A Fun Find

We spent a couple of days in east Texas with some of our good friends. One morning, Jeff and I ventured into a larger town and wandered through a few antique stores. We love antiques, though we buy very few. Our weakness, however, is books. (Of course!)

We found three books we were willing to shell out $2-$3 each to own. One was a copy of a book I read as a child. It’s kind of an obscure book. I’ve never heard anyone mention it, never found it hanging around in a current library collection. But when I saw it in a dusty back corner amidst a tumble of children’s books, I grabbed it up.

I don’t know if, on a re-reading, it will hold any literary merit at all, but I remember it being a book I truly enjoyed, one that continued to fuel my love of reading—and book-buying, for it was one that lived in my bookshelf for years! I wondered if the author would find a satisfaction in that. She didn’t write a bestseller, but her story meant something to someone. And isn’t that the point?

Actually, I still have titles on my shelves that few people have ever heard of, authors that are not even close to household names. I keep them for the same reason that I bought this one: because the reading of them is a good memory. And somehow I feel I owe it to the ones who penned those stories to make sure they don’t disappear forever.

The College Life

What is it about a college campus that draws me? For the past two days I’ve been on a local university campus while my sister attended yearbook workshops with her students. She needed an extra driver and thought the time away without responsibilities would afford me time to write. And it did. I got tons accomplished! But just walking across campus and into the student center sent waves of longing through me.

My reaction didn’t surprise me, though. It happens to my husband and I every time we return to our university for a football game or other event. I think it’s a combination of good memories, a beautiful place, the opportunity for intellectual stimulation, and a lifestyle that thrives on relationships. But our infatuation with the college life is more than the campus, more than the classes, more than the lifestyle. It’s all three in combination with each other, none able to be separated out.

Maybe that’s why the thought of sending my oldest to college this year hasn’t seemed as hard for me as for other mothers I know. I’m so excited for her—to get to experience and learn and make lifelong friends. She’s too much like both Jeff and I not to thrive in that environment.

I’d go back to college myself in a heartbeat. And in any capacity—student or staff. Maybe wife of a professor. Hm, that might be the best of all worlds!

Slow and Steady

In our fast-paced, run-faster world, we sometimes forget to remember that the story of the tortoise and the hare represents a true truth. I’m re-learning that this summer. Instead of having big chunks of time in which to write a book that must be finished in the next month, I’ve had all the normal errands as well as summer stuff as well as kids in and out of the house—sometimes on an hour-by-hour basis. But through it all, I’m writing a little here, editing a little there. Every time I think there is no way I can finish this project on time, I realize that slow and steady is at least keeping pace. I find I’ve done more than I imagined. I discover that perhaps my deadline set by faith can be met, both by the grace of God and my diligent efforts to run the race step by step instead of in frantic bursts.

I think the diligence and self-discipline are the real lessons here. And I know these truths apply to so much more than my writing. They apply to exercising, eating right, Bible study, relationships, money—everything! But I don’t act as if they do. Instead, I hurry, hurry, hurry, doing a slap-dab job at one thing, ready to move on before I should. I forget that the end result of slow-and-steady is the one I am really trying to achieve. I want to cross the finish line not just for the sake of “winning,” but also to hear “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

Pages of the Past

I went to look up just one little piece of information for my historical novel. I knew I needed it straight from the source my character would have had access to: the newspaper. Two hours and about twenty printed pages later, I emerged.

You see, I’m a sucker for old newspapers. They say so much! The language is, of course, important—what words are used and how. I love one ad I found: Estrayed—one fawn-colored jersey cow. Estrayed! What a great word! The articles are important for what is told and the conclusions that are reached on national and international events and questions, especially from the vantage point of looking back and having more information. The ads are wonderful sources of detail to add texture to a historical story and also good research into what kinds of things were available to the general public at a given time.

Page after page after page of fascinating stuff. And very little of it would have seemed so to the people who read it in “real time.” For me, these pages of the past help round out the picture of life for people that lived through the events we read of in our history books. And for me, the lives of ordinary people are the best part of history.

Feeling Left Out

Trust has been a huge topic between the Lord and I lately. Seems like every teaching I hear, every scripture I read and every conversation I have comes back around to trusting God. Really trusting, not just saying I trust Him.

I have come to that place of trust in some areas of my life. Not so much in others. Just this past week I’ve been sliding into a funk over not having an agent. It seems like everywhere I turn I hear other writers talking about their agents. Writers that are on about the same level I am. And I’ve started feeling left out. I’ve been wondering what I’ve done wrong. Have I not been as persistent as I should? As personable? Is my writing still not up to par?

Now I do know that I am happy none of the projects that I’ve pitched to and had rejected by agents have come to fruition, because I don’t think I would have been happy with those projects and possibly those agents in the long run. I keep telling myself that somewhere out there is someone who “gets” me, someone who, on a professional and a personal level, will champion my work. But right now it feels like finding that person will never happen.

