Pain, Writing, and Fun Stuff Like That

Dear readers and friends, 

In the craziness that is my life, I've been pretty neglectful of this blog. I think about it and my following here (thank YOU) a lot, and I think about what I could share, but the fact is, my author hat has had to hang on its peg (I really don't have a peg for my hats; it's a metaphor) these last several months. I may or may not have a new book coming out next year, and the idea of that makes me pretty sad and frustrated. But things here at home are demanding and some things have to give.

I'm not referring so much to our new little boy and the adoption, though that is a huge, incredible portion of my life right now. He does take nice long naps most days and I have lots of helpers after school. Will is transitioning really well and thought it's a ton of work, it's worth it. I've raised four of my bio toddlers into nice, somewhat functional grown-up toddlers. I've got this.

No, I'm referring to the demands, the selfish, relentless tyranny of physical pain (dramatic, huh?). Some of you know I fight chronic back pain and have done so for most of my life since a car going 65 mph slammed into my car while it was stopped. I was 22 years old. I missed death by feet. Since then I've ridden a roller coaster of rising and ebbing pain, I've had years of different treatments (please don't suggest any, really, I've had them all), and various diagnosis, and because of the instability in my lower back, have suffered through several disc issues, including bulging, rupture, and now a protrusion in a precarious position. In summary, it hurts.

As I recently told my editor, it's hard to focus on romance when you feel like you're being ripped in half.

And now, after so many years of hearing, "We want to save surgery as a last resort," it's time for a last resort. I meet with the neurosurgeon next week. I'm frightened, but also fine. I don't hope to be cured, but a little relief would be nice. Just enough so I can start writing again. So I can lose myself in a story and a struggle and a happy ending. 

Yes, I've heard lots and lots of back surgery stories, horrific to miraculous. I know. A few weeks ago I made the comparison of what to expect in the outcome of back surgery to playing roulette. I'll be peeking through my fingers and praying. Feel free to join me.

I do have 30,000 words into a new romance. But I already know I have to rewrite it. When I'm in pain my writing dives into a darker place and that's not what I had in mind for this story. I had to let my wonderful editor know I couldn't make my deadline. I'll still be working on the story. I like it and I think it needs a place outside of my head. I'd also like to be working on my fantasy stories. I can dive a little darker in those, and escape a little further. But until I get this newer injury taken care of, it's a struggle to even focus on my own world. That's a pretty important place, too.

I hope you'll stick with me as I crash through this particular hurdle with my usual tenacity and grace. I'd like so much to share my stories. I'd like so much to try to put a little more hope and triumph into the world.

Thank you,

Krista

One. Year. Later.

HEY REMEMBER ME?

I used to post on here fairly regularly and share all kinds of writerly stuff. The last time I posted I was sharing all the wonder of releasing  THREE books in one month! That was pretty sweet and I remember it fondly.

But life is funny and when lots of big things happen, priorities have a way of slamming themselves in order, and sadly, this little blog took bottom rung, patiently waiting for me to, well, remember it existed as we traversed life's wrecking balls and celebrations. Our family has been reminded that stumbling blocks can become stepping stones, and our journey here moves forward in surprising, exhausting, wondrous ways, whether we want it to or not.

That sounds way more cinematic than I intended. If you'd like to catch up with what we've been up to lately, visit the kickyloo&co blog. It's a little crazy over there.

And now, what do you know, I'm back here. Which has made me consider what I want to use this blog for. In the past, I've shared things I've learned about the writing process and industry. I've shared all of the news about my books and their releases, and I've conducted contests for those occasions. I've interviewed other authors and I've had regular post series (Tuesday Edit Crunch, anyone?).

But blogging has changed a bit in the last couple of years. I know I still visit blogs if I'm researching a specific topic or following an interesting link. But I remember the days of blog lists and weekly visits to my favorites. Ah, the sweet bygone days of where-did-I-find-the-time-to-do-that.

Honestly, my favorite posts were the shared writing tips, thoughts on writing, and the news about my own books. So maybe if I just focus on those things, I'll be more apt to hop over here and post. Simple. I'll still conduct giveaways and such for my book releases, etc, but I'll do that from Facebook. I've been posting from my FB Author page for most of that news. If you'd like to keep up-to-date on how things are going, like my page HERE. It's not too in-your-face, and pretty laid-back. Promise.

EXCEPT WHEN A NEW COVER COMES OUT FOR MY NEXT BOOK!

So go on over there and see what my next book, KISSES IN THE RAIN, looks like! There is also a sneak-peak at the back cover! And a contest! Yup, a chance to win a signed copy of KISSES. It comes out in JUNE. THAT'S CLOSE.

See? I may have been absent from this blog, but I was working hard. I love this job. And I hope you love this new book.

