What I'm Into January 2014

Linking up with Leigh Kramer's What I'm Into series again. I love this series because it encourages me to remember the highlights of my life the past month, try new things thus making new highlights to write about, and I get to read what many others have found and done, expanding my community, even if only a little bit.

The start of the new year was a somber and contemplative one for me, and January has been a challenge. This month I've been in South Carolina for six months, but everything is still fairly new and most things are yet undiscovered. Friends and family are far away, and I didn't feel much like celebrating on New Year's Eve. New Year's Day greeted me as the something inbetween.

My parents drove into town for a pleasant visit (and we missed getting a picture? hm). It was strange how the move has changed things, and how my family is the same yet also different after so many months of life. I wonder how they thought I had changed? I also talked on the phone with my brother in Oklahoma for his birthday, the first I've been really and truly away for. I wished I could have been there to put up the birthday banner for him.

I'm still taking steps to be who I am and be seen for that. This month I got a pixie haircut and took steps to declutter and simply my closet to make that part of life less stressful. It's easier to like what I see in the mirror now. But I'm still filled with doubt about my choices in general and I struggle to trust my instincts. I want to adopt everyone else's passions as my own and enjoy the same intensity, but as that doesn't work for long (if at all) I'm still determining my passion(s) and my cause, and how I will go about pursuing them.

And that leads me to the most important book I read this month. I finished The Complete Idiot's Guide to the Power of the Enneagram, finally learning, after weeks of uncertainty and doubt, that I am a 9. It's a combination of relief and agony to have that label clear things up. When I read the chapter describing 9s, it was like the author had seen into my soul--I felt all the things described in those pages, and I would have cried if I hadn't been reading in a public place--and then dissected it. Ouch. Of course "there isn't a strong individual self in the 9, and that's the challenge--learning to develop one" - page 163. Of course that's me. (insert self-depreciating scream of rage here. oh, wait, I might have something...)

"9s struggle to have a strong and consistent sense of self." - p 159 Sigh. It's true. Yay, me.
Now that I know, I'm trying to learn, trying to grow, trying to be more assertive and be me, not someone else. But man, that is the challenge.
(...I was going to write a separate post about discovering my Enneagram type, but I think that covers it pretty well.)

Over the New Year's break I read the greatly enjoyable The Runaway King, the second book in the Ascendance Trilogy. I wrote about the first one here. Like the first one, I read the second book in just a few days. I wrote a brief review on Goodreads. The third book in the trilogy, The Shadow Throne, comes out next month! Can't wait.

I have discovered the hilarity, awkwardness, and joy that is the show FRIENDS. How did I miss this? As it's not on Netflix, I'm glad my library has it, because I'm getting in the queue. (...I've been watching a lot of British shows over the last several months. Yes, Sherlock is a big culprit. As is Doctor Who.) I think I enjoy it much more now than I would have when it was on because of how I have changed and because I'm now the same age as the characters.

Also, thanks to the library, this month I learned how to suspend my holds until certain dates, so I'm timing the movies I get so that I can actually watch them before they're due back. I should have a Bollywood romance coming available just in time for Valentime's Day! I consider this the perfect way to celebrate another year of singleness. With some tea or wine, of course.

I watched Bride and Prejudice, and it was amazing. I posted this on Facebook when it was over:

It made me wonder about the impact and reach our creativity can have, now and into the distant future. It makes me hopeful.

I tried some anime shows on Hulu, RideBack and Kino's Journey. Both interesting, for different reasons. Neither quite along the lines of what I usually watch (or read). I finished RideBack. Kino's Journey might be a bit more intense than I prefer, so I haven't watched more than a few episodes so far, but I like the concept. I also watched the first episode of Game of Thrones. Not sure what I think of it, but I was curious and wanted to see for myself what many others have been talking about.

I joined a local writing group. They meet every weekend, but I'll probably only try to join in once a month. I didn't read anything I brought, but we had a fun writing exercise where we had to include five different items in a scene and try to answer the question, Who owns these things? My heard pounded so hard when I read, I had to slow down to breathe, but when I finished, the room was silent. Then the leader said, "Wow. Welcome to the group!" I can tell you, as a self-doubting writer that was what I needed to hear.

