Snark & Sensibility

PLEASE WELCOME

JILL ANN MAI

TO

FICTION FRIDAY

THE AUTHOR’S STORY

Mind Your Business . . . Franklin’s Way

Did my subject line come across the wrong way? I promise my intention was not to offend you, but I can certainly understand if that’s how you felt.

If the topic made you frown a little, then I bet you’re like me and associate the phrase with something negative. Has someone ever told you to “mind your business” because you’ve crossed some sort of line? Or maybe you were the one who said these very words to someone else. I’ll admit I’ve been on both sides at one time or another. Little did I know that the term “mind my business” actually holds a very different meaning in history. And wouldn’t you know—it’s a positive one.

The words "Mind Your Business" can be found on the Fugio cent, aka the Franklin cent. Yes, Benjamin Franklin is credited with the cent's design, and this coin was the first circulating coin of the United States, minted in 1787. But Franklin‘s words were not meant as a way of telling people to keep their noses out of others' affairs. His advice was aimed more at keeping focused and doing our best in our own industries and personal lives. If we do, things should go well for us.

Perhaps Franklin had the words of Paul from 1 Thessalonians 4:11-12 (NIV) in mind when the idea for his creation took shape:

“Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life, to mind your own business and to work with your hands, just as we told you, so that your daily life may win the respect of outsiders and so that you will not be dependent on anybody.”

Additionally, fugio, in Latin means “I fly” or “I flee.” And it's no mistake that you’ll see a sundial on the side of the coin containing these words. In essence, the overall message is, “Time flies, so handle your accounts, and things should go well with you.”

As I’ve spent time reflecting on Franklin’s message, I can’t help noticing how deeply it connects to another struggle many of us share: the tension between playing a role and living authentically. The Fugio cent reminds us that time is short and our “business”—our purpose, our calling—is worth tending with honesty and integrity. Yet in life, it’s easy to slip into who we think we should be instead of who God has actually shaped us to be.

In my novel, A Heart’s Charade, Charlotte faces this constantly. In Paris, she adopts the role she believes will open doors and protect her family back home in the colonies, but the very act of pretending pulls her further from the woman she truly is. Like the coin’s quiet warning—time flies—her story wrestles with how costly it can be when we trade authenticity for appearances, even with the best intentions.

Maybe Franklin understood that, too: that minding our business isn’t just about industry or staying focused, but about tending to the person we’re becoming. About choosing substance over spectacle and about doing the real work God has entrusted to us instead of performing for a watching world.

And if you’re wondering whether Benjamin Franklin walks onto the page, wonder no further. He does.

ABOUT A HEART’S CHARADE 

A Heart’s Charade is Book 2 of my Refined Through Fire series.  This historical romance can be read on its own, following the main story of its central characters, but is better enjoyed after reading Book 1: Love Beyond the Ashes. Each book in the series is set during the Revolutionary War and follows the journey of three siblings as they navigate and cope with the unexpected in a conflict they didn’t ask for.

 EXCERPT FROM A Heart’s Charade

“Captain Edwards?” With something akin to confusion and surprise, Nicholas watched cautiously as Charlotte lowered the fire poker from the middle of his chest.

“I didn’t realize you were no longer staying with Louise at the dentelle.” The floral scent he’d smelled before grew stronger with the door ajar. “I only stopped here because I saw a light coming from the door.”

She deposited the weapon beside the doorpost just inside the room when he noticed smudges of ink on her fingertips. “Yes, well, it was time to give Louise her bed back. Not to mention I missed my things.” She stepped back into the room, allowing him full view of her trunk that was currently open on the rug. She gave him a relieved smile. “Thank you for bringing back my luggage.” 

“You’re welcome.”

Besides the unpacked suitcase, a handle-less porcelain teacup sat on a side table, where he ventured the floral smell originated. By the looks of things, she’d made the small table into a makeshift working space—a leather-bound notebook sat open to reveal the beginnings of intricate drawings.

He took another evaluation of her smudged fingers, putting together what he’d learned at the dentelle. “Are those for the lacemakers?” 

She looked behind her as if to follow his line of sight back to the table. She sighed, shaking her head. “They’re not complete. In truth, I’m just getting started . . . trying to get my thoughts together with what might stand out.” 

She motioned for him to come in, but he hesitated. He wasn’t the sort of man to walk into a woman’s quarters, even if invited. 

“It’s all right, Captain.” His pause appeared to have put a smile on her face. “I’m quite confident you’re incapable of any ill intentions. Normally, I’m set against a man setting foot in my room, but I’m certain you’ll hold fast to your untarnished reputation. I have nothing to worry about.”

She didn’t, but it wasn’t his untarnished reputation on his mind. “I appreciate the trust—” Even in the scoffing way she’d voiced it. “—but I’d like to make sure your own reputation remains likewise. I’ll admire them from here.” 

She gave him a cockeyed look, then huffed. “Really, Captain, I doubt you have one black spec against your character. Are you as perfect as Jesus Christ?”

He frowned, not liking her tone, but also in the way she meant to compare him with a man who couldn’t be compared to—out of reach, apart from the grace given to him. “Far from it, Miss Thatcher.” 

She stared at him, her blue eyes penetrating. He thought she might ask him to leave or even shut the door in his face, neither of which would have surprised him. But she didn’t. She turned and walked to the temporary desk, picking up the notebook before returning to the doorway where she’d left him.

Without a word, she handed him the notebook. He read her face, looking for confirmation, and she gave a single nod. 

The designs were rough, at the beginning stages of their development but had potential. Amazement ran through him, wondering how a woman so bent on blind action could make herself sit down long enough to create such intricate drawings.

He went through the notebook, skimming through the sketches, aware of her watchful gaze on him. “They’re good.”

“They’re a start.”

He looked up from the pages to find her shaking her head. “But they’re not good enough, not yet.”

Something rolled in his stomach. Nicholas knew she was only evaluating her work, but hearing those words—‘not good enough’—was a constant replay in his head.

Her eyes held a spark of determination.

“They’ll get there once I fine-tune them.” 

Despite their vast differences, Nicholas admired the woman’s confidence. If he wasn’t careful, he’d have to admit it was a quality he liked about her. That was, when she wasn’t consistently against him.

WHERE TO FIND A HEART’S CHARADE

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ABOUT JILL ANN MAI

Jill has had a fondness for books since middle school and a relationship with Christ most of her life, but it has been in recent years that she's discovered the impact of that relationship. As an ongoing student of both literature and the Word of God, it is her privilege to write fiction set in the past, that she prays, points her readers to the hope found in Christ. Apart from writing and editing, Jill spends most of her time with her amazing husband and two daughters who are full of life. She enjoys spending time with her family, traveling, and having a good conversation over an equally good cup of coffee. 

Jill is also a member of the American Christian Fiction Writers Association and The Christian PEN.

Find Jill at http://www.jillannmai.com/