Grand-babies, Book Babies, Oh Baby!

First of all, THIS:

This is Carly Lynne, and she loves me. As much as I didn't think I'd be a grandma this soon in life, being a grandma is THE BEST. Her mom and dad are doing GREAT and she is in good hands. I wish I lived down the street. She is precious and sweet. Those are my jammie pants.

And now, some more happy happy news! I just turned in the final proofs for two projects!

Last week I turned in the novella, HANGING BY A MOMENT, for a romance anthology called WITH ALL MY HEART. The next place I see it will be in a box at my front door! I hope to post a cover for that soon. Need a tropical escape? Hanging By a Moment whisks you away to the British Virgin Islands and throws in some undeniable competition and chemistry in the sun.

The second project, my next novel, FALLING FOR YOU, was just turned in this afternoon! I'm so pleased with how it turned out! This story is funny, touching, and romantic. I love Elizabeth and Ryan. I love Jackson, Wyoming, in the Fall. Elizabeth was a snobby, flirty woman of the world who came to her sister's rescue in THE ORCHARD. But she was also alone. I just couldn't leave her like that . . . but I couldn't make it easy on her, either.

But I can give YOU something! I give you the shiny, brand new cover for my next novel, FALLING FOR YOU.

Isn't it beautiful? And perfect? It is, trust me. And because it's so great, I'm holding a contest.

 The Falling For You Cover-Love Contest!

Simply share this cover and the release date (FEBRUARY 2014) on Facebook, Twitter, your blog, your book review site, your sweetie's car window, anywhere it can be shared with others! Throw those hints around for Valentine's Day! Let me know how you shared and you will be entered into a drawing to win a signed copy of FALLING FOR YOU of your very own, or to give to your Valentine! The more you share, the more entries you will have. Even if you share again the next day! Or the next!

You have until Wednesday, December 18th, midnight, to spread the cheer. How easy is that?

Need a blurb?

Elizabeth Embry has traveled the world, been there, done that, lived a life of glamour... and fear. When an old colleague offers her a new career opportunity in the sleepy ski town of Jackson Hole, Wyoming, she feels an excitement she barely understands.

The two-week trial period is anything but the private getaway she hopes for. Elizabeth finds herself booked in the honeymoon suite of a woodland bed and breakfast, where her hosts greet her like family and her protected private life is as read as the complimentary morning newspaper.

But her friend is scheming and the handsome owner is aloof, drawing Elizabeth into a place she never thought she wanted to be. A place she knows she doesn't deserve.

Ryan Brennan is alone, raising his children, running the inn, keeping up walls to protect himself from betraying the promise he made his wife, even five years after her death. He does not welcome Nancy Colette's matchmaking, nor can he get the guarded Elizabeth Embry out of his head. But as events keep throwing Elizabeth in his path, he catches glimpses of who she really is and finds himself wanting to know more.

As two individuals struggle to find if there is more to living than their past, the people around them conspire to bring them together... to bring them home.

Now, go! Share, my lovelies!

Thoughts of Children

I love children. Easy. Making a child smile is one of my favorite things, and that has always come pretty easy, too.

I've learned through some recent counseling that because of the long and frequent absences of my husband and my shy nature in social circles, I poured my love and friendship into my kids, and they reciprocated. When they were smaller and more dependent upon me, the more-present adult in their lives, I was their confidant and they were mine. We shared our joys and tears and secrets and dreams and I taught and they listened and taught me back. They still do. I depended on them to fill a void, as I filled their minds and hearts and hopefully, fed their spirits.

I know I'm not the only parent who experiences this.

So I know that some of those parents in Newtown, Connecticut, didn't lose children. They lost best friends, they lost companions, they lost future hopes, secret-keepers, inside jokes, special handshakes, friends they knew inside and out. Their favorite people in the whole wide world.

I do believe they will see their children again, that their sons and daughters are in good, loving hands. But there is still loss of something so beautiful, so exquisite.

And that's why I mourn with those parents.

Today is my daughter's birthday. She would have been 16, had all gone as I'd hoped. It doesn't hurt so much. But I don't love her any less.

Heyyy a Blog Post...

Have you ever wondered how things would be if you'd chosen differently? Of course you have. Happy or sad, we wonder, "How would it have been?" One choice. One reaction. A turn left when a turn right was also before us.
I've been wondering about this a bit. How have my choices affected who I am today, and how would they have been different if I'd chosen differently? I like who I am today. I like me. But I'm very different from the woman I was twenty years ago, seven years ago, even four years ago. But I liked her, too.
Four years ago I began writing seriously. Twenty years after college and I found myself.

Late. Bloomer.

What if I'd found myself earlier? What if I'd had the support at home to go after a far-fetched dream? What about all those struggles, defeats, climbs, triumphs, disappointments between then and now? How would I have been molded to be who I need to be?

And I need to be.

So I guess it doesn't matter. What matters is moving forward. Learning, growing, knowing that giving up is not an option because a writer is what I need to be.

I always wondered, seeing people, friends around me knowing what they were to do, and I wondered, next to being a mother, when would I know what I was to do? Why didn't I know?

I'm so grateful. It's been four years. I can't imagine not doing this.

News: My next book, THE ORCHARD, is slated to come out March/April 2013. This is the FIRST one accepted by Covenant Comm, but will be my SECOND release. I'm so excited to see it again. I've missed it!

I just finished the first draft of the YA fantasy I've been working on titled SILK. It's out to alpha readers right now, so my stomach is a bit knotty. I look forward to the feedback, though, to make it better. I had so much fun and hair-pulling and hand-wringing and shouts of exclamation getting it down. I can't believe it's all down. I hope it's good. Even a little.

I also started a new on-line critique group with some other writers and I'm very excited about it! WordPlay is Becca Wilhite, Abel Keogh, Melanie Bennet Jacobson, Julie Wright, Kate Palmer, me, and sometimes, Marion Jensen. I feel very fortunate to have found these people needing exactly the same thing I did!

OF GRACE AND CHOCOLATE is still selling well for being out for almost a year. I love this little book! I still love seeing the cover. I still love hearing that readers love it and shared it and are still wanting me to sign it. I love the emails that come in thanking me for writing it. I have received several emails from readers who could relate to having a loved one with an addiction problem. It means a lot to me when they say, yes, that's how it feels. So go, little book. Go, Jill and Scott and Shiloh.

My daughter's wedding was beautiful and she and her new husband are settled and starting school. The other kids are back in school, as is my husband. The ruptured disc in my back is healing and though I still can't lift much of anything, I can do most things with much less pain and I'm thankful every day.

The writing comes in longer stretches now.

So I love that.

Explore

I won't have time to blog for the rest of this week, but I will be back on Monday with a whole new mess to discuss. In the meantime, please feel free to explore past posts, starting with those recommended below, and leave a comment. I love getting to know you better!

Enjoy your week!

Monday Mess: Drawing Characters from Real Life

My friend Don inspired this post today, so you might want to go read about his plight over at Donald J.Carey. It's brief and a little funny, but it is something I've wondered about in imagining the upcoming release of my first novel, The Orchard. How many friends or relatives will think I've written them into a book?

I'm sure many writers will agree that characters sort of come to life on their own. Sure, we can give them a career, tell them what school they went to and how many brothers and sisters they have, but while writing them, or sometimes, scribing for them, their unique personalities develop as the hero, the love interest, the villain, the best friend, the counselor.

It usually isn't until after I've written characters interacting a good deal, that I go back and write character journals of each one. Then it's fun to enhance those interactions with some of the things I've discovered about each one. It's like getting to know somebody. You can be acquainted, know a little background, and listen to what they have to say. But then after spending some time with that person, you can attach more meaning to their words, and understand their actions and views better. Or in an author's case, you can write them better, deeper.

However, having said this, of course writers draw from influences around them. I'll share a few easy examples where my characters have been influenced by real people in my life:

In The Orchard, the hero, Derick, has an older sister. A lot of my mom went into her character, her energy, her desire to make sure everyone is comfortable. Even some of her coloring is influenced by my mom. My mom is thrilled. Especially since the character is younger.

In the same book, Ben's character is a combination of my dad (sweet and quiet) and my sister's old boyfriend (mannerisms). I didn't choose it that way, I just recognized the influences of those people in my life as I pictured Ben stepping out onto the front porch the first time and meeting the visitors to his ranch. Often, when I recognize attributes in my characters as those of people I know, it's a relief to be able to picture them as I write. I'm a visual writer and picture the story unfolding as a movie, and I'm just writing down what I see and hear. So it's wonderful to have a clear image of my characters.

In The Inn, the hero's son, Sam, is a combination of my two sons (but not in looks), and his youngest daughter, Lily, is my youngest, all the way. His oldest daughter, Chloe, talks as my oldest daughter would. Probably because my kids are such a presence in my hour-to-hour life that I couldn't escape their influence if I tried. In The Lake, Chloe's best friend was very much influenced by what I thought my 10 year old niece might be like in college.

But, and this is a big BUT (go ahead, giggle), though these characters have been influenced in some way by real people, their stories, their choices, their parts in the plot ARE NOT REAL. They play roles in bringing a story to life. So although Derick's sister resembles my mom, my mom is not married to a farmer-turned college professor, nor was she unable to have children. Ben is quiet and shy like my dad, but runs a ranch. My dad is a computer engineer, and doesn't care for horseback riding.