My friend Jaimie Krycho released the first in her trilogy Bloodlines of Epheria on the Kindle, and I happily bought my copy. She originally published the story on her website, and I always looked forward to each installment. She had me loving the characters, wanting the powers, and worried about what would happen. Now I'm gonna reread Lorin's--I mean Sifani's--adventure (though I understand it is a little changed from the original?) and eagerly await the next book in the trilogy.

I had the pleasure of joining The Red Couch's book discussion on Jesus Feminist. (Mostly I read, and still am reading, the comments of others.) That book gave me much to ponder and The Red Couch and She Loves magazine inspire me to see a wider world than I can currently walk abroad.

I also signed up for the We Heart Books virtual book exchange. I've been paired up, and it's time to shop!

The other day I happened upon the song "I Lived" by OneRepublic. I love the brief interview on the song here. Adding this one to the list of inpires-me-to-move-become-and-live songs. It's pretty much been on repeat the last, what, three days.


As I was working on this post, my sister-in-law came in and asked if I wanted a chocolate cheesecake beater to lick. This month started rough, but it's ending fabulously.


So, what have you been into?

What I'm Into November 2013, or Things I'm Thankful For

I've been watching Leigh Kramer's What I'm Into posts, enjoying them, and wanting to participate. Now I'm finally going to do it!

An old friend acquaintance sent a message earlier today that got me thinking about the things I've done lately, and I realized quite a few things of note happened last month.

All month:

So, first off, in October I wrote a post about National Novel Writing Month and my intention to participate again. The goal of 50,000 words daunted me working full time and living in a new home, but the pattern of it quickly became a comfort. The set up of my word processor, music, and earbuds became a ritual; I was entering sacred space and I loved it. There were a few times I fell behind and wondered if I could catch up, but I allowed myself grace at the same time that I required words. It was a funny balance, but I learned about my own writing mechanics. I also pantsed the entire story to date, allowing more freedom for the silly and nonsensical, time travel you know and all that. I still write serious and need to work on my humor (funny is hard!), but the characters and events are better for my lack of a strict outline. On November 29th, I reached that longed for word count milestone. On November 30th I wrote some more because the story wasn't done and I had the itch to keep writing. And so I did, and so I shall.

In addition to writing, I indulged in as much Doctor Who as I could, catching up on all the series before the 50th anniversary episode, when my household had a party with Jammie Dodgers, Jelly Babies, popcorn, and more. I love that show, and the 50th anniversary episode did not disappoint.

After The Day of the Doctor, Peter Capaldi's eyebrows showed up in a game my brother and sister-in-law played on each other. I was the unintended victim a couple of times, and it was great. Eventually it escalated, and the 12th Doctor's eyes were vandaleyes'd. No pic of that, though, sorry.

Last month, I was also told that I am an empath. I hadn't realized such a thing was a real-life possibility and not just the stuff of superheroes and fiction, but it explains so much of my past and present, how I experience life and other people. I'm keeping my eyes open for more resources and information on this subject.

Firsts:

It's hard to believe it was such a short time ago now, but in November, on a beautiful, fresh Sunday afternoon, a friend took me to see the ocean, which I had never seen with my own eyes before. I knew I'd be going back and I already have once.

The last morning of November was spent on a yacht, traversing the harbor with the family. It was great to get out and do something with everyone, and the admission price was a present for Toys for Tots, which my niece was very excited about giving. Near the end of the trip, the boat went under the bridge pictured below. It's huge and amazing (it's actually one of my favorite places in the area--the view!). I lingered outside, taking in the vastness of the bridge, sky, water, and breeze. Also, no pictures, but I caught my first glimpse of a dolphin jumping out of the water!

Travel:

Midmonth, I went to Columbia and drank coffee. To clarify, I did not leave the country, or even the state. I headed to South Carolina's capitol city and watched a dear friend, a wonderful and inspiring woman, graduate from basic training. After the ceremony, I had the blessed time of enjoying an Olive Garden lunch and caramel macchiato with her and her family, some of my favorite people. It was so, so good to see them, and so hard to leave.

