Monday, August 27, 2018
My computer doesn't have a camera so you'll just see my photo but the live interview was a lot of fun. Thanks for watching.
Saturday, September 16, 2017
Friday, September 15, 2017
Readers' Favorite Gives "Small Town Roads" FIVE Stars.
"Small Town Roads is a Christian literary fiction novel depicting the lives and reflections of small-town inhabitants. Evelyn, Harry, and Ruby have outlived their spouses and remain in the same homes and neighborhood. They have been friends for many decades. Rachel lost her brother to cancer, her mother to Alzheimer's and then her father passed away, leaving her the only surviving member of her family, outside of her elderly aunt, Ruby. Now, several years later, after Rachel has finished her schooling for her four-year degree in Criminal Justice, her aunt Ruby is also gone and has left her home to Rachel. Rachel moves into her aunt's home and takes a job in the local police department. Alone and a newcomer in the area, Rachel befriends her Aunt Ruby's old friends and neighbors, Evelyn and Harry. Taking care of her ill and dying family members had put Rachel's life on hold. With a home of her own, new job and new friends, can life get any better?
Small Town Roads by LB Johnson is an eloquent Christian novel portraying the introspection of a community. This literary work is a lovely depiction of the characters' thoughts and motivations, although there is no action and the story can seem to move slowly. The author has a wonderful grasp of the English language, and her words flow together smoothly, creating a beautifully formed sermon. Rachel's and Evelyn's reminiscences and musings about life and faith are almost poetic. Despite their ages and generations, each of the characters portrayed displays their personal and spiritual growth, providing a thought-provoking and insightful story. It was encouraging to see Rachel's faith progress and blossom. This is an inspirational novel that will please those who enjoy reading meaningful Christian-based, faith-inspired books. Five Stars."
Friday, September 1, 2017
I was given a copy of this book as a gift. It took me back to being a child when you were told to play outside in the morning and didn't come in until dinner! No one worried about where you were, or what you were doing! We rode our bikes everywhere, played in the woods, and walked to school. What a different world we live in today.
L.B. Johnson has captured the magic of those days perfectly!!!
LB Johnson has a winner here. Well written, with fully developed strong characters who move realistically through life. The friendships developed ring true, and the importance of faith in our lives is well done. Highly recommended!
This story is largely told through the journal musings of its young protagonist, a young woman who has lost all of her family and her confidence in God as a result. An elderly neighbor also provides a point of view as the two become family to one another. From these two perspectives, we view lives well lived in a small town, quietly and faithfully remaining true to themselves and their roots. Faith is rediscovered, and a good and heroic heart lives for God and country. I loved the gentle pace of this tale and how L.B. Johnson drew characters we truly care for and admire. I wish the world contained more people like these.
L.B. Johnson's novel is about self-discovery in a small town. What really shines is less the story line than the psychological exploration of the heroine. That exploration (and her lush writing style) makes the characters come to life. Indeed, it makes us consider our own lives - as someone who has a family member struggling with dementia, this bit about the heroine's mother and her struggle with Alzheimer's jumped at me.
"Initially, she had little moments of forgetfulness, like any person of her age, but she was such a bundle of energy, still active in church and volunteering, taking dance classes, working in the garden. Then one morning, out of the blue, she came into the kitchen and sat down, looking at me and I realized she did not have a clue as to who I was. What struck me was not that but the look on her face as she realized this, realized she should know."
Johnson's ability to make you stop reading and think about your own life is remarkable, and is spread throughout the book. This about a rescue dog is one of a million similar gems:
"On my couch is the form of a little black dog. I do not know why Clyde was a stray. He responds with great plaintiff urgency to the sound of small children laughing, looking around for them as to say "my kids, my kids" only to get this look of pure sadness when he sees they are strangers. The first time I witnessed it, I cried."
Johnson tells you a story not by telling it, but by showing you these scenes, one after another. I found it a slow book to read because I would suddenly snap back from where I had been mentally wandering, remembering a time when I too had had an experience like what was being described.