The protagonist in Grace & Chocolate is called Jill, after my cousin. But Jill my cousin is nothing like Jill in the book. At all. Actually, I've used a lot of my cousins' names in my books. But only because I love the names, and they were great for the characters. Assuming that I must be writing about my cousins would be like assuming I'm naming a baby after someone because I expect the baby to be just like that person.

So while poor Don is fielding questions about his characters, I will continue to write my new novel, which is set on Camano Island in the Puget Sound of Washington state, where the main character goes to stay with her 2 aunts, and I will continue to wonder what people will think, who know that I actually have 2 aunts who live together . . . on Camano Island.

And just for fun, I'll post some pictures I've found of some of my characters. It's so great to happen upon a face that makes you cry out, 'It's _____!" It's also a little insane. Oh well. Such is the life of a novelist.

Young Derick Whitney- THE ORCHARD

Young Alisen Embry-THE ORCHARD

Scott Gentry-GRACE & CHOCOLATE

Jillian Parish-GRACE & CHOCOLATE

Justin Michaels-THE LAKE

Chloe Brennan-THE INN, THE LAKE

*Just a note: I usually find a picture well after a character is established. It's not always spot on to what I see in my head, but it can come surprisingly close!

Next Monday Mess: Drawing Events from Real Life

Gazing at the Window Display

Well, it's happening again. It seems like whenever I post about being brave and pushing past the pain and seeing beyond the little stumbling blocks in the road, the universe in all it's wisdom says, "Oh, yeah, Krista? You think you've got a handle on it? Well, let's just see about that..."

I talked to my editor last week. There have been some scheduling changes.
Now, whenever someone asks me when my book will be hitting the shelves, instead of answering excitedly, "Spring of 2011!", my answer will now be a slightly tempered but still hopeful, "I'm not sure, possibly 2012..."

I am reminded of a scene from one of my favorite movies, You've Got Mail. Kathleen has just accepted that her book shop must close.

Kathleen Kelly: Oh, Birdie, what am I going to do? What would Mom have done?
Birdie Conrad: Well, let's ask her.
[Birdie opens her locket, revealing a picture of Cecilia Kelly]
Birdie Conrad: Cecilia, what should we do?
[holds the locket to her ear]
Kathleen Kelly: Birdie...
Birdie Conrad: Shhh! She has no idea. But she thinks the window display looks lovely.

In the meantime, I am working on two other manuscripts and will submit them. I may be down, but I am certainly not out. Covenant has accepted two of my books and I'm giving them more to chew on. I won't be closing the book shop.

I'll just be wincing a little every time someone asks me, "When can I buy your book?"

What's Your Pain Threshold?

 Criticism is something we can avoid simply by saying nothing, doing nothing, and being nothing. ~Aristotle

I was doing a little blog-hopping-- only a little because I've spent every ounce of energy I have and my bed is calling me... "Kristaaaaaa, Kristaaaaaa, I'm warm and deep with three inches of memory foam softnessssss..."
*sigh*
What was I doing? Oh yeah, the blog.

I saw the wonderful ladies at Writing on the Wall had a new post here. Julie Wright shared her thoughts on the pain of critique and bearing it better if we took some pain meds beforehand, or, actually, maybe we would submit more if we knew it wouldn't hurt so much. It's a sweet boost, so go read it. But come back here.

Because I was thinking about pain and what it can do. Paralyze us? Make us grit our teeth and bear it?

About 16 1/2 years ago a car going 65 mph hit my stopped car from behind. Didn't see us at all. Mine and my baby's survival was a miracle. Because of her car seat, my little girl was frightened, but perfect. I walked away, however, with severe muscle tissue damage in my lower back. I'm in some level of pain every hour of every day. People compliment me on my excellent posture. The truth is, if I slouch, the pain meter spikes quickly. I try to avoid that.

It's like walking around with a knife stuck in my back. When it gets worse, someone is twisting the knife. Every hour of every day. I fought depression. I won.

Then a few years later, my marriage nearly fell apart.

We sucked it up. We made it through. We fell in love again.

And then we lost a child. 

It's a risk, as writers, putting ourselves out there. It could hurt. It could help. Use what's given, find what works, make the changes, meet halfway, follow your gut, scrap the rest.

I keep submitting, because critiques and rejections are tough, but I know some things hurt more.

I can handle it. So can you.

Time, Time, Time, See What's Become of Me

So many pots on the fire.









My very good friend Andy, an immigration lawyer in Florida (yeah, he's not busy right now) asked me how I find time to write. How did I write a novel, and then another and...?

