I had a Eureka! moment this week. Actually, I’ve had a few of those in the past couple of weeks. Some have been mundane (like, Eureka! If I fill and run the dishwasher before I go to bed at night I’m less stressed the next morning.) Most have been writing related. And after seven years of consistent wrestling with my writing, it’s about time!
You see, six years ago this November, I actually finished a novel. Well, almost a novel. 50,000 words, to be exact. Until then, I’d never finished much of anything—only a few of the creative writing assignments for school, because, after all, they received a grade! Then began the arduous task of editing, of adding and subtracting to make the novel what it should be. Then I began and finished another one. Then another one. Each one I approached with a little more knowledge and a little different method to my madness. But each one fell short of the mark in some aspect.
What do to? I’ve spent the first eight months of this year asking myself and the Lord this question. My understanding of craft has grown greatly, but I still wasn’t able to grasp how best to accomplish my goals of getting the stories in my head down on the page. So I’ve grappled in fits and starts. And then I hit Eureka euphoria.
You see, I’ve been listening to and reading about how other authors budget their time and approach this monumental task of telling a story with compelling characters and a page turning plot over the course of 80,000 or 90,000 words. And slowly, slowly, I’ve been meshing them all into the plan that works for me. Finally, I think, I’ve hit upon the plan that fits my lifestyle and my temperament, that combines planned and organic elements.
What is this revelation that is revolutionizing and energizing my writing? Well, like any good author, I’ll leave you hanging until next time . . .
8/30/2007
8/23/2007
You can buy an autographed copy of Mary DeMuth's insightful book, Authentic Parenting in a Post-Modern Cultureby clicking on the link.
It's been a very busy week for me, but the kids are off to school today (woohoo!) so I should be around more consistently starting Monday!
8/20/2007
A Recommended Parenting Book
I don’t read parenting books. At least that’s what I decided after my first child never followed the prescribed patterns (child does X, parent does Y, child’s behavior changes). So I find it quite humorous that God connected me with two very wonderful writers who write—you guessed it—parenting books!
Today I’d like to tell you about Mary DeMuth’s latest non-fiction title (she writes fiction, too). Authentic Parenting in a Postmodern Culture (Harvest House, 2007) is not your typical parenting book. Much like her first parenting book, Building the Christian Family You Never Had (Waterbrook, 2006), Authentic Parenting in a Postmodern Culture isn’t a prescriptive parenting book. Instead of giving formulaic answers to specific situations, Mary insightfully and scripturally encourages us as parents to shift our thinking about how we are preparing our children to face the changing world.
Mary first encourages parents to deepen their own walk with Jesus. Only with His wisdom and strength can we ever hope to guide each child into our ultimate goal for them: to know the Lord on their own. This involves being real with our children, allowing them to see our failings, hear our apologies, and witness our changes. It also involves seeing our children as valuable not only for who they are but for how God uses them to teach us more about Him and more about the life of faith.
But Mary goes beyond looking at ourselves as parents. She encourages us to understand that we are called to come alongside our tweens and teens, conversing and coaching through the ups and downs of life, so that they learn not only to grab hold of their own faith and live it out, but also learn patterns of life that will help them navigate a postmodern society which values things like relationship and communication. By using creative, everyday things, we can ground our children in the truth of the Word of God and nurture their souls, preparing them to do the work God has for them in this broken world.
I recommend this book for any parent out there, but especially for those in or entering the tween and teen years, where so much grappling with how to walk out a relationship with Christ is done.
Be sure to check out the other blogs participating on the Authentic Parenting Tour this week. For a complete listing of the blogs participating in the six week tour, visit here.
Ane Mulligan
A Peek at My Bookshelf
Candle Blog
Declaring His Marvelous Work
Generation NeXT Parenting
GraceReign
Holy Experience
Hopeful Happenings
In the Dailies
Leap of Faith
Lift My Noise
Llama Momma
sprightly
Soul Scents
Spaghettipie
The View from Here
Write On Edge
8/13/2007
Two Movies
In a quite unusual turn of events, we saw TWO movies at the theatre this weekend. The contrast between the two was worlds beyond their settings (modern day NYC and the 19th century English countyside.)
I wanted so much to like No Reservations. I wanted it to become one of my new favorites, alongside the likes of You’ve Got Mail and While You Were Sleeping. It sounded so appealing—two chefs, one orphaned child. But, alas, it was not to be. There was just so little emotional pull. I still don’t know if it was the screenplay or the acting, but whatever it was, it didn’t move me to care enough about the characters. In fact, the storyline was much like a movie I liked—Raising Helen—which had tons of emotion. Besides the lack of pulling me in, the two main characters’ budding relationship flowered much too early, and too easily.
No Reservations could learn a bit from Becoming Jane. Becoming Jane is a charming film about Jane Austen before classic literature spilled from her pen. There was emotion. There was romance. There was the heat of a look that sends chills to my toes—something two kissing faces and a closed door couldn’t do in No Reservations. I’m sure much of this story was fictionalized, but it was based on Jane’s experiences which, in turn, colored her fiction. It was fun to watch characters which resembled those in her books and wonder how close they were in real life to the characters we cherish even now. And the best part? Watching it with my willing husband—one of only 2 men in the theatre!!
I wanted so much to like No Reservations. I wanted it to become one of my new favorites, alongside the likes of You’ve Got Mail and While You Were Sleeping. It sounded so appealing—two chefs, one orphaned child. But, alas, it was not to be. There was just so little emotional pull. I still don’t know if it was the screenplay or the acting, but whatever it was, it didn’t move me to care enough about the characters. In fact, the storyline was much like a movie I liked—Raising Helen—which had tons of emotion. Besides the lack of pulling me in, the two main characters’ budding relationship flowered much too early, and too easily.
No Reservations could learn a bit from Becoming Jane. Becoming Jane is a charming film about Jane Austen before classic literature spilled from her pen. There was emotion. There was romance. There was the heat of a look that sends chills to my toes—something two kissing faces and a closed door couldn’t do in No Reservations. I’m sure much of this story was fictionalized, but it was based on Jane’s experiences which, in turn, colored her fiction. It was fun to watch characters which resembled those in her books and wonder how close they were in real life to the characters we cherish even now. And the best part? Watching it with my willing husband—one of only 2 men in the theatre!!
8/11/2007
Playing Editor
I’m playing editor these days. I’m trying to get my own first 25 pages polished to send in for a paid critique. I’m editing my friend Tamitha’s YA novel to send to an editor who asked to see it. And I’m editing my friend Mary's third novel, due soon at the publisher.
I enjoy editing. It makes me a better writer, and, in turn, a better editor! And in the case of editing other people’s work, I get to read some great stories in the process. I’m glad that the things I’ve learned about writing in the past 7 years can be put to use helping those on their first novel, like Tamitha, as well as veterans like Mary, with 5 published books under her belt and four more due at the publisher.
Whatever else the Lord has planned for my writing, I know this is one way I can be a blessing to the body of Christ and have a hand in getting His message out to those who need it.
I enjoy editing. It makes me a better writer, and, in turn, a better editor! And in the case of editing other people’s work, I get to read some great stories in the process. I’m glad that the things I’ve learned about writing in the past 7 years can be put to use helping those on their first novel, like Tamitha, as well as veterans like Mary, with 5 published books under her belt and four more due at the publisher.
Whatever else the Lord has planned for my writing, I know this is one way I can be a blessing to the body of Christ and have a hand in getting His message out to those who need it.
8/06/2007
And the Countdown Begins . . .
Hey y’all!
I’m trying to get my daughter to do a post or two about her trip, but pinning down a sixteen-year-old can be like trying to corral the wind!
Anyway, I’m gearing up for school to start. And the countdown begins. Only two and half weeks left! Woohoo! We still have several appointments to keep before then, football two-a-days begin today, and of course school supplies are yet to be bought, but I’m already thinking schedules and blocking out my writing time for the school year. I’m limiting my school involvement this year in order to find more time to write, but that’s okay since I no longer have any kids in the elementary grades!!!
I thrive on routine, so I’m chomping at the bit for it to begin again. Routine and a quiet house. I’ve almost forgotten what they feel like.
I’m trying to get my daughter to do a post or two about her trip, but pinning down a sixteen-year-old can be like trying to corral the wind!
Anyway, I’m gearing up for school to start. And the countdown begins. Only two and half weeks left! Woohoo! We still have several appointments to keep before then, football two-a-days begin today, and of course school supplies are yet to be bought, but I’m already thinking schedules and blocking out my writing time for the school year. I’m limiting my school involvement this year in order to find more time to write, but that’s okay since I no longer have any kids in the elementary grades!!!
I thrive on routine, so I’m chomping at the bit for it to begin again. Routine and a quiet house. I’ve almost forgotten what they feel like.
8/01/2007
Home
I’m home.
That phrase took on new meaning for me Monday night. We’d been to visit family on the east coast for 10 days. It was, in many ways, a good trip. We celebrated my husband’s grandmother’s 80th birthday (12 great-grandchildren were in attendance). We visited with aunts and uncles and cousins as well as parents, grandmothers, a sister and brother-in-law, a nephew and a five-week-old niece. We went to the beach, the boardwalk, played mini golf. The kids fished. My husband and I read a lot.
But it wasn’t paradise by any stretch of the imagination. Sleeping conditions were less than ideal both in terms of space, comfortable beds, and temperature. For us Texans used to summering the heat with blasts of the AC, no AC proved a challenge, especially in 95% humidity! I confess, it made me grumpy in the end. Add to that being at the beach (in the same house) with thirteen people, including the newborn, a three-year-old, and a 92-year-old grandmother, all of whom we had to feed three times a day and things got a bit hairy. I like my space and I didn’t get much of it.
By the time we hit Baltimore for 24 hours of just our family before catching our flight home, we were exhausted and I just wanted to be in my own house. A rain delay at the airport meant that didn’t happen until nearly midnight on Monday. But as I lay in my own bed, I felt the grin on my face and I thanked the Lord that I was home.
That’s when it hit me. The joy of coming home.
I confess that I’ve never been one that “longs” for heaven. In my younger years, as I dealt with issues of rejection and unworthiness, I feared heaven, feared I wouldn’t be let in or, worse yet, would be tossed out. Later, as I truly understood the love of God and accepted as truth how He sees me now, heaven didn’t scare me, but I didn’t necessarily long for it, either. Monday night I understood.
This life is like our trip—we live with people we love, enjoying them, enduring them, surviving often less-than-ideal conditions, reveling in those occasional rapturous moments, but all the while knowing we can (and must) endure because it is only a short time until we will be where we belong, in a place that feels familiar and safe and comfortable and peaceful.
So our family is at home now. All together again. I’m happy but tired and swamped with things to catch up on. And I have a new inkling of the satisfaction that will come when I finish my sojourn on this earth and take up my citizenship in my true home—heaven.
(At least when I get there I won’t have to deal with mounds of laundry or mail—or an empty pantry!)
That phrase took on new meaning for me Monday night. We’d been to visit family on the east coast for 10 days. It was, in many ways, a good trip. We celebrated my husband’s grandmother’s 80th birthday (12 great-grandchildren were in attendance). We visited with aunts and uncles and cousins as well as parents, grandmothers, a sister and brother-in-law, a nephew and a five-week-old niece. We went to the beach, the boardwalk, played mini golf. The kids fished. My husband and I read a lot.
But it wasn’t paradise by any stretch of the imagination. Sleeping conditions were less than ideal both in terms of space, comfortable beds, and temperature. For us Texans used to summering the heat with blasts of the AC, no AC proved a challenge, especially in 95% humidity! I confess, it made me grumpy in the end. Add to that being at the beach (in the same house) with thirteen people, including the newborn, a three-year-old, and a 92-year-old grandmother, all of whom we had to feed three times a day and things got a bit hairy. I like my space and I didn’t get much of it.
By the time we hit Baltimore for 24 hours of just our family before catching our flight home, we were exhausted and I just wanted to be in my own house. A rain delay at the airport meant that didn’t happen until nearly midnight on Monday. But as I lay in my own bed, I felt the grin on my face and I thanked the Lord that I was home.
That’s when it hit me. The joy of coming home.
I confess that I’ve never been one that “longs” for heaven. In my younger years, as I dealt with issues of rejection and unworthiness, I feared heaven, feared I wouldn’t be let in or, worse yet, would be tossed out. Later, as I truly understood the love of God and accepted as truth how He sees me now, heaven didn’t scare me, but I didn’t necessarily long for it, either. Monday night I understood.
This life is like our trip—we live with people we love, enjoying them, enduring them, surviving often less-than-ideal conditions, reveling in those occasional rapturous moments, but all the while knowing we can (and must) endure because it is only a short time until we will be where we belong, in a place that feels familiar and safe and comfortable and peaceful.
So our family is at home now. All together again. I’m happy but tired and swamped with things to catch up on. And I have a new inkling of the satisfaction that will come when I finish my sojourn on this earth and take up my citizenship in my true home—heaven.
(At least when I get there I won’t have to deal with mounds of laundry or mail—or an empty pantry!)
7/20/2007
She's Home!!
My daughter is home from Ghana with incredible stories to tell--and I'm sure those we're just the tip of the iceberg! I can't wait to hear more in the coming days. Thanks for praying!
Tagged for Reader and Writer Questions
My friend Richard tagged me on this writing-related questionnaire, so here goes:
1. What's the one book or writing project you haven't yet written but still hope to?
A novel loosely based on my grandmother’s experience (as a child) of the 1917 Influenza pandemic.
2. If you had one entire day in which to do nothing but read, what book would you start with?
Hmm. My “to read” bookshelf is full of fun and eclectic authors like Maeve Binchy, Lisa Samson, Susan Meissner, John Le Carre, Alexander McCall Smith, Daphne Du Maurier, Anne Perry, and others. And of course there are the classics that I love and the ones I still want to read. And a slew of YA books I would re-read and others I’d like to experience. And then there are the new titles I’m waiting for from some of my favorite authors. So to answer the question: it would depend on my mood for that day!
3. What was your first writing "instrument" (besides pen and paper)?
I went straight from paper and pen to a computer. My short typewriter phase only produced papers for my college classes.
4. What's your best guess as to how many books you read in a month?
I know this, because I keep a list! The average for a year is 5 a month. The most has been something like 10, usually in the summer.
5. What's your favorite writing "machine" you've ever owned?
I’m not sure I’ve had a “favorite.” All of my computers have been adequately functional.
6. Think historical fiction: what's your favorite time period in which to read? (And if you don't read historical fiction--shame on you.)
I never have just one! I love many of the “war” eras—Revolutionary, Civil, WWI, WWII. I also enjoy Regency and Victorian.
7. What's the one book you remember most clearly from your youth (childhood or teens)?
I hate these “one book” questions! My answer is the whole Little House on the Prairie set. I think I’ve read through them upwards of twenty times—and still re-read them every couple of years!
So now you know a little more about me as a reader and a writer. I’m supposed to tag other bloggers now, so Tina, Robin, and Heather, let’s hear your answers!
1. What's the one book or writing project you haven't yet written but still hope to?
A novel loosely based on my grandmother’s experience (as a child) of the 1917 Influenza pandemic.
2. If you had one entire day in which to do nothing but read, what book would you start with?
Hmm. My “to read” bookshelf is full of fun and eclectic authors like Maeve Binchy, Lisa Samson, Susan Meissner, John Le Carre, Alexander McCall Smith, Daphne Du Maurier, Anne Perry, and others. And of course there are the classics that I love and the ones I still want to read. And a slew of YA books I would re-read and others I’d like to experience. And then there are the new titles I’m waiting for from some of my favorite authors. So to answer the question: it would depend on my mood for that day!
3. What was your first writing "instrument" (besides pen and paper)?
I went straight from paper and pen to a computer. My short typewriter phase only produced papers for my college classes.
4. What's your best guess as to how many books you read in a month?
I know this, because I keep a list! The average for a year is 5 a month. The most has been something like 10, usually in the summer.