This book asks big questions: What is it to be human? What is it to live the Good Life? What is it to leave that Good Life?
I cannot recommend this book more highly.
This is a wonderfully sincere book by a gifted author. She artfully paints a picture of small-town life in which neighbors help one another, friendships span generational boundaries, and life is not lived in anonymity.
If I write in a book or dog ear page corners it is an honor to the author. It means they have written something I found artistically poignant and want to remember. My copy of L.B. Johnson’s book, “Small Town Roads” now has many page corners bent and lines marking passages. May you find her words just as memorable and moving.
A good read. I felt like I knew the characters personally.
LB Johnson, author of the best-seller "The Book of Barkley", has done it again. This heart-warming, true to life story of a young woman who finds herself pursuing a career in law enforcement, but in a small town instead of the big city she'd imagined. John Lennon famously wrote, "Life is what happens while you're busy making other plans." But with the help of a neighbor, life, and the persistent nudging of the Holy Spirit, she finds herself opening up to an existence she'd never considered. Highly recommended.
Great author, I have her other two books, The Book of Barkley and Saving Grace; very impressed with how she can describe the situation and you are there.
Rachel Raines is looking for a place to hide a heart full of loss, and a quieter patrol than Chicago. The bequest of her aunt's house seems like the perfect opportunity for both, if she can survive the gigantic spiders, creaky plumbing, and inevitable challenges of being the rookie on a small town force. Down the street, her aunt's best friend, Evelyn Ahlgren, marks the passing of seasons and neighbors, long mired in her loneliness as a widow. When the young woman with scars of her own befriends her, they strike up an unlikely friendship across generations that just might help them both heal.
A beautifully told, heartwarming story of finding the best in people and the small towns, this book is like finding a treasure in an old attic. Enjoy!
Sometimes heroes are not bronze muscled doers of great deeds. Sometimes heroism is getting out of bed when every joint hurts, and doing a difficult job when everyone else turns their back, and knowing there are a thousand days ahead of you just like this one with few breaks and fewer opportunities for joy. Sometimes heroism is having a big heart when having any heart at all seems to be a liability. Most of us never have the opportunity to be the type of hero action movies are made about, but we all can be heroic in our day to day lives just by caring. That is what lies at the core of this book, and the big heart and caring shine through.
I opened this book eagerly. L.B. Johnson writes with ease and experience, openly sharing the truth of life in concepts and images all too real, yet lyrical.
Examples that light up a scene and illuminate the story:
"... a statement of endurance too abundant for human speech ..."
"... colorful wildflowers splashed on the ground ..."
"...the odor of a whetted knife carving shadows into the night..."
Johnson uses the present tense, a confident author's voice that's an immediate witness, up close and personal. The story is a first-person account by an intelligent young woman, alone, a new cop with big city experience transplanted to a small town, after inheriting her elderly aunt's home, an old house cluttered with bittersweet childhood memories.
Joining a small town police force means dealing with gruesome tragedies up close, mishaps typical of a small town, death and injuries that devastate loved ones. Johnson's young female cop tussles with the hardship of loneliness, and she uses this fictional first person journal to speak of her faith, devotion to duty, and the abundant human warmth of Small Town Roads.
This book is in one word, rich. The imagery is vibrant, you feel as if you know the characters. It is a tender, lovely story told from the heart. I've read this author's other efforts and this doesn't disappoint. Not a quick read but so worth the time to curl up and get lost in the vibrancy.
Having read the author's other two books, I was excited to pick up her first fiction piece. This book has a similar feel to her previous works, with warm and flowing descriptions, meriting multiple re-reads to catch all the nuances of her prose. I was curious how the issues of faith would be handled, this being published by a Christian publishing house. In fact, it was a sublime and personal handling of faith. Her characters are well fleshed out, and interesting, as they explore loss, life, and love across generations.
This book would make a fine Christmas gift, for the well-read teen on up to your grandparents. And as a plus, the author also donates profits from her book sales to various charitable animal rescues and other animal service organizations.
Thursday, August 31, 2017
My novella -- "Freedom's Ride" -- soon to be featured in
When California declares independence, their dreams of socialist diversity become nightmares for many from the high Sierras to the Central Valley. Follow the lives of those who must decide whether to stand their ground or flee!
In San Diego, the commander of Naval Special Warfare Group One finds his hands tied by red tape, even as protesters storm the base and attack dependents. In Los Angeles, an airline mechanic must beg, borrow, or bribe to get his family on the plane out before the last flight out.
Elsewhere, a couple seeks out the new underground railroad after being forced to confess to crimes they didn't commit. In the new state of Jefferson, farmers must defend themselves against carpetbaggers and border raiders.
And in the high Sierras, a woman must make the decision to walk out alone...
There are stories by many well-known authors you will recognize along with a couple of new authors, It was a great group of men and women to work on this with and I think we are all very proud of the effort and the organization by J.L Curtis in making it happen. Thank you, everyone, for supporting it.
Click on the colored links above to order from Amazon.
Thursday, August 3, 2017
The Speak Up Talk Radio Interviews fund the SewPort project which provides handcrafted bedding items (pillowcases ) to soldiers serving overseas where a bit of homemade cheer lifts the spirits, as well as shelters for the homeless, domestic violence shelters and cage comforters and cat-nippers to rescue shelters. So for that, I've been proud to be interviewed twice, knowing my author fee and those that donate after listening is doing a lot to provide comfort to those in need.
For the interview where I talk about the writing process and my latest fiction characters (in a voice I'm told sounds like "Erma Bomback"), the link is here.
Tuesday, February 21, 2017
Small Town Roads, my first fiction novel after two non-fiction books, was one of four selected by NPR WNIJ/WNIU for their 2017 Spring Read Series and I was interviewed AND read an excerpt for the Series. (Note: there are two links on the page, one for the excerpt that was picked by the station and one for the actual interview). Thank you WNIJ and Dan Klefstad - it was an honor.
Saturday, November 5, 2016
Published now with special thanks to my editor Stephanie Martin.To Order.
The book will be at Barnes and Noble and in Christian bookstores soon but it is on Amazon now and just $2.99 for the Kindle.
The book will be at Barnes and Noble and in Christian bookstores soon but it is on Amazon now and just $2.99 for the Kindle.
Evelyn Ahlgren, a widow and retired teacher, enjoys the quiet comforts of her tranquil neighborhood. That’s why she is intrigued to see what her new neighbor, rookie police officer Rachel Raines, will add to their charming small town.
Rachel had big-city plans that hadn't included inheriting a tiny home in a rural community, a place with no coffee baristas and where the town’s only restaurant had a giant plastic cow on the roof.
Evelyn believes that God brought the two together to find renewed purposes in His will, and they begin an unlikely friendship that surpasses age and experiences. When an unexpected act of violence impacts them both, their concept of faith and family is tested with life-changing results.
Small Town Roads, by best-selling author L.B. Johnson, accurately depicts the feeling of small town life, where residents know each other’s names and become neighbors, and friends, for a lifetime.
L.B. Johnson has a Ph.D. in Criminal Justice and lives in Chicago with her engineer husband and rescue black Lab.
Tuesday, April 28, 2015
April 22, 2015. From the Author of the Amazon #1 Best Seller The Book of Barkley - Love and Life Through the Eyes of a Labrador Retriever - a story crafted from the heart and soul of a mother who wasn't a Mom.
It started with a piece of paper--a birth certificate, sent to the author's parents long after her birth. There is much history in that piece of paper. For she was born to an unwed mother in the generation prior to Roe v. Wade, on a warm day in August-a small, painful beginning in which she had been an unwilling participant, yet one that would shape her destiny. She is adopted into a loving home with another child that would become her beloved brother. She finds herself pregnant; she's a teen and a college student, abandoned at the news. The options are obvious, but there is only one decision she could make: to give her child up to a family praying for one, and walking away. Saving Grace is more than a story of adoption. It's a deep look into family-at hope and faith and why we end our days surrounded by souls that may not bear our name or share our blood, but who are our true family.
