Quotable Quotes

“Writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia.”
~ E.L. Doctorow

A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.

- Oscar Wilde

Month of November

Showing posts with label discipline. Show all posts
Showing posts with label discipline. Show all posts

Thursday, November 22, 2012

In which I realize there's a lesson we are still learning...


Img_1984
I'm thankful for my family. :)

I'm thankful for the friends and support structure we have around us. We may have roots here in the Midwest, but the people in our lives give us wings as well.

Without going into exhaustive detail, my husband and I have been struggling (See: wrestling) with a decision. As we seem to do when life-changing decisions happen in our family, we pray (See: desperation, need, dependence on God), we sometimes fast, and we ask for wise counsel.

We also test God. (See: Malachi) Our whole desire as a couple, as individuals, as parents...is to do God's Will. We don't always do it right and we are far from perfect. However, we want so desperately to stick to His plan. So we call on His promises and we surrender our Tithe (the firstfruits of everything we have...not just money).

Then we wait and see how He provides - answers, abundance, life.

So this decision. We put up the test. Called on His promises...

And he decided to teach us something (See: Reteach, because we are kind of sort of stubborn and thick-headed)

Without going into exhaustive detail, the lesson that keeps coming back to us is this: That WE may plan our way. But the Lord God directs our footsteps. (See: Proverbs 16:9)

I haven't learned yet to Never say Never...

I get why God asks us not to make promises, but just yes and no. Because the promises often come back to bite me in the rear. Yes and No seem to be a bit more flexible for some reason. It leaves us open to God's Will as we are not held to obligations or guilt from broken promises.

It's an interesting idea this planning of our way. I love dreaming up the future and thinking over the big picture. It's just not always smart to keep those as expectations, not just dreams. Disappointment comes when I cling too tightly to my dreams.

All that to say, I think we are the semi-proud owners of a cat...

More details on THAT situation later... :-D

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

In which I reflect on the state of the union...



I'm going to go on record and say that if you are not married or you are under the age of eighteen, I would strongly advise not reading past this point. This contains adult material and is not age appropriate for children, though I don't belive there is anything morally wrong with what I say here.

I am a normal, healthy girl with a bit of an above average, highly enjoyable sex life. And that is all I will ever expound upon regarding personal intimacy with my husband. However, for the purposes of this blog post, I wanted to make it clear that I have experience in this topic - not as one who spends her time in erotic novels wishing for ideas to spice up her marriage bed, but as one who realizes that all the erotic fiction in the world isn't going to do squat for me or my husband. In fact, it just may end up damaging our relationship when expectations and objectionable values drive a wedge between spouses who vowed before God to love, honor, and cherish one another for as long as we both live.

I'm sorry. Comparing one's spouse to a sadistic, abusive, controlling, psychopathic freak to "spice" up one's bedroom life is not my idea of a healthy romance.

I will halt my commentary by prefacing something. I have not actually read the 50 Shades trilogy save for the opening chapter of each book. (honestly, even if the sexual aspect of the books hadn't been such a strong turn-off, the poor grammar and context would have had me burning the atrocities) I have read commentaries, news articles, and heard secondhand reports from the readers of "mommy-porn" as to its general storyline. I have perused both the secular and Christian insights into this novelty (yes, pun intended) and have formed my conclusions based on that.

One other preface. I have read both Christian and secular novels with tasteful love scenes. I have nothing against the implications of sex in a fictional work because it is just that - fictional. However, I do take high offense to an author who's made millions on trashy, raunchy porn all because our society clamors for immature, poorly written material to fulfill their sexual fantasies.

It's no better than the pornographic websites we in the Christian world speak out against, and yet many God-honoring people justify it. Why?

An article I recently read is what set me off today. Author of 50 Shades of Grey, E.L. James stated that her novels were meant to be a holiday for ladies from their husbands. In the same article, a woman filed for divorce because her husband refused to pretend to be the novel's main character - Christian Grey. Apparently, her marital bed wasn't spicy or satisfying enough and her fantasies had dissolved into lust for a fictional character whose main goal in life was controlling every last move and thought of his naive and petty girlfriend/wife.

WHAT?

The husband in the newstory was actually hoping to expedite the divorce process for a variety of reasons. I will never condone divorce as an option, but in the husband's case, I almost wish him godspeed in getting out of THAT unhealthy, damaging relationship.

A HOLIDAY FROM ONE'S HUSBAND? Are you kidding me? I have choice words running through my head and none of them are pleasant or "Christ-like". Instead I will say this...

Sorry E.L. James. I don't need a holiday from my husband. Especially to fantasize about an abusive, controlling psychopath in a crappy work of fiction based on another ALMOST equally crappy work of fiction.

My husband is worth a THOUSAND of your stupid, immature fantasies. I will take one night with him over hundreds with the supposed dream guy in your novels. Nothing about that man you wrote is a dream - I'd call it a nightmare of hellish proportions.

I've also seen several commentaries on what the authors called "true BDSM" as opposed to the fudged version in Jame's work. I won't judge another's lifestyle, but I will say this.

My husband was my first and only partner. I have no need of the kinky and pain-filled fetishes and practices of that particular brand of sex to satisfy either of us. We don't need to watch porn or read erotica or participate in bondage and domination to find a spicy, satisfying intimate relationship. And I can tell you 100% that the relationship we have is healthy and pure. We are open and honest with one another, we love each other as unconditionally as two humans can, and our family life proves it.

Are we perfect? No. Are we always lovey-dovey and romantic? Not at all.

But I can tell you that we honor God when we come together and we serve one another before meeting our own needs.

This trend towards fantasy, fiction, and play-acting disturbs me. Mainly because if you can't find satisfaction with your lover alone, if you cannot be content with one another and give to one another without the assistance of a fantasy world - and a dark, disturbing one at that - what else are you unsatisfied with in life? What else drives your discontent and leads you to seek out alternate means of happiness or fulfillment?

Saturday, November 3, 2012

In which I reflect on a thousand words...

My dear daughter has spunk, attitude, and humor. Some would call her contrary (including me when the mood fits) and others would call her a free spirit.

My son is fearless, (except when he turns the vacuum cleaner on and freaks himself out - gets himself EVERY time...) fresh, and flirtatious. Some would call him stubborn (including me when I've had enough) and others call him determined.

I love them. And I love capturing their personalities on camera! So much is forgotten or missed when I don't. All the cute captions and smiles.

They tell stories with their whole heart.

And they both have BIG hearts. :)

Sunday, October 28, 2012

In which I change up the routine just a bit...

All right. I have to wonder how many of my 'readers' are actually human beings and not cyberdroids pinging this site whenever key words pop up on their radars.

So I'm going to ask a question to see if I'm just flapping my jaws in the wind - or whatever that phrase is - or if my readers actually care what I write about.

Question: Are you human?

I feel like one of those weird scientist people asking if there's life on Mars and if so, is it humanoid or some other unknown?