Reading:

I started reading Jesus Feminist (which I knew about primarily through my sister-in-law and Leigh Kramer, so thanks, ladies!), and it is amazing. I'd say my viewpoint on "women's roles" has changed even in the last couple of weeks, and for the better, in part due to this book's examination of how we live and what should be normal. I'm not through the book yet, but I don't expect it to take much longer.

It's also been a month since John Flanagan's book The Royal Ranger came out and I haven't read it yet! I pre-ordered, then decided to wait until December so I wouldn't be rushing through it (I anticipated bleed-over rush pace from writing so fast in November). Then I decided I should read one book at a time (I forget why, something about focus), and I started Jesus Feminist first. But this one is next (sorry, Jane Eyre) since I've been anticipating it for months.

Listening:

Like many, I have been introduced to Pentatonix's performance of The Little Drummer Boy, one of my favorite Christmas songs, and loved it. I'd heard their cover of Radioactive with Lindsey Stirling and liked it, but didn't know what I was listening to. Now I do and Pentatonix has a new fan. I love a sound that is full even without instruments.



Whew! It's been an odd, interesting, and typical month, jam packed with the ordinary and realizations, routine and special events. It's been even fuller than I'd realized. And I didn't even mention Thanksgiving, with my niece and brother racing on the Wii, or the fact that my list of "what I'm thankful for" was simple and I was too embarrassed to give one that was heartfelt. I do have a lot to be thankful for, and I'm learning how to express that, in the special and the ordinary both. This blog list is a good start.


So. What are you into?

Yes, but can I do it again?

Last year I hid in my closet for a month, occasional treats and hot coffee nearby, earphones on with my playlist waking up the right emotions, and keyboard offering the rewarding soft tapping noises. Fifty-three thousand words in thirty days.

That was a challenging, rewarding experience.

I learned that I could budget my time (some) and get out a rough draft of a complete novel in a hurry. I counted myself among the thousands of winners. I took a silly picture to show you my happiness. And then I got busy with other parts of life.

I won NaNoWriMo last year.

Yes, but can I do it again?

I'm nervous. I want to write a story next month. I need to write a story. But can I do it?

I can't even write this post. I'm getting distracted by other things and thinking I should spend my time elsewhere.

I know I need to do this. I need to know I can make myself, perhaps let myself, value the act of creating a work of words in a full time schedule, in a new town, new everything environment.

And I need to choose a project. The stories are bouncing around in my head with new fervor. It's an exciting orbit that if I let it will do nothing but continue to circle and I'll never tell another story. I have to pick one, temporarily valuing it more than the others to focus on it and make it right before I can tell the next one. Choosing is hard. I want to see where all of them will go. But I am a linear being, so if it is to happen, it must be one story at a time. Which one will be next month? Which one will I start in six days?

I don't know if this post is coherent or not. This evening I am an excited, jumbled, nervous mess. But I came across this quote on Twitter, and for now I'll leave it at pondering this quote from Maya Angelou:

A bird doesn't sing because it has an answer, it sings because it has a song.

The Tipping Point

It's been a long time coming, and once that tipping point arrives, there is no slowing down the follow through. It will come and it will be swift.

I'd been thinking about it for months, did I want to, did I have what it took, could I choose almost blindly, praying for faith at the same time that I exercised it?

The tipping point came when the theoretical turned tangible.


"Norman took the job in Charleston."

I blinked. It was only yesterday that there had been the faintest other possibility, not one that would be great. This, however, was exactly what we'd all been waiting for. Whether or not it was the where we'd been waiting for, well that would remain to be seen.

"He...he got the job?"

Mama nodded. "He just called."

This called for celebration! Finally, a solid tenure track position. They wouldn't have to be moving every year, my brother was getting the beginning of his dream, and more and more I'm hearing how lovely a place South Carolina is.

At the same time that I wanted to jump for joy, my world took a strange nose dive. The kind that a fighter plane takes and builds up speed. It can either swing up out of it with more momentum than ever, or it can stall out, continue to fall, and crash.

The theoretical had just become tangible.

I talked with Mama for a few more minutes about it, plying for answers, though nobody had any real details yet, just the big idea that my brother and his family once again had a new destination for the upcoming school year. Then, bubbling with excitement at all the possibilities, I climbed the stairs and faithfully logged on to Facebook. I sent one private message to two recipients. One word. "YAAAYYYY!"

Then I stepped away, though not far, and wondered how everyone's lives were about to topsy around.

A chime.

I looked. I had a new message.

From my sister-in-law.

"Did you want to come with us?"

I could feel it then, the tipping point, the door of no return, waited in front of me. My plane started diving. I was running out of time to decide.

But I had already decided a few months ago. I just had to work through my process and accept that I wouldn't know all the answers and that it would be okay anyway.

I got my final council from my closest advisor, tearfully admitted that it was what I wanted and it was even hard to say so, and finally accepted.

And then there was no stopping me.

 

It's like packing for a week long trip...without going anywhere.

Three days of dressing up (in my mind that equals anything of nicer quality than denim and simple but nice, no-logo t-shirts) with two evenings of really dressing up for use-the-correct-fork chicken dinner banquets. Oh, and a complimentary jacket with each outfit, because I know I'm gonna be cold. Ugh.

Generally speaking, I prefer low maintenance wear with a silly flair. And comfort. Always comfort.

So this conversation happened ... inside my own head:

"Is it okay to be quirky and not just...fancy? To impress people?"

"Are you quirky?"

"Yes."

"Do you enjoy being your quirky?"

"Yes."

"Heck yes, it's okay. In fact, you should."

"Whew. Okay."

I can't believe conference time is here.

 

Drumroll....

Thirty days into the challenge and two days after officially winning NaNoWriMo...

And with an official NaNoWriMo word count of 53,207...

I HAVE FINISHED MY STORY!!!

Delight of Now

My jaw would drop if I wasn't resting my face on my hand.

I just met someone, well we didn't meet exactly, but we talked briefly on the phone. And then I learned something about her.

She's a year younger than me and just had a baby? I think. I feel cheated. But as soon as the thought forms I remember, oh yeah, that's...that's about normal.

Remember, I have called you to something else.

Yeah. I remember. I'm not cheated. And she's not better than me, either. Nor am I better than her. I'm just on a different kind of path. I don't know where it will take me, but I know I have a leader who has already set the path and decided it's good. That should be enough.

And it is. Actually the last couple of months have been better than I could have expected and exactly the sort of thing I hope for my life. When one exciting thing calmed down and the event passed, days seemed normal. Time traveled slowly...and in the proper order. That's okay. Good, actually. And then another exciting event came, and went. And days passed one at a time. No specific exciting event on any given day.

Except every day is rather exciting. Each day is new, and I have renewed hope for future days...without spoiling the delight of now.

Now I get to wake up every morning, see the growth of my little jar of Forget-Me-Nots, relax or start early, form a semblance of a dinner plan, head off to one of my dream jobs where I work with great people and will always be surrounded by inspiration as long as I don't close my eyes to it (the feeling is a bit like every time I would get to walk to my beautiful Gaylord, home of the best possible major for me, great teachers, and friendly classmates), read, dream, write, and store up...something. I'm not sure what, nor for what, but I'm glad to drink in where I am now, knowing where I've come from.

No, I'm not married, and no, I don't have a newborn. But I do have a lot. Her adorable baby isn't mine, but this,
::deep breath:: 
this is mine.

Do You Nano?

Okay, deep breath, I'm plunging in. Without enough time to talk myself out of it, I have decided I'm going to participate in NaNoWriMo 2012. It's time for some writerly abandon, forget the rules, which I tend to be a stickler for (well, if someone tells me to do something in this way, I'll do my best to match it. I might experiment if specifically given permission to do so. Otherwise....), and let my whimsies and fantasies take flight on paper. Or computer. ... Eh?

Yes, I know that was weird.

Oh well, forget the "rules", right? NaNoWriMo isn't supposed to be the prettiest thing I ever write. It's just supposed to get done.

I've written two novels before. Both in first draft form, one took about a year, the second made it somewhere in probably five months (...hey, I just realized, that's progress!). Now for the one month challenge. This is going to be awesome. And just like major exercise after not using those muscles much for a long time, I'm going to be oh so sore.

But I kinda like being sore. As long as I'm sure I'll recover. You know why? Because it means I'm getting stronger, and yes, I can meet the challenge.

Now is warmup time. Mentally and emotionally mostly, probably. Gotta get ready and head off the stereotypical writer's block and depression before they have a chance to hit.

Because I can do this.

I plan to be a winner.

Worth a Share

Here are some things I have found on the interwebs that tickled my funny bone, made me smile, or brought me to tears. Or any other number of worthwhile responses.

Blogs:

My good friend Jaimie Dawn Krycho describes her apartment complex in a manner that simultaneously makes me want to live there and makes me want to not. I imagine boring days are rare.

A beautiful insight from my sister-in-law. I'm glad to have her back here for now, but I know she loves her Arcata.

Another one from my friend and former classmate, Jaimie Dawn, who is apparently nearly ready to find an agent for her novel!

The Year of Less blog hit on a little gem I needed regarding gifts and stuff, and not being overrun by them. Encouraging without chastising. Beauty.

Art:

I think I'm adopting a mission to always be on the lookout for art. A couple months ago I found the painting La Mer by Vladimir Volegov, and I just love it. And basically all that I've found by Volegov.

Speaking of art, lightning-hand time lapse videos are fun, whether it's for something large and photographic or something smaller and cartoonish. Somehow I don't think it would be quite as cool to watch a time lapse of a writer. Though the facial expressions at high speed might entertain.

Stories:

This one takes a while to get through, but I think Legend of Zelda: The Return is the best fanfiction I've ever read, especially if you're a fan of the games.


What have you found that's worth a share? Let me know in a comment.

The War of Art - A Compass

Ah hah.

Like a magnetized needle floating on a surface of oil, Resistance will unfailingly point to true North--meaning that calling or action it most wants to stop us from doing.

We can use this. We can use it as a compass. We can navigate by Resistance, letting it guide us to that calling or action that we must follow before all others.

Rule of thumb: The more important a call or action is to our soul's evolution, the more Resistance we will feel toward pursuing it.

            The War of Art by Steven Pressfield, page 12

This is a handy book when I need a boost or reminder in those times when the writing I want to do or another goal I dream of seems nigh on slipping through my fingers (or more accurately, like I'll never sit down to work on it). Filled with brief, sweet, and poignant explanations and wisdom regarding the artist's life. So far I'm in Book 1, all about Resistance, my enemy and apparently my guide.

Sensei did tell me to "Persevere." Here it seems is another tool toward that.

Persevere.

Mr. Rogers Was My Neighbor

Growing up, I always liked this show. The world of Make-Believe was my favorite, but I got to where I could appreciate the other parts just about as much.

Now, it's all rolled up into this...awesomeness. New theme song for writing and life!

Squee!, second part

Let the excitement continue!

Read the prologue at Rebekah's website here.

Two weeks ago, I told you about the e-release of Petals by my twin-separated-at-birth (but not really) and best friend (really), Rebekah Roberts. I shared a quick interview and a little bit about the book and I got my copy. You can read that bubbly post here. (And remember, I'm not getting paid for this, not even bribery money.)

Well, today, when I postponed breakfast and hopped online, I scooted over to Amazon.com and found the paperback is already ready to order! It will also be available at BarnesandNoble.com; it's jut not up quite yet.


Last time, I had asked my twin some more questions about her writing, and now I would like to share them with you.

 

D: What has the journey been like to getting published?

R: Amazingly fast. I know that I am so blessed to have found a publisher so quickly. I hope that that means my book is something special.


D: Where do you write?

R: I love to go to Barnes and Noble. Most of Petals was produced there. The smell of coffee and new books gets me in the writing mood.

D: Do you have a writing routine?

R: Not really. I just try to fit it in where I can. I work long hours and there isn't always time. I think lamenting over not getting in our writing time is a constant struggle with most writers.

D: So what do you like to do in your free time?

R: Lately I have been napping. ;) But when I am not sleepy, there is nothing I like more than to hang out with my family or a good friend. I love reading and TV and movies, but I think, given the choice I would rather hang out and have a good talk with someone than just about anything.

D: Probably because you're an encourager. How do you hope to encourage readers with Petals?

R: The themes that are in Petals and now in the following books have a lot to do with true beauty and true love. I love romances, but I want to write a story that is more than just "boy meets girl." I want to write a story that has broken characters that may not be perfect by the last page but they are on their way to becoming better people and then maybe somehow that might affect a reader in his or her own life.

D: What is your fear with your book?

R: Wow... Good question. I guess, that no one will buy it... But I think more than that I am afraid of sending the wrong messages. I set out to send a message about beauty and love, but I have learned so much since I wrote it that I hope it still rings with truth. A single book is just a small stopping place in a writer's life. I have grown so much as a person and as a writer since I started the project, so I just hope my younger self knew what she was talking about.

D: Everybody has dreams. What are yours?

R: My dream as an author (wow that looks weird to type, author..), is to keep writing and keep getting published. I don't know that I will ever just write. I am currently a full-time nanny and I love it. I think I will always write and do something else, at least on the side. As for personal dreams... I'm like any hardcore dreamer, I want my own fairytale, my own happily ever after and I pray that I find it someday.

D: In addition to writing and nanny-ing (yeah, I don't think that's a word yet) you also have a ministry outreach in the works. Tell me about it.

R: Unfolding Rose Ministries is a new adventure that I am embarking on this fall. It is a ministry that I'm starting. I want to use my own fiction, other fiction, and interviews I'm conducting with men and women as a way to talk to young women about love, purity, modesty, guys, true beauty, and most of all who they are in Christ.   

D: What keeps you going every day?

R: My faith in Christ. I suffer from anxiety. It's something that I am not ashamed to talk about and anyone who knows me, knows I deal with worry and doubt on a daily basis. I guess you could call me a sensitive artist or just a plain old worry wart, but God takes that and uses it. Jesus is the one who gets me out of my head and gives me the strength to be there for others. It's because of my fears that I am able to write better characters and I am able to be sensitive to other peoples' struggles. So I thank God for my weakness and I thank Him for His strength in my life.    

D: What's the one thing you want people to know about you?

R: I guess what it says in the info section of my personal Facebook page: "I am the creation of The Creator, the loved of The Lover, the daughter of The Father and the saved of the Savior. I am His."  And that this book is for Him as well.

 

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. And for fun, you can listen to the playlist that Rebekah put together of songs and videos that inspired Petals.

I've started reading my e-copy, and I'm excited to get my signed book soon! And I can't wait to find it in bookstores and geek out in a public place! Oh yes, I will be looking.

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.

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.

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.

Speak Up

I've had something on and off my mind for a while, and it's recently come up again. I've thought about blogging about it for months, but never got up the nerve to talk about it. My thoughts had been fairly organized, but now it's been a while so I have to do some re-thinking. But it's time. I may not be liked for my stance, I may get zero feedback, but it's important enough that it's time I step forward and say my peace.

I'll be back as soon as I can get my thoughts organized enough to share.

Oh to wax with eloquence

I tend to write more simply, more directly, more to the point. I think I write like a man, but with a me style to it. (Which might in part mean that I make certain jumps in logic, thinking those dots don't need to be connected. ...Did that make sense? Hm.) Well, my voice is and will always be attached to me, after all. But, oh to wax eloquent, and not simply think I am where I fail. So, I'm turning to poetry to learn a little more and see if I can improve my language skill.

It helps that my student in the Write Start class is highly interested in poetry. It seems to be her favorite style of creative writing we've explored. And it's something I've been interested in for a long time, too. When I'm bothered, really really really really bothered by something, or possibly very excited and happy about something, I write poetry about it.

But poetry...doesn't come easy to me. I like the flowery poetry for its use of words, but most of the time it's little more than that, flowery, pretty words. I have a hard time making sense out of it, even if the person sitting next to me follows along line for line, no big deal. If it's simpler, it makes sense easier, but I don't always like it as well for its simplicity. Alas.

I love imagery, but I need something to connect it all together. What? It flows perfectly. What am I talking about?

I guess I'm talking about my brain, but I didn't want to get gooey on you.

If I can feel or hear the rhythym (rats, I just can't spell that word) or hear a rhyme (yes! got that one!) I have an easier time connecting the current line with the previous line and remembering content from one verse to the next. Over all, I get a better picture of the intent. So that's how I usually think of and try to write poetry, even though there isn't only one set of acceptable rules and patterns can be picked and chosen as the author desires.

Enter this wonderful book that Rebekah found: Write Your Own: Poetry by Laura Purdie Salas. A children's book introducing some basics of poetry writing. Local library gold! I'm about halfway through reading it and I got it today. But I'm far from halfway through trying out the things it explains.

Here's to never ceasing learning and one more way to improve my overall writing!
Cheers


Chime in! What's your favorite style of poetry? Does it make sense or come easily to you, or are you like me and left behind without a hope to cling to?

"You don't know anything."

Have you ever been told that, because of your field of study, you don't know anything? Or maybe you don't have a specific area of expertise so people think you know nothing. The line may have been delivered nonchalantly, or the speaker may have seemed intent to knock you down a notch. Either way, the message was delivered.

I've been told that, too. I usually think about disagreeing but decide to go along with the speaker in order to avoid an argument. Love conflict in fiction; hate it in real life.

But the statement remains inaccurate.

Using my own field of study, English and writing, I can tell you what I do know and how much is open to me to learn about.

As a writer, I have to know how to use the language I write in. I use knowledge about English grammar and punctuation (and slang, phrasing, word choices, et cetera) to construct my sentences when I'm writing. Often when I'm editing, that knowledge helps me see problems and areas of confusion and choose how to correct the issue. I have to know when and how to end a sentence and paragraph and how to begin new ones...and how to string them together (something I sometimes have fun ignoring on my blog). I need to know the rules of English in order to avoid confusion and communicate clearly, either by following the rules or by bending them.

Now, fiction writing. Not a very useful field, right? I don't know a thing about science or economics or architecture or bowling alleys or underwater basket weaving. Right? And I certainly, stuck in my fictitious realms, don't know anything regarding how the real world works. Not a single thing. Right? Of course right.

Um.. No, that is inaccurate.

As a world creator, I have to know at least a little bit about a lot of real things. Including science, economics, architecture, and possibly even bowling alleys and underwater basket weaving. Also, how people relate, different personalities, skills and trades, weapons and fighting, religion, politics, terrain, travel, music, culture, and more. Essentially, the world is my field of study.

One of the reasons why I love being a fiction writer is because I get to know about tons of things without focusing too much or too long on one thing. Call it A.D.D., call it the inability to settle down, call it geekiness, call it being a homeschooler (not the same thing as a geek), call it curiosity, call it a lack of depth. Whatever you want to call it, I love it. I don't need to be a scientist or an architect or a professional kegler or a scuba weaver.

Other people can be those things. That's fine. I say more power to them. It's just not for me. That doesn't mean that I know nothing, and that's not to say they only know about their specialty to the exclusion of the rest of the world.

"You don't know anything" is a sadly arrogant statement. It shrinks God's vast creation and diminishes the one spoken to simply because the speaker focuses on a different area of expertise.

We Love Authors, Do We Not?

Ever been discouraged? Ever think "This is it. This is all there is for me. My life might as well be near its end."?

Me too.

Recently I was talking to my students about the two doors of story (for more on the two doors, read James Scott Bell's Plot and Structure). The first door is The Change that thrusts the character into the story. It's where the story actually begins. Before The Change we simply have introduction...of the main character, of important side characters or villains or love interests—whoever is logically located and important that early in the story, of the setting or world, of the rules of magic or law or ordinariness, and things along those lines. Sometimes the introduction is so brief it is practically a part of The Change. Sometimes there is a lot of setup before The Change.

