Just Wait

I can't believe it's been two years since I've posted. Well, yes I can. A lot has happened since then, sadly not much of it has been writing. I've battled multiple surgeries (me:4, husband:1, daughter:2) and chronic illness, among other things. The toll on my writing groove was high. I say "was" because I'm climbing out of it and will have my groove back in full swing. It feels great. Super great. But it's been a very long time.

I was able to do a few things while in battle. I taught at Storymakers and was asked back again this year. I wrote my first historical romance when I was invited to contribute to this lovely anthology:

Isn't it beautiful? My story is Christmas at Canterwood. All the stories are a treasure.

I truly enjoyed writing this story and have been asked to write another Regency due this summer. More research!

I rewrote and finished a contemporary romance I had shelved (Hold On Forever), and just submitted it to my publisher two weeks ago. I'll learn within a couple of months if they like it or not. Guys, this was HUGE. I honestly questioned whether or not I had it in me anymore. I guess I do. Watch for more news on that.

AND my friend, Suzanne Gale, urged me with all the urging of an accountability partner bestie who thinks she knows what's best for me (and she usually does) to apply for the Writing Excuses Writing Retreat CRUISE scholarship. Putting the packet together alone was good for me. I almost didn't do it. So much bad was happening in life, on top of the physical pain. Nonetheless, Suzy persisted. Writing the personal essay was healing. Gathering the letters of recommendation from friends was assuring. Choosing my writing samples was hard, but it forced me to take a look at words I'd written and remember that I'd done this before, this writing thing, and I was pretty good at it.

If you follow me on IG (kristalynnej), you know the basic, miraculous, I'm-still-in-shock outcome of that application. Here are the mini-story graphics I made to share it.

Hello?! I'm going on a WRITING CRUISE. I'll be saying that a lot between now and September.

I also thought I'd post my Personal Essay here. I'm a little scared to do that, because, hey, it's personal, heh. But it's also my writing. And apparently it's good writing. And this is my writing blog.
So here. With love.

I drowned once. At least, I should have. I was almost three years old and remember it like looking through dimpled glass. Or maybe water.

Our apartment complex had a swimming pool. In Renton, Washington where it rained and rained, we had a swimming pool. The sun did come out, though, and the pool filled with tenants, noisy, joyful. My mom found an open lounge chair and settled herself with a towel and a magazine. I had a cup.

I don’t know if the cup was mine or if I’d found it lying somewhere and had claimed it, but I crouched at the edge of the pool, surrounded by splashing and shouts and laughter, and gripped it with both hands, dipped it in the water, poured it out, dipped it again. Watching water fill and pour in the sunlight.

At the deep end.

A boy came, not much older than I was, ripped the cup from my hands and pushed me in.

I remember the small gasp of air and surprise I took before hitting tepid water and slipping beneath. I remember not struggling. Surely someone saw me. Surely my mom, or the legs kicking around me attached to people, surely someone saw. The boy would tell someone.

But I floated midway between top and bottom, looking. Hoping. Sinking in muted sound and blue.

Fear blossomed—a feeling, a knowledge that being invisible here meant danger, and no one saw me.

A kick. A panic.

Wait, I heard. Just wait.

My eyes were drawn to the shallow end across the pool. A splash of bubbles exploded beneath the surface and emerging from them, a woman with long, dark hair trailing behind her like a mermaid swimming toward me.

I recognized her. She lived on my floor. Her waist-long brown hair was always worn down and shiny, and she smiled at me whenever she saw me in the hall as I hid behind my mom’s legs.

She swam straight for me. Between half-submerged bodies and surface-swimmers across the length of the pool. Straight for me.

Wait. Just wait.

As she neared, I reached my arms out to her. She reached back, folding her own around my body and pushing me up, up, out of the water and to the ledge where hands grabbed me and pulled me and placed me with my mom who squeezed and squeezed and squeezed me.

I don’t remember coughing or choking or crying. Just blinking water from my eyes. The story is I fell asleep within minutes.

I’m asking myself why I’ve shared this memory as part of my essay. It came to mind when you asked, “What makes you unique?” I’ve had other brushes with death. But this memory—this is my first memory. Of life.

Over the past five years my family and I have been hit by wave after wave, breakers of trial pushing us under, and as we swim up, reach the surface, think we can grab a breath, another crashing blow hits and under we go again. And through all of this, I nearly lost my writing. I could not escape physical pain far enough into my imagination, could not write romance when pummeled by pornography and infidelity, could not face making up conflict when so much already filled my reality, could not write happy endings when I wasn’t sure they existed. Injury. Illness. Addiction. Loss. Death. I would stare at my laptop screen. After four published novels, three published novellas, and five more unpublished novels in nine years, my passion was drowning in fear. My words.

Wait, I kept hearing. Just wait.

And one morning only a few weeks ago I woke up, ideas like bubbles rising around me in water. Words came like arms around me, pushing me up and I don’t know what will happen and I still fear the next wave, and I’m still in pain, but my words are coming.

And in considering this memory and what it means to me, and what it means to this essay and this entry and the writing still inside me, maybe it is this:

We are not meant to be invisible here.

Book Academy: Serious Wumpa Fruitage

What an awesome week! True, the Book Academy at UVU was only one day, but how stuffed full of writerly inspiration and good vibeage was it? Did I just make up a new word? The presentations I attended were geared toward writers who have been accepted, and now what? Perfect.

The cool breakfast table: TJ Bronley, Sarah M. Eden, Me, Marion Jensen. Not pictured: Julie Bellon, and Don Carey. Look at us all trying to be cool. What's with the pockets?

 I learned more about what social media can do for me from Marion Jensen, who is so great I may just claim him as the relative everyone assumes he is.