In other news, I'm gearing up for NaNoWriMo2012 and if you're a writer and you don't get your hands dirty with this challenge, you ain't worth your salt. :)

No, I'm kidding. I did read on another blog post just yesterday by an editor acquaintance of mine - Jamie Chavez - that some published authors are a bit snobbish when it comes to NaNo. Apparently, it's not worth the time of day or it's an insult to all the hard work they do to think that just ANYONE can write 50,000 words in a month.

I'd say I was insulted, but as an unpublished writer, it just made me laugh really hard. Why on earth would I care what a published author thought about my taking up a writing challenge? To me, it's a great excuse for family members when I ask for more childcare. Plus, I get to mingle with other writers and budding writers on their path to self-fulfillment (See: publication, bucket list completion, general socialization with intelligent life after being stuck in the house with babbling toddlers all day long)

Smiley03

Yeah, that last one is me...so is the first example.

Anyway, I'm doing a half-rebel, half-NaNoer thing this November. I will be working on a new manuscript, but I'm also in the process of completely revamping my fairy tale. I'll hopefully be adding updates and insights into my experiences this month. If not daily then weekly at the least. (because I am human and have other obligations)

I'm going to be participating in some write-ins (See: a bunch of adults and teens/preadolescents getting together to stare at their respective computer screens/notebooks and attempt to create word art.), brainstorming with my long-suffering husband, and looking for childcare in exchange for good homecooking (See: blog post about budgeting/debt free challenge)

Along the way, I'll be looking for support in the form of love, prayers, money (See: start-up costs to publishing), and a lot of laughter. This should be great fun and a whole new adventure. I'd love it if I had company along the way (See: as long as you don't expect me to actually be social while my nose is stuck in my computer)

Thursday, October 18, 2012

In which I discover that being a parenting pantser is an epic fail...


Pantser-or-plotter-writing
My daughter's preschool teacher just informed me that DD is rather contrary. As in, she likes to take the position of Devil's Advocate in most of the daily activities.

She's four years old.

In no way am I being disrespectful when I say that she is her father's daughter. Exasperated, yes. Disrespectful, no. I try to laugh when I discover the arguments between my DH and I are all because he decided he wanted to shake things up by taking the opposing side. Even though he agreed that I was right...

GAH!

So I can call my little darling a free thinker, or I can get panicked that she's got a stubborn streak a mile wide and it's mostly my fault.

For one, I've got the same stubborn streak - and it sucks.

Two, I have discovered recently that I've been parenting the same way I do pretty much everything else in life.

By the seat of my pants.

The funny thing is, pantsing parenthood just doesn't seem to work all that well. I mean, who'd have thought that quick reactions, too much flexibilty, and a lack of consistency in routine and disciplien would have such a hugely detrimental effect on a child?

Thing is, we started out pretty good. I remember, I didn't lose my temper with DD in the first two years of her life. Not once. I was calm, cool, collected, and I even did the consistency thing.

Then we stopped moving around the country and settled down in a small midwestern town. I'm amused at the irony of that statement. The instant we get into a stable environment, my carefully planned parenting goes OUT the window.

Of course, it might have had something to do with the arrival of the second child. He did manage to shake our world up a bit.

I'm a writer. I don't really follow a schedule, outlines screw me up (unless I outline after the manuscript is written), every day my writing looks a little different. I'm not one to follow the norm, and I love being flexible with my time and resources. (Hence the getting out of debt so we CAN be more flexible with resources)...

The point is, I'm a pantser. I like not having a plan. Sure, a to-do list once in a while is okay and I don't mind having a vague schedule - especially if there are non-negotiables in the calendar. However, most of these issues are - strangely enough - negotiable, and more like guidelines anyway.

I injured myself recently and don't like the limitations that puts on me. However, I much prefer socializing, writing, playing, and reading to cleaning, appointments, and structure.

I agree, I can take it to the extreme of laziness. For the most part, however, it's just the way I thrive the most. Lost in a sort of offbeat rhythm, each day a different song to sing and dance to. I'm okay with the unknown and I love the excitement of spontaneity.

Parenting, therefore, is a huge weak spot for me. I'm not ashamed to admit it, but it does land like a cold dose of reality in my gut. I wanted to be a mom my whole life, and I don't think I'm doing that good a job at it. In part because of the epic failure of pantsing it and in part because I just didn't have realistic expectations of what my mommyhood was going to look like.

I'm Sarah, and I'm a pantser parent.

HELP!

Saturday, October 13, 2012

In which I lament the forced laziness and wonder why I'm lamenting...


Lazy-cat5
As a person whose natural tendencies sway toward laziness, you'd think a two week hiatus from heavy lifting, exertion, and work would sound like heaven.
Note to self: When the desire to be lazy gets overwhelming, remember not to injure myself in such a debilitating way. It's NOT WORTH IT...
I fell in the beginning of October. Some of my readers may already know the story, but I will not be sharing the embarrassing details on this blog. I'm just not that masochistic. The only thing you need to know about this story is that I fell. The resulting impact left me with a bruised and swollen left arm and a bruised and swollen right knee. And some major skin wounds that bled more when the scabs rubbed off on my clothing than the initial period of wounding.
Now they just itch like crazy.
But my arm and leg both still hurt - a LOT.
I'm okay with pain. I just did Tough Mudder last month, I've birthed two almost nine pound babies without the help of drugs, and I was in the ROTC for a short stint in college. I'm not a victim when it comes to pain and I usually don't let it slow me down.
Except of course when it gives me no other choice because it's screaming that its presence is necessary to remind me of the healing process taking place in some important joints and muscles.
Who'd a thunk it?
The first few days I thought, cool! Now DH can't complain that nothing is getting done around the house, because I have a darn good excuse.
Day four rolled around and I was starting to miss sleep. My arm and leg still hurt like crazy and do you know how difficult it is to chase a two year old around when you're crippled? I don't recommend it.
Day seven rolled by and I wanted to tear my hair out with the pain, insomnia, children who take advantage of their poor, injured mother's limitations, and a husband who left thinly veiled rebukes about the dirtiness of the house. Even though he said he understood.
It's day eleven. And I want to go into my garden and rip up all the old vines and plants by their roots...with BOTH hands.
In the realm of human limitations, I can't.
I have never felt so lazy, nor have I felt so powerless and incompetent than I have for the last eleven days...
Did I mention my kids have been sick throughout this whole ordeal? And my DH is working a lot of overtime.
God, if you keep me from EVER harming myself like that again, I promise I will never be lazy or use laziness as an excuse for why my house is not clean.
And I will clean my house on a regular basis too...just to sweeten the deal.

Thursday, August 30, 2012

In which I address all of our dear, loved ones in pursuit of vulnerability

Proverbs 6:5

New American Standard Bible (NASB)

Deliver yourself like a gazelle from the hunter’s hand
And like a bird from the hand of the fowler.

This is the theme verse for the Total Money Makeover.

If you will live like no one else, later you can live like no one else. ~ Dave Ramsey

This is the motto for the Total Money Makeover.

 

These are our mission statements for the next year. I will explain what I mean and then give an altar call of sorts - or a reverse altar call actually.

When Jake and I got married six years ago, we had debt. It's pretty normal right? Student loans, credit cards, car loans. It's the American Dream right?

Wrong. It's not OUR American Dream anyway.

By all accounts, we are living pretty well. We have a home (with a mortgage of course), two cars, really good degrees with the promise of jobs no matter where we move, and money left over at the end of the month.

And in five of our six years, we were living from month to month. Why? Because we were spending money we didn't have to get things we didn't need. Instead of tackling our debt and using our finances wisely (See: Stewarding God's resources), we did what every normal American couple/individual/family does.

So in our sixth year of marriage, we are stressed out. Not because we can't make ends meet. But because most of our money goes to pay off creditors instead of being used for the things we have long desired to give our money to.

Jake and I want to open our home as a ministry for those in need. We want to mentor other couples in their marriage and family and life issues. We want to take our kids on vacations to see exotic and new locations. We want our kids to go to college debt free. We want a MINIVAN so we can finally take uncramped vacations. We want to go out to eat once in a while. We WANT all these things.

We COULD have them guilt free but for one thing: the overwhelming amount of debt we owe to others. Our money is not ours to spend/save/give - because technically, it belongs to the ones we owe.

Proverbs 22:7, "The rich rule over the poor, and the borrower is slave of the lender" (NRSV).

Slaves - according to my estimation - aren't free to do much of anything except work and toil.

Frankly, Jake and I are sick to death of being slaves. We want to be free. And we want to pass down a legacy of freedom to our children and their children and their children and so on...

 

In the winter of 2010/2011, we took our first Financial Peace University class at our church. And in the first few months after the class, we paid off a HUGE amount of debt in our gazelle intensity. Several miracles occurred along the way to help encourage our enthusiasm. But as spring hit and the novelty wore off, something happened.

 

We lost the momentum. We lost our place and forgot our ultimate destination.
Until this month actually. August 2012. I finished my third straight zero-based budget and realized something.
We can actually do this. We could potentially be out of debt in one year's time, free from our masters and free to serve Christ alone. It's going to be hard and rice and beans will become a byword in our household.
But we are SICK of being slaves and sick of the cheetah catching us unaware.

So now we are making it public.

We have about $70,000 in debt (not counting our mortgage, which is baby step 6 in Dave Ramsey's plan so we won't worry about it yet) We will be scrimping and saving EVERY last penny until we get rid of our shackles and we need the help of our loved ones to do it.

Which brings me to our reverse altar call ~

We are planning on being a bit like hermits for this coming year. We will not be taking any trips save for the ones that have already been budgeted this month - before the gazelle intensity kicked in. We will not be dining out, we will not be attending theaters, plays, concerts, or anything that costs money purely for entertainment purposes. We will not be traveling to see family and friends (again, save for the couple weekends we already had etched in our budget i.e. my brother-in-law's wedding etc.) We will not be purchasing gifts - homemade ones will be the best we can give including food at this juncture. We will even be giving up our annual Christmas tree (my sacrifice) to save that $40 toward debt. We will be living ultra-frugally (coupons are WELCOME if you have reserves)

This is NOT because we don't like you or are isolating ourselves from the world. In a year's time, you will probably see so much of us that you will be sick of our faces. :-P *just kidding*

A year from now, we are already dreaming up our trip to Tennessee where Dave Ramsey's Financial Peace Plaza is to scream out our debt free status on the radio. (Times and dates will be given later so you can listen in)

We want you guys and gals to celebrate with us a year from now, so the celebrations for this year are put on hold in order to get there.

For those of you who like to give us gifts for our birthdays and holidays, we (Jake and I) are requesting nothing unless it's cash toward our debt or a hot meal once in a while. And THAT is not a plea for help. Just a preference.  :-)

If you wish to see us during this intense time, feel free to drop by (let us know in advance so we can add some veggies or homemade ice cream to our rice and beans meal...) :-P

Just know that Jake will more than likely be working late and I will be keeping the home fires burning (and doing whatever odd jobs come my way). I tutor, babysit, walk dogs, garden, edit papers/manuscripts, and clean houses - let me know what you need and we can talk pricing.

Jake and I take great joy in this endeavor of ours and I also weep many tears knowing that our stupidity for the last few years has gotten us here in the first place. But we are not going to continue down that path.

Prayers and your understanding of our goal are the best things you can give at this time. We love you all and we WANT so desperately to be involved in your lives and friendships - but we want to do it without the weight of debt hanging over us.

Feel free to call or write during this time with encouragement, prayers, or questions. We are completely open and will not be offended if you think we're crazy...

(See: Dave Ramsey for further information about our journey)

Thank you for your support and love during this time! We love you all.

Thursday, August 2, 2012

In which some perspective is gained...sort of


If You Give A Mom A Muffin
by Kathy Fictorie
If you give a mom a muffin,
She’ll want a cup of coffee to go with it.
She’ll pour herself some.
Her three-year-old will spill the coffee.
She’ll wipe it up.
Wiping the floor, she’ll find dirty socks.
She’ll remember she has to do laundry.
When she puts the laundry in the washer,
She’ll trip over boots and bump into the freezer.
Bumping into the freezer will remind her she has to plan for supper.
She will get out a pound of hamburger.
She’ll look for her cookbook (“101 Things To Do With a Pound of Hamburger”).
The cookbook is sitting under a pile of mail.
She will see the phone bill, which is due tomorrow.
She will look for her checkbook.
The check book is in her purse that is being dumped out by her two-year-old.
She’ll smell something funny.
She’ll change the two year old’s diaper.
While she is changing the diaper, the phone will ring.
Her five-year-old will answer and hang up.
She’ll remember she wants to phone a friend for coffee.
Thinking of coffee will remind her that she was going to have a cup.
And chances are…
If she has a cup of coffee,
Her kids will have eaten the muffin that went with it.

I am impressed by her creativity...and spot on assessment.

I didn't have a whole lot to say today, but I realized something in the middle of an exhausted haze. (see: random midnight poopy diaper and corresponding wide awake son for the rest of the night)
(see also: any and all grammar, spelling, or punctuation issues are results of said exhausted haze)
Other than the absolutely brainy lightbulb moment when I realized, "Oh wow. I guess I'm just really tired," I also concluded that it's okay to need time and space for myself. As long as that is not my biggest focus - i.e. my children and husband are number two and three respectively. If you don't know my number one priority, I am not shouting it loud enough.

I get that I am a wife and mother. I understand I am a woman of faith and responsible for maintaining my priorities in the correct order.

I also get that I'm human. And it's okay for me to be - for lack of a better word - human. I'm not going to get lightning striking me when I have a selfish moment. I won't be chastised or rebuked for liking my silence and solitude - especially since I don't have much of it nowadays.

I know that when I'm well-rested and refreshed from my quiet times, I respond with greater positivity to the situations and circumstances that surround me.

One of my aunts and I talked today for a little while. I liked what she told me, because I need to remember it more often. I may respond better in the rested times, but I also need to know that those times are not always available - especially in this phase of life. (see: zombie mom with smalls) However, it is my reaction during those exhausted, zombie-like times of life that are the true measure of my character and selflessness.

I will never be a mom who sends her kids to day care and spends all week long on manicures, book clubs, and living it up. Don't get me wrong; those things are not bad at all. I just know that for me, those things are not going to mean much in the light of my eternal perspective. And I need to remember that the eternal perspective is SO much bigger.

That's why I still love my kids and my husband after a long and exhausting day. That's why my housework fades into the background while I read the wonderful adventures of Winnie-the-Pooh - for the 5 millionth time. That's why my exhaustion may make me lose perspective - and well, everything else along the way - but it will not be permanent and it WILL pass.

Hey, I had time to write this blog didn't I?

Maybe I just need a refresher course on time management.

Monday, November 14, 2011

In which I wax poetic about the benefits of exercise

Not really.

Exercise is NOT poetic. Not by any stretch of the imagination.

If I had been born about 100 years earlier, you wouldn't be reading this blog about my determination to lose all the baby weight...and a little more for health's sake.

You wouldn't know what a BLOG was, but that's irrelevent right now.

I'd more than likely be a farmer's wife (or a rancher in the Wild West; after all my husband is a visionary) breaking my back and sweating over the virgin soil of a new land. No matter how many kids I had, my waist would be tiny and I'd be more worried about cholera and scarlet fever than I would about whether my figure was still an effective seduction tool to use on said rancher husband.

I was kidding about the seduction part - don't really have to worry about a husband who doesn't find me attractive. He likes gray hair and wrinkles...

So I'm nearly halfway through the month - good lord is it really only one more day to the halfway point? My 50,000 word goal is turning out to be closer to 80,000 because I am guaranteed to reach the former by the end of this week. Sooner if I stop procrastinating and writing other things - like this blog.

Anyway, I got to thinking as I've gotten closer to my NaNo success story. It takes a lot of discipline to do what we writers have done this month. I know. My hands are on the verge of a physical breakdown any day now. Been doing regular stretching exercises and figuring out how much money to budget toward wrist braces in case of carpal tunnel.

The point being that writing as much as I have this month has really given me pause to evaluate other areas in which I LACK the discipline to reach my goals. Or I just go at it half-adz* and hope to God, He'll carry me the rest of my lazy way.

I'm lazy. I'll admit it for the world to see. Confession is good for the soul and if I have it out in public, I can't hide behind my excuses anymore.

Thing is, as a follower of Christ, I'm made in His image. Heck, as a created being made by God's hand, I'm created in His image. And I'm doing a pretty poor job of representing Him, because I'm pretty sure "lazy" isn't anywhere on His list of personality traits. I've got work to do if I'm ever going to look remotely like the God I serve.

Someone will say, "But isn't that His job? To mold and make you like clay in the Potter's hands?"

Sure.

He's not going to mold and make me into His image if I don't want to though. So I have to actually want it first of all. Then I have to take those steps toward becoming pliable in His hands. He'll meet me halfway. He'll give 100% if I give 100%.

And let's face it - I am SHORT of 100% by quite a bit...there might not be a number small enough to mark how far short I am of the goal.

The important thing is that I KNOW I'm short. And I'm running like the hounds of hell are after me to finish the race. I'm dead to laziness and just settling for getting by. I'm running into the arms of my Savior and I'm going to spend my life (the rest of it anyway) proving that I'm not a half-assed* sort of person. He doesn't just have part of me; He's got ALL of me...every last sorry piece.

Of course, I'd like it if there was PHYSICALLY less of me to offer. Those love handles are just not something I really want to offer up on the altar of sacrifice.

Or they're something I'd love to see burn on the altar of sacrifice.Depends on perspective I guess.

All in the name of becoming more like God obviously.

 

 

*We've all heard the phrase that something was done "half-ass," but few people stop to wonder what such a ridiculous expression could possibly mean. The term "half-ass" evolved from "half-adz." An adz is an axelike tool with a curved blade used for shaping wood. If you were wealthy and paid top-dollar for a new fireplace, the mantle would be shaped using an adz in the front as well as the back side, which isn't visible. However, if you weren't wealthy and wanted to save money, you could have only the front visible portion of the mantle shaped, this cheaper job being a "half-adz" job. (See: Half-Assed)

Sunday, November 13, 2011

In which progress is noted and I make myself vulnerable as an author



So it’s Day 13 of the NaNoWriMo challenge and I feel it as good a time as any to provide an update on my progress.
It's been a ride so far I can tell you. Most of you might already see my word count plastered on my other social media pages and the NaNo site. Despite the ups and downs of November that have already got my head spinning, I can honestly say the experience is MORE than worth the cost. (mainly paid out in sleep dividends)
I can only attribute this success in my endeavors to the following:
  1. Seeing other WriMo’s and their word counts gave me goals to pace myself against. I've never gone a day without writing something. Even if it was just a two hundred word blurb about a chapter I will most likely scrap completely when all is said and done.
  2. My husband has been avidly reading over everything I write as I compile it into something that will one day - fingers crossed - be tangible, readable, and actually enjoyable for a wider population of readers. DH is also something of a drill sergeant when it comes to his methods of encouragement. (Great example during my exercise routine yesterday morning. "One more sit up, Sarah. Don't give up. Alright three more now. Come on. You aren't a quitter." All yelled at the top of his lungs. For those of you who know my DH, you know he NEVER yells. It's actually intimidating.)
  3. My own expectations. I have plans for this novel (and the two outlined sequels as well). This story has embedded itself into my brain now. The characters are alive and actively telling their stories. See: Socially acceptable schizophrenic) I am passionate about telling fairy tales and this one has all the elements I've loved since I first learned to read. It's a rough draft now. I am hoping desperately to find someone who's just as passionate about telling this story as I am - so I can publish it someday soon.
I am way ahead of my goals which has been a delightful surprise and a blessing since I know the rest of November will only bring more excitement and scheduled activities to interfere with my writing. It's a safety net. When November 30th rolls around, I'll be more than ready to verify my success. :)
The actual writing?
It’s rough, like I said. Okay, some parts just suck. And I've skipped around so much on the scenes that it'll take me a whole month just to piece it all back together again. However, the story is definitely workable and according to my DH, has GREAT potential...it's brought us both to laughter and tears already. (Though the tears on my part may be due largely in part to my own wacked out hormones and the god-awful sleep schedule I'm keeping. See: Insomniac)
Now it’s time for some NaNoWriMo fun facts! (For those of you whose ears I haven't already burned off with my inane chatter)
Wordcount: 34,965
Words Remaining: 15,035
Days Remaining: 18
Words Per Day To Finish On Time: 836 (Should I stretch it out that long???)
Name of Hero/Heroine: Jared Octavius Grandstorm & Serra Nadine Kingston (AKA Princess Serena)
Name of Villain: Tiernan (Usurper of the throne of Erene)
Other Characters’ Names: Gwendolyn Atticus Fiona Brand (Don't ask yet; I'm not telling), The Oracle (AKA Iris, goddess of the rainbow), Melnoch, Bomrin, Iakona, Elise, Rose, Amlodi, N'dalea, Anatole (oh he's an interesting character), Prince Cedric, Leyla (yeah that name has got to change), Stasia, Taylor Ellington III, Kate...and many more!
Places of Interest: New York, Tirn Aille, Indana, Erene, Molwood (Best ale this side of the veil - no kidding; it's really their advertisement), Vairhol, I'tori Desert, Wizard's Annex, Forbidden Forest
Magic: Still working out the rules in this reality, but the basic premise is that there's good and evil, light and dark. When a person or being uses the magic for evil or manipulation of unchangeable truths, the magic becomes twisted and bent. In turn (and points to whoever guesses my reference) the wielder of the bent magic becomes subservient to what the wielder once controlled) I do know that music will be playing a large part in the story as a magical element...
Animals: The usual, though many of the animals can communicate with those of royal blood.
The Story So Far:
She always dreamed of being the princess in a fairy tale. Too bad no one ever informed this princess what happens when the fairy tale hits the fan!
Serra Nadine Kingston literally lives out of sync with not only her peers, but the world around her. Adopted at an early age by a wealthy couple, she enjoys her fairy tales and little else. She cannot sing to save her life, she's completely average in everything, and not one boy notices her unless she trips over their feet - sometimes not even then. Klutzy and unsure of herself, she quickly becomes targeted by the high school queen bee and her horde. She spends the next three years of her life wishing for a knight in shining armor who can vanquish the wicked witch and steal her away into a land of happily ever afters.
On one of the most tragic days in history - and in her own life - Serra receives her first kiss. From the lips of a compelling stranger on the streets of New York, who then disappears without a word of explanation. She might have passed it off except for the strange things that happen to her after that kiss.
It's bad enough when her skin and hair suddenly glow healthy and blemish free, causing the boys at school to finally take notice and the Queen Witch to redouble her efforts of sabotage now that Serra is actually a THREAT to her popularity. She thought it couldn't get worse when the pigeons in the park started gossiping about her - and she could UNDERSTAND them. It's nearly the end of the world when her voice suddenly has range, tone, pitch, and power - and her best friend suggests she try out for choir again. (She'd gotten a waiver when her instructor's ears bled so hard the poor woman started crying)
The worst thing about finding out she just MIGHT be a real princess in a fairy tale though?
She feels the magic of the fairy tale world in her dying a little more every day - and unless she can find the man who awakened her with his magic-laden kiss, she won't survive to see her seventeenth birthday.
Somehow, being the princess in the fairy tale isn't all it was cracked up to be anymore. The Grimm Brothers definitely had the right idea. And she was suing Disney if she ever got the chance.

Prince Jared, born the second son of the king and queen of Erene, lived in the menacing shadow of his older brother Tiernan his whole life. The arrival of a neighboring kingdom's infant crown princess just means he's now got an annoying tag-along on all of his adventures. Still, she's not a bad playmate all things considered. Until a protection spell gifted to her at birth goes awry and he ends up blamed for her disappearance.
Now seventeen year later, he's on the run from a vindictive, jealous older brother (and the bumbling assassins Tiernan sends once in a while just to torment him) and he's only recently lost the stigma attached to being the last person to see the infant princess before she vanished.
An old friend and wizard calls on Jared for help and the prince answers - to his everlasting chagrin. See, what Gwen forgot to mention in his plea for help was that a certain tag-along princess is the damsel in distress - and Jared just won the bachelor of the year quest to wake her up with a kiss. Theoretically, he can still avoid any long term repercussions (AKA marriage to said princess) because technically (Didn't I mention this?) she is still betrothed to his brother. Magical contracts don't just fade away because of a little thing like travel between realities. So Jared's safe...Right?
Except said princess keeps getting under his skin and he's had enough of just surrendering to Tiernan's menacing shadow - especially when his surrender endangers the princess with whom he's slowly falling in love. He'll never admit it out loud though.
Now he (and the supposedly wonky protection spell Gwen gave Serena at birth) is the only thing standing in the way of Tiernan's evil intentions toward said princess. He's also the key to undoing a curse on his family that triggered the moment Tiernan was ill-conceived. (Pun intended)
Will Jared rise to the challenge and win the girl?
He'd rather drown himself in a good vat of Molwood ale.
At least that's the story he's sticking to.
Extract: Offbeat: Part One in A Fairy Tale Trilogy
    Of all the places for Gwen to plant a wizard's tower, the idiot had to choose the center of the Forbidden Forest.
And, Jared mused dryly, whatever imbecile named it the Forbidden Forest was high on fairy dust. The massive expanse of wooded land wasn't all that forbidden per se. Just a bit wild. Exactly the type of place for which he had an innate affinity that drove his mother batty.
Come to think of it; Mum might very well have named it to keep me from going out and getting myself tusked by a wild boar or gutted by a unicorn incensed by my less than sterling reputation. He chuckled and hacked his way through a few low hanging branches on a gnarled apple tree that dripped ominously with a bright green substance. His sword would need a thorough cleaning and a few turns at the whetstone when next he found a blacksmith.
He finally caught sight of the crumbling tower in a fogged clearing just beyond a hedge of particularly nasty looking briars and settled on his usual mode of greeting. After all, it had been a while and he was feeling particularly puckish today.
"Oh Gwennie dearest, will you let down your long beard and bid me enter your gilded prison?"
His cheerful, falsetto shout earned him several colorful curses and a projectile globe of bewitchingly rosy hue that Jared caught in midair. A silvery-crowned, dwarfish figure poked his face out of the lone window and snarled an unrepeatable greeting in reply.
"Curse you Jared Octavius Grandstorm. A thousand curses on you for using that bloody moniker. My mother was a fool, naming me for the daughter she never had."
"Now, now Gwennie. We wouldn't want you bounding about, carelessly cursing another royal into nonexistence. Would we?" Jared watched the elderly wizard flinch as though struck and a brief flicker of malicious pleasure at causing pain rushed through him. Serves him right for making my life a living hell for the last seventeen years.
Many in both kingdoms still blamed Jared for...well it wouldn't due to rehash the past now. The tell-tale twinge that he got after heckling his father's ex-adviser indicated the familiar gnawing guilt. Years of suppressing his conscience still had not completely removed its intrusion.
"A thousand pardons old friend," He finally surrendered to what he referred to as his worst flaw - compassion. "I take my bitterness out on you because there is no one else in the kingdom who can handle it."
Gwen sighed heavily, ready forgiveness in the glint of empathy shining through aged eyes. They had both suffered much over the years; misunderstanding, censure, unforgiveness...disdain.
"Here we are on the eve of possibly changing the outcome of our destiny and we return to sniping and insult. You'd think two grown men could learn to better get along after being thrown into the same fire pot for all this time," The old wizard released another tired sigh and Jared watched the spark of a fighting spirit disappear back into oblivion.
The aged head pulled back through the small opening into the shadowed room as Jared waited patiently in the clearing below. While he waited, he polished the apple on his sleeve, sniffed it once, and satisfied at the absence of dark magic, took a bite. He wouldn’t have blamed his friend for tossing a poisoned apple, but was thankful for edible food all the same. It had been awhile since he ate anything decent. His brother’s last attempts on his life had kept him running throughout the various kingdoms of Tirn Aille. His last hiding place had been right in the midst of the enemy and the pickings were slim in the I’tori desert as it was. It would be nice to be in a civilized country once again; Molwood dark ale, meat that was good and dead hours before consumption, and women.
At this point, it was a stalemate as to which need was most pressing.
A distinct shuffling could be heard, accompanied by several ominous bangs and more curses. Finally the stooped figure emerged from a crooked doorway half hidden by climbing vines and rubble. The door itself had long disintegrated, helped along by wood-boring insects and the ravages of time. But Gwen's well-devised wards would keep most intruders at bay - particularly the four-footed ones looking for a midnight snack.
Jared watched warily as his old friend beckoned him past the wards, but eventually gave in and stepped through. Other than a sense of bone-chilling cold as he passed the protective shield, no other harm befell him. Unless he counted the ticklish strands of a spider’s webbing that clung to him, but that was more annoyance than harm. He had a feeling Gwen left up the cold sensation as a means of retribution for the cruel greeting. After the last visit, he was surprised there was no magical shock involved. Jared could be an incessant tease sometimes and the old man possessed an equally punishing streak. The two men were surprisingly well-matched in their friendship, all differences aside.
Gwendolyn Atticus Fiona Brand always blamed his mother for his inability to maintain the proper poise and respect required of the realm's chief wizard. Ex-chief wizard now; another reason for his current estrangement from the woman. He would have gone by Atticus and attempted to reclaim some of his dignity - and his self-esteem - but a youngster on the playground called him out one day and the first name stuck like dragon-tongue glue. It was to his credit as a master in wizardry that he managed to keep the respect of the people for as long as he did.
"It's good to see you my boy. Won't you come in for a cup of tea?" The unfortunate man asked with a bit of his usual jovial personality returned to him. He patted Jared on the shoulder as they entered his home, the touch friendly and inviting. "I would prefer a little pleasant repast before getting down to the business end."
"Why did you call me here anyway?" Jared refused the distraction with an arched brow and crossed arms in a defiant stance. Gwen groaned and shook his head in resignation. "Is Tiernan giving you a difficult time again?"
"That depends on what you mean by difficult. The crown prince is at the root of my reason for contacting you nevertheless. Bloody boy repudiates me and still expects me to be at his beck and call."
"It’s just because he didn’t want you on his payroll anymore. Now he can use your services without losing his gold.”
“Yes, well this task will hopefully settle my debts with him once and for all.”
“What is it this time? Dragon he's too busy to fight? Enemies on the northern border he needs me to eliminate?" Jared scoffed at the crown prince's self-importance. "A damsel in distress he cannot rescue because of a conveniently scheduled counsel meeting with the Mountain dwarves?"
Gwen ushered him into the chaotic hovel the wizard affectionately called home, absently shaking his head at each sarcastic question. He made his way skillfully through the jumble of books, alchemy instruments, and sundry clutter while Jared struggled to find a path through unfamiliar territory. It seemed his old friend had amassed quite a few new trinkets since his last visit. He was also pretty certain that the room had been expanded magically in order to make room for it all.
At Jared’s last inquiry, the wizard stuttered mid-shake. The look of sheer guilt would usually have Jared laughing loudly. Gwen did a good impression of a child, caught with his hand in a crock full of honey cakes, for a man pushing the end of his first century. This time, the old magician's expression landed with sickening dread in Jared’s stomach.
"I must find a worthy man who could bring her back in his stead," Jared closed his eyes as the nausea intensified. "You really are the only other worthy man in any of the kingdoms I can send and..."
"No. NO. NO!" Each no was stated with more force than the last. "What about Prince Cedric? Or Anatole? Even Marsden has to be royal enough for the quest. Better yet, why won't my idiot brother go do his own job instead of delegating? Don't you think sending someone in his place might change the entire situation?"
"As far as I can deduce, the spell is not that specific. Your brother already has the right of the firstborn and a betrothal claim. Sending someone else won't change the underlying circumstance...theoretically speaking."
"Then send one of the other men I mentioned. I want nothing to do with his asinine plan."
"Prince Cedric is already married and I am pretty certain that Rose would have his head if he so much as looked at another woman. Anatole is...well...less than worthy, and I'll just leave it at that," Gwen ticked off the count on his fingers as he spoke.
"And Marsden? He's royal and single and...not Anatole," Jared bit out through clenched teeth.
"Marsden isn't truly royal, as well you know. His mother bastardized the lad when she was caught philandering amongst the castle servants. Not even magic can determine his true lineage and that alone disqualifies him, not to mention the fact that red hair has never appeared in the Woodburn line for as long as our realm has existed." The stooped set of the elderly wizard’s shoulders suddenly shifted and he stood tall and stoic. The intensity of the change frankly intimidated Jared - a feat over which few could claim mastery. "Marsden's kingdom is a lesser holding anyway. And before you go begging me to send the Troll prince, hostilities are too high even now; King Bomrin would be more liable to eat her as soon as kiss her. Or send his son for that matter."
"Woodkin, not trolls. The trolls, as you call them are not of a cannibalistic nature, though I see your point. However, I am positive my brother did not mean for me to take this particular quest. He's never liked me playing with his toys and you know that," Jared was fishing; he was well aware of the fact, but desperation will drive a man to any lengths. “Tiernan just got finished sending his last assassin after me; I don’t want to give him an actual reason to this time.”
"Your brother is...not always mindful of the details when he makes an order. He merely finds loopholes whereby he can avoid doing the difficult work himself. And you know he is fighting to maintain a tenuous hold over the kingdom. If he goes, he could lose everything, though that’s not a bad idea in the long run."
"Treason Gwen? I've never taken you for that sort before."
"I speak the truth and you know it Jared. You would've made a much better king and it's a pity indeed that you were born second. You know when to abide by the rules, but you also know there's a time and place for breaking them."
Jared growled a warning and the wizard threw up both hands in surrender. Gwen usually gauged well how far he could push him before his limits were breached. And this subject was a touchy one as it was.
At the same time, he knew his old friend spoke what everyone else in the kingdom already knew.
Tiernan was a brutal monarch with a sadistic bent. He kept the laws of course; but he took great pleasure in resurrecting some of the old laws that even their father had refused to heed. Laws involving torture, execution, and ultimately absolute power. Jared knew that for the kingdom to thrive, change was an inevitable and much needed part of its survival.
But who was he to offer his opinion? A second son really didn't hold any sway over the crown. Tiernan had already tried to get rid of him multiple times for insubordination. At least that was the excuse he gave. Laying low may be the coward’s way, but it kept him alive and Jared liked breathing.
"I have said my piece, my boy, so I will say no more on the subject. Moreover, you still need to be the one to go and awaken her. It IS your quest whether you agree with me or not."
There was a shrewd, calculating look in the wizard's eyes that Jared rarely saw. It once again reminded him of Gwen's wisdom and deep intuition hidden beneath a largely foppish exterior. Not for the first time did he consider the very substantial possibility that every circumstance surrounding his old friend could be a well-orchestrated game.
He dismissed it instantly as just the paranoid part of his personality playing tricks. It wouldn't be the first time that happened anyway.
Aware. That's what it is; that expression. Jared shivered a bit. Like he knows something I don't know.
And Gwen still stood awaiting his answer. The younger man cursed under his breath.
"We can finally right the wrong that was done so long ago, my boy. If I could go, I would and well you know it," The wizard took on a pleading tone, alerting Jared's conscience once again with a painful throb.
"If I refused?" He wasn't giving up without a fight, conscience be damned.
"She is finally of age Jared; her presence here is required if we are going to maintain stability within the kingdoms. If we miss this window of opportunity, who knows when the next one will be? Furthermore, your brother may yet be redeemed if she returns."
"I have a sinking feeling that you do know but are refusing to tell me. And if you truly wanted me to accept this bloody quest, you really need a better argument than that my bloody brother might change his ways. I thought you preferred his abdication over redemption anyway."
"Beside the point Jared," Gwen waved away his statement with a careless shake of his hand. "I need you to take this task upon your shoulders. Please."
Jared scrubbed roughly at the back of his neck. His calloused fingers traced the puckered scar that began just beneath his hairline and whose origins still gave him hellish nightmares. Another reminder of his brother's conniving, calculating ways.
"It's been seventeen years Gwen. I am finally losing the stigma that little tag-along gave me and now you are asking me to bring her back? Offering her up as a sacrifice to my brother no less."
"That was never her fault; the blame lies solely on my shoulders and I apologize for that. But it's time to bring her home and we consequently have the means of doing so at our fingertips. Will you condemn her to always live in a reality not her own? That alone is worse than death."
"Curse you Gwen; you know my answer already. On one condition however. And I won't take no for an answer because it's a deal breaker."
"What would that be?" The wizard had sprung into action the moment Jared spoke of conditions, puttering around the crumbling lab as he drew lines and glyphs on the only empty wall amidst the clutter in preparation for the portal. The younger man grew impatient at the meticulousness of Gwen’s work. It looked as if the representation of a door had already started forming before he got there.
His yes was merely formality as far as Gwen seemed to believe.
"Once the quest is over, I wash my hands of the entire thing. As far as I am concerned, I never had anything to do with her awakening. Is that clear?" Jared nearly growled his request, but it wasn't necessary to use force.
"Agreed. Now I prepared the portal to take you within five leagues of her last position. After you get there, it's just a question of scenting her inborn magic."
"Will she actually have magic? She's been in a different reality for nearly her whole life."
"The magic is there, though it may be a bit muted under the circumstances. Theoretically, the reality in which she exists has its own primitive form of magic; this should make it a bit easier for you to locate her."
"Because she smells differently?" Jared scoffed, reasoning out Gwen's logic.
"Well, technically, it would be her magic that smells different. Not the girl," Was the dry response. "But yes; that's the general idea."
"How much time do I have?"
"Until sunset. The cycles of time seem to be the roughly the same for both realities, so just keep an eye on the sky. Any other questions?"
"Would you answer them if I did?" An awkward silence pervaded as the old wizard continued his task. "So that's a no then?"
"The portal is nearly ready. Prepare yourself. It's not a smooth ride as far as I know," Gwen stepped back from his drawing and dusted the chalk off his hands with a satisfied expression. He did not even acknowledge Jared's sarcastic response.
"What? No last meal before you send me to certain doom? What happened to tea and cake?"
"Tea? Take this instead boy," Gwen offered him a silver flask taken from the folds of his wizard's robes. "You are going to need something a bit stronger than tea for this particular quest."
Jared grasped the small flask in his left hand, his right already unscrewing the silver top eagerly. After taking a sniff, that lit up his eyes and watered them simultaneously, he gratefully tossed off the potent brew. A loud belch in gratitude swiftly followed and he tossed the empty flagon into a corner of the room with a flourish. Molwood dark ale had always been a favorite of his, a treat whenever he visited friends among the Woodkin.
Gwen arched a brow in amusement and clapped his hands together twice before spreading them out in front of his artwork. A muttered word and a single clear note followed, and the wall glowed with an otherworldly light as the portal opened.
"I can only hold the gate open for so long. Find her, wake her, and then retrieve her through the same portal location before sunset. Can you do that?"
"If I said no?" Another eye roll was all Jared received for his efforts and he gave up the fight. "I guess I'll be seeing you later, princess or no princess."
As he stepped toward the shimmering entry to a foreign reality, Gwen stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.
"It's imperative Jared. Do not come back here without her. Drag her kicking and screaming if you have to, but do not return without the girl."
"Or the wicked fairy godmother will turn her into a toadstool?" He did not pause to hear Gwen's sharp retort. With a running leap, he was lost in a convolution of wind and light.
Gwen was correct about the transportation. His first action when he got to the other side was to promptly vomit into a conveniently located hedge.
He was going to murder the wizard when he got back to Tirn Aille.
***
How are you guys keeping motivated? And how are my fellow first timers finding the NaNo experience?