Time. I steal it. I manipulate it. I grab it, use it, shake it if my eyes are closing because I've kept promises, appointments, laundry going, kids from killing each other, floors swept, bathrooms clean, the pantry full, meals cooked, the dog walked, friends' books read, phone calls returned, church meetings, obligations, date night with a husband I know I have around here somewhere...

And sometimes time gets away from me and I run to catch up, or scrap it and pick up where I can, apologizing along the way.

But,

I'm fortunate to have all my kids in school full time. I'm very fortunate to be home during the day. It's quiet when school is in, or I'm not babysitting the Wondertwins or J-man. And they have naptime.

My oldest son says I could block out an earthquake if I'm writing. If I'm "in the zone". I'm not sure it's a compliment.

"Mom... MOM. I need a haircut. Mom. Okay, so I accidentally spilled my nachos on the couch and they were covered in salsa... and then this bird flew into the house and landed on my head because it mistook it for a NEST. MOM!"

*type type* "What?"

"I need a haircut."

*type type* "You spilled nachos on your head?"

*deep sigh*

My children have been very patient. Some more than others.

What I've learned is, if you don't dig out the time to write (or fish or run or learn that thing you've always wanted to learn), time WILL GO ON. Every space, every crack will fill; time you think you don't have.

It's funny, though, after you've wrenched it away for yourself? Things just sort of... make room.

Sometimes you do lose sleep. But if I could, right now, I'd choose writing over sleep. If it were possible, I'd write in the quiet all night long.

True story.

Time to put the kids to bed.

And find that man of mine.

Weaving time in a tapestry... won't you stop and remember me...

Glow

"The glory of friendship is not the outstretched hand, nor the kindly smile, nor the joy of companionship; it is the spiritual inspiration that comes to one when he discovers that someone else believes in him and is willing to trust him."

Ralph Waldo Emerson

This quote is stuck to the board above my desk with a thumbtack. I don't even know where I got it. But every time I glance up and read it, I am struck by its truth. When I think of my friends, the really true friends, and the kind of friend I wish to be, boiling it all down to its concentrated base, this is what I find.

There is something of the spirit, something instilled in us that ignites when someone believes in us, when someone is willing to trust us.

And it is so fragile.

A writer can't afford to be fragile. When we choose who will read and critique our drafts, we are trusting. When I attach a document in an email and press send, I don't wish for up and down praise and glorious exclamations (okay, a few), but I do wish for help. I do wish for direction.

I don't wish to be placed on a pedestal. Or torn down from one.

I wish to be believed in.

Even when I suck.

I think I can speak for most writers.

Thank you, to all my friends.

You help me glow. I'll try to do the same.

Okay, 40, You're Up. Let's See What You've Got

The act of putting pen to paper encourages pause for thought, this in turn makes us think more deeply about life, which helps us regain our equilibrium.  ~Norbet Platt

 As promised, for my 40-eth birthday, I have composed a bucket list. Some of you may have noticed I am greeting the idea of having a 4 at the beginning of my age number with a bit of trouble. Not too much, but more than I expected. I don't feel 40. As a matter of fact, I wish I could go back and do my 20's again feeling the way I do now. Kind of. Some of you may know what I mean.
As I began this undertaking, I was a little down, and I had 5 things listed. And I was stuck. Really? FIVE things before I kick the bucket?
So, I reviewed my list of things I'd done during my 30's. Then I thought of a few more.

• Hiked through a rain forest
• White water rafted near and far
• Toured a cloud forest canopy on a zipline hike
• Swam with sharks
• Climbed Chichen Itza
• Explored Palenque
• Swam in a cenote
• Became a dog owner
• Climbed Heart Mountain

And I started to kick into gear, because there are a lot of cool things I haven't done yet, and I started to remember faded dreams and little goals, and if I feel like I could do my 20's over again, can't I put some of that energy and confidence into accomplishing a few of these things? Wouldn't that be SO much more beneficial then just wishing? All of a sudden, my 40's don't seem so forty-ish. They just seem... next.

My Bucket List

• Visit Ireland, Wales, and the island of Anglesey, which is my maiden name
• Learn conversational Spanish
• Build a house (or rather, have someone build a house I helped design, for me)
• Have 10+ novels published
• Visit Machu Picchu
• Write something non-LDS
• Keep my back as strong as possible 
• Get my personal story in book form
• Be a better swimmer
• Learn to fly fish
• Play piano more often (I'm not great, but I could be better)
• Take a latin/ballroom dance class
• Own a jet ski
• Go on a cruise
• Visit Israel
• Rent a catamaran and sail the British Virgin islands
• Grow a beautiful cottage garden
• See all of Cary Grant's, Kathryn Hepburn, and Audrey Hepburn's movies (for my feelings about Cary Grant, read here)
• Get a college degree (I'm this close)
• Eat in Italy
• Participate in NANOWRIMO
• Achieve HARD level on Rock Band drums
• Take photography classes
• Create a home with a comfortable, welcoming, joyous atmosphere
• Be a temple worker
• Learn some Tai chi
• Ride a bicycle built for two

What do you think?

Thirty-seven, Thirty-eight, Thirty-nine...

With an upcoming birthday of a moderately astronomical number I never really expected to find attached to my name, I've been considering writing a bucket list. But another list kept pushing itself to the forefront. So, before I make a list of things I want to do before my time is up, I've made a list of things I did in my thirties, in no particular order. It was a fun decade for me, and I'll miss it.

1) Stepped into an airplane and flew for the very first time (Nebraska was my eventful destination)
2) Ran my own home business for 4 years
3) Smiled for my first passport
4) Used said passport to go to Costa Rica, my first time in a country NOT touching the USA
5) Dreamed in Spanish
6) Tiled a kitchen backsplash all by myself
7) Swore never to do that again
8) Built a picnic table
9) Gave birth to our youngest child
10) Potty-trained the third child
11) Moved twice
12) Discovered, then forgot about Tae Bo
13) Went to Mexico three times
14) Potty-trained the youngest child
15) Joined a book club
16) Read many, many books after youngest child turned three (and that's a magic number)
17) Joined a writing club
18) Wrote a memoir for my posterity
19) Canned about 400 quarts of peaches, pears, and applesauce
20) Taught the oldest child to sew, cook, and drive
21) Found my first gray hairs
22) Home-schooled 2nd child one semester
23) Taught Freshman Algebra. Which I loathe.
24) Was complimented by 2nd child's Geometry teacher on child's knowledge of freshman Algebra
25) Started a book club
26) Taught classes on canning, gardening, sewing, scrapbooking, rubber-stamping, religion, roasting meat, making pies, chocolates, and lip balm
27) Started a cookbook blog with my best recipes
28) Started a family blog
29) Learned to cook with Elk and Antelope
30) Learned to filet a fish
31) Wrote a novel
32) Wrote five more
33) Started this blog
34) Went to a Bon Jovi Concert, Wicked, and various band, choir, and piano recitals and concerts
35) Won a short story contest
36) Submitted three novels
37) Connected with a bunch of old friends and made a ton of new friends
38) Made it to nineteen years of marriage and counting

And...
39) Had two of my novels accepted by Covenant Communications

Goodbye, thirties. You were good to me. Forties, I have another week; enough time to work on that bucket list. It's going to be a doozy, because I've seen what dreams can do.

Thursday Authorial: Beach Reading

It happens every time. We come to the beach and I run and jump and chase the aerobie or the foxtail or the kids. I throw the horseshoes and play ladder ball. I get out my stunt kite and go at it with the wind. I've been doing it every few years since I was a kid.
But I'm not 17, or 25 anymore. I'm not 30. In fact, I'm hanging on to 39 for dear life because in a few weeks I'll have to let that go, too.
So, I attack the sand and play like I always have, which is why I am now laying here on my bed waiting for the Aleve to kick in, hoping my back doesn't seize up so much that I can't enjoy going out to eat at the River House tonight. It's why, as soon as the meds kick in, I'm grabbing a book and heading back down to the beach. I will lie down and read and let my aging body attempt a recovery from the pounding I just gave it. What did I bring to read?

The Death and Life of Charlie St. Cloud, by Ben Sherwood
English Trifle, by Josi Kilpack
The Rescue, by Nicholas Sparks, though I have sworn off reading any more of his books. A friend gave it to me just before I left, so here it is in my bag.

My daughter brought The Forest of Hands and Teeth, by Carrie Ryan.
Son#1 is reading Elantris, by Brandon Sanderson.
Son #2 is reading Eldest, by Christopher Paolini
But right now they are throwing their young bodies around on the beach.

Now, where are my sunglasses?

Tuesday Testimonial: Down Time

  When once the itch of literature comes over a man, nothing can cure it but the scratching of a pen.  But if you have not a pen, I suppose you must scratch any way you can.  ~Samuel Lover, Handy Andy, 1842

I will not be unplugging for a week. I won't. I may or may not have access to the internet, but if I do sometime during vacation, you can bet I will be updating, uploading, Twittering, Facebooking, and, oh yeah, checking my email. Occasionally. A few times.
I don't play Farmville or Cafe Town or Underwater Rainbow Treasure Hunter. I'd rather write or socially interact. Or listen to Writing Excuses.
So, Tuesday Testimonial and Thursday Authorial will be short and sweet this week. I'm packing my laptop. If the internet must elude me, then I will edit, revise, write. In-between all the other fun stuff. It's a long drive. I won't mind. If you pass us on the freeway, I might have my laptop open, I might or might not be in discussion with my husband, I might or might not be tapping away on the keys.

It's how I scratch.

Have a great week! Hope you take care of that itch.

Talking, Because of Writing.

Writing is both mask and unveiling.  ~E.B. White

I met with a famous author the other day for lunch and the exchanging of ideas. Okay, it was Robison Wells. I was nervous. Though others had been invited, word was that a breakout of childhood diseases and birthday parties prevented their attendance. Crashers threatened, but never showed. (And I'd had a chance to meet with the lovely Annette Lyon the week before so I was already grateful for that, but Mr. Wells can be a bit... misanthropic. That's his word, not mine. I had to look it up.) So, it was me, my son, and Rob. Or is that Rob, my son, and I? Annette?
Anyhow...
I was excited about this chance to meet a Twitter friend/author and talk writing, and nervous because I shy away from talking. I'm a listener. When I talk with people I don't know well, I say things like this:

"I monely try to... I mean, I maistly try... No, MONELY... MAISTLY... ugh, I MAINLY try to (what was I talking about?)..." *meanwhile my son is shaking his head in his hand and Rob is thinking he could have pretended to think we were meeting at the other El Chihuahua in Salt Lake City*

But aside from my verbal congestion, it was an awesome lunch and I learned some things and Rob was very cool and gracious and told me I was funny. YAY!

So, as I said before, I would rather listen in unfamiliar groups, but I've noticed I'm growing out of that just a little. And I think it's the writing.
Of course, if the subject is writing, that makes it so much easier. I don't think my conversation with Rob was a disaster. It was fun. He asked me lots of questions and I managed to remember a few I had for him, and my son was drawn in as well.
But my husband and I went to a retirement party yesterday and I knew three people. The host and his wife, and the high school English teacher who works at my husband's school (it's not like he owns the school, he's just the principal). I was introduced to other people who apparently had no issues about talking to strangers.
And I joined in. Tolkien. Camping. New York eateries. Christianity. Hometown growth. Gardening. Oregon.
And is it bad I found myself looking for story ideas? And asking questions because I wanted to know more, I was curious and voiced it? Because I'm a writer? I was talking and my husband kept giving me strange looks that said, "Why are you talking so much? These are practically strangers." (He tends to do just fine in a crowd.) Of course, there were a few monely/maistly moments, but I left the party with a smile, and not because we were leaving.

Is this what growing up feels like?

Tuesday Testimonial: In Need of a Wand

It's not too late for Tuesday Testimonial, is it? I've been home a few hours now from a very fast trip to Salt Lake City and back and I'm about to collapse with a book (I haven't decided which one yet) before I fall asleep with it on my lap. We just went over the calendar for the rest of the month and it is FULL. Every day.
I guess that's a good thing, though some of the things aren't what we want to do, but what we have to do, and there may be as much time getting someone somewhere as there is being in that place. But I'm one of those people who needs to try and make the getting there enjoyable, so I'll just have to plan for that.
I guess I'm tired, and I'm wishing for some time to do this:

Let me walk through the fields of paper
touching with my wand
dry stems and stunted butterflies.... 

~Denise Levertov

That will take some planning, too.

And I think this wand.

Writing is a sort of magic, is it not?

I Like Crossing Things Out

In lieu of Thursday Authorial, and because it's Friday (when did that happen?) I am re-posting my frazzling May to-do list, with the appropriate markings. Just because it makes me feel better to see stuff crossed off.

1) Regional and State track meet for daughter #1. Husband went with her to Casper, her relay team took 3rd. Yay!
2) Piano Recital for Son #1.He performed his piece very well. Yay!
3) Baseball for son #2. This goes through July.
4) Band Concert for son #2.He looked great in his tux and his 2-person trumpet section rocked. Yay!
5) Spring Dance recital and Don Quixote Performance for daughter #2.Very fun, very lovely little dancer.
6) Having to meet with dance teacher to tell her daughter #2 no longer wants to dance. I will cry.
7) Babysitting all week. Baby loves puppy. Puppy doesn't love baby. UPDATE: Puppy+Baby=Trulove4ever; Puppy+Baby+3&4 year-olds I watch today=Chaotic Loud Mayhem
8) Chaperon field trip for son #2. Why, oh why...
9) Son #1 diagnosed with Pectus carinatum. Yeah, that's still happening.
10) Expensive operation to correct above will most likely be billed under "cosmetic". Insurance coverage looks bleak. We're going to Primary Children's for evaluation.
11) I will not allow Pc to turn my son into a quivering mass of adolescent fear and self-doubt.
12) I realize there are worse things, but I would have crumpled into a quivering mass of adolescent fear and self-doubt if I were diagnosed with Pc at the age of 14.
13) Just learned same son, the "gifted" child, lied about a term paper. Because he didn't see the point in doing it. A TERM paper. LIED. To me. To his teacher. To his dad.
14) He meets with the assistant principal today.
15) Have I mentioned his dad is the assistant principal?
16) And his bishop? Yeah, I have a slave for the entire summer, and he is SO unplugged.
17) Daughter #2's baptism and family coming. (I know, it's a wonderful thing!)
18) GARDENING (I love it, but WHEN?)
19) Tackling revisions of THE INN. Almost done. ALMOST. I can TASTE it.
20) Son #2 and husband's birthday. Plan: Daytrip to Yellowstone, awesome picnic. There will be cake. Perhaps a movie when we get back. 

