Wednesday, June 27

Squee!

Okay, I am psyched. It's not my book, and I'm not getting any money out of this (I'm actually spending money), but I'm already in line for my copies.

I'm talking with my best friend, Rebekah Roberts, PUBLISHED AUTHOR. Her first book in the Once Upon a Tuesday series, Petals, comes out today in ebook format (available at amazon.com and barnesandnoble.com) and in print form on July 11th (and it should be in some local bookstores, but we don't have the info of where yet). (Here's a link to the publisher's blog with an excerpt from the book, a list of all the places online the book can be bought, and an easy contest for a $10 Amazon gift card [contest is today only].)

Rebekah and I have been best friends (identical twins separated at birth, really) since we graduated high school together. I love her for her honesty, humor, love, graciousness, and her persistence to hope. She has been one of my main encouragers and carries hope for me when I can't.

Rebekah has a love of fairytales and romance, and a heart for today's teens and children. Through her writing she has found her gift for sharing God's love with people she may never meet (expanding her already impressive reach!).

I asked my twin some questions about this new milestone to share with you.

 
D:  Why do you want to write books?

R: I have always been a story teller.  I can remember gathering kids at church around me and I would tell them stories. The crowd would always grow bigger as I spoke.  So I write to tell a good story, but also I look at it as a ministry.  I want to write stories that will make people think, make them grow and hopefully bring glory to God.


D: What are your most and least favorite parts of being a writer?

R: Least favorite part would have to be feeling guilty for not getting any writing done in a day or week. The best part is watching the story play out. Getting to see something that was just in your head come together and actually become something real and tangible.


D: How does it feel to achieve your dream of being a published author?

R: It feels amazing.  Like going on a journey for many years and finally getting to the "Welcome" sign. It must be how Frodo felt after getting to Mordor or how Ella (from Ella Enchanted) felt when she made it to the giant's wedding. But at the same time I know this is just the welcome. I still have a lot of stories that I want to write and a lot more dreams, even in the area of writing, that I want to achieve.


D: Why this book, this story? And why now?

R: Now, is the perfect time for a wholesome look at romance. Our genaration is overly sexualized and what true beauty really is has been lost... We need to fight to get it back... This book is about inner and outer beauty, it's about realizing that God uses everything, even how we look, in His plan for our lives. I think that you will relate to the characters and maybe grow with them.


D: Why you?

R: I have always loved Beauty and the Beast.  One of my earliest memories is watching the Disney version in the theater.  I was so scared of the Beast but I still loved the film.


D: How did you choose the title?

R: Um...It started out being called "Calla and Griffin: A modern day tale of Beauty and the Beast."  But long titles were not "in" at the time so I decided to change it to something catchy. I figured petals go with roses and no one can think of B&B without the rose. It was cool how the petals became a theme and you will find them throughout the book.


D: You wear roses every day, don't you?

R: Not every day... But most days, yes. It's not even always on purpose... I just love roses so much that they end up as a pattern in a dress or on my earrings. I didn't even notice the trend until someone pointed it out.


D: What are you working on now?

R: The second book in the Once Upon a Tuesday series. The working title is Sheltering Snow.  It is a modern version of Snow White.  It's about a teen runaway who is befriended by a quirky family of siblings.  It's about heartbreak and learning what real love and real family is.

You can keep up with the latest from Rebekah on her Facebook page or Twitter profile. There's also more at her official website, RebekahRoberts.net.


...I feel like a bridesmaid: excited for my dear friend and anticipating the bouquet toss! And I can't wait to read this novel again!


Cover image by 5 Prince Publishing
                                              "Beauty might just be the beast."

        Calla Williams is not like other girls.  Most girls spend their whole lives trying to be beautiful, Calla already is…and she hates it.
        When she is shipped off one summer to live with family friends in their dilapidated Mississippi plantation, Calla is faced with the prospect of living with strangers and their teenage son.  This is annoying because, like any other boy, he is sure to fall in love with her on sight. However, Griffin Davenport is not your typical teenage guy. With his hot temper and half of his face severely scarred, “hate at first sight” is closer to what she finds.
        Though the two teens try to stay out of each other’s way, an odd attraction to each other makes staying away anything but easy.
        Now, Calla must deal with growing feelings, her own prejudices, and finding the secret to Griffin’s past. As hate turns to friendship and friendship becomes something more, Calla learns a startling truth: God uses even how we look in His plan for our lives.

Saturday, June 16

I Will Have It

Not that long ago I would walk into my room and a wordless feeling of despair would settle over me. This happened so often and for so long that eventually I distanced myself from the despair just to get from one side to the other, usually settling on my bed, my nest, to go to sleep or to get online and ignore the soul-sucking piles of junk and paper that littered everything.

But in the last week and especially the last couple of days I walk into my room and a triumphantly joyous thought voices itself: I will have it.

I will have my room back. I will have a clean, safe, soothing, environment. I will have things nicely decorated. I will have my pretty daybed up in place of my current bed (nothing wrong with it, honestly, but it doesn't provide the function that I want, and also, it's not mine).

Remember how it was such a big deal to have my reading nook clean and always ready? The rocking chair, the lamp, the bookshelf where I can keep library books. All the wonderful coziness tied to that. And I met my deadline, and I had put the work in it, and it was mine, all mine. (I know I still owe you pictures, but it's not tidy right now.) Well, now I'm doing that (without a strict deadline) for the entirety of my room. For too long I've let my possessions own me; I'm a self-proclaimed border hoarder. (sigh)

I've been cleaning, mostly sorting and shuffling things and throwing out notebooks and other paper from college classes. I've been opening up floor space (let me tell you, hope and refreshment are found in an empty floor!), finding things I'd forgotten but want to keep, uncovering my instruments (with renewed vigor to learn and practice), sorting my crafting supplies. Before that I was going through my closet, jewelry, and makeup. I still have some ground to (un)cover, but I've made noticeable progress. And any time I stop to think for one second about what I'm trying to accomplish, and basically every time I enter my room, I am encouraged.

I expect I'll always fight the tendency to keep everything (yes, everything, including, to my embarrassment, price tags from clothes bought an undetermined amount of time ago). But I intend to fight it from now on. I've picked a battle worth the effort, and I'm going to win this war.

 
I'm shaping my life into what I want it to be. And it starts here, with my room.


Friday, June 1

I don't choose my purpose. I'm given freedom.

Yesterday I held a newborn baby. A tiny person. She is beautiful and precious. Impossibly real. A new heart not yet ready to explore far, but filled with so much potential already that it makes one want to sing. I didn't see her for long, and I held her for less than that (she was hungry, after all, and I haven't got food in me). I'm terribly excited for her and her parents, and I have confidence that they will be just fine. I left as unobtrusively as I could manage to let this beautiful, little, and growing family have peace and time. And on the way home, I cried.

You see, despite my fears of babies (mostly because they're so small, I'm not and tend toward clumsiness, and I don't want to break them or hurt them in any way), there are times I desperately want a child (or more than one) of my own.

I want a small, young, new person to hold and comfort, cuddle and feed, encourage and teach. Someone to whom, down the road, I can say, "Sure, try that slightly dangerous or new and uncertain thing. It'll probably turn out all right." Someone who I can try to help have more courage than I do. And a whole long list of reasons and things I look forward to, should they be granted to me.

And preceding that, I would love to be married. Seriously. There's another list longer than my arm of things I want and hope for wrapped in that.

And these are good things to want, certainly. I'm not likely to stop any second. But I'm also not likely to get married "any day now". And because of that (and a thousand other things, including I've never been career-oriented) I've been down in my heart about my usefulness and my purpose. If I want to raise a person, how is fiction going to help? If I want to marry and partner myself with a man, what use is the obscurity of holing up and pouring my energy into false realms into which no one can truly travel? And if marriage and children are not for me, what is the point of wanting them so deeply? And what is the benefit of my desired and chosen profession anyway?

Those questions are hard to write now, because, for the moment, it's so easy to see how silly they are. But for a couple or so weeks I wrestled with the challenges they brought to mind. The "glut" of fiction and stories haunted me. The longing to do something great and to be a crucial piece in a grand plan that worked for the good of thousands of people made my heart despair that "I could never".

Because, after all, what can one lonely little writer do? Certainly nothing on such a grand and important scale.

But even as I doubted, I knew my doubts were...well, not exactly wrong, but ill-founded. I know that God can do nationally, even globally-scaled works through small people. So, of course my writing could turn out to be something desperately needed. It could turn out that way and I'd never know, or it could turn out that way and I'd be giving my autograph until I wished I'd never become a writer for different reasons.

But that's not even the heart issue. I know God can do huge things with one person if He chooses. I also know He can do "small" yet still highly important things with one person. The fact is, there's not a single person on this earth who doesn't have and fulfill a purpose.

I was struggling with wanting to choose my own purpose, when in reality, it's not my choice. I can choose the purpose of the fictional people I create, but I cannot choose my own. It's not my right. I didn't design myself, nor the people I'm around, nor the world I interact within. No, none of it. Everything I do in a fiction story I did none of for my own life.

It's not mine to question. Oh, sure, I can ask as long as I ask respectfully (how odd would it be if one of my characters were to demand of me that I change him from being a tailor to a taxi driver?), but once asked it's not mine to demand an answer. It is mine to simply accept that God is working and using me in His story as He sees fit. I don't have to know how all the intricacies work. Sure I'd like to. But I'm not my own author. Whoops. I merely play my part, which has importance though I may never know exactly what. I should stay open to the possibility of changes--or growth--of my role at the moment. But that doesn't make who I am, what I love, and what I do now flabbergastingly useless.

I didn't create it, but I have purpose, and really, I can't escape fulfilling a purpose. For God's glory and the good of those who love Him. Which, to put a finger on it, is what I really want.

That doesn't mean I can't choose to do other things, but I'm still unique me no matter what I do and will remain designed for what this unique me is needed. God gave me not only a love of others' stories but also of creating and sharing my own, and though I may sometimes try, I can't run from that. It will always be a part of me. I can grow as a person (please, no taller), expand my skills and knowledge, meet new people, try new things, and generally live life. Actually, I hope to do this. And that will only work to further my God-given purpose. Whether He chooses to reveal it to me at the time, later, or not at all is His call. But I can trust Him to use me for grand things.

It's a mystery. And yet it makes sense.

For now, I think I'll keep writing in re-remembered freedom.