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

NaNoWriMo 2011

Tried it last year. Got to 3500 words and stopped. Don't really know why. It might have been pregnancy, or the moving cross-country thing, or maybe I just didn't care much about it at that point.

Sorry. I should probably explain why I am rambling on about something that happened this time last year.

National Novel Writing Month in November. Say that three times fast..

Images

I know what you're thinking. "You just DID a novel writing weekend. Are you insane?"

Either that or, "A novel in a month should be a breeze for someone who just clocked 27,000 words in three days. Right?"

Yes and no...respectively.

I am insane. That has already been proven. One of my favorite quotes is from E.L. Doctorow. He says that,

Writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia.

I am a writer; therefore, I am schizophrenic. See? Easy. I listen to voices in my head all the time. Sometimes they tell me to kill people...sometimes they tell me to maim and seriously disable someone...sometimes they tell me that I need to seriously get a life...

Sometimes they tell me to change the world.

It's a good thing the voices only allow this stuff on paper isn't it? Okay, minus the changing the world thing...

So I am competing in another contest and since the question about my sanity has been answered, I will address your other concern.

I had a weekend of no kids, no (okay very little) husband, no meal making, cleaning, laundry, yard work, or other distractions of any kind...

This contest is all about writing when life is still going on all around you. Making the words flow when babies are crying, husbands are bellowing for dinner, and that leaning tower of laundry in your room is about to perform a successful coup of your supposed bedroom sanctuary.

I am not doing a fundraiser this year. My body, brain, and life are too massively uncoordinated right now. I blame my smalls and my husband...mostly. :0)

I am writing 50,000+ words in November - starting at 12:01am on the 1st and ending at 11:59pm on the 30th. No prize money is being doled out, but a whole heck of a lot of satisfaction at my accomplishment will be felt.

So if you all want to support me in this endeavor, send me flowers, chocolate, HUGS, chocolate, did I say flowers, offers of babysitting (always welcome, though payment would be in the form of a meal or three...), a bottle of champagne to celebrate, PRAYER (mandatory if nothing else is), and did I say chocolate and flowers? Oh, oh. And hugs...