Sometimes we see the story goal before The Change. But it's often more clearly expressed after The Change. That's when we really understand what the protagonist is trying to achieve or gain. That when the story embarks. It gets underway. It leaves the nest to build its own home. Gandalf marks the door and dwarves show up with a thievery plan. The Ring can no longer stay in the Shire. Bruce Wayne returns to become a symbol for Gotham. Dom Cobb takes one last job so he can return to his children. Echo Sackett arrives in town to collect her inheritance.

That when things get interesting. And complicated.

I was thinking about this, The Change, the first door. And I was thinking about my life. If my life were a story, how far into the tale of events would it be? The end? The introduction? The huge plummet before the resolution? Somewhere else entirely?

If I were writing a character based on myself—an early twenty-someone, aspiring but distracted writer, trying to help take care of her family though she is neither a wife nor mother, waiting for something to turn for the better but unsure if it will because many of her dreams have been crushed or forgotten, who is so confused as to where she is in life that she doesn't know how to navigate anymore—where would I put her in the story?

Actually, I would place her right before The Change, right before the first door where the story starts hopping along. Things would be building and falling into place, and I would set up a large story that she has no idea is about to happen. A grand, life-long adventure that would sweep her off her feet, build her up, break her heart, bring healing and unprecedented joy. She would take some steps that set her in the right direction, and the choices of others would send her on her way.

And I believe that I am a part of a story. A big story. Bigger than I'll ever author. It may not be exactly like I would plan it, but that's okay. That just means it'll be better. And it's far from over.

Did you know that Jesus is described as an author? I've recently been encouraged by Hebrews 6:9-12, 10:35-39, and 11:35-12:2.

Therefore we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.

Hebrews 12:1-2. (NKJ)

If we enjoy a story and think it's worthwhile, we like the author. Or, even if we don't like the author, we at least recognize that we like what they created.

God is The Author, and real life is His story. If I would care enough about a fictional person to give her something good and use her to tell a compelling story, how much more will my Father orchestrate my life to be and to receive blessings that point back to how good of an author He is?

Old Chinese Proverb

An accidental blow landed still brings pain.



Okay, it's not actually an old Chinese proverb (at least, not that I know of); I just made it up. Like it? Add your own in the comments section. Let's see what we can come up with. (I'm also thinking of turning mine into a haiku. Hm...)

Failure...or Plot Suspense?

It's not hard for a writer to feel like a failure. If he's not writing, then he's obviously not doing what he's supposed to. If he is writing so much that other responsibilities slide by or he doesn't live in the realm of reality between writing sessions, then he's obsessed and clearly off in the head.


Now, obviously there is a middle ground, but finding that balance between writing and living is remarkably tricky.

I, for one, frequently feel like a failure when it comes to writing. I fall in the first category. I spend so much time taking care of people and trying to maintain a semblance of sanity and cleanliness against a losing battle, that when I have time to write or edit...I sleep in. Maybe I'll pick up a book, one that's already been written and published by someone else, not my own. Oh, no. That takes too much emotional commitment and too much energy.

But I work, too. I co-teach and I tutor, and I love my jobs. Twice a week I get to talk about the workings of story and writing to the next generation, and I get paid for it! It's quite the pick-me-up, and I get excited to work on my stories. But, and there's always a but, when I pack up from the "office" I get sidetracked, distracted, and sometimes guilt-tripped into taking care of something that's more important or urgent (like, you know, people are very important).

So, I'm a caregiver more than a writer right now. Not exactly a "success story" of a writer, but still, I can't stop being a writer. It's part of my core (like phoenix tail, not a canary feather or a frog tongue, was in the core of Harry's wand). That means, that I will always come back to writing. Like this blog post right now. I have to go run some errands (after all, I need sweet tea), but I had a thought, and I needed to write it down.

So, what is one to do? While I can't speak from experience about a writer who does nothing but write, I can speak as one who hardly writes. When I'm not writing, when I'm living in the fantastical realm of reality, I'm gaining experience in the world and understanding of the aspects of it. I'm learning about myself and others (in short, people), and I'm learning about how creation works, and even more about Who created it.

And, later, that will be useful to writing and editing stories.

So, even though I'm not writing much, and I don't feel like a success as a writer right now...

Nothing is wasted. It just adds suspense and anticipation.

Just like in a polished work of fiction.