5. What's your favorite writing "machine" you've ever owned?
I’m not sure I’ve had a “favorite.” All of my computers have been adequately functional.
6. Think historical fiction: what's your favorite time period in which to read? (And if you don't read historical fiction--shame on you.)
I never have just one! I love many of the “war” eras—Revolutionary, Civil, WWI, WWII. I also enjoy Regency and Victorian.
7. What's the one book you remember most clearly from your youth (childhood or teens)?
I hate these “one book” questions! My answer is the whole Little House on the Prairie set. I think I’ve read through them upwards of twenty times—and still re-read them every couple of years!
So now you know a little more about me as a reader and a writer. I’m supposed to tag other bloggers now, so Tina, Robin, and Heather, let’s hear your answers!
7/16/2007
Sporatic Summer
I haven’t fallen off the face of the earth. Instead, I’ve taken two boys for their physicals and back and forth to football practices and the golf course. I’ve attended parties at friends’ houses, meet another friend for lunch, had some meetings at my kids’ school, celebrated both my sisters’ birthdays, attended two monthly critique groups and spent about five hours on the phone with the new mail order pharmacy company trying to get my prescription refills (which still aren’t here but are promised for tomorrow!)
A little writing has been done in between times. And my boys and I have almost finished our 1000 piece puzzle for the summer.
My daughter comes home on Thursday. (I’ve missed her so much!) We leave Saturday for a visit with my in-laws—meeting our brand-new niece, celebrating my husband’s grandmother’s eightieth birthday, and hanging out at the beach with my sister-in-law’s family for a few days.
Needless to say, my blogging will be sporadic until August. Ah, but the routine of the school year is close at hand!
A little writing has been done in between times. And my boys and I have almost finished our 1000 piece puzzle for the summer.
My daughter comes home on Thursday. (I’ve missed her so much!) We leave Saturday for a visit with my in-laws—meeting our brand-new niece, celebrating my husband’s grandmother’s eightieth birthday, and hanging out at the beach with my sister-in-law’s family for a few days.
Needless to say, my blogging will be sporadic until August. Ah, but the routine of the school year is close at hand!
7/10/2007
A Tidbit from Ghana
Last year, one of the most life-changing events my daughter experienced on her trip to Ghana was participating in passing out Operation Christmas Child boxes. It was a secret desire of her heart, one only the Lord could have orchestrated. It was the highlight of her trip—and maybe her life to that point.
In an update email from this year’s trip, I learned that an 8 x 10 picture of her passing out the boxes hangs outside the office of the director of World Vision in this region of Ghana. Wow! What an incredible gift to her! To have such an experience that you have treasured in your heart and then to discover that it meant enough to others, too, to warrant their constant remembrance of you in a picture must have been a bit overwhelming. And it must have been, again, a confirmation of God’s love for her and His pleasure at her service in His name.
In an update email from this year’s trip, I learned that an 8 x 10 picture of her passing out the boxes hangs outside the office of the director of World Vision in this region of Ghana. Wow! What an incredible gift to her! To have such an experience that you have treasured in your heart and then to discover that it meant enough to others, too, to warrant their constant remembrance of you in a picture must have been a bit overwhelming. And it must have been, again, a confirmation of God’s love for her and His pleasure at her service in His name.
7/09/2007
Looking forward
I have to admit, I’m jealous. I’m reading all these fun blog posts of people who are at ICRS (International Christian Retail Show) this week. It’s like looking through the glass at a party all your friends were invited to and you weren’t.
Now, granted, I have no reason to go—I have no book published or contracted. And I know that only a couple of said people are really my friends—the majority I know of or read their blogs or their books or both.
Still, it sounds fun. And I hate to be left out of fun, especially when it includes books and writerly people.
Maybe someday.
For now, I’ll just anticipate all the fun I’ll have with old writer friends and new at the ACFW conference in September.
Now, granted, I have no reason to go—I have no book published or contracted. And I know that only a couple of said people are really my friends—the majority I know of or read their blogs or their books or both.
Still, it sounds fun. And I hate to be left out of fun, especially when it includes books and writerly people.
Maybe someday.
For now, I’ll just anticipate all the fun I’ll have with old writer friends and new at the ACFW conference in September.
7/05/2007
Off to Ghana
My sixteen-year-old daughter leaves for Ghana, West Africa today. (She’s on the end of the front row, in the green shorts.) This will be her second trip. She is traveling with a group mostly from her school—four students (all will be juniors next year) and four adults. They will be gone from July 5-July 19.
If the Lord brings her to mind over the next couple of weeks, would you pray for her and the team she is with? They will be ministering in villages of an unreached people group and spending much of their time with the children of those villages. Please pray for seeds to be sown on good soil. They will also get to see the progress being made on a village church building that our school has raised the money to build.
This was a life-changing trip for her last year and I expect it will be so again. I’ll give you some highlights when she gets back.
If the Lord brings her to mind over the next couple of weeks, would you pray for her and the team she is with? They will be ministering in villages of an unreached people group and spending much of their time with the children of those villages. Please pray for seeds to be sown on good soil. They will also get to see the progress being made on a village church building that our school has raised the money to build.
This was a life-changing trip for her last year and I expect it will be so again. I’ll give you some highlights when she gets back.
7/03/2007
Rain, Rain Go Away
It’s almost sacrilegious to say this in Texas after the past two years of horrendous drought conditions, but I’m going to say it anyway:
I’m sick of rain!
Almost 11 inches in the month of July. Yesterday alone we had 3 inches in less than an hour, according to my parents’ rain gauge. I’m tired of gray, humid days. I’m tired of the kids being in the house all day. I’m tired of everything being wet, of our yard at jungle levels.
On occasion we see the sun, but it does little more than create a steam bath atmosphere. I never realized how much I took the sun in summer for granted, how much I depended on it for that happy summer feeling.
There is an upside, though. The temperature has rarely reached 90, let alone the customary 100s, so the electric bill has been a blessed bright spot (every pun intended!)
If you are in a rain-soaked state, I hope you dry out soon.
If you are in a place where you pray daily for rain to fall—-be careful what you pray for!
I’m sick of rain!
Almost 11 inches in the month of July. Yesterday alone we had 3 inches in less than an hour, according to my parents’ rain gauge. I’m tired of gray, humid days. I’m tired of the kids being in the house all day. I’m tired of everything being wet, of our yard at jungle levels.
On occasion we see the sun, but it does little more than create a steam bath atmosphere. I never realized how much I took the sun in summer for granted, how much I depended on it for that happy summer feeling.
There is an upside, though. The temperature has rarely reached 90, let alone the customary 100s, so the electric bill has been a blessed bright spot (every pun intended!)
If you are in a rain-soaked state, I hope you dry out soon.
If you are in a place where you pray daily for rain to fall—-be careful what you pray for!
6/28/2007
Miss Potter
I’ve been wanting to see the movie Miss Potter. When it came out in the theater, it was in limited places for a short time and I didn’t make it. Now the DVD is out. We rented it tonight. And I wasn’t disappointed.
This charming film starring Rene Zellweger and Ewan McGregor tells the story of Beatrix Potter, the author of all those fabulous children’s books about Peter Rabbit and Jemima Puddle-duck, and all the other animals who have adventures. It is funny and sad and poignant and joyful. I thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it. I loved the story of her writing and her publication. I loved her spunk. And the added bonus? A wonderful romance.
I think I’ll have to add this one to my personal collection.
This charming film starring Rene Zellweger and Ewan McGregor tells the story of Beatrix Potter, the author of all those fabulous children’s books about Peter Rabbit and Jemima Puddle-duck, and all the other animals who have adventures. It is funny and sad and poignant and joyful. I thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it. I loved the story of her writing and her publication. I loved her spunk. And the added bonus? A wonderful romance.
I think I’ll have to add this one to my personal collection.
6/27/2007
Twenty Years and Counting
Twenty years ago tonight I walked down the aisle a gangly twenty-year-old. I walked up the aisle a married woman. Back then, our prospects included three years of him in law school, me finishing my final two years of college. Beyond that, we had only dreams of what would be.
Now Jeff has a thriving law practice, I am consistently growing as a writer (my lifelong dream), and we have three great kids who are getting closer to embarking on their own journeys in life. We’ve waded through financial struggles, relationship issues, personal issues, and childrearing difficulties. It hasn’t been easy or perfect, but it’s been good. Good for us individually and good for us as one flesh.
We aren’t breaking the bank to celebrate tonight (we did that when we went to NYC for my 40th birthday this past February!), but we’ll have a nice dinner (with a gift card from Christmas!), we’ll see a play, and we’ll enjoy the love and friendship that has blossomed through twenty years together.
6/24/2007
My Writing Verse
I’ve always envied writers who have a verse that identifies them as a writer. I’ve even tried on some of the more popular “writing” verses for my own, but they never quite fit me. For awhile it really bothered me, as if I didn’t really have a calling since I didn’t have a verse. But gradually I got over it, knowing that the Lord has given and continues to give me in encouragement in walking this path.
Then today, in church, a man stood up and read two verses in Matthew 10. How is it that even when you’ve read the Bible all your life you continue to find verses you’d swear you’d never seen before! Anyway, he read verses 26 and 27, but he was really only talking about 26. I, on the other hand, couldn’t take my mind off verse 27. Here’s what it says (Jesus is speaking to his disciples before sending them out):
“What I tell you in the darkness, speak in the light; and what you hear whispered in your ear, proclaim on the housetops.”
The previous verse talks about things hidden being revealed. That was the point of the man’s talk. He asked if those verses made us feel free or fearful. My answer was fearful, but not because of v. 26. I’ve spent many years allowing God to reveal all the hidden ick in my heart. Whenever I find something new, it doesn’t scare me anymore to acknowledge that. I know the freedom there.
But the thought of telling in the light what He has spoken to me in the darkness, or shouting out what he’s whispered in my ear, THAT scares me! And yet, that so defines my fiction. Not that my stories are autobiographical by any means. But when it comes to core issues in the lives of my characters, I very often have at least a passing familiarity with those—in myself or in those close to me. Often, I have walked through the pain of bringing those issues to light and God has whispered His words in my ear, words that somehow find their way into my characters’ thoughts or dialogue or actions.
So now I have a writing verse, one that defines me, one that reminds me of the path He’s called me to walk, and one that feels tailor-made for me.
Then today, in church, a man stood up and read two verses in Matthew 10. How is it that even when you’ve read the Bible all your life you continue to find verses you’d swear you’d never seen before! Anyway, he read verses 26 and 27, but he was really only talking about 26. I, on the other hand, couldn’t take my mind off verse 27. Here’s what it says (Jesus is speaking to his disciples before sending them out):
“What I tell you in the darkness, speak in the light; and what you hear whispered in your ear, proclaim on the housetops.”
The previous verse talks about things hidden being revealed. That was the point of the man’s talk. He asked if those verses made us feel free or fearful. My answer was fearful, but not because of v. 26. I’ve spent many years allowing God to reveal all the hidden ick in my heart. Whenever I find something new, it doesn’t scare me anymore to acknowledge that. I know the freedom there.
But the thought of telling in the light what He has spoken to me in the darkness, or shouting out what he’s whispered in my ear, THAT scares me! And yet, that so defines my fiction. Not that my stories are autobiographical by any means. But when it comes to core issues in the lives of my characters, I very often have at least a passing familiarity with those—in myself or in those close to me. Often, I have walked through the pain of bringing those issues to light and God has whispered His words in my ear, words that somehow find their way into my characters’ thoughts or dialogue or actions.
So now I have a writing verse, one that defines me, one that reminds me of the path He’s called me to walk, and one that feels tailor-made for me.
6/21/2007
Preparation for the Race
The Snowflake Method for designing novels by Randy Ingermanson. I’ve tried to use it for years. It never worked for me.
Until now.
A couple of weeks ago I bought A Snowflake Analysis of the Novel: Gone with the Wind by Randy and his daughter Carolyn, who is an English lit major in her third year of college. Now I get it. Now I see I’d been making it more difficult than it was meant to be!
I studied the GWTW example (I’ve read the book several times, so it all made sense), then plunged in with my new novel idea. And guess what? I finished it!! The Snowflake, that is. But that means I have a roadmap for my plot, I’ve explored my characters inside and out, and I still have room for the process to grow organically as I write. And I found that I could tailor some of the snowflake method to how I write best. For instance, instead of character charts, as Randy suggests, or interviewing my characters, as other authors do, I snagged a tip from I can’t remember where and wrote my main characters’ autobiographies up until the time the story begins. That gave me the freedom to create as I went, plus it gave me not only the details about the characters I needed, but also their voice, which gives great insight into who they are.
I’m so excited. I feel like I’m in the starting gate, chomping at the bit to get in the race, just waiting for the gun to go off and the gate to open, freeing me to race down the straightaway. The gun goes off on Monday morning. I hope I make it to the finish line!
Until now.
A couple of weeks ago I bought A Snowflake Analysis of the Novel: Gone with the Wind by Randy and his daughter Carolyn, who is an English lit major in her third year of college. Now I get it. Now I see I’d been making it more difficult than it was meant to be!
I studied the GWTW example (I’ve read the book several times, so it all made sense), then plunged in with my new novel idea. And guess what? I finished it!! The Snowflake, that is. But that means I have a roadmap for my plot, I’ve explored my characters inside and out, and I still have room for the process to grow organically as I write. And I found that I could tailor some of the snowflake method to how I write best. For instance, instead of character charts, as Randy suggests, or interviewing my characters, as other authors do, I snagged a tip from I can’t remember where and wrote my main characters’ autobiographies up until the time the story begins. That gave me the freedom to create as I went, plus it gave me not only the details about the characters I needed, but also their voice, which gives great insight into who they are.
I’m so excited. I feel like I’m in the starting gate, chomping at the bit to get in the race, just waiting for the gun to go off and the gate to open, freeing me to race down the straightaway. The gun goes off on Monday morning. I hope I make it to the finish line!
6/18/2007
A Contest on Mary's Blog
Does anyone out there want a copy of Watching the Tree Limbs and its sequel Wishing on Dandelions? Both are by my friend Mary DeMuth. Both are excellent. One is a Christy Award Finalist this year.
Here's the catch: she signed these books to celebrities and sent them off. They came back. So she's holding a contest to see who gets the books. You can find the details here.
Go ahead. Take a chance. You might win two wonderful novels you can take with you on that relaxing vacation you're going to take. Or read them at the pool while the kids swim. Or hide from the mayhem and escape to another time and place. What do you have to lose?
Here's the catch: she signed these books to celebrities and sent them off. They came back. So she's holding a contest to see who gets the books. You can find the details here.
Go ahead. Take a chance. You might win two wonderful novels you can take with you on that relaxing vacation you're going to take. Or read them at the pool while the kids swim. Or hide from the mayhem and escape to another time and place. What do you have to lose?
6/14/2007
Ruth Bell Graham
Ruth Bell Graham is rejoicing with Jesus today. It made me cry to read it.
When I was a young mother, struggling with a headstrong child and a husband working long hours, I discovered Mrs. Graham’s book of poetry. I pulled out the volume and read a few again today. They resonate with me now as they did back then. Her poems are so real, so full of the struggle of being a wife and a mother, a human being, and a child of God.
I’ll miss knowing she’s a fellow pilgrim on this earth. Her wisdom, her grace, her strength inspire me to press on toward the mark of the high calling of Christ. And isn’t that the way we’d all like our lives to count?
When I was a young mother, struggling with a headstrong child and a husband working long hours, I discovered Mrs. Graham’s book of poetry. I pulled out the volume and read a few again today. They resonate with me now as they did back then. Her poems are so real, so full of the struggle of being a wife and a mother, a human being, and a child of God.
I’ll miss knowing she’s a fellow pilgrim on this earth. Her wisdom, her grace, her strength inspire me to press on toward the mark of the high calling of Christ. And isn’t that the way we’d all like our lives to count?
6/12/2007
Cleaning Up the Messes
Ah, summertime. It should conjure up thoughts of lazy days by the pool or watching movies in the heat of the day. Instead, it brings . . .
Dishes and laundry. Dishes and laundry.
How many times a day can I run the dishwasher and the washing machine? Today, it’s three each. Of course we fed eight people for dinner last night—on real dishes, including serving dishes. (My daughter is very into presentation.)
I have to keep reminding myself of the verse in Proverbs that, years ago, I heard applied to houses with children in them. I think it particularly applicable to summertime houses with kids in them!
Proverbs 14:4 Where no oxen are, the manger is clean, but much revenue comes by the strength of the ox. (NASB) The NIV translation of the second half of this verse says “but from the strength of the ox comes an abundant harvest.” Having kids means messes and hard work, but it also means an abundant harvest for the kingdom of God—in our own lives, in their lives, and in the lives of those our families touch.
Dishes and laundry. Dishes and laundry.
How many times a day can I run the dishwasher and the washing machine? Today, it’s three each. Of course we fed eight people for dinner last night—on real dishes, including serving dishes. (My daughter is very into presentation.)
I have to keep reminding myself of the verse in Proverbs that, years ago, I heard applied to houses with children in them. I think it particularly applicable to summertime houses with kids in them!
Proverbs 14:4 Where no oxen are, the manger is clean, but much revenue comes by the strength of the ox. (NASB) The NIV translation of the second half of this verse says “but from the strength of the ox comes an abundant harvest.” Having kids means messes and hard work, but it also means an abundant harvest for the kingdom of God—in our own lives, in their lives, and in the lives of those our families touch.
6/08/2007
The Hassles of Modernity
Nothing is easy anymore. Last week, I spent time on the phone and in the car trying to get my husband’s cell phone (w/pda) fixed or replaced. Since we pay for the full insurance every month, you’d think this would have been a simple matter.
Not!
I had to travel to the store designated for repairs (now 20 minutes away), only to be told I had to call a number and arrange for the replacement, only to be told I could have just been given a new phone at the store. I called the store back only to be told the people on the phone had given me the wrong information, so I should call them again. We finally got a new phone after three hours of hassle and a day in the mail.
Then we went to a hotel for the weekend. My husband had meetings there. I was going to write. I tried to hook up to the hotel internet to no avail. I followed the directions on the desk in the room, then I called the help number on those directions only to be told that they didn’t service that hotel any more. I finally got the new help number from the front desk and called again. This time I was told I needed a wireless bridge. I didn’t sound right, given that my laptop has a wireless card, but the woman insisted. So back to the front desk we went, only to be told they had no idea what a wireless bridge was. Back to the room, back on the phone. Someone finally figured out that my LAN setting was too fast for the connection after a frustrating hour. (I will say that the girl at the front desk felt so bad for all the trouble that she left me a snack basket in the room. That kind of customer service is all too rare these days.)
So today I call my new insurance company. My husband formed a new partnership as of June 1, thus the change. I have two mail order prescriptions and I need to get them changed over to the new mail order company. After fifteen minutes of automated voices asking me why I was calling, I got a real person only to be told they won’t transfer the prescriptions, they have to receive them new, which means I have to call and hassle each doctor’s office (my gp and my ophthalmologist) and make sure they fax in the newly written prescriptions. If they tell me I have to come to an office visit to get them, I think I’ll scream.
Not!
I had to travel to the store designated for repairs (now 20 minutes away), only to be told I had to call a number and arrange for the replacement, only to be told I could have just been given a new phone at the store. I called the store back only to be told the people on the phone had given me the wrong information, so I should call them again. We finally got a new phone after three hours of hassle and a day in the mail.
Then we went to a hotel for the weekend. My husband had meetings there. I was going to write. I tried to hook up to the hotel internet to no avail. I followed the directions on the desk in the room, then I called the help number on those directions only to be told that they didn’t service that hotel any more. I finally got the new help number from the front desk and called again. This time I was told I needed a wireless bridge. I didn’t sound right, given that my laptop has a wireless card, but the woman insisted. So back to the front desk we went, only to be told they had no idea what a wireless bridge was. Back to the room, back on the phone. Someone finally figured out that my LAN setting was too fast for the connection after a frustrating hour. (I will say that the girl at the front desk felt so bad for all the trouble that she left me a snack basket in the room. That kind of customer service is all too rare these days.)
So today I call my new insurance company. My husband formed a new partnership as of June 1, thus the change. I have two mail order prescriptions and I need to get them changed over to the new mail order company. After fifteen minutes of automated voices asking me why I was calling, I got a real person only to be told they won’t transfer the prescriptions, they have to receive them new, which means I have to call and hassle each doctor’s office (my gp and my ophthalmologist) and make sure they fax in the newly written prescriptions. If they tell me I have to come to an office visit to get them, I think I’ll scream.
6/03/2007
Patience
I don’t have much of it, I admit. But I’ve been getting better, at least in my personal life. What I’ve come to understand in the past week or so, though, is I don’t have any patience in my writing life.
Putting the words of a novel on the page and then refining those words is a long process. Months. Sometimes years. But when I get an inkling of an idea or a character, I’m not patient enough to explore it, to roll it around in my head and on paper before I start writing. Thus, as I get deeper into the story, something invariably goes wrong.
I guess it’s kind of like starting to build a tower without first counting the cost. Oh I count the cost in terms of time and energy, but I don’t count other costs—like not being able to show something for a day or week’s “work.” I like concrete definitions of accomplishment. So many words written. So many pages edited. When I spend hours thinking, writing notes, sifting through ideas, I look back at the end of a day feel a vague sense of dissatisfaction. As if the “productivity police” are going to arrest me for lack of evidence.
I’ve realized this as I’ve read and studied the process of writing again. It is more than just having a story or situation in mind. I also have to have some idea where I’m going with it. As a SOTP (seat-of-the pants, a non-outliner) writer, I’ve disdained having a final destination for my characters.
But in The Plot Thickens, Noah Lukeman provided me a new perspective on destinations. “It is like putting your character on a train bound for California. If he decides to get off in Arizona, that’s fine. If it turns out he should settle there and never get back on the train, that’s fine, too. But he never could have known about Arizona if he hadn’t first gotten on that train for California—if he hadn’t had some destination in mind.”
In my impatience, I put my half-formed, blindfolded characters on a train to nowhere. Perhaps if I’d take a bit more planning time to figure out a destination, my characters will still surprise me by their detours in the spinning out of their stories. In fact, they probably will. If only I can hold back, think and plan and ponder until that right moment. Then, having counted the cost, hopefully the tower can be constructed with less effort and more enjoyment than ever before.
Putting the words of a novel on the page and then refining those words is a long process. Months. Sometimes years. But when I get an inkling of an idea or a character, I’m not patient enough to explore it, to roll it around in my head and on paper before I start writing. Thus, as I get deeper into the story, something invariably goes wrong.
I guess it’s kind of like starting to build a tower without first counting the cost. Oh I count the cost in terms of time and energy, but I don’t count other costs—like not being able to show something for a day or week’s “work.” I like concrete definitions of accomplishment. So many words written. So many pages edited. When I spend hours thinking, writing notes, sifting through ideas, I look back at the end of a day feel a vague sense of dissatisfaction. As if the “productivity police” are going to arrest me for lack of evidence.
I’ve realized this as I’ve read and studied the process of writing again. It is more than just having a story or situation in mind. I also have to have some idea where I’m going with it. As a SOTP (seat-of-the pants, a non-outliner) writer, I’ve disdained having a final destination for my characters.
But in The Plot Thickens, Noah Lukeman provided me a new perspective on destinations. “It is like putting your character on a train bound for California. If he decides to get off in Arizona, that’s fine. If it turns out he should settle there and never get back on the train, that’s fine, too. But he never could have known about Arizona if he hadn’t first gotten on that train for California—if he hadn’t had some destination in mind.”
In my impatience, I put my half-formed, blindfolded characters on a train to nowhere. Perhaps if I’d take a bit more planning time to figure out a destination, my characters will still surprise me by their detours in the spinning out of their stories. In fact, they probably will. If only I can hold back, think and plan and ponder until that right moment. Then, having counted the cost, hopefully the tower can be constructed with less effort and more enjoyment than ever before.
5/29/2007
A Shocking Lack of Story
It’s everywhere. Last night I watched part of “On the Lot” again with my daughter. The contestants’ assignment: make a 1 minute comedy. The ones that got the rave reviews were the ones that were not only good filmmakers, but good storytellers. Several had no story at all. None. The judges were quite severe on this flaw.
I wish those judges had been around for the making of Pirates of the Caribbean 3. I wasted 3 hours and $7 on a movie with no plot. Just familiar characters doing familiar things but without real goals or direction. I hated it.
But before I point fingers, I have to say it is a weak point in my own writing. Over the years I’ve learned some things. I can use active verbs and vivid words. I can show instead of tell. Characterization and dialogue are becoming easier. But my story—my plot—is often weak. So I’ve been studying this weekend. I pulled out all the writing books on my shelf and read and took notes on everything relating to story structure and plot.
One quote I found particularly encouraging came from Janet Burroway’s Writing Fiction. “It’s probable that your impulse to write has little to do with the desire or the skill to work out a plot. On the contrary, you want to write because you are sensitive. You have something to say that does not answer the question, What happened next? You share . . . a sense of the injustice, the absurdity, and the beauty of the world; and you want to register your protest, your laughter, and your affirmation. Yet readers still want to wonder what happened next, and unless you make them wonder, they will not turn the page. You must master plot, because no matter how profound or illuminating your vision of the world may be, you cannot convey it to those who do not read you.”
So I’m encouraged to learn to tell a story well, to make sure the plot is as strong as the other aspects of my writing. It’s something I’ll have to work at, but I believe it’s an attainable goal.
I wish those judges had been around for the making of Pirates of the Caribbean 3. I wasted 3 hours and $7 on a movie with no plot. Just familiar characters doing familiar things but without real goals or direction. I hated it.
But before I point fingers, I have to say it is a weak point in my own writing. Over the years I’ve learned some things. I can use active verbs and vivid words. I can show instead of tell. Characterization and dialogue are becoming easier. But my story—my plot—is often weak. So I’ve been studying this weekend. I pulled out all the writing books on my shelf and read and took notes on everything relating to story structure and plot.
One quote I found particularly encouraging came from Janet Burroway’s Writing Fiction. “It’s probable that your impulse to write has little to do with the desire or the skill to work out a plot. On the contrary, you want to write because you are sensitive. You have something to say that does not answer the question, What happened next? You share . . . a sense of the injustice, the absurdity, and the beauty of the world; and you want to register your protest, your laughter, and your affirmation. Yet readers still want to wonder what happened next, and unless you make them wonder, they will not turn the page. You must master plot, because no matter how profound or illuminating your vision of the world may be, you cannot convey it to those who do not read you.”
So I’m encouraged to learn to tell a story well, to make sure the plot is as strong as the other aspects of my writing. It’s something I’ll have to work at, but I believe it’s an attainable goal.
5/24/2007
The Pitch
I sat down with my daughter to watch the premier episode of “On the Lot” the other night. This is the new reality contest show for filmmakers. 12,000 people entered short films. 50 were chosen to go to Hollywood. Their first task: the pitch.
This fascinated me. Each contestant was given a log line (a generic plot for a movie.) They had 24 hours to come up with a pitch for a movie. In other words, come up with characters, a setting, a plot and convey the essence of the story in just a few minutes. This is not unlike pitching a novel to an editor. But while I’ve listened to people talk about how to pitch and I’ve practiced my pitches, it was infinitely helpful to watch someone make a pitch. To watch not only the one pitching, but the ones being pitched to.
Here’s what I gleaned:
Excitement on the part of the one pitching is paramount. When the one pitching is unsure of the viability of their storyline, so are the ones listening. Eye contact and poise are a must. Even a bad or mundane idea impresses when presented with confidence—without wringing of hands or a facial expression that seeks approval from the listener. The pitcher has to believe in his story before the pitchee will take it seriously.
Only a well-thought-out storyline comes across without confusion. When the one pitching the story is unsure of the plot points, the pitch rambles, often becoming convoluted. The one hearing the pitch becomes confused and uninterested. Vague plot points become quite apparent.
Imagination and creativity in a storyline must still maintain a semblance of reality. Don’t take it too over the top. In other words, a completely wacko twist to a story, instead of lending interest, makes the one hearing the pitch question the experience—and sometimes the sanity—of the one pitching!
After this round, 14 contestants were asked to leave—about ¼. I’m sure in real life, the pitch weeds out more than that, be it in film or literary endeavors.
Pitching is one of my weaknesses. Watching these brave souls succeed and fail on national television made me determine to work harder on my pitch before attending my next writing conference. After all, the pitch is an editor’s first inkling that you have a story to tell and that you can tell it well.
This fascinated me. Each contestant was given a log line (a generic plot for a movie.) They had 24 hours to come up with a pitch for a movie. In other words, come up with characters, a setting, a plot and convey the essence of the story in just a few minutes. This is not unlike pitching a novel to an editor. But while I’ve listened to people talk about how to pitch and I’ve practiced my pitches, it was infinitely helpful to watch someone make a pitch. To watch not only the one pitching, but the ones being pitched to.
Here’s what I gleaned:
Excitement on the part of the one pitching is paramount. When the one pitching is unsure of the viability of their storyline, so are the ones listening. Eye contact and poise are a must. Even a bad or mundane idea impresses when presented with confidence—without wringing of hands or a facial expression that seeks approval from the listener. The pitcher has to believe in his story before the pitchee will take it seriously.
Only a well-thought-out storyline comes across without confusion. When the one pitching the story is unsure of the plot points, the pitch rambles, often becoming convoluted. The one hearing the pitch becomes confused and uninterested. Vague plot points become quite apparent.
Imagination and creativity in a storyline must still maintain a semblance of reality. Don’t take it too over the top. In other words, a completely wacko twist to a story, instead of lending interest, makes the one hearing the pitch question the experience—and sometimes the sanity—of the one pitching!
After this round, 14 contestants were asked to leave—about ¼. I’m sure in real life, the pitch weeds out more than that, be it in film or literary endeavors.
Pitching is one of my weaknesses. Watching these brave souls succeed and fail on national television made me determine to work harder on my pitch before attending my next writing conference. After all, the pitch is an editor’s first inkling that you have a story to tell and that you can tell it well.
5/22/2007
Disappointing News
It’s official. I didn’t final in the 2007 Genesis Contest. I had such high hopes after last year, but, alas, I get the humbling experience of not doing as well this year as I did last year. I know this is not the end of the world, or even of my writing career. But it’s disappointing all the same.
It will be interesting to get back the judges’ comments. After I sent in the entry, I completely scrapped that beginning and started over. I like the new version so much better. Maybe this is just a confirmation that the first version wasn’t on the right track. Maybe it is an inkling that although I love to read historicals, perhaps I should write contemporary (last year I made the finals with a contemporary story.)
All I know is I’m a bit discouraged. But given a little while to process the information, I’m sure I’ll be fine. That tenacity that has been mine since the day I was born will rear its head and I’ll soldier on. After all, the Lord has only called me to write. The results of that are completely up to Him.
It will be interesting to get back the judges’ comments. After I sent in the entry, I completely scrapped that beginning and started over. I like the new version so much better. Maybe this is just a confirmation that the first version wasn’t on the right track. Maybe it is an inkling that although I love to read historicals, perhaps I should write contemporary (last year I made the finals with a contemporary story.)
All I know is I’m a bit discouraged. But given a little while to process the information, I’m sure I’ll be fine. That tenacity that has been mine since the day I was born will rear its head and I’ll soldier on. After all, the Lord has only called me to write. The results of that are completely up to Him.
5/20/2007
Bad News Bears Make Good
My sixth grade son is playing his last season of sports outside of school. In order to get the boys at our school ready, my husband compiled first a basketball team, now a baseball team. These are boys with a ton of confidence but negligible ability. Oh, a few here and there can hold their own, but for the most part, it is a matter of imagining their athleticism as quite different from what it really is.
So in basketball, they lost every game—but they beat the first place team in round one of the end of season tournament. You’d have thought they’d taken the NBA trophy! They next game, they received a trouncing. Then they moved to on—to little league baseball.
Yesterday they played their seeding games for the end of season area-wide tournament. They won both games, scoring 11 runs in one game, 12 in the other. After the second game, my husband gathered his team and asked, “When did the aliens come in and replace the team that’s played for me all season?”
And it was true. While they did win a couple of games this season, they mostly looked like the Bad News Bears. Remember? They had some pitching, but little else? Their efforts in the field were simply a series of blunders? (I won’t compare the two coaches. Needless to say, my husband doesn’t resemble Walter Mattheau’s character in the least!)
So suddenly our team finds itself catapulted into the quarter-final game. Yes, they may lose today. They may lose badly. But they will arrive at the game with two incredible wins to remember.
Unfortunately, I’m afraid it will only feed their overactive 12-year-old egos.
So in basketball, they lost every game—but they beat the first place team in round one of the end of season tournament. You’d have thought they’d taken the NBA trophy! They next game, they received a trouncing. Then they moved to on—to little league baseball.
Yesterday they played their seeding games for the end of season area-wide tournament. They won both games, scoring 11 runs in one game, 12 in the other. After the second game, my husband gathered his team and asked, “When did the aliens come in and replace the team that’s played for me all season?”
And it was true. While they did win a couple of games this season, they mostly looked like the Bad News Bears. Remember? They had some pitching, but little else? Their efforts in the field were simply a series of blunders? (I won’t compare the two coaches. Needless to say, my husband doesn’t resemble Walter Mattheau’s character in the least!)
So suddenly our team finds itself catapulted into the quarter-final game. Yes, they may lose today. They may lose badly. But they will arrive at the game with two incredible wins to remember.
Unfortunately, I’m afraid it will only feed their overactive 12-year-old egos.
5/16/2007
5/14/2007
5/13/2007
A Memorable Mother's Day
I’ve tried three times tonight to write a post. For one reason or another, I’ve deleted all my previous words. So here, in a few sentences, is an encapsulation of my Mother’s Day:
I ate too much Mexican food and laughed with my kids.
I watched as a major league baseball player originally from Japan stopped to sign autographs before the game. When time ran, short he made it clear (I’ve heard he doesn’t speak much English) with one word—kids—that he would finish with the kids that were in line. Adults were moved out of the way and the eyes of young boys (including my own) lighting up in appreciation made me cry.
I watched my two boys, among the older ones of those begging for pre-game autographs, notice two little boys standing behind them, both holding balls and pens. They scooted aside, brought the little ones up front, and the gracious player signed for them all. My boys are awesome!
As I poured a bowl of cereal for a light dinner, a bird swooped over my head and into my breakfast room! We finally got it shooed out the door after it ran into at least three windows looking for an escape route. How it got inside we’ll never know!
My daughter finished Les Miserables (abridged) for her honors English project. We discussed the book together, ending with her thanking me for helping her understand how to write a literary analysis of the book.
All in all, I’d say my Mother’s Day turned out to be one I’ll always remember.
I ate too much Mexican food and laughed with my kids.
I watched as a major league baseball player originally from Japan stopped to sign autographs before the game. When time ran, short he made it clear (I’ve heard he doesn’t speak much English) with one word—kids—that he would finish with the kids that were in line. Adults were moved out of the way and the eyes of young boys (including my own) lighting up in appreciation made me cry.
I watched my two boys, among the older ones of those begging for pre-game autographs, notice two little boys standing behind them, both holding balls and pens. They scooted aside, brought the little ones up front, and the gracious player signed for them all. My boys are awesome!
As I poured a bowl of cereal for a light dinner, a bird swooped over my head and into my breakfast room! We finally got it shooed out the door after it ran into at least three windows looking for an escape route. How it got inside we’ll never know!
My daughter finished Les Miserables (abridged) for her honors English project. We discussed the book together, ending with her thanking me for helping her understand how to write a literary analysis of the book.
All in all, I’d say my Mother’s Day turned out to be one I’ll always remember.
5/10/2007
5/07/2007
Eight Random Things About Me
Two posts in one day! Have y’all fainted dead away yet?
I’ve seen other bloggers get “tagged” before. Now it’s my turn. My friend Mary tagged me in the 8 Random Facts game. Here are the rules.
1. Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.2. People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.3. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.4. Don't forget to leave them a comment telling them they're tagged, and to read your blog.
So here are my 8 things:
1. I attended three different four-year colleges (2 in Texas, 1 in Pennsylvania) before graduating—a semester early, no less!
2.I attended Texas Girls State the summer between my junior and senior years of high school.
3. My first car was a 1967 Mustang (a fact my daughter reminds me of—often.) I drove it for about four months until I was hit from behind and decided a big car was a good thing.
4. I never had any desire to go to Hawaii—until we got a chance to go to Maui five years ago. Now I can’t wait to go back!
5. I majored in history because my freshman English professor gave me a C (and a low one, at that) in my first writing class my first semester of college. Now I’m working at writing as a career. Go figure!
6. I worked in the campus library to put my husband through the last half of law school.
7. Laundry is my favorite household chore. It wins by default, because it is the only one I’m good at!
8. I have never had a broken bone.
So who to tag? Mary tagged most of the bloggers I know and read. So let’s go with Robin, Tina, and Richard. Tag, you’re it!
I’ve seen other bloggers get “tagged” before. Now it’s my turn. My friend Mary tagged me in the 8 Random Facts game. Here are the rules.
1. Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.2. People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.3. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.4. Don't forget to leave them a comment telling them they're tagged, and to read your blog.
So here are my 8 things:
1. I attended three different four-year colleges (2 in Texas, 1 in Pennsylvania) before graduating—a semester early, no less!
2.I attended Texas Girls State the summer between my junior and senior years of high school.
3. My first car was a 1967 Mustang (a fact my daughter reminds me of—often.) I drove it for about four months until I was hit from behind and decided a big car was a good thing.
4. I never had any desire to go to Hawaii—until we got a chance to go to Maui five years ago. Now I can’t wait to go back!
5. I majored in history because my freshman English professor gave me a C (and a low one, at that) in my first writing class my first semester of college. Now I’m working at writing as a career. Go figure!
6. I worked in the campus library to put my husband through the last half of law school.
7. Laundry is my favorite household chore. It wins by default, because it is the only one I’m good at!
8. I have never had a broken bone.
So who to tag? Mary tagged most of the bloggers I know and read. So let’s go with Robin, Tina, and Richard. Tag, you’re it!
Internet Oddities
Sorry I've been so erratic posting lately. My DSL has been on the fritz. I'll be cruising along, reading blogs, emailing, when VOILA! No connection. I huff a bit, walk into my office, and see the angry red light blinking next to "DSL" on my modem. I unplug it, plug it back in, and wait. Sometimes it connects, sometimes it doesn't.
But here's the really odd thing: when I call my service provider, it reconnects--almost instantly! The first time, it just seemed like a Murphy's law thing. The second time, I chalked it up to coincidence. But now half a dozen times we have dialed the number--dialed the number, mind you, not spoken with anyone--and BLIP, the DSL and Internet lights blaze green.
Weird.
But here's the really odd thing: when I call my service provider, it reconnects--almost instantly! The first time, it just seemed like a Murphy's law thing. The second time, I chalked it up to coincidence. But now half a dozen times we have dialed the number--dialed the number, mind you, not spoken with anyone--and BLIP, the DSL and Internet lights blaze green.
Weird.
5/03/2007
What I Was Made For
We’ve been hearing teaching on spiritual gifts at church for the past few weeks. It’s been really good. It got me thinking (yet again) about the gifts God has given me and am I using them.
I’ve always pondered this question. When I was younger, I took several different spiritual gifts inventories/tests. But trying to life my life by those answers didn’t bring a lot of fulfillment. In fact, it often brought frustration. I wonder if I answered some of those questions with how I wanted to feel about and respond to situations, not how I actually did. But things are coming clear now, perhaps because I’m older and I know myself better or because this teaching has been a bit less convoluted than previous ones.
I used to mistake my love of study as a teaching gift. But I don’t long to impart my knowledge to others in a teaching capacity. Instead, my study of the Word allows me to encourage others with Scripture. I used to think I had the gift of administration. But while I am somewhat organized, left to myself, things often fall apart. I’ve learned to be organized. I encourage others to work at discipline and organization in their own lives. But it isn’t inherent in my makeup as a person.
So now I see. In everything I do, my underlying motivation is encouragement of others. When I write, my heart’s desire is to encourage my reader to press on, to grow in their faith, to the do the right albeit hard thing, etc. In my friendships and my family relationships, it is natural for me to say “you can do it” or “you’re doing great, keep at it.”
And I feel fulfilled and at peace knowing that this is what God has made me to do.
Case in point: I am not a cook. It just isn’t in me. When we were first married (in 6 weeks it will be 20 years ago), I tried. But on a $20 a week grocery budget, mistakes cost too much. When my kids were little, my best friend (Lucy to my Ethel) convinced me we could cook once a month and freeze everything. We did. For a few years, we had decent meals. But it wasn’t really due to me. If I hadn’t had Robin in the kitchen with me, it would have been a disaster! Then that, too, fell by the wayside. So for the past few years its been a rotation of baked chicken, tacos, spaghetti, a roast in the crockpot—you get the idea. Nothing creative. Nothing exciting. I felt like such a failure as a woman, a wife, a mother.
This past year, my daughter has discovered a love of cooking. She is creative, artistic, patient. She loves the process and the finished product. She is discovering gifts of giving and hospitality where her food is concerned. And we’ve been eating great! But the best part? I feel so at peace. She is using the creativity and talent God has given her and while I’ve been available to help when needed, I mostly encourage her to keep trying when she occasionally fails and voice my amazement at her every culinary accomplishment. Suddenly, I don’t feel like a failure anymore!
It feels good to finally be beyond the need to have a more visible gift. It feels good to use my gift with my family and friends, which, in most cases, is using my gift to build up the church (in a universal sense.) And it feels good to know that day by day, as I sit in my house and write, that too is a manifestation of the gift God has woven into the fabric of my life.
I’ve always pondered this question. When I was younger, I took several different spiritual gifts inventories/tests. But trying to life my life by those answers didn’t bring a lot of fulfillment. In fact, it often brought frustration. I wonder if I answered some of those questions with how I wanted to feel about and respond to situations, not how I actually did. But things are coming clear now, perhaps because I’m older and I know myself better or because this teaching has been a bit less convoluted than previous ones.
I used to mistake my love of study as a teaching gift. But I don’t long to impart my knowledge to others in a teaching capacity. Instead, my study of the Word allows me to encourage others with Scripture. I used to think I had the gift of administration. But while I am somewhat organized, left to myself, things often fall apart. I’ve learned to be organized. I encourage others to work at discipline and organization in their own lives. But it isn’t inherent in my makeup as a person.
So now I see. In everything I do, my underlying motivation is encouragement of others. When I write, my heart’s desire is to encourage my reader to press on, to grow in their faith, to the do the right albeit hard thing, etc. In my friendships and my family relationships, it is natural for me to say “you can do it” or “you’re doing great, keep at it.”
And I feel fulfilled and at peace knowing that this is what God has made me to do.
Case in point: I am not a cook. It just isn’t in me. When we were first married (in 6 weeks it will be 20 years ago), I tried. But on a $20 a week grocery budget, mistakes cost too much. When my kids were little, my best friend (Lucy to my Ethel) convinced me we could cook once a month and freeze everything. We did. For a few years, we had decent meals. But it wasn’t really due to me. If I hadn’t had Robin in the kitchen with me, it would have been a disaster! Then that, too, fell by the wayside. So for the past few years its been a rotation of baked chicken, tacos, spaghetti, a roast in the crockpot—you get the idea. Nothing creative. Nothing exciting. I felt like such a failure as a woman, a wife, a mother.
This past year, my daughter has discovered a love of cooking. She is creative, artistic, patient. She loves the process and the finished product. She is discovering gifts of giving and hospitality where her food is concerned. And we’ve been eating great! But the best part? I feel so at peace. She is using the creativity and talent God has given her and while I’ve been available to help when needed, I mostly encourage her to keep trying when she occasionally fails and voice my amazement at her every culinary accomplishment. Suddenly, I don’t feel like a failure anymore!
It feels good to finally be beyond the need to have a more visible gift. It feels good to use my gift with my family and friends, which, in most cases, is using my gift to build up the church (in a universal sense.) And it feels good to know that day by day, as I sit in my house and write, that too is a manifestation of the gift God has woven into the fabric of my life.
5/02/2007
5/01/2007
4/28/2007
A Lesson in Waiting
I love football, but I’m not so into it that I would sit and watch the NFL draft show on ESPN.
Until now.
My husband and boys had it on. I got hooked watching the drama unfold around Notre Dame quarterback Brady Quinn. Good athlete. Strong leader. Cute guy.
He didn’t go first. Or second. Or third. Then they thought he’d go ninth. No dice. Now he’s waiting through teams that don’t need quarterbacks. Twenty-one picks have come and gone. Brady’s showed poise beyond his 22 years as he has talked to media amidst his disappointed expectations.
And it occurred to me how much this mirrors the literary world.
Hang with me, now. Teams are like publishing houses and agents, all looking to fill a specific need to fit their game plan. The college players are like a group of unpublished authors who have perfected their craft but haven’t made it to the big game yet. Each is talented, but each plays a different role, produces a certain genre, etc.
So often a very talented writer has to sit and wait while others receive contracts ahead of him, sometimes with no real explanation why that writer’s work wasn’t chosen.
While Brady Quinn waits, I can empathize just a bit. Not that I am to writing what he is to football. I have no illusions about that. But I can understand the disappointment of waiting, of not getting picked. That’s why I’m riveted to the show when normally it wouldn’t grab my attention.
I’ll watch until Quinn is drafted, until he smiles into the camera with a lucky team’s ball cap on his head and jersey in his hand.
And I’ll be thankful that no cameras watch my every move as I wait for the elusive call that finally propels me into the realm of a published author.
Until now.
My husband and boys had it on. I got hooked watching the drama unfold around Notre Dame quarterback Brady Quinn. Good athlete. Strong leader. Cute guy.
He didn’t go first. Or second. Or third. Then they thought he’d go ninth. No dice. Now he’s waiting through teams that don’t need quarterbacks. Twenty-one picks have come and gone. Brady’s showed poise beyond his 22 years as he has talked to media amidst his disappointed expectations.
And it occurred to me how much this mirrors the literary world.
Hang with me, now. Teams are like publishing houses and agents, all looking to fill a specific need to fit their game plan. The college players are like a group of unpublished authors who have perfected their craft but haven’t made it to the big game yet. Each is talented, but each plays a different role, produces a certain genre, etc.
So often a very talented writer has to sit and wait while others receive contracts ahead of him, sometimes with no real explanation why that writer’s work wasn’t chosen.
While Brady Quinn waits, I can empathize just a bit. Not that I am to writing what he is to football. I have no illusions about that. But I can understand the disappointment of waiting, of not getting picked. That’s why I’m riveted to the show when normally it wouldn’t grab my attention.
I’ll watch until Quinn is drafted, until he smiles into the camera with a lucky team’s ball cap on his head and jersey in his hand.
And I’ll be thankful that no cameras watch my every move as I wait for the elusive call that finally propels me into the realm of a published author.
4/24/2007
A Bit of Poetry
I’m not a prolific poet. In fact, most of my poetry came out of the angst of my teenage years. But it’s been a bad last few days, a stressful couple of months, and the words refused to stay inside me.
A thousand little stings,
A thousand little slashes,
A thousand little pieces of my heart are torn
away.
A thousand words do nothing
To heal the broken places,
A thousand thoughts can haunt me to the breaking of the
day.
A thousand weighted burdens
Resting on my shoulders,
A thousand tears spilled wishing that they’d all just go
away.
A thousand moments needed
To lay upon Your bosom,
To receive Your balm of healing that will all my pain
allay.
A thousand little stings,
A thousand little slashes,
A thousand little pieces of my heart are torn
away.
A thousand words do nothing
To heal the broken places,
A thousand thoughts can haunt me to the breaking of the
day.
A thousand weighted burdens
Resting on my shoulders,
A thousand tears spilled wishing that they’d all just go
away.
A thousand moments needed
To lay upon Your bosom,
To receive Your balm of healing that will all my pain
allay.
4/22/2007
My Treasure Trove
I love library book sales. Larger cities have better book sales, but this weekend we went to the book sale for our local library in our small town and found a treasure trove!
We brought home close to 20 books. The total cost? $7.75. We gave them $10 for good measure. Here are a few of my golden nuggets:
Non-fiction: London’s Underworld This covers the history of the down-and-outers in London—prostitutes, pickpockets, forgers, counterfeiters, and the list goes on. What I love about this book is it is not just statistics or conjecture. Many places it gives first hand accounts by the people who lived it. A great book to have on hand for research!
Reference: Why Did They Name It . . .? Covers the history of several well-known products—from food to cars to cosmetics. Just the thing to add tidbits of historical trivia to a story.
Fiction: Mrs. Miniver The book is actually a collection of a series of newspaper articles about British daily life and the looming war, centered around the fictional character of Mrs. Miniver. Looks to be not only a fascinating read but a good resource if I ever want to do a WWII story.
Biography: Starling of the White House This book is the memoir (it’s an “as told to” book) of an obscure secret service man who worked for four U.S. Presidents, beginning with Woodrow Wilson. Since one of the stories I’m longing to write is set in WWI, I’m hoping to glean some insight into both daily life and political life during this time. I love delving into primary sources!
Of course, these are just the highlights of the two bags of books I brought home. After all, each book has a different story to tell, a reason why it drew me, a reason why I couldn’t let it go.
We brought home close to 20 books. The total cost? $7.75. We gave them $10 for good measure. Here are a few of my golden nuggets:
Non-fiction: London’s Underworld This covers the history of the down-and-outers in London—prostitutes, pickpockets, forgers, counterfeiters, and the list goes on. What I love about this book is it is not just statistics or conjecture. Many places it gives first hand accounts by the people who lived it. A great book to have on hand for research!
Reference: Why Did They Name It . . .? Covers the history of several well-known products—from food to cars to cosmetics. Just the thing to add tidbits of historical trivia to a story.
Fiction: Mrs. Miniver The book is actually a collection of a series of newspaper articles about British daily life and the looming war, centered around the fictional character of Mrs. Miniver. Looks to be not only a fascinating read but a good resource if I ever want to do a WWII story.
Biography: Starling of the White House This book is the memoir (it’s an “as told to” book) of an obscure secret service man who worked for four U.S. Presidents, beginning with Woodrow Wilson. Since one of the stories I’m longing to write is set in WWI, I’m hoping to glean some insight into both daily life and political life during this time. I love delving into primary sources!
Of course, these are just the highlights of the two bags of books I brought home. After all, each book has a different story to tell, a reason why it drew me, a reason why I couldn’t let it go.
4/19/2007
God in the shuffle
I love the shuffle feature on my ipod Nano. I use it almost exclusively. I love never knowing what will pop up next—a song from my favorite musical, a praise and worship tune, a rock out “I love Jesus” song, a country ditty, a tear-jerker love ballad. And the list goes on.
But I often wonder if God Himself is in the shuffle. Take today. I was driving along (remember the dentist and bookstore thing?) praying for various people in my life, my ipod singing in the background, when one of my favorite Third Day songs hit the queue. “Keep on Shining” from their album Wherever You Are.
Have you listened to these lyrics? The second verse is the one I resonate with the most:
Having faith in the long run is easier said than done It's hard to live out in the light of day You're bruised and you're battered, your dreams have been shattered Your best laid plans scattered over the place Despite all your tendencies, God sees it differently Your struggle's a time to grow And you, you're a miracle, anything but typical It's time for the whole wide world to know
Keep on, keep on shinin' Wherever you may be Keep on, keep on shinin' For all the world to see
My eyes misted over (not always a good thing while you’re driving) as I saw not only myself in those words, but all the people I had in my prayers just moments before. The song came to an end. I sighed with a satisfied longing—satisfied that God sees my struggles and those of my friends and family and yet a longing to have His arms around me, giving me His strength to keep walking, to keep shining.
So it shuffled to the next song. An old Vineyard worship tune I’ve cried though many a time. This time was no different.
Lord who am I
Compared to Your glory, Oh Lord
Lord who am I
Compared to Your majesty
I am Your beloved Your creation
And You love me as I am
You have called me chosen for Your kingdom
Unashamed to call me Your own
I am Your beloved
I had to catch my breath, dry my face as I pulled into the parking lot and wondered yet again if God is in the shuffle.
But I often wonder if God Himself is in the shuffle. Take today. I was driving along (remember the dentist and bookstore thing?) praying for various people in my life, my ipod singing in the background, when one of my favorite Third Day songs hit the queue. “Keep on Shining” from their album Wherever You Are.
Have you listened to these lyrics? The second verse is the one I resonate with the most:
Having faith in the long run is easier said than done It's hard to live out in the light of day You're bruised and you're battered, your dreams have been shattered Your best laid plans scattered over the place Despite all your tendencies, God sees it differently Your struggle's a time to grow And you, you're a miracle, anything but typical It's time for the whole wide world to know
Keep on, keep on shinin' Wherever you may be Keep on, keep on shinin' For all the world to see
My eyes misted over (not always a good thing while you’re driving) as I saw not only myself in those words, but all the people I had in my prayers just moments before. The song came to an end. I sighed with a satisfied longing—satisfied that God sees my struggles and those of my friends and family and yet a longing to have His arms around me, giving me His strength to keep walking, to keep shining.
So it shuffled to the next song. An old Vineyard worship tune I’ve cried though many a time. This time was no different.
Lord who am I
Compared to Your glory, Oh Lord
Lord who am I
Compared to Your majesty
I am Your beloved Your creation
And You love me as I am
You have called me chosen for Your kingdom
Unashamed to call me Your own
I am Your beloved
I had to catch my breath, dry my face as I pulled into the parking lot and wondered yet again if God is in the shuffle.
4/17/2007
Dentists and Hardcover books
Thursday I go to the dentist. Now normally I would moan and groan over that. Not that I don’t like my dentist. I do. I’m picky about dentists. I’ve only gone to two in my entire life!
But Thursday, when I head to his office, I’ll be halfway to the closest Barnes and Noble. Now any trip to B&N is cause for celebration, but on Thursday I will go, coupon and BN Member card in hand, and get my copy of Alexander MacCall Smith’s newest book—The Good Husband of Zebra Drive, the eighth book in the No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency series.
It’s not often I feel compelled to buy a book right when it comes out (well, it technically came out today, but I won’t get there until Thursday), but my husband and I love these books. We’ll probably fight over who gets to read it first.
So for the pleasure of reacquainting myself with characters that are old friends, I’ll gladly hand over my money. Even for a hardcover!
But Thursday, when I head to his office, I’ll be halfway to the closest Barnes and Noble. Now any trip to B&N is cause for celebration, but on Thursday I will go, coupon and BN Member card in hand, and get my copy of Alexander MacCall Smith’s newest book—The Good Husband of Zebra Drive, the eighth book in the No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency series.
It’s not often I feel compelled to buy a book right when it comes out (well, it technically came out today, but I won’t get there until Thursday), but my husband and I love these books. We’ll probably fight over who gets to read it first.
So for the pleasure of reacquainting myself with characters that are old friends, I’ll gladly hand over my money. Even for a hardcover!
4/12/2007
2047. Whew! But of course I deleted another 1000 or so words as well!
And I started over after rethinking the course of my story in light of the talk at writers group. I begin at a different place and went back to my first characterizations and plotline. And the writing of it flowed more easily--less like pulling teeth, more like planting flowers then digging them up and replanting them in another place (how's that for mixed metaphors!)
I'm on the right track now. It feels great. I know this story is a good one. And I feel like my perseverance through the hard part and my willingness to revamp it, even this far in, has made it stronger and made me love it more.
Maybe I'll post a real post soon, about something besides "my progress."
And I started over after rethinking the course of my story in light of the talk at writers group. I begin at a different place and went back to my first characterizations and plotline. And the writing of it flowed more easily--less like pulling teeth, more like planting flowers then digging them up and replanting them in another place (how's that for mixed metaphors!)
I'm on the right track now. It feels great. I know this story is a good one. And I feel like my perseverance through the hard part and my willingness to revamp it, even this far in, has made it stronger and made me love it more.
Maybe I'll post a real post soon, about something besides "my progress."
4/11/2007
The good news: I managed 2274 words on my WIP yesterday.
The bad news: I attended my monthly writers group last night and heard an excellent talk on story structure and now I need to rethink and rework parts of my WIP.
The good news: A man was at writers group who I know but who has never attended before. I had written down his name as someone I'd like to talk to about some research points of a half-finished story. He told me he'd answer my questions!
The bad news: Today is another day where my writing time is being squeezed out due to an appointment with my child. So instead of a writing day, it's a faith day--a day that challenges me to believe that God is ultimately in control of my writing and my time.
The bad news: I attended my monthly writers group last night and heard an excellent talk on story structure and now I need to rethink and rework parts of my WIP.
The good news: A man was at writers group who I know but who has never attended before. I had written down his name as someone I'd like to talk to about some research points of a half-finished story. He told me he'd answer my questions!
The bad news: Today is another day where my writing time is being squeezed out due to an appointment with my child. So instead of a writing day, it's a faith day--a day that challenges me to believe that God is ultimately in control of my writing and my time.
4/09/2007
Celebrating Life
Easter around my house brings unique thoughts of new life. My first child was born on March 28, 1991, the Thursday before Easter. We came home from the hospital on Saturday and celebrated Easter Sunday morning at home with our three-day-old baby.
My second child was born on April 8, 1993, ten days after my daughter’s second birthday and also on the Thursday before Easter! Again, we came home on Saturday and celebrated Easter Sunday morning with a newborn baby.
So Easter around our house often encompasses birthday celebrations as well as the celebration of the Lord’s death and resurrection. And this year, child #2’s birthday fell on Easter Sunday.
I am truly amazed and humbled by the grace of God, by the new life given to my by Jesus’ death and life, as I look at my children. I couldn’t be a mother without the Lord in my life. It just isn’t in me to be patient and kind and loving. But those things have grown in me as I’ve grown in the Lord.
So as I celebrated Easter on Sunday, I celebrated life—Jesus’, my own, and my children’s.
My second child was born on April 8, 1993, ten days after my daughter’s second birthday and also on the Thursday before Easter! Again, we came home on Saturday and celebrated Easter Sunday morning with a newborn baby.
So Easter around our house often encompasses birthday celebrations as well as the celebration of the Lord’s death and resurrection. And this year, child #2’s birthday fell on Easter Sunday.
I am truly amazed and humbled by the grace of God, by the new life given to my by Jesus’ death and life, as I look at my children. I couldn’t be a mother without the Lord in my life. It just isn’t in me to be patient and kind and loving. But those things have grown in me as I’ve grown in the Lord.
So as I celebrated Easter on Sunday, I celebrated life—Jesus’, my own, and my children’s.
4/05/2007
4/04/2007
A New Plan
I’m not crazy.
I went through my calendar for the past few weeks and marked days where my schedule actually allowed more than a couple of consecutive free hours for writing in the course of my day. (I admit, I’ve gotten use to writing in blocks of time.) There weren’t many.
So I printed a blank April calendar, went through my schedule, and marked off the days that already won’t allow for writing time and then marked the ones that will. If I can pound out 2000 words on each of those days the first draft of my historical fiction will be finished by the end of May.
Can I do it? I can if I stay accountable to someone—and who better than my faithful blog readers? My intention is to post my word count at the end of every “W” day (writing day, as you may have surmised, or perhaps remembered from Liz Curtis Higgs’ suggestion at ACFW last year). Just having to put it out there in black and white should nudge my pride into the stubbornness it needs to complete the task.
I love writing. I just tend to put it on the back burner to deal with everyone else’s life. But if God has truly called me to write, He’ll help me find the time in the midst of life—and in spite of it.
So look for some short and sweet posts of my progress over the next few weeks (along with other posts). I’ll look forward to any encouragement you can give!
I went through my calendar for the past few weeks and marked days where my schedule actually allowed more than a couple of consecutive free hours for writing in the course of my day. (I admit, I’ve gotten use to writing in blocks of time.) There weren’t many.
So I printed a blank April calendar, went through my schedule, and marked off the days that already won’t allow for writing time and then marked the ones that will. If I can pound out 2000 words on each of those days the first draft of my historical fiction will be finished by the end of May.
Can I do it? I can if I stay accountable to someone—and who better than my faithful blog readers? My intention is to post my word count at the end of every “W” day (writing day, as you may have surmised, or perhaps remembered from Liz Curtis Higgs’ suggestion at ACFW last year). Just having to put it out there in black and white should nudge my pride into the stubbornness it needs to complete the task.
I love writing. I just tend to put it on the back burner to deal with everyone else’s life. But if God has truly called me to write, He’ll help me find the time in the midst of life—and in spite of it.
So look for some short and sweet posts of my progress over the next few weeks (along with other posts). I’ll look forward to any encouragement you can give!
3/31/2007
Ahhh, Rain
We had five baseball games scheduled to be played this week between our two boys. We ended up playing 2 ½ innings of one game, total.
I love rain!
I know, it will be a headache later when makeup games are inserted into the already busy weeks to come, but I do love the unexpected time off—especially the Saturday we thought would entail about seven hours of baseball, including travel time.
Now I get to fill the day with other things, like finishing the book I’m in reading, washing the clothes that are spilling out over the laundry basket, and enjoying the brilliant sunshine that has replaced the gray of the past week.
I love rain!
I know, it will be a headache later when makeup games are inserted into the already busy weeks to come, but I do love the unexpected time off—especially the Saturday we thought would entail about seven hours of baseball, including travel time.
Now I get to fill the day with other things, like finishing the book I’m in reading, washing the clothes that are spilling out over the laundry basket, and enjoying the brilliant sunshine that has replaced the gray of the past week.
3/22/2007
Inspiration
Since my daughter has started cooking up a storm, I’ve decided I have to find time to exercise (because she is an awesome cook and I’d hurt her feelings if I didn’t eat!) So every morning now I get on this HeathRider thing I inherited from my grandmother and turn on a Tivoed episode of the Waltons.
I’ve always loved the Waltons, but in this time of writing discouragement it’s been really meaningful. John Boy struggles with his dreams of being a published writer just like I do. I can so relate to his feelings, to his frustrations. And yet rather than giving me fodder for further discouragement, I leave my exercise session inspired, eager to sit in my office and see words fill my computer screen, to work toward the fulfillment of my God-inspired dream—for myself, for my family, for readers and writers everywhere.
I’ve always loved the Waltons, but in this time of writing discouragement it’s been really meaningful. John Boy struggles with his dreams of being a published writer just like I do. I can so relate to his feelings, to his frustrations. And yet rather than giving me fodder for further discouragement, I leave my exercise session inspired, eager to sit in my office and see words fill my computer screen, to work toward the fulfillment of my God-inspired dream—for myself, for my family, for readers and writers everywhere.
Thanks!
Thanks to everyone who read my first chapter and rated or commented on it. I so appreciate you taking the time to do that. It was quite interesting to have it out there--kind of American Idolish in that watching others' ratings I sometimes felt the unfairness of people's opinions. But that's okay. I know that's the kind of thing the will happen if real publication ever comes, and you have to be able to take it!
I don't expect it to go any further in that contest, but if by some miracle it does, you can be sure I'll let you know!
I don't expect it to go any further in that contest, but if by some miracle it does, you can be sure I'll let you know!
3/21/2007
3/19/2007
Write and Re-write
*Sigh*
When do you really know something is done? I’ve worked for a good while now on the rewrite of my historical fiction. I’m moving forward, making progress, but I keep going back to the opening paragraphs, worrying that they aren’t enough to compel the reader forward into the story.
To make matters worse, I intend to enter it in the Genesis contest, the one I made it to the finals of last year. Talk about pressure! What if I don’t live up to the standard of my own previous achievements? Then again, what if I do???
Needless to say, the situation is wreaking havoc on the editor in my brain. For the first time in a couple of years I’m ready to wad it up and toss it away rather than knowing it can be made better with a fresh perspective, a little time.
But the deadline approaches. At some point, I have to leave it as it is. I just wish there was a little pop-up button, like on a turkey, to let me know when it’s really ready.
When do you really know something is done? I’ve worked for a good while now on the rewrite of my historical fiction. I’m moving forward, making progress, but I keep going back to the opening paragraphs, worrying that they aren’t enough to compel the reader forward into the story.
To make matters worse, I intend to enter it in the Genesis contest, the one I made it to the finals of last year. Talk about pressure! What if I don’t live up to the standard of my own previous achievements? Then again, what if I do???
Needless to say, the situation is wreaking havoc on the editor in my brain. For the first time in a couple of years I’m ready to wad it up and toss it away rather than knowing it can be made better with a fresh perspective, a little time.
But the deadline approaches. At some point, I have to leave it as it is. I just wish there was a little pop-up button, like on a turkey, to let me know when it’s really ready.
3/17/2007
A Break from Spring Break
I thought I’d have time to post quite a bit over Spring Break. But, alas, while it has been a break for my children, it has been 100x busier than normal life for me! This is my first day with no appointments, no pressing errands. I might actually be able to do one or two of the things here at home that I need to do! But the kids go back on Monday, so I’m determined to use this weekend to get things in order around my house so I can write again first thing Monday morning.
3/12/2007
The Power of Story
I watched Princess Diaries again the other day. I love that movie on many different levels. I’d been missing it, the songs from the soundtrack popping up every now and again on my ipod. So I stuck it in while I was alone on Sunday afternoon—the boys and hubby at baseball practice, my daughter at school working on the yearbook. I spent most of the movie picking up around the house, doing dishes, etc. But near the end of the film I sat down and watched.
It was just at the part where she runs into the ball, dripping wet, and accepts being a princess. I bawled. This time the spiritual application hit me square in the face. Suddenly I saw myself in the character.
Do you see it, too? We are insignificant nobodies until one day we accept Christ and become somebody—a child of the King of Kings. But we are still a mess. We have to undergo a transformation—often while kicking and screaming—in order to better reflect who our Father is. We get put in uncomfortable situations. We mess up. We even try to quit. But along the journey, we grow. And eventually, we get it. I am God’s child. I am who He says I am. And we stand up and accept it.
I’ve been there. And I so well remember the time in my life when I finally stood up and accepted that I’d been grafted into a royal bloodline. However, as Mia tells the faithful Michael just a few moments later—after she’s been transformed from a drowned rat into a beautiful princess—“I may be royal, but I’m still me.” I cried again, realizing that God’s transformation of us doesn’t change who we are, it enhances it. We become more truly who He made us to be.
I got all of that out of a sweet coming-of-age Disney romance. And isn’t that the power of story?
It was just at the part where she runs into the ball, dripping wet, and accepts being a princess. I bawled. This time the spiritual application hit me square in the face. Suddenly I saw myself in the character.
Do you see it, too? We are insignificant nobodies until one day we accept Christ and become somebody—a child of the King of Kings. But we are still a mess. We have to undergo a transformation—often while kicking and screaming—in order to better reflect who our Father is. We get put in uncomfortable situations. We mess up. We even try to quit. But along the journey, we grow. And eventually, we get it. I am God’s child. I am who He says I am. And we stand up and accept it.
I’ve been there. And I so well remember the time in my life when I finally stood up and accepted that I’d been grafted into a royal bloodline. However, as Mia tells the faithful Michael just a few moments later—after she’s been transformed from a drowned rat into a beautiful princess—“I may be royal, but I’m still me.” I cried again, realizing that God’s transformation of us doesn’t change who we are, it enhances it. We become more truly who He made us to be.
I got all of that out of a sweet coming-of-age Disney romance. And isn’t that the power of story?
3/09/2007
The Brotherhood (or Sisterhood) of Readers
When I think about the people in my life with whom I’ve formed immediate connections, then intimate relationships, I see a common thread. They are readers. Yes, most of them are Christians, too, but there are lost of Christians in the world I don’t necessarily click with. And yet there are also people who don’t share my faith with whom I can bond over books.
I got to thinking about this—the brotherhood of readers—when I had my house sprayed for bugs the other day. I have that done regularly because I can’t stand the sight or even thought of a bug crawling around my house. (Can you tell I’m not really an outdoorsy kind of gal, either?) Anyway, the same company has been doing this for me for several years. The technicians are nice, hardworking people, but I’ve never really felt any connection with them other than the few moments they spend in my house four times a year.
So a new guy shows up at my door. Nice young man. (Well, younger than me, anyway.) He sprays the outside, then comes in. I ask him to do my office first since my husband is about to get on a conference call in there. When he comes into the living room (where I am working on my laptop), he says, “I noticed all your books. Who likes to read?”
I think I probably blushed. (The amount of books we own can sometimes prove embarrassing.) “My husband and I,” I answer. His face lit up as mentioned a particular author he’d seen on my shelves. Then he told me about the books by his favorite authors that he recently found at a flea market, and one given to him by a client. He tells me of the current novel that has grabbed his attention and his eagerness resonates with my own. His favorite genre isn’t one I particularly enjoy, but the writers he cited are known for writing well.
We connected as we talked. I asked his name. He said he looked forward to coming back. He’s an average Joe, probably with no more than a high school diploma. I don’t know knows the Lord or not. But he’s a reader. And I found myself thinking of him as my friend.
I got to thinking about this—the brotherhood of readers—when I had my house sprayed for bugs the other day. I have that done regularly because I can’t stand the sight or even thought of a bug crawling around my house. (Can you tell I’m not really an outdoorsy kind of gal, either?) Anyway, the same company has been doing this for me for several years. The technicians are nice, hardworking people, but I’ve never really felt any connection with them other than the few moments they spend in my house four times a year.
So a new guy shows up at my door. Nice young man. (Well, younger than me, anyway.) He sprays the outside, then comes in. I ask him to do my office first since my husband is about to get on a conference call in there. When he comes into the living room (where I am working on my laptop), he says, “I noticed all your books. Who likes to read?”
I think I probably blushed. (The amount of books we own can sometimes prove embarrassing.) “My husband and I,” I answer. His face lit up as mentioned a particular author he’d seen on my shelves. Then he told me about the books by his favorite authors that he recently found at a flea market, and one given to him by a client. He tells me of the current novel that has grabbed his attention and his eagerness resonates with my own. His favorite genre isn’t one I particularly enjoy, but the writers he cited are known for writing well.
We connected as we talked. I asked his name. He said he looked forward to coming back. He’s an average Joe, probably with no more than a high school diploma. I don’t know knows the Lord or not. But he’s a reader. And I found myself thinking of him as my friend.
3/07/2007
A Chance to Read and Rate
Ever wonder about what I write? Well here’s your chance not only to read something, but to give it a rating, as well.
I entered my legal thriller, Monkey in the Middle, in a contest at gather.com. To read and comment or rate my first chapter (and hopefully catapult me into round 2), you must register (it’s free) here, then go here
to see my work.
It’s only up for comment for 14 days and the votes are tallied by readers’ ratings.
I’m really not telling you this to drum up votes. I want your feedback. (Really. I’m thick-skinned now. I can take it. Just ask my critique group!) Does it draw you in? Does it turn you off? Are you confused or anxious to know more? Are the characters believable? Are they likable? Do they seem real or two dimensional?
I could go on, but I won’t. Read it for yourself, if you are so inclined.
Just thought you’d like to know.
I entered my legal thriller, Monkey in the Middle, in a contest at gather.com. To read and comment or rate my first chapter (and hopefully catapult me into round 2), you must register (it’s free) here
to see my work.
It’s only up for comment for 14 days and the votes are tallied by readers’ ratings.
I’m really not telling you this to drum up votes. I want your feedback. (Really. I’m thick-skinned now. I can take it. Just ask my critique group!) Does it draw you in? Does it turn you off? Are you confused or anxious to know more? Are the characters believable? Are they likable? Do they seem real or two dimensional?
I could go on, but I won’t. Read it for yourself, if you are so inclined.
Just thought you’d like to know.
3/05/2007
My Comfy Place
I have a love/hate relationship with my office. I love the look of it. Ceiling-high bookshelves—stuffed to overflowing—line two walls. An L-shaped desk juts into the center of the room, providing a separate desktop space for my kids’ computer. I have a rolling, high-back chair, even a plastic mat on the floor to keep it from catching on the carpet. There is a stereo system as well as a large closet. Even a door into the bathroom.
Light streams in from the oblong window over the desk or shines from the four light fixtures attached to the ceiling fan. My two cross-stitched samplers, relics from my pre-child past, flank the window and a denim memo board covers a square of wall usually hidden behind the open door. Printer paper and office supplies are within easy reach.
It’s perfect, really.
So why can’t I work in there? What is my aversion to sitting at a desk? I would be more productive, I think, than sitting in my overstuffed chair in the corner of the living room. From there I see dishes that need cleaning, dinner that needs fixing. I see a dark TV set that could transport me into the storyworld of a movie (literature-based, of course—at least that’s what I try to tell myself.) I listen for the mailman. The sunny deck out back beckons me. In short, I don’t get as much writing done as I’d like to—as I think I ought to.
But somehow I end up with great word counts when I’m forced into the hidey-hole of my office for the day. And I love it while I’m in there. I guess it’s just a matter of foregoing my comfy place in order to fully do what God has called me to do. And isn’t that true, no matter what our calling is?
Light streams in from the oblong window over the desk or shines from the four light fixtures attached to the ceiling fan. My two cross-stitched samplers, relics from my pre-child past, flank the window and a denim memo board covers a square of wall usually hidden behind the open door. Printer paper and office supplies are within easy reach.
It’s perfect, really.
So why can’t I work in there? What is my aversion to sitting at a desk? I would be more productive, I think, than sitting in my overstuffed chair in the corner of the living room. From there I see dishes that need cleaning, dinner that needs fixing. I see a dark TV set that could transport me into the storyworld of a movie (literature-based, of course—at least that’s what I try to tell myself.) I listen for the mailman. The sunny deck out back beckons me. In short, I don’t get as much writing done as I’d like to—as I think I ought to.
But somehow I end up with great word counts when I’m forced into the hidey-hole of my office for the day. And I love it while I’m in there. I guess it’s just a matter of foregoing my comfy place in order to fully do what God has called me to do. And isn’t that true, no matter what our calling is?
3/01/2007
Rockwall Christian Writers Group
Rockwall Christian Writers Group, which I help lead, has a web presence! If you live in the Dallas area, come join us!
www.rcwg.blogspot.com
www.rcwg.blogspot.com
2/26/2007
The Best Birthday Gift
We just got back home from three glorious days in “The City That Never Sleeps.” We stayed in the fabulous literary and historical Algonquin Hotel, applauded 4 musicals and 1 cabaret show over the course of 36 hours, ate my birthday brunch at Tavern on the Green in Central Park, gawked at two celebrities, visited with a dear friend who lives in the city, toured Teddy Roosevelt’s birthplace, shopped at the Strand Bookstore (18 miles of books!), and even rode the subway. It was quite a trip. Makes me wish I could turn 40 every year!
But the most amazing thing I discovered on this trip was how much my husband and I have matured over the past few years. We are more confident in ourselves and each other. We aren’t as uptight, aren’t as worried that we won’t meet each other’s unspoken expectations. We were able to relax and enjoy being together in spite of circumstances—perfect or otherwise. Yet this maturity, I realized, isn’t simply due to physical age. It is the work of the Lord in each of our lives—His often painful molding us into the image of Christ. We certainly haven’t arrived. This we know. And that is just the attitude we need to maintain in order to continue to grow in our relationships with the Lord and with each other.
So while I had an almost idyllic 40th birthday celebration in New York, the best present I received this weekend was from the Lord. He allowed me a glimpse into the amazing work He has done in my heart, my husband’s heart, and our marriage over the past 19 years.
And ok, I’m 40 now. I’m ready to settle down and WRITE!
But the most amazing thing I discovered on this trip was how much my husband and I have matured over the past few years. We are more confident in ourselves and each other. We aren’t as uptight, aren’t as worried that we won’t meet each other’s unspoken expectations. We were able to relax and enjoy being together in spite of circumstances—perfect or otherwise. Yet this maturity, I realized, isn’t simply due to physical age. It is the work of the Lord in each of our lives—His often painful molding us into the image of Christ. We certainly haven’t arrived. This we know. And that is just the attitude we need to maintain in order to continue to grow in our relationships with the Lord and with each other.
So while I had an almost idyllic 40th birthday celebration in New York, the best present I received this weekend was from the Lord. He allowed me a glimpse into the amazing work He has done in my heart, my husband’s heart, and our marriage over the past 19 years.
And ok, I’m 40 now. I’m ready to settle down and WRITE!
2/20/2007
Here are pictures of my party--as promised. Thanks, Debra and Cheryl.
My husband and kids who worked so hard to put it all together--and to keep it a secret!
Don't my Valentine's Day roses make a nice addition? This was just the dessert table!
My mother gave me this shirt. Quite appropriate, huh?
In about 48 hours we'll be in the Big Apple. You won't hear from me again until next week. I won't be getting any writing done, but every experience is fodder for the imagination! And NYC is a great place to people-watch. Hope y'all have a fun weekend, too. Wherever you are.
2/17/2007
SURPRISE!!
I never would have thought he could pull it off.
Friday night, I walked in my house after a dinner-and-bookstore date to find a slew of family and friends and two tables full of food! Happy 40th Birthday to me! (I hope to post a picture or two very soon.)
My husband and kids, mom and sisters did an awesome job. No one slipped once. I had absolutely no idea! I was speechless!
Then, when I thought it couldn’t get any better, my darling husband surprised me with a trip to New York City!! This coming weekend!! Oh my!! We went 6 ½ years ago and had a great time—in fact that may have been the last time we went away alone! He even pre-brought tickets for a couple of musicals so we wouldn’t have to freeze in the TKTS line!
So I’m off to find another warm sweater (my Texas winter wardrobe won’t quite cut it), a new purse, and a comfy, warm pair of shoes. And come Thursday, we’re on our way. I love my husband!
I think 40 is going to be great.
Friday night, I walked in my house after a dinner-and-bookstore date to find a slew of family and friends and two tables full of food! Happy 40th Birthday to me! (I hope to post a picture or two very soon.)
My husband and kids, mom and sisters did an awesome job. No one slipped once. I had absolutely no idea! I was speechless!
Then, when I thought it couldn’t get any better, my darling husband surprised me with a trip to New York City!! This coming weekend!! Oh my!! We went 6 ½ years ago and had a great time—in fact that may have been the last time we went away alone! He even pre-brought tickets for a couple of musicals so we wouldn’t have to freeze in the TKTS line!
So I’m off to find another warm sweater (my Texas winter wardrobe won’t quite cut it), a new purse, and a comfy, warm pair of shoes. And come Thursday, we’re on our way. I love my husband!
I think 40 is going to be great.
2/15/2007
A Story Resurrected
An email popped up in my inbox late last week. It referenced a story I wrote long ago. It was a flash fiction story—less than 500 words—that garnered an Honorable Mention, along with $25, in a Whim’s Place contest.
Now, two and a half years later, they are doing an anthology and want to include my story! Isn’t that fun? Out of the blue. A story I still read and am amazed that I wrote.
This will be the second time one of my contest entry stories has ended up in an anthology. I know, not many people outside of the contributors and their families will buy it, but it’s awesome to see your name, your words in a real book.