I will be updating sporadically whether by video or blog (or both) and you will get to see a glimpse into my craziness as a hopeful writer/author!


See you!

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

I'm taking a writing course online right now in the hopes of improving my work and actually spending the time getting feedback on some of my old stuff.

It's great. The best part about it is that every assignment is a maximum of 500 words. So I am learning a LOT about making my writing tighter, more concise, and still maintaining the elements of the story.

This is one more step in the right direction I hope. And the thing that makes it all worth it is that the course itself is free! :-)

On another note: I hope to have a more regularly scheduled blog posting now that I have decided this is going to be in essence my personal journal. Not that I am going to be spilling ALL my secrets. But I will be using it as your window into my writing process - and my life as it were. :-)

So I will be seeing you all around.

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

3 Days of Novel-Writing Insanity

It's almost here. My heart has been going through these periods of leaping about in nervous palpitations; however, I cannot say that is altogether unhealthy for me.

Last year's contest was an intro into a whole new world of writing. And with no safety gear to protect me from the aftermath. Moreover, I find that it was one of the best things to ever happen to me!

Life is a beautiful, chaotic, crazy, amazing mess when lived to as full a potential as is humanly possible. With God at the center?

I am pretty certain Life cannot get any better than this! :)

You know it's interesting to note that in times of spiritual high, sometimes it's also a time of great testing. Job was one of the most faithful, righteous men on earth and yet during his massive soul-searching journey, he also went through massive physical and Spiritual soul-surgery.

I have been feeling the pain of soul-surgery as God teaches me surrender at the highest levels. Yet He is gentle - SO gentle in his chastisement and unfailing love. Have you read Job lately? God's questioning of the man at the end definitely seems to have a bit of a sarcastically humorous twist to it. Though He tells Job to "Man up and shut his mouth", God could definitely have taught him in a harsh and punishing way if He so desired.

So this year's contest is not only going to stretch me physically, but I am really hoping - and praying - for a stretching of my spiritual senses. As is my experience with prayer in the past, I realize that I am praying for something that could very easily test me in ways I did not expect or even necessarily want. However, I have also come to learn that praying intentionally for God to do His work in me is never something I should fear.

In fact, it has always been a lesson that is only fully experienced and understood when I embrace it with everything that I am...

See? I told you I was learning about surrender. :-D

Monday, August 29, 2011

Writing with Purpose

Hey all my fine people!

Today, I would like to take the time to discuss purpose-driven writing.

If you are at all like me, writing is my passion. I write because I want to. In school, the worst assignments were the research papers. Not only could I not stand writing pre-assigned papers, but the grading system was usually based on the professor's own biases. If I failed to meet their standards, my paper fell flat. Fortunately, I learned early on how to BS my way through it - using exceptional vocabulary and a lot of fluff. (To any of my professors, I am so sorry for making you read that junk.) I sounded like I knew what I was talking about.

I could not tell you one word of the papers I wrote in college - they were burned quite ceremoniously when my State Boards result came back with FLYING colors. Apparently all I really learned about college writing is that you can bluff magnificently and still manage to take a completely unrelated test with little or no difficulty.

Now if only that bluffing business worked in a game of Texas Hold'em...my poker face is non-existent.

Back to my purpose for writing about purpose-driven writing...

I want everything I do to glorify God. Even if His name isn't actually in a 200 page manuscript I have penned, I want His influence to be indelibly seared into the inked pages. So I have decided that this year's 3 Day Novel contest will be my first true attempt at melding two of my Passions into one artistic, frenzied, INSANE weekend.

God and writing! What could be better?

Okay...not counting my kids and my wonderfully supportive husband who puts up with my madness. Or my social media communications manager... Or my mom who will most likely be babysitting for this event... Or...

You get the picture.

I have priorities of course. I am a wife and mother. I am a daughter, a sister, a friend. These are all hats that I am proud to wear. And they all change and influence my life in some way, shape, or form.

To write though...that's more than just a hat I wear. It's a talent that was given exclusively to me. Not to my husband (though he does write on occasion and it's good reading material). Not to my kids - they haven't even really learned their letters yet.

It is my gift - this passion for the written word. And I intend to USE it. For pleasure, for encouragement, for entertainment, for wisdom, and as a labor of love. If I am completely honest; yes, I would love to see my name in Lights as well.

Most of all, I want to write for Purpose. :-)

Okay, so now that I got that introduction out of the way. The weekend of Labor Day - September 3-5, 2011 - get ready to join me on my purpose-driven journey!

The Hannah Center is all about taking care of women in crises. James 1:27 (Message) says this:
Anyone who sets himself up as "religious" by talking a good game is self-deceived. This kind of religion is hot air and only hot air. Real religion, the kind that passes muster before God the Father, is this: Reach out to the homeless and loveless in their plight, and guard against corruption from the godless world.
 The Hannah Center does this well. Looking after those in need both spiritually and physically. I want to support that effort!

So I will be using my writing weekend frenzy as a platform with which to spread the word! I would love it if you joined me in this... Hannah Center Fundraiser! Just follow the link and it will take you to my Crowd Rise personal projects page. There you can make a donation of $10 or more to a ministry that truly shows the love of God to those who most need to see it! Just $15 can buy a canister of formula to feed a hungry baby. The Hannah Center uses volunteers and funds to offer room, board, transportation, clothing, baby necessities, and much more to women and children in the surrounding communities.

Don't hesitate! Life is precious and it is also brief...giving is a blessing that receives as much as it blesses others.

I know in these times of economic hardships, it is frightening and stressful to think of giving when your needs are so important! God sees this and He knows your needs. Even the smallest bit helps.

Thank you! I will be enjoy updating you all on the progress of my writing weekend AND the progress of my fundraising goals! :-)

God bless...

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Busyness

Time...24 hours in a day. 7 days a week, 52 weeks in a year. 365 (366 on leap) days in a year. And the human only lives to be about 90 years old - give or take a few...

Time management...is a lot harder than it looks. Sure those pretty, color-coded calendars and the PDAs and the schedule notifications are all well and good. It kind of helps to look at them though. I find myself so busy sometimes that I completely ignore the schedule in favor of keeping my head above water.


Time wasting...some days this is me. I call it breaking from the chaos and busyness. Most people would call it lazy. :) And yes, that is definitely a weakness of mine. I am great at "being" - not so great at "doing" unless it's something I am incredibly passionate about. I'm sorry, but there is nothing passionate about scrubbing a kitchen floor; especially when there is a two year old dropping the remnants of lunch, dried Play-Doh, and stickers (do you have any idea what a pain it is to get a sticker off of a hardwood floor?)


Point being...I like chaos and disorder. It's safe and easy and comfortable. Organization scares me and to be honest it's just intimidating and difficult to stick to.


That's why it's called a discipline. Something I need more of in my life. Another reason why I am starting this regular blogging, social networking, and writing.


Because someday...my kids are going to love order and structure...I will not allow myself to set them up for failure in this world by teaching them utter chaos. Doesn't work for me; sure as heck won't work for them. :)