Available at Amazon (USA, Au, Japan, UK, and Italy) and Barnes and Noble.
Sunday, April 26, 2015
A Chapter From Small Town Roads - Xulon Press - Christmas 2016
We don’t have to speak for our intentions to be read.
We don’t have to speak for our intentions to be read.
Speech seems like a simple thing, a coordination of muscle and bone, nerves and tongue, something within us, just as the ability to control and guide both weapon and machine lay slumbering within the wrists and hands. We can stay silent, but the words are still there.
Man experiences things of great magnitude and cannot speak of them at all. An artist or craftsman creates something that was part of them, honed into art or machine. On completion, they say no words, they call no one, and they simply put down their tool, their brush, and stare at their vision, incarnate.
Veterans come home from battle empty of all words, bound together by only that identical experience which they can never forget and dare not speak of, lest by speaking of darkness, they are wrapped in its chains. First responders and law enforcement officers often relate as they too see so much death that never again, as long as they breathe, will they ever truly go to sleep alone.
Man experiences the mundane, the meaningless, tweeting and texting of it feverishly. It is as if, by doing so, inconsequential acts become more than the passing of time by the imminently bored. The words can uplift but they can also sting like so many insects, their incessant noise, finally dimming to a hum.
We speak in different languages, and even when speaking the same language, we often don’t communicate, and when we do, we often don’t truly mean what we say. Promises can be nothing more than words and oaths empty air, especially when election times near, wherein contests of fierce and empty oratory are somehow, retroactively, supposed to make us believe, any more than they can make us forget.
We speak in the language of the past, chants unchanged in generations hanging in the air as God is placed into a golden cup, there underneath the eyes of angels. We speak in the language of silent prayer, calling upon God and our reserves, saying prayers without words, as we draw near our weapon as we enter what could be hell on earth.
Words can support, they can heal, with gentle utterance after a nightmare in the still of the night, the soothing voice that smoothes the frayed edges of a day with nothing more than the touch of supple prose. Words can injure, cutting like a knife, discharging like a spark of electricity, those words, from someone we love, marking us always with their wounding.
Words, a movement of lips and tongue that can cause laughter or pain; that can divide or conquer. Even in a nation where English is the official language, in parts of our country, there are whole neighborhoods where you won’t hear it spoken.
Sometimes one doesn’t need to speak at all.
On any given day, tragedy and the earth collide, flood, tornado, the plunging of a mighty machine into a peaceful neighborhood. The details differ, but the response is always the same. When disaster strikes, the land itself turns mute and those that remain, stand simply as silent instruments unable to make a sound.
I didn’t fully understand that until the tornado came through our town last night, leveling several homes a mile or so north, leaving others, like mine and most of my neighbors, miraculously standing. We were lucky, in that there were no deaths, the majority of the homes having basements and a good tornado warning system. But as we came up from our basement, our house untouched but for a tree that took out the front porch, it was as if what I viewed was a completely different town.
Harry, my elderly friend from across the street, was on the sidewalk, Evelyn holding on to him, shaken but unhurt. Ezekiel and Miriam waved from down the block, his shop roof damaged but the structure intact. But just down from Harry’s home, Betty, the widow that lives there stood in front of what remained of her house of 60 years. It was one set further back from the road than the others, the back portion of the house completely missing its roof and some walls, not even a photo of her failed dreams, left where the wind rushed through those rooms. She cried silently, in the faded robe she fled in, as one of the neighbors came over and put her arms around her. Behind all of the homes across the street from us, there were so many trees downed, limbs flung through windows, shattering them as if they were thrown like a lance.
A young woman, her face growing older by the minute, stumbled from the walkout basement of the home that had sold when I moved in, a solitary figure, clutching only a stuffed animal, making a path towards what is known. Her brother, off in military service, was letting her live there to care for the place while she attended a community college in a town not too far east of us. We beckoned her to come over to us, and though I am probably only ten years older than she, like Evelyn does with me, I hold her in a mother’s protective embrace.
The older couple from the corner of the block lost a brand new outbuilding they had painstakingly constructed behind their house. They now could only look at the work of their sweat and tears strewn about for miles by the force of nature, the wind thick and warm, like blood spilled, pooling around what little remains. A lone tree stood among so many that were downed, torn out by the roots, its nervous branches bent down as if hoping not to be noticed.
The first responders arrived, standing for just a moment, still and mute, hands unmoving beneath the invisible stain of what was, always, needless blood. For just a moment they stopped, as if by whispered breath or the movement of disturbed air, what little remains, would crumble.
They gathered, moving in and around, the firefighters, emergency medical personnel, law enforcement officers, wearing blue and black and yellow. Such garments, solemnly worn, exchanged for lives that used to be ordinary, worn as they shape something from chaos, coercing that terrible blood wind to give up a sound, the forlorn echo of someone who might have survived underneath the carnage. I waved at an officer I worked with, seeing the relief in his eyes that I was unhurt, feeling like I should be doing something more to help. I realized that I was still in shock as I held my neighbor to me to comfort as beneath my bathrobe my precious child lay safe.
It’s surprising how much noise there was in the silence, of hope, of grief, of disbelief. It was a sound which one could almost, but not quite, capture, receding like dwindling song until there were only the shadows and the quiet. And then a small voice, “Can anyone help me?” low and faint as the Vespers of sleep. It came from a home that didn’t have a walkout basement, and a tree had gone through the sunroom. I had been there, and that would have blocked the basement stairs. Hopefully, the person is fine and can get out once the tree was moved.
Survivors and saviors, moved without sound, sending a message as loudly to the heavens as if they were one voice. People were helped from the rubble, the injured accessed, the grief-stricken comforted as best as one could, if only by a touch that resonated straight to the heart, bypassing a brain that could not accept its fate. There were no Teleprompters, there were no cue cards, and there were no words for boundless grief and regret. There was no language for this, no word, no sound; it’s defiant and imminent life, holding on.
Friday, April 24, 2015
2015 Indie B.R.A.G. Medallion Honoree and winner of Silver in the Readers Favorite International Book Awards. Gripping Memoir, Hailed "An Instant Classic" by Critics, Shares Journey of Love & Life through the Inspirational Eyes of Man's Best Friend...
Crafted from the heart and experiences of L.B. Johnson, 'The Book of Barkley: Love and Life Through the Eyes of a Labrador Retriever' takes readers from the author's depths of grief and personal despair to an empowering new life chock-full of love. But Johnson's radical life change didn't come from just her renewed faith in God or her friends, but instead from some additional help of a black Labrador called Barkley who taught her the real, innate meaning of love
In a wholly-unique and uplifting new memoir, Johnson tells the deeply-personal story of her life and experiences with a rambunctious Labrador Retriever named Barkley. It's not just a story of one woman and her dog, but a bold journey to discover what love really is, and why learning to live like a dog gives humanity a powerful new meaning.
Monday, April 20, 2015
No one but you and I understands
what faithfulness is.
what faithfulness is.
Do not let me die until, for them,
all danger is driven away.
all danger is driven away.
Carmon Bernos de Gaesztold, The Prayer for the Dog
Thank you for supporting the books of L.B. Johnson. Through your purchase, another animal may find safety or a purpose as 100% of all book sale profits are donated to animal rescue and support groups including Search Dog Foundation, Kevlar for K9s, American Dog Rescue, PAWS of Chicago, Chicagoland Lab Rescue, Lab Rescue of the LRCP, Waldo's Muttley Crew in Indianapolis, Midwest Lab Retriever Rescue, Love of Labs Indiana, Lucky Pup Dog Rescue in San Diego, and so many other animal non-profits.