Now, two and a half years later, they are doing an anthology and want to include my story! Isn’t that fun? Out of the blue. A story I still read and am amazed that I wrote.
This will be the second time one of my contest entry stories has ended up in an anthology. I know, not many people outside of the contributors and their families will buy it, but it’s awesome to see your name, your words in a real book.
2/10/2007
A Great Date
I know it isn’t everyone’s definition of perfect, but for Jeff and me, it’s pretty close. This morning (Saturday), we left our kids to fend for themselves (I love teenagers!) while we drove to the local university library so I could return some books and check out others. Jeff and I both graduated from this university (me, undergrad, Jeff, law), so being back on campus was a romantic reminiscence.
After the library, we drove to a nearby mall to check out the Apple Store. We are newbie Mac owners (as of this fall) and have just discovered the wonders of the Apple Store. We picked up some software we’ve been meaning to get and headed out for a scrumptious lunch at the Cheesecake Factory (compliments of a Christmas gift card), a foray into Barnes and Noble (again with a gift card) and the obligatory stop at Half Price Books (where, of course, we found some treasures.)
We were only away four hours—about the same as a nighttime date—but somehow I came home so much more satisfied, more relaxed. A great date with a great guy. It doesn’t get much better.
After the library, we drove to a nearby mall to check out the Apple Store. We are newbie Mac owners (as of this fall) and have just discovered the wonders of the Apple Store. We picked up some software we’ve been meaning to get and headed out for a scrumptious lunch at the Cheesecake Factory (compliments of a Christmas gift card), a foray into Barnes and Noble (again with a gift card) and the obligatory stop at Half Price Books (where, of course, we found some treasures.)
We were only away four hours—about the same as a nighttime date—but somehow I came home so much more satisfied, more relaxed. A great date with a great guy. It doesn’t get much better.
2/06/2007
Fizzled Party Plans
I’ve always enjoyed a good party. Not parties I’m in charge of. In fact, those are usually dismal failures! But the thought of my only daughter’s16th birthday put me in the party mood. I’ve been mulling it over for the past year, what to do, who to invite.
She hasn’t been much help. Now with the day fast approaching, I pushed her for some decisions.
“Have you decided anything about your party?” I asked the other day.
“Mom, I don’t want a party.”
Surely I’d heard her wrong. What 16-year-old—girl or boy—doesn’t jump at the chance when their parents offer to throw them a party? And a sweet 16 party at that! Maybe she just didn’t want a big party. Fine. We could scale down. But even as my mind whirled, she continued.
“You were the one that wanted a party. Not me.”
Yes, I did want a party. Out of my overflow of love for her, I wanted to give her more than a party. I wanted to give her memories. I loved my 16th birthday. I wanted her to be able to look back her 16th birthday with the same fondness I did. But I learn, yet again, that she is not like me in every way. We don’t always enjoy or appreciate the same things and our dreams often take divergent paths.
Of course I won’t force a party on her. But I’m disappointed. She’ll turn 16 on a day near the end of March. We’ll go get her official drivers license, have dinner and cake with the family (immediate and extended), and that will be that.
She hasn’t been much help. Now with the day fast approaching, I pushed her for some decisions.
“Have you decided anything about your party?” I asked the other day.
“Mom, I don’t want a party.”
Surely I’d heard her wrong. What 16-year-old—girl or boy—doesn’t jump at the chance when their parents offer to throw them a party? And a sweet 16 party at that! Maybe she just didn’t want a big party. Fine. We could scale down. But even as my mind whirled, she continued.
“You were the one that wanted a party. Not me.”
Yes, I did want a party. Out of my overflow of love for her, I wanted to give her more than a party. I wanted to give her memories. I loved my 16th birthday. I wanted her to be able to look back her 16th birthday with the same fondness I did. But I learn, yet again, that she is not like me in every way. We don’t always enjoy or appreciate the same things and our dreams often take divergent paths.
Of course I won’t force a party on her. But I’m disappointed. She’ll turn 16 on a day near the end of March. We’ll go get her official drivers license, have dinner and cake with the family (immediate and extended), and that will be that.
1/31/2007
I Love Research!
For the first time since college I’ve immersed myself in scholarly works of history, books dedicated to specific topics and specific time periods. I used to be one of those people who dreamed of documenting the life of an ordinary person in an extraordinary time or finding a connection between two things hitherto unconnected. I’d write an informative yet interesting book as my doctoral thesis before moving on to my real love: historical fiction.
Well, grad school never materialized—but the historical fiction did. As I began rewriting my historical novel into two historical romances, I found myself needing to research once again, needing to heed the advice of my college history professor.
He was unusual, this professor, in that he didn’t poo-poo my dream of writing historical fiction. He only adjured me to write out of my knowledge of a time and place, not to fictionalize a famous event or person. I’ve never forgotten his advice or the time he took to give it to me.
So after a complete re-do of my first three chapters, I high-tailed it to the local university library. Back in my element. Back to years of research for college history classes. Eager to unearth the knowledge that would explain my characters, give them accuracy and motivation, and provide fodder for plot twists, I brought several books home with me. But I found myself wanting to stay in that place, to lose track of time while perusing entire shelves of interesting titles. I felt like a college student once again, the world wide open before me.
I still have some research left to do before I let myself become engrossed in my storyworld once more. But my storyworld will be so much richer for the time spent reading about the real thing. And since I love both aspects, it’s a win-win situation!
Well, grad school never materialized—but the historical fiction did. As I began rewriting my historical novel into two historical romances, I found myself needing to research once again, needing to heed the advice of my college history professor.
He was unusual, this professor, in that he didn’t poo-poo my dream of writing historical fiction. He only adjured me to write out of my knowledge of a time and place, not to fictionalize a famous event or person. I’ve never forgotten his advice or the time he took to give it to me.
So after a complete re-do of my first three chapters, I high-tailed it to the local university library. Back in my element. Back to years of research for college history classes. Eager to unearth the knowledge that would explain my characters, give them accuracy and motivation, and provide fodder for plot twists, I brought several books home with me. But I found myself wanting to stay in that place, to lose track of time while perusing entire shelves of interesting titles. I felt like a college student once again, the world wide open before me.
I still have some research left to do before I let myself become engrossed in my storyworld once more. But my storyworld will be so much richer for the time spent reading about the real thing. And since I love both aspects, it’s a win-win situation!
1/29/2007
Pining for the Classics
I’m a classics girl at heart, but over the past year or so, I’ve forced myself to read more current fiction, stuff published in the last four or five years. I felt this was necessary to my growth as a writer, to understanding the markets and what is making it through the arduous publishing process.
I’ve found some great authors, read some entertaining and moving stories. But I’m pining for the classics again. I want to wrap myself in the stories and characters that transcend time and culture. I want to study masters of the craft—even if they wrote in omniscient points of view and used passive verbs. They managed to tell stories that remain about characters that shape our own lives.
So, after sighing through four hours of Masterpiece Theatre’s new production of Jane Eyre, I’m off on a classics binge, the movie stirring the appetite within me to read Charlotte Bronte’s words once more. Some titles—such as Jane Eyre—will be pulled from my bookshelves and experienced for the 2nd, 7th, 20th time. Some will be books and authors I’ve heard of but haven’t yet added to my list of “have-read.”
Now if I could only read them in front of a blazing fire with nothing else calling for my attention . . .
I’ve found some great authors, read some entertaining and moving stories. But I’m pining for the classics again. I want to wrap myself in the stories and characters that transcend time and culture. I want to study masters of the craft—even if they wrote in omniscient points of view and used passive verbs. They managed to tell stories that remain about characters that shape our own lives.
So, after sighing through four hours of Masterpiece Theatre’s new production of Jane Eyre, I’m off on a classics binge, the movie stirring the appetite within me to read Charlotte Bronte’s words once more. Some titles—such as Jane Eyre—will be pulled from my bookshelves and experienced for the 2nd, 7th, 20th time. Some will be books and authors I’ve heard of but haven’t yet added to my list of “have-read.”
Now if I could only read them in front of a blazing fire with nothing else calling for my attention . . .
1/25/2007
On Characters
I’m always looking for examples of three-dimensional characters in books. I mean, that’s what the writing books tell you to write, but what do they look like? In the past couple of weeks I’ve read two books that have these characters in abundance: Also the Hills by Frances Parkinson Keyes and The Glass Lake by Maeve Binchy.
For me, a three-dimensional character is one that comes alive. The person is no longer confined to the page. It is someone I know so well that I imagine someday I will pass that person in a mall or at a restaurant. I’ll recognize them, have to stop myself before I speak. But it goes beyond the physical even. I find myself wondering about that person, as if they lived and breathed, wondering what their future holds (or held.)
Those are the characters I want to in my own books. People that leap from black and white into glorious Technicolor, that linger in the reader’s mind for days, weeks, years to come. Characters as complex as people really are, whose decisions and feelings make sense in the context of their past, their culture, their place in time.
If I ever make it to Ireland, I imagine Kit and Clio, Helen and Martin and Maura will be everywhere. If I visit New Hampshire, I know I’ll spy the Farman family and their neighbors—or at least the remnants of them—in some small villiage. They will be old by now, having lived their youth during WWII.
So I read on—making new friends, re-acquainting myself with old ones. And I return to my own work-in-progress inspired.
For me, a three-dimensional character is one that comes alive. The person is no longer confined to the page. It is someone I know so well that I imagine someday I will pass that person in a mall or at a restaurant. I’ll recognize them, have to stop myself before I speak. But it goes beyond the physical even. I find myself wondering about that person, as if they lived and breathed, wondering what their future holds (or held.)
Those are the characters I want to in my own books. People that leap from black and white into glorious Technicolor, that linger in the reader’s mind for days, weeks, years to come. Characters as complex as people really are, whose decisions and feelings make sense in the context of their past, their culture, their place in time.
If I ever make it to Ireland, I imagine Kit and Clio, Helen and Martin and Maura will be everywhere. If I visit New Hampshire, I know I’ll spy the Farman family and their neighbors—or at least the remnants of them—in some small villiage. They will be old by now, having lived their youth during WWII.
So I read on—making new friends, re-acquainting myself with old ones. And I return to my own work-in-progress inspired.
1/20/2007
A Lesson from Moses
I was reading, again, the story of Moses, and I was struck by a profound truth I’ve often overlooked, yet find playing out in my own life and the lives of those around me. The truth is this: sometimes we just have to pay attention to what God is doing. Our attention opens the door for him to speak and act.
In Exodus 3, Moses goes up on Horeb with his father-in-law’s flock. No big deal. Pretty mundane, in fact. There he sees a bush burning, but not consumed. “I must turn aside now and see this marvelous sight,” he says in verse. 3. Okay, so all that I’ve seen before. But the beginning of verse 4 leapt out at me today. It says this: “When the Lord saw that he turned aside to look.” It all started with Moses noticing what God was doing—noticing the bush in the midst of his daily drudgery and turning aside to look.
Then God spoke to him. God didn’t call out to try to get Moses’ attention while he was looking the other way. He spoke once Moses noticed the bush and stopped to look.
Have you seen this in your own life? I have. When I stopped to look—and call about—that first writers group, I ended up with a critique group and writer friends and more confidence in my calling to write. When I paid attention to the possibility of attending my first writers conference, it led a fun trip, some encouraging words from people in the publishing industry, and again, confidence that the Lord had called and gifted me to write.
It all begins with stopping and looking at those things God is using to get our attention in the middle of our normal, daily lives.
In Exodus 3, Moses goes up on Horeb with his father-in-law’s flock. No big deal. Pretty mundane, in fact. There he sees a bush burning, but not consumed. “I must turn aside now and see this marvelous sight,” he says in verse. 3. Okay, so all that I’ve seen before. But the beginning of verse 4 leapt out at me today. It says this: “When the Lord saw that he turned aside to look.” It all started with Moses noticing what God was doing—noticing the bush in the midst of his daily drudgery and turning aside to look.
Then God spoke to him. God didn’t call out to try to get Moses’ attention while he was looking the other way. He spoke once Moses noticed the bush and stopped to look.
Have you seen this in your own life? I have. When I stopped to look—and call about—that first writers group, I ended up with a critique group and writer friends and more confidence in my calling to write. When I paid attention to the possibility of attending my first writers conference, it led a fun trip, some encouraging words from people in the publishing industry, and again, confidence that the Lord had called and gifted me to write.
It all begins with stopping and looking at those things God is using to get our attention in the middle of our normal, daily lives.
1/16/2007
To all you writers out there groping in the darkness of your room with only your computer screen for company:
GET THEE TO A WRITERS GROUP!!
It was just about this time of year 5 years ago that my husband saw a tiny announcement in our local newspaper. A Christian writers group meeting about 15 minutes from my home.
“You should go,” he said.
“I don’t know.”
“Here.” He handed me the cut out square of paper. “At least call the number and ask about it.” (Hm, I wonder if he regrets that yet!)
I summoned all my courage and called. Then I showed up at the meeting. Since I had been really working on my writing for the past couple of years, I even had something to bring for critique. I took a deep breath and plunged ahead.
A few months later, I found myself in a critique group with people who knew a whole lot more than me but took me in anyway—Leslie Wilson and Mary DeMuth (and Suzanne Deschidn, before she moved away.) We formed a bond. We named ourselves Life Sentence.
All of a sudden, I had a real support system for my writing life, people to help me move toward my dream. Since then, I’ve met so many others through conferences and online writer organizations like The Writers View and American Christian Fiction Writers. I’ve written a lot. I’ve published a bit. But most of all, I’ve made some really good friends.
So what are you waiting for? Find out who else is out there—in your city, in your town, in cyberspace—pounding away at the keys of their computer, wondering if what they’ve written is worth reading. Link arms and walk the journey together. It’s always better that way.
GET THEE TO A WRITERS GROUP!!
It was just about this time of year 5 years ago that my husband saw a tiny announcement in our local newspaper. A Christian writers group meeting about 15 minutes from my home.
“You should go,” he said.
“I don’t know.”
“Here.” He handed me the cut out square of paper. “At least call the number and ask about it.” (Hm, I wonder if he regrets that yet!)
I summoned all my courage and called. Then I showed up at the meeting. Since I had been really working on my writing for the past couple of years, I even had something to bring for critique. I took a deep breath and plunged ahead.
A few months later, I found myself in a critique group with people who knew a whole lot more than me but took me in anyway—Leslie Wilson and Mary DeMuth (and Suzanne Deschidn, before she moved away.) We formed a bond. We named ourselves Life Sentence.
All of a sudden, I had a real support system for my writing life, people to help me move toward my dream. Since then, I’ve met so many others through conferences and online writer organizations like The Writers View and American Christian Fiction Writers. I’ve written a lot. I’ve published a bit. But most of all, I’ve made some really good friends.
So what are you waiting for? Find out who else is out there—in your city, in your town, in cyberspace—pounding away at the keys of their computer, wondering if what they’ve written is worth reading. Link arms and walk the journey together. It’s always better that way.
1/11/2007
The Big Picture
Lots of thoughts about goals and mission statements and such have been floating around my writerly associations since the new year. I’ve been pondering these things. I know that my writing has been a bit haphazard over the years and I suddenly have a need to know what I’m doing, what I’m aiming for. I think it would give me more confidence in pitching my work to editors and agents. But the big picture has always been a bit of a challenge for me to see. I see details. I see the moment.
So I began by considering my desires as a reader. As a reader, I want a book that hangs together well—in other words, a good story. I don’t want a story to try to tell too much or too little of the lives of the people involved. I want some meaning, something relevant to flow out of that story and pierce my own heart.
But I want more than just a good story. I want it peopled with multi-dimensional, believable characters. Characters that I believe in. Characters that struggle with their lives, their feelings, their relationship with God and others, just like I do. I want to watch them, learn from them.
And I want colorful, strong words strung into sentences that have a rhythm to them—the rhythm that fits the story they tell. Words that make me hurt with their beauty or their pain. Words that make me feel the story and the characters.