Sarah M. Eden and Marion Jensen. He signed my copy of CHICKENS IN THE HEADLIGHTS. Too. Funny. Sarah has already signed my copy of COURTING MISS LANCASTER, which everyone should read.

 I learned how (and how not) to give a launch party and how it differs from a book signing from Josi S. Kilpack, for whom I have a ton of respect. What can I say, the woman loves to cook.

Josi S. Kilpack, Me, and Annette Lyon. See? I want to be on THIS side of the table. Josi signed DEVIL'S FOOD CAKE and Annette wished me "Happy Chocolate" in her cook book, CHOCOLATE NEVER FAILETH.

After the surprisingly delicious (and huge) lunch, my friends signed all the books I bought and we talked and laughed and I kept picturing myself behind the table signing my books. I didn't get a picture of Heather B. Moore, but meeting her was really great, too!

Me, Sheila Stahley and Shanda Cottam from LDS Women's Book Review, and Don Carey, my buddy for the day. His book, BUMPY LANDINGS, is coming out this December!

Sheila, Josi, Melissa E. Cunningham, Renae Mackley, and Annette

Me and Melissa E. Cunningham. I wish she lived down the street. We would have FUN. Her book, THE EYE OF TANUB, is coming out in 2011!

 During lunch, I met Kathryn Jenkins, the managing editor for Covenant. She handled my submissions until I was assigned my own editor. I gave her a big hug and thanked her for liking my books. She gave me the good news that Covenant liked my revisions of THE INN and has officially accepted it as my second book. It was really good news to hear!
After the lunch break, I learned about book promotion, brand, hooks, and media etiquette from my publicist at Covenant, Kelly Smurthwaite, and the author's pov from Annette Lyon. Sweet.
And then, because the 4th session didn't include any "what now?" options for classes, I chose (as did a good number of attendees) Robison Wells' class on overcoming obstacles to writing. Awesome motivation. I raised my hand a lot and Rob only shut me down once. It was a time thing. That's what he said.

You know, I really like Rob, but he can be such a pill. (I can hear Rob say, "A pill of AWESOME.") Yes, that's true.

After the conference, a bunch of us met at Chili's for dinner. I arrived after being forced onto the freeway going the opposite direction really fast. But I took an exit, started over, and still arrived before anyone else. I don't know how that happened. Utah traffic astounds me.

Authors Traci Hunter Abramson, Julie Wright, and Melissa E. Cunningham. The coolest people to sit across from EVER.

Me and Don.

The waiter kept treating us like a couple because we ordered the same thing. It was funny.

Tristi Pinkston joined us and held someone's cute baby.

Jeff Scott Savage, author of the FAR WORLD series and much more, and his wife, Debbie Lambson (Cranberryfries), and Rob. I was thrilled to overhear Rob telling Jeff about my book, REMNANT!

Sheila and Shanda. What wonderful dinner company!

A sweet couple, Mary and TJ Bronley.

After sleeping VERY HARD, I had the opportunity to meet MY EDITOR, Samantha Van Walraven, for lunch the next day. I picked her brain and hardly let her eat as she answered my questions. My cousin, Jill Hammond, came along and asked questions of her own, which was great because my head was spinning. I learned a lot, and getting to know my editor better was really great.

Later I headed over to BYU, which was a trip because I haven't been there since I was a student. I visited Annette Lyon at her book signing at the BYU Bookstore. I love her hugs! I bought three more cookbooks for Christmas presents and ate some fudge. Uh, hello, CHOCOLATE.

Annette Lyon with her very helpful daughter and her gorgeous cookbooks.

It was an inspiring, invigorating trip and I have so much to work on while I wait on a release date for THE ORCHARD. One of the things I loved the most was finally meeting all my Twitter friends. They've been such a tremendous support to me. I can't wait for my next writing conference. I LOVE BEING AN AUTHOR!

Rain, Drive-Ins, and Rootbeer

I've receive two major awards! Well, maybe not major, but they are lovely, are they not? They come from my blogger friend, Ali Cross. Her site is always thought-provoking, honest, and fun. Thank you, Ali!

The Rules for The Versatile Blogger Award:

1. Thank and link back to the person that gave you the award.
2. Share seven things about yourself.
3. Pass the award to fifteen bloggers that you think deserve it.
4. Lastly, contact all the bloggers that you’ve picked for the award.

One Lovely Blog Award Rules:

1. Accept the award, post it on your blog together with the name of the person who has granted the award and his or her blog link.
2. Pass the award to 15 other blogs that you’ve newly discovered.
3. Remember to contact the bloggers to let them know they have been chosen for this award.

Seven things about myself, in no particular order:
1) I love the sound of rain, crickets, and frogs. Not all at the same time.
2) I love drive-in theaters. I lament their passing and avidly support the one in the next town, American Dreams Drive-In. Sometimes I wish my husband and I could move to the back seat. Like we used to. There are kids in the way.
3) I love rootbeer floats. Particularly A&W rootbeer floats, which we used to get at the A&W on the way to the drive-in when I was little and living in Seattle. Where it rains. And there are frogs. At the lakes.
4) I love lakes. I love the calm, the lack of current, the warmth.
5) I would rather live in the mountains than anywhere else; preferably in a lake house. I don't have one yet. But I am in the mountains. Baby steps. The mountains here in Wyoming are different than the mountains of western Washington. In a good, non-rainy kind of way.
6) I LOVE snow, but seasonally. At Easter time, I want tulips and sunshine. Not snowmen and wind-chill. Like here in the mountains.
7) I'm adaptable.

With that out of the way, it's time to move on to 8 out of the 15 bloggers I have chosen to receive these awards. The other 7 will be mentioned in my next post. Give it up for:

• Margot Hovley at Inