.”

“I know you miss him a lot, but what you saw…might not be quite what you think.”

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence. You think I’m cavorting with evil spirits, huh?”

“That’s not what I meant.” She blows out a slow breath. “You’ve got me worried. Please don’t do anything extreme — like climb in a casket or something. You’re stressed out and hurting and your mind can play tricks on you.”

“Climb in a casket? As if. You are so morbid. Anyway, there is no casket. Dad was cremated to travel lighter. I’d need to be the size of a Barbie doll to fit in his urn.”

“Dani, you better talk to somebody who’s there in person. Like now. I know you and your mom aren’t exactly tight. But your dad’s parents are there, aren’t they?”

“Yeah. His big sister, too.”

“Talk to them, okay? Promise?”

“Fine. Whatever. See you in a few weeks.”

I plunk the phone on my jagged sketch of Dad and me. My face looks half-melted, like Quasimodo or pottery that collapsed in the kiln. Heather’s right. I’m losing my freaking mind. And now my inky fingertips have a fresh coat of charcoal. Great. I can’t do anything without making a mess.

I tiptoe to the bathroom, hoping Mum doesn’t stop me for a surprise inspection. I scrub my hands with wet wipes, pumice soap, then nail polish remover. A dozen cotton balls later, my fingers still have a faint blue tinge, like I’m oxygen-deprived. I ought to put on Goth-black polish to complete the look. Better yet, I could stick feathers in my hair and change my name to Dances-with-Ghosts. It’d be about as sane as keeping my promise to Heather.

I can’t go marching into the dining room and say, “Great news! Dad’s back. He just stopped by for a chat.” I can picture how swimmingly that’d go down with my family. Aunt Cecily would weep into her knitting, while Dad’s mother, Grandma Deane, would sit pale and stricken in her ivory twinset, teacup rattling in her hands. Dad’s father, the Reverend Elliott Deane, would either conk me with a crucifix like I’m possessed or give me the senile church lady treatment — a thoughtful frown, reassuring pat, and vague inspirational quote of the day. Mum would flash one of her apologetic “teenagers are such a trial” smiles, and say nothing. Not like she’d get a word in edgewise with Poppa Tilman grousing about her “un-daughterly” hospitality, “uppity” cooking, “plain-Jane” décor.

Well, I didn’t promise I’d talk about the ghost, only that I’d talk. I think I can manage to get “More tea anyone?” to come out of my mouth.

I towel off each knuckle and nail, chanting a prayer: Lord God. Have mercy. On me.

My heart rate slows. I can do this.

I shut off the light and slowly pad down the hall. Voices grow clearer as I near the dining room. Mum is blathering on about the real estate market in our Upper West Side neighborhood.

Then Grandma asks, “You’ve discussed this with Dani, haven’t you?”

I freeze. Discussed what?

= = =

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City dweller, word nerd, Indie film enthusiast and incurable Anglophile. Professor's wife and mom to a young adult daughter. Follower of the Good Shepherd, who is faithful when we are faithless. My poetry and fiction explore the places where heart and soul are tested and growing up truly begins.

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