That felt good. Thanks! Next week I'll be on top of things here, with a great Edit Crunch and a new author to interview!

May... Work It.

1) Regional and State track meet for daughter #1.
2) Piano Recital for Son #1.
3) Baseball for son #2.
4) Band Concert for son #2.
5) Spring Dance recital and Don Quixote Performance for daughter #2.
6) Having to meet with dance teacher to tell her daughter #2 no longer wants to dance. I will cry.
7) Babysitting all week. Baby loves puppy. Puppy doesn't love baby. Jealous much?
8) Chaperon field trip for son #2. Why, oh why...
9) Son #1 diagnosed with Pectus carinatum.
10) Expensive operation to correct above will most likely be billed under "cosmetic". Insurance coverage looks bleak.
11) I will not allow Pc to turn my son into a quivering mass of adolescent fear and self-doubt.
12) I realize there are worse things, but I would have crumpled into a quivering mass of adolescent fear and self-doubt if I were diagnosed with Pc at the age of 14.
13) Just learned same son, the "gifted" child, lied about a term paper. Because he didn't see the point in doing it. A TERM paper. LIED. To me. To his teacher. To his dad.
14) He meets with the assistant principal today.
15) Have I mentioned his dad is the assistant principal?
16) And his bishop?
17) Daughter #2's baptism and family coming. (I know, it's a wonderful thing!)
18) GARDENING (I love it, but WHEN?)
And last but not least...
19) Tackling revisions of THE INN.

I think it's a good month to channel tension into my scenes. Would you agree?


(Umm, I forgot son #2 and husband's birthdays are next week, and our volleyball championship tournament, which we just won tonight. Vented some tension there, I tell you what.)

There Must Needs Be...

“Never give in, never give in, never; never; never; never – in nothing, great or small, large or petty – never give in except to convictions of honor and good sense.” -Winston Churchill

My mind has been on a lot of things lately, kaleidoscopic. My usual focus has been difficult to find. I know the reasons why and my scattered thoughts are completely founded.
Husband's new job.
New book.
The next book.
Upcoming travel.
New pup.
Older kids.
Younger kids.
Husband's church calling.
My church calling.
Volleyball.
Pain.
Opposition.

It is this last one that has had the most impact on me lately. As a matter of fact, never have I felt opposition so acutely aside the blessings.
But never have my husband or I been on the cusp of having some kind of influence on so many people. I don't say this to boast or put ourselves forward. It is simply truth. Somewhat scary truth. My husband has served as Bishop of our ward for 2.5 years, and has now been hired to serve as Principal of our city's high school. Be assured, whether appreciated or not, his influence will be felt. (I, for one, appreciate his influence... and his uncanny knack for musical trivia.) He was hired by a unanimous, across the board, resounding vote. The support of the community has been heartening as we wonder how this new venture will affect our family. We are excited. We are anxious. We are careful.
And I would be surprised if any new author did not wonder what kind of effect their book will have on its audience. There in the romance, the arc, the setting and twists; woven in like a thin ribbon through a thick braid of hair, is my testimony. I did not set out to do it, but there it is. It cannot be helped. I am, therefore I write. Or something like that. It will be out there for numbers to see.
Opposition presents itself in many forms, many degrees of subtlety, or not. Things come that might discourage, make us forget we are grateful, prevent us from enjoying the fruits of our labors. Things happen that would distract us from moving forward, fulfilling our purpose, or discovering our gifts. Some things leave us standing with our jaws hanging open. Sometimes outrageous, unbelievable, this would be funny if it wasn't really happening kind of things.
I was given a t-shirt. It says, "Careful, or you'll end up in my novel." Man, I am SO tempted.

As my kaleidoscope turns, I remember a few things.

1. The light behind the confusion of shapes and color is one that will always be there; it is one I will always follow.
2. We are not given anything we cannot overcome, but we do not (and should not) have to overcome it alone.
3. We cannot let an aggressive mosquito or two, or a sudden downpour, ruin the entire picnic. It is too beautiful a day, and there are too many other wonders of this life that matter more.

What do you look to, to overcome discouragement in your writing, or otherwise?