And then it all comes back to trust. Do I trust the Lord to do with my writing what He will—even if that never includes publication? Do I trust the Lord to give me the exact right agent for the exact right project at the exact right time? Do I trust that the Lord can make what He wants happen, with or without an agent in the picture?

I’m grappling with all of that as I finish this manuscript, one that I feel good about, one that has already garnered some attention. And still I struggle. Do I trust God—ultimately and always? The answer is yes, but sometimes getting my head to believe my heart takes a little while.

The Tree and the Chaff

I love so many of the word pictures in the Bible. They often explain God’s heart so much more fully than mere words would do. Lately I’ve been considering the contrasting pictures in the first Psalm. Those that “delight in the law of the Lord” are described as a tree rooted by a stream. The “wicked” are compared to the chaff that the wind blows away.

Think about that. Can there be two more extreme images? A tree—a flourishing tree, nonetheless—that soaks up water from the nearby stream through its deep roots. It is living. Steady. Immovable. Lasting. It is also beautiful. And functional, providing shade as well as producing fruit in its season.

The chaff, on the other hand, is almost weightless, able to be blown away by the wind. It is the extra but unnecessary part of the crop. The dead and useless part. The waste.

I’ve considered both of these images in the past, but never in their direct contrast with each other, as they are presented in Psalm 1. It really makes you want to be the tree, doesn’t it?

World Magazine's Last Lines Contest

My name appeared in World Magazine this week. They’d asked for submissions of favorite “last lines” of books. I got so excited, because I do have some favorite last lines. But alas, there was a 50-word limit, and my favorite ending required contained a few words more to complete the sentences. So I submitted my second favorite ending, from Gone With the Wind. Four others also submitted this one. Our names appear beneath our entry.

But I still contend that if I’d been able to submit from my first choice, it would have been in the running to win. So since I have the forum to do it, I thought I’d share it here. Below are my favorite “last lines” of a novel. In fact, I’ve often wanted them framed so I could read them as I pass by. They are beautiful not only for their sentiment, but for their poetry.

From The Train to Estelline by Jane Roberts Wood:

I sat on the steps and watched Christobel, who loves Mr. Sully, Berl who has nobody, and Mr. Dawson, who had wanted a boy, watched them dancing, and I said to myself, “Lucy, you could sit here on these steps forever, waiting for things to be right.”

And I got up and walked out to where the dancing was.

I hope instead of spoiling the book, these lines intrigue you enough to read it!

Up

A good movie does what a good book does: it shows, it doesn’t tell. However, sometimes books and movies have lazy writers who tell instead of show. The people who create the Pixar movies very seldom fall into that category.

We saw Up last night. Wonderful movie. But from the “short” before the main feature through the end of the film, I was also fascinated by the mastery of the writers in showing, not telling.

Have you ever considered the Pixar short films? They are completely wordless, yet you don’t just know what is happening in them, you know who it is happening to. The sense of character is extraordinary, even with no words spoken.

I found this to be particularly true of the beginning sequence of Up as well. We see, we experience, Ellie and Carl’s years together in a way that impacts us emotionally. (Ok, I cried.) Having Carl say, “Ellie and I had a good, long marriage. I miss her,” wouldn’t have had the same effect. Likewise, throughout the movie, even the dialogue revealed character with a subtleness of getting to know a new friend.

I highly recommend this movie for writers. But I also highly recommend this movie for everyone else, too. It will make you laugh and cry and inspire you to go back to your life and live it.

The Making of a Great Day

I had a great day yesterday. A productive one. Laundry done. Nine pages edited and sent to my critique group. 4175 new words written. I worked out, had some time in God’s word, and even managed to watch a movie in bits and pieces as I folded clothes. But those things, which normally would have defined my great day, weren’t the reason for it.

The best part of yesterday was receiving a call from a friend that morning to pray for her and finding out that afternoon that the Lord had intervened in a miraculous way. Even if I hadn’t marked one thing off my to-do list yesterday, it still would have been a great day just because of that! I love it when the Lord so clearly shows Himself!

The Parties Are Over

I’m not a very good party giver. I prefer to play hostess to more impromptu and casual affairs. On those occasions, it doesn’t bother me that my house is less than stellar, nor do I care that the food is not five-star quality. I just enjoy the fellowship and don’t worry about the rest. But a planned event is a whole different thing in my mind. I get majorly stressed—over the house, the food, the people attending. I want it all to be right. And I want everyone to have fun.

I gave a graduation party two weeks ago and a bridal shower yesterday. As usual, I didn’t feel like either went the way I wanted them to. But as I considered it later, I wondered if my stress colors my perception of the outcome. Perhaps both parties were nice and fun. Perhaps people enjoyed being there. Perhaps everything really did go according to plan but the details that required my attention from beginning to end skewed my view of each party as a whole.

Thinking these things still doesn’t make me want to give a party again anytime soon. In fact, it makes me grateful there isn’t anything like that on my calendar in the near future!

Delighting in Dickens (Yet Again!)

The sheer size and density of each Dickens’ novel intimidates me. I think I’ve said that here before. And yet when I finally take a deep breath and crack open the cover, I revel in the world he creates, marveling at his genius as a writer. 

I just finished Little Dorrit. I picked it up after watching the new Masterpiece Classic version on PBS. And what a delightful read! As usual, Dickens ability to create character is almost unparalleled. This one, in particular, used some great devices to show character, whether through speech or mannerisms or thought processes. 

For instance, throughout the entire book Mr. Pancks is described in terms of a steamboat. It is amazing how Dickens makes the reader see Pancks by this extended metaphor. 

Flora,  a woman stuck in the past, runs her mouth continually in stream-of-consciousness dialogue (or rather monologue, since other characters can barely get a word in!) Dickens SHOWS this trait by writing her dialogue with almost no punctuation. Lines after line of it, subject constantly changing, with only the occasional (very occasional) comma and period. 

The Marshalsea Prison becomes a character and is even described as one would a person, both in looks and thoughts. It becomes a living, breathing part of that world, not just a “setting.” 

Of course, being Dickens, these characters are only a few in a cast of many. I could go on and on concerning the “dream sequences” of Afferty, the unique physical appearances of Flintwinch and Mrs. Clennam and Blandois and “the Bosom.”  Add in the irony of the Circumlocution Office and Society and this romping satire of politics and society make this Dickens novel another jewel for both the reader and the writer. But I think my favorites might be the cast of truly “good” characters. Amy Dorrit. Arthur Clennam. John Chivery and his father. These are characters you root for, and ones who do not disappoint in the end.

 

 

Home Again

Elizabeth got home last night from her senior class trip to Cancun. They had a great time. We asked her if they got on each other's nerves. (It's a small school. These kids are almost always together!) Her reply? "Nope. We got along great. It was like one big family vacation."

Wow! I love that! She said when they ventured out from the resort a couple of times, the guys were extremely protective of the girls, stationing themselves before and behind the group. I love these kids! I love the relationships she has had with these boys, how they have been good friends to the girls and treated them with respect. I hope she will find some more of these types of friends as she goes off to college! 

I'm glad she got to celebrate her graduation with her friends and with a few days of fun and sun. Now it's back to the real world: work and getting ready for her Ghana trip!

Busy As Bees

Have I mentioned how much I hate to work outside? Don’t get me wrong, I love a beautiful yard as much as the next person, I just hate the hot and the dirt and the bugs! But my in-laws love it. When they come to visit, they take on the projects I don’t have the time or inclination to do. Like cleaning out the flower beds and trimming the bushes and re-cementing the mailbox (we had it propped up with bricks!) and staining the deck. 

I wish I had some before and after pictures, but since I don’t, here are the after pictures. It’s all beautiful! And just in time for me to give a bridal shower next weekend. Thanks, Bernie and Jane!

A Routine Search

I’m at the beginning of an unusual summer for me. Generally, after a school year of routine, I’m ready for a few (and I do mean few!) weeks of unstructured time. However, this school year never felt like it fell into a predictable rhythm for me. Between my volunteer responsibilities and my kids, something urgent seemed to crop up almost daily. Thus, I find myself on the precipice of summer searching for that which, at this point in the year, I usually despise: routine. 

This summer, my goal is to find a daily routine that encompasses ALL of my priorities—time with the Lord, physical exercise, writing, and family—as well as a weekly routine that allows me to maintain my home, my relationships, and my sanity. Sound impossible? Probably. But if I can even gain a good foothold this summer, the transition to the school year shouldn’t be overwhelming with just 2 high school boys, both on the same schedules of sports and things. 

Of course this is all easier said than done. And I know that even finding a good routine doesn’t guarantee that it will happen every day. After all, life happens. But my routine will never happen if I don’t try!

Graduations

We’ve been planning all year for a graduation this week. But we didn’t expect two graduations. Earlier this week our Aunt Debby graduated from the Now into Eternity. As Elizabeth crosses the stage and receives her high school diploma, a prelude to the next step in her life, Aunt Debby will be laid to rest 2000 miles away. 

We will miss being there with the family. And they will miss being with us. We will miss Aunt Debby when we visit next—miss her laughter and her conversation. In fact, it won’t really seem real that she is gone until we miss her then. 

So we will rejoice and grieve at the same time tomorrow. But isn’t that in itself simply a picture of our life on this earth? We take the good with the bad, the happy with the sad. We smile and we cry. Our hearts swell with pride and break with hurt, all at the same time. Yet our God is in every moment. And life goes on.

 

 

Short, and Sweet

Sometimes it’s the simple things that touch your heart. In these stressful days when my head is full of things that must be done, I needed something to read. Something short. And sweet.

I remembered a conversation I’d had a few days earlier about a new musical based on the book Sarah, Plain and Tall. This person had never read the book or seen the movie, but she was so touched by the musical version of the story. I’ve always loved this book, so I pulled it out again. It’s a quick read. Lyrical and sweet. The perfect combination of heart-wrenching sorrow and joy.

Pick it up again—or for the first time. You’ll be glad you did.

As We Forgive

Those of you who’ve been around my blog very long know I don’t read a lot of non-fiction. And even when I do, it isn’t often I tout them here. But it would be impossible for me to let this opportunity go by. 

As We Forgive by Catherine Claire Larson is one of the most powerful books I’ve ever read. It is the story of the aftermath of the Rwandan genocide, the story of a reconciliation taking place in a society and culture. An almost unthinkable reconciliation. This is a book about forgiveness. The stories of several individuals are interwoven with chapters discussing how and why we should seek reconciliation and forgiveness. These are topics that, as human beings, we will all face in matters big or small, but hearing how God has worked in Rwandan society, in perhaps the biggest of all matters, gives us hope. 

Don’t read this book if you don’t want to let go of your own hurts or shortcomings. Don’t read this book if you don’t want to get free of unforgiveness. Don’t read this book if you don’t want your life changed. Because that’s what it will do. You will never be able to fall back into old patterns of nursing hurts and desiring revenge without a prick of conscience again. 

Racing Downhill

Ever feel like you are in a downhill race? That pretty much describes my life right now. And given my propensity to be a bit of a klutz, I’m worried I’m going to trip over my feet and go tumbling all the way to the bottom! 

All the end of year school stuff is upon me, as well as graduation events and parties and the wedding season gearing up, too. Hard to believe I have three friends who have children getting married this summer! Add in that I’ll probably need to live at the gym due to all the cake I’m consuming at these social events and I’ve about used up all the hours in my days! 

But knowing me, I’ll find time to read, probably to research, and maybe to write. And I’ll fit in blogging somewhere, too. So hang in there with me. It’s going to be a wild ride!

 

 

The Value of Chronicles

2Timothy 3:16-17 says: All Scripture is inspired by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for training in righteousness; so that the man of God may be adequate, equipped for every good work. 

Do you really believe this? ALL Scripture? I’ve been reading in Chronicles lately. It is tedious, to say the least. List after list of unpronounceable names, some in the form of genealogy, some in lists of positions held. So I found myself asking: is this part God-breathed, too? If so, what in the world can I learn from it, besides what not to name my children? 

As I meditated on this, as I asked the Lord to teach me something, anything, from these endless lists, a bit of understanding dawned on me. While earlier books of the Bible cover some of the same time periods and events of Chronicles, those books are mainly concerned with the big picture stories. But in Chronicles, God has a point to make: everyone matters. 

Name after name, with even some mothers and daughters thrown in, of people we don’t know much, if anything, about. And yet God knew them. He knew them by name. He knows what they did or didn’t do. He knows how they lived their lives. He knows the positions they held, from king and high priest to the overseers of troops and supplies to simply the heads of families. Each had a place. Each had a part to fulfill. I think Chronicles is an admonition to those of us who don’t have the “out front” roles in the body of Christ or in the hierarchy of His kingdom to remain faithful. To do what we are called to do. And to know that He sees.

The Best $5 I've Ever Spent

When my mother handed me the information for the Heritage Farmstead Museum, I knew it was a place I needed to go to further understand farm life at the turn of the century—the 20^th century. Finally I had a free day and took off. They only do docent-guided tours at 1:30, but I showed up at 12:30 to look around the grounds for a little while on my own. I took pictures and imagined my characters living and working in such a place. 

At 1:30, no docent had arrived. Finally, at 1:45, the director of the museum came to give me the tour herself. So there I was with this wonderful historian, just her and I, walking through this enormous museum-house and discussing what would be available to an average person and when they might own it, admiring the reproduction paint colors and wallpapers, and studying the original furnishings, clothing, toys, etc. As we talked, I discovered that she has done research on the home front during World War I. She invited me to come back and visit with her about that another day. My conversation with her as well as all I saw in the house was absolutely invaluable and would have been enough to make my $5 worthwhile. But when we stepped outside, this lovely lady handed me off to the Executive Director of the Museum, who took me around the rest of the buildings in the “farm yard.” 

Again, a fascinating historian who answered every question I threw at him. At the end, he gave me his card and an invitation to call or email as well as the name of the director of another such place that focused more on town buildings and would be another good source of information. Two hours of individual attention from two historians steeped in the time period I am working in. See what I mean? Definitely the best $5 I’ve ever spent!