For me, the most powerful fiction has been all of these things—and I have come away changed from the reading of it. So shouldn’t that be the type of fiction I want to write? I know this definition doesn’t really encompass a genre, but I’m okay with that for now. Looking back over my three completed novels, I see I’m working toward my goal. All three have a compelling premise—and I’m getting better at spinning a good premise into a good story. All three have characters who struggle not only with their physical circumstances but internally as well. They grow. They change. And with each novel, my words fit more exactly. I seem to have more control over them to make them do what I want them to do.
But even in this, the story and words seem to be only the vehicle for the character. That’s what really excites me—making the character come alive, making the reader feel their feelings until that character niggles a reader to the point of saying, “I see some of that in my own life; Lord help me change, too.” That’s what I want my stories to do. Challenge. Encourage. Be a catalyst for change.
I’m not sure it I’ve come up with a mission statement or a doable goal, but it’s something, a framework in which to fit all the other details of what I write.
So I began by considering my desires as a reader. As a reader, I want a book that hangs together well—in other words, a good story. I don’t want a story to try to tell too much or too little of the lives of the people involved. I want some meaning, something relevant to flow out of that story and pierce my own heart.
But I want more than just a good story. I want it peopled with multi-dimensional, believable characters. Characters that I believe in. Characters that struggle with their lives, their feelings, their relationship with God and others, just like I do. I want to watch them, learn from them.
And I want colorful, strong words strung into sentences that have a rhythm to them—the rhythm that fits the story they tell. Words that make me hurt with their beauty or their pain. Words that make me feel the story and the characters.
For me, the most powerful fiction has been all of these things—and I have come away changed from the reading of it. So shouldn’t that be the type of fiction I want to write? I know this definition doesn’t really encompass a genre, but I’m okay with that for now. Looking back over my three completed novels, I see I’m working toward my goal. All three have a compelling premise—and I’m getting better at spinning a good premise into a good story. All three have characters who struggle not only with their physical circumstances but internally as well. They grow. They change. And with each novel, my words fit more exactly. I seem to have more control over them to make them do what I want them to do.
But even in this, the story and words seem to be only the vehicle for the character. That’s what really excites me—making the character come alive, making the reader feel their feelings until that character niggles a reader to the point of saying, “I see some of that in my own life; Lord help me change, too.” That’s what I want my stories to do. Challenge. Encourage. Be a catalyst for change.
I’m not sure it I’ve come up with a mission statement or a doable goal, but it’s something, a framework in which to fit all the other details of what I write.
1/08/2007
Directionless
I’m in a quandary over what to do next. In the past six years I have taken two online writing classes through a major university, attended three big writing conferences, finished and submitted various articles and short stories with a variety of success, and finished three novels that have all been rejected in some form or fashion.
Now what?
Time to move on to the next project. But the decision is daunting. The quality of my writing has risen over the past six years. Now it’s a matter of story—and timing. I have several ideas in my head, but which is the right one? I continue to pray about it, but have no clear direction. Do I work on the Young Adult novel that spins in my head occasionally? What about the historicals? I have two or three ideas there. Contemporary? A strong romance element? Suspense? Mystery? Women’s fiction? Literary fiction?
See what I mean? Do I just pick one—eeny, meeny, miney, moe—and jump in, or should I be more intentional?
I read an interview with Ted Dekker. He also wrote three novels that didn’t sell. The fourth one did, but he wrote it more intentionally for the market. Is that what I need to do now? I know publication is not necessarily the be-all and end-all, but it sure seems like the Lord has moved me closer to that in the past few years. So do I ignore all that, or do I take it into consideration as I ponder the next book?
I’ll strategize with my market-savvy critique group, Life Sentence, on Wednesday, but I’d love to hear some other general responses, too. What do you like to read? What do you see a need for in fiction—besides something well-written? (Okay, so I’ll rant more on that later.) If you know me at all, is there a certain genre you can picture me writing and promoting?
Meanwhile, I’ll grind out some more newspaper articles for our school. But I’d rather be writing fiction . . .
Now what?
Time to move on to the next project. But the decision is daunting. The quality of my writing has risen over the past six years. Now it’s a matter of story—and timing. I have several ideas in my head, but which is the right one? I continue to pray about it, but have no clear direction. Do I work on the Young Adult novel that spins in my head occasionally? What about the historicals? I have two or three ideas there. Contemporary? A strong romance element? Suspense? Mystery? Women’s fiction? Literary fiction?
See what I mean? Do I just pick one—eeny, meeny, miney, moe—and jump in, or should I be more intentional?
I read an interview with Ted Dekker. He also wrote three novels that didn’t sell. The fourth one did, but he wrote it more intentionally for the market. Is that what I need to do now? I know publication is not necessarily the be-all and end-all, but it sure seems like the Lord has moved me closer to that in the past few years. So do I ignore all that, or do I take it into consideration as I ponder the next book?
I’ll strategize with my market-savvy critique group, Life Sentence, on Wednesday, but I’d love to hear some other general responses, too. What do you like to read? What do you see a need for in fiction—besides something well-written? (Okay, so I’ll rant more on that later.) If you know me at all, is there a certain genre you can picture me writing and promoting?
Meanwhile, I’ll grind out some more newspaper articles for our school. But I’d rather be writing fiction . . .
1/04/2007
Reclaiming Nick
I have always loved fiction that shows Biblical truth rather than tells it. Reclaiming Nick, Susan May Warren’s latest romance release, does just that. Chronicling Nick Noble’s return to his family ranch to face the past, Reclaiming Nick has captured my heart with its true-to-life characters, page-turning plot, and heart-rending truths.
I was privileged to talk with Susan May Warren about this new book which begins the Noble Legacy Series.
Me: Being from Texas, a western-themed romance is right up my alley. Have you always liked cowboys and/or things western or is this a new arena for you?
Susan: Oh, no, I’m truly a cowgirl at heart. My earliest pictures are of me in cool red boots, a turquoise hat and a fringed skirt riding my pony, Sun Dancer (aka, the springy horse in the corner of the basement). I longed to live on a ranch when I grew up, and train horses. My only Christmas wish growing up was a pony. And my favorite shows were Bonanza and Big Valley, and I grew up singing songs from Oklahoma. So, writing a story set in the modern day west, one into which I could interject my sass and favorite things about cowboys was a perfect fit for me.
Me: Where did the idea for Reclaiming Nick and the Noble Legacy series begin?
Susan: Reclaiming Nick, as you might guess, was not the original title. However, when I began to write the story, I realized that these stories were so family driven, that the books had to belong to the main characters. Hence, why we decided to name them, in essence, Nick, Rafe & Stefanie. However the themes I use are taken from Philippians, and are about being the people God desires us to be, people called by his name. His NOBLE name. *g* Actually, the name Nick Noble was born before we decided on the series name, but now I see how God orchestrated it all to work together. As for the idea for Nick – the premise came from a story of grace that is revealed in the book – one that deeply touched me. I began to wonder what a gift of grace might look like, not from the recipient, but the giver…one who never thought he’d never be redeemed. Hence, the story of Nick Noble, the prodigal, who longs to “reclaim” the legacy he forsook.
Me: What is your favorite part of the writing process—research, writing, editing, or marketing—and why?
Susan: I probably enjoy writing the best. Research is fun because I learn so much and it generates ideas, but the writing process for me is like watching a movie, in short scene selections. In fact, I equate writing to the “unraveling of ideas from my brain.” Sometimes there is a snag I need to work out that isn’t so fun, but while I am writing, I have a snarl or knot of story in my head, and I love the discovery of the story threads. (I make it sound like I really don’t know what is going on, but more, it is just the fact that as soon as I unravel one thread, another one surfaces!) Editing is fun only because I enjoy sitting down to read the book and see what God has done. And Marketing – I love to share the message of the story, and watch what God does with it, but by then, I really want to move onto the next story!
Me: What is one thing you hope to accomplish in 2007 that you haven’t done before?
Susan: Wow, I don’t know. I’d like to write a bible study, and a non-fiction book. But on a personal level, (and I know this is sad), I’d like to take a no-kids-along week-long vacation with my hubby. We travel a lot separately, but haven’t gone on vacation for more than one night alone in, well, probably since our honeymoon! I think 18 years is too long to wait between romantic get-aways!
Me: Amen to that, Susan! I think a romance writer, especially, should get more romantic get-aways! Thanks for giving us some insight into your writing and your life.
As for Reclaiming Nick, let me just say that I got the book yesterday afternoon and I’m almost done! I’ve only put it down out of necessity. And I’m already looking forward to the next Noble Legacy book. Taming Rafe should be out around August of 2007.
I was privileged to talk with Susan May Warren about this new book which begins the Noble Legacy Series.
Me: Being from Texas, a western-themed romance is right up my alley. Have you always liked cowboys and/or things western or is this a new arena for you?
Susan: Oh, no, I’m truly a cowgirl at heart. My earliest pictures are of me in cool red boots, a turquoise hat and a fringed skirt riding my pony, Sun Dancer (aka, the springy horse in the corner of the basement). I longed to live on a ranch when I grew up, and train horses. My only Christmas wish growing up was a pony. And my favorite shows were Bonanza and Big Valley, and I grew up singing songs from Oklahoma. So, writing a story set in the modern day west, one into which I could interject my sass and favorite things about cowboys was a perfect fit for me.
Me: Where did the idea for Reclaiming Nick and the Noble Legacy series begin?
Susan: Reclaiming Nick, as you might guess, was not the original title. However, when I began to write the story, I realized that these stories were so family driven, that the books had to belong to the main characters. Hence, why we decided to name them, in essence, Nick, Rafe & Stefanie. However the themes I use are taken from Philippians, and are about being the people God desires us to be, people called by his name. His NOBLE name. *g* Actually, the name Nick Noble was born before we decided on the series name, but now I see how God orchestrated it all to work together. As for the idea for Nick – the premise came from a story of grace that is revealed in the book – one that deeply touched me. I began to wonder what a gift of grace might look like, not from the recipient, but the giver…one who never thought he’d never be redeemed. Hence, the story of Nick Noble, the prodigal, who longs to “reclaim” the legacy he forsook.
Me: What is your favorite part of the writing process—research, writing, editing, or marketing—and why?
Susan: I probably enjoy writing the best. Research is fun because I learn so much and it generates ideas, but the writing process for me is like watching a movie, in short scene selections. In fact, I equate writing to the “unraveling of ideas from my brain.” Sometimes there is a snag I need to work out that isn’t so fun, but while I am writing, I have a snarl or knot of story in my head, and I love the discovery of the story threads. (I make it sound like I really don’t know what is going on, but more, it is just the fact that as soon as I unravel one thread, another one surfaces!) Editing is fun only because I enjoy sitting down to read the book and see what God has done. And Marketing – I love to share the message of the story, and watch what God does with it, but by then, I really want to move onto the next story!
Me: What is one thing you hope to accomplish in 2007 that you haven’t done before?
Susan: Wow, I don’t know. I’d like to write a bible study, and a non-fiction book. But on a personal level, (and I know this is sad), I’d like to take a no-kids-along week-long vacation with my hubby. We travel a lot separately, but haven’t gone on vacation for more than one night alone in, well, probably since our honeymoon! I think 18 years is too long to wait between romantic get-aways!
Me: Amen to that, Susan! I think a romance writer, especially, should get more romantic get-aways! Thanks for giving us some insight into your writing and your life.
As for Reclaiming Nick, let me just say that I got the book yesterday afternoon and I’m almost done! I’ve only put it down out of necessity. And I’m already looking forward to the next Noble Legacy book. Taming Rafe should be out around August of 2007.
12/30/2006
2006 In Review
As for us all, the end of the year affords a look back. In the span of twelve months, what challenges have I met and mastered? What has tripped me up? Where have I persevered? Where have I fallen short?
So many things come to mind as I consider 2006, but I’ll stick to writing for this venue. For the second year now, I set up a spreadsheet in January to track my writing productivity. I do it for two reasons: to keep myself accountable for actual writing time and to look back and realize (hopefully) that all the time snatched here and there added up to a measurable accomplishment. (I tweak the stats I keep each year to show this more accurately.)
And guess what? It continues to work. Not only did I revel in being able to log in numbers of words written, pages revised and critiqued, and books read, but as I entered the function equations to total my numbers for the year, I was shocked! Little does add up to a lot!
Given the circumstances of the year—my nephew’s heart surgery, selling and buying a house and moving—I felt some frustration at my lack of writing time. But feelings don’t necessarily reflect reality. In the midst of this crazy year, I wrote almost 7,000 more new words than last year! Add to that over 1500 pages rewritten or critiqued and 54 books read and I’d say I have nothing to be frustrated about!
Isn’t God good? Only He could have turned my offering of a few loaves of bread and a couple of fish into basket loads left over. I gave Him what I had, doing what He asked me to do, and He multiplied my effort above anything I could have imagined.
So tomorrow I’ll set up my spreadsheet for 2007, adding in new columns for research and pre-writing time spent—to keep myself accountable, but also so that at the end of next year I will again be able to see the grace of God in my life.
So many things come to mind as I consider 2006, but I’ll stick to writing for this venue. For the second year now, I set up a spreadsheet in January to track my writing productivity. I do it for two reasons: to keep myself accountable for actual writing time and to look back and realize (hopefully) that all the time snatched here and there added up to a measurable accomplishment. (I tweak the stats I keep each year to show this more accurately.)
And guess what? It continues to work. Not only did I revel in being able to log in numbers of words written, pages revised and critiqued, and books read, but as I entered the function equations to total my numbers for the year, I was shocked! Little does add up to a lot!
Given the circumstances of the year—my nephew’s heart surgery, selling and buying a house and moving—I felt some frustration at my lack of writing time. But feelings don’t necessarily reflect reality. In the midst of this crazy year, I wrote almost 7,000 more new words than last year! Add to that over 1500 pages rewritten or critiqued and 54 books read and I’d say I have nothing to be frustrated about!
Isn’t God good? Only He could have turned my offering of a few loaves of bread and a couple of fish into basket loads left over. I gave Him what I had, doing what He asked me to do, and He multiplied my effort above anything I could have imagined.
So tomorrow I’ll set up my spreadsheet for 2007, adding in new columns for research and pre-writing time spent—to keep myself accountable, but also so that at the end of next year I will again be able to see the grace of God in my life.
12/26/2006
Another Christmas is relegated to memory. This one will not be forgotten for several reasons: for the stressful situations leading up to it, for it being our first in this house and the first with family nearby. It was the year of Dad’s big birthday bash—Celebration Station with all the kids and grandkids. He even played Laser Tag for the first time (the adults skunked the older kids.)
Today we are all a bit sluggish—watching movies, playing video games, trying to figure out all the electronic gadgets we got for Christmas, scarfing down leftovers. Down time is good. We can reflect on the past year and plan for the coming one.
But our respite won’t last long. Thursday we begin a two-day varsity basketball tournament. Tuesday is the first district game. Middle school basketball kicks into gear the next weekend with a tournament, too.
But basketball means school begins again. And when the kids return to classes, I can get back into my routine of writing. More on that later.
For now, I hope you and your family had a Christmas you will always remember.
Today we are all a bit sluggish—watching movies, playing video games, trying to figure out all the electronic gadgets we got for Christmas, scarfing down leftovers. Down time is good. We can reflect on the past year and plan for the coming one.
But our respite won’t last long. Thursday we begin a two-day varsity basketball tournament. Tuesday is the first district game. Middle school basketball kicks into gear the next weekend with a tournament, too.
But basketball means school begins again. And when the kids return to classes, I can get back into my routine of writing. More on that later.
For now, I hope you and your family had a Christmas you will always remember.
12/22/2006
A Request
If you are reading this, please stop and say a prayer for me. I am under an extreme amount of stress at the moment dealing with a family situation that roller-coasters up and down. I’m stretched to my limit. I’m begging the Lord for answers.
More after Christmas.
I hope.
More after Christmas.
I hope.
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