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.
6/28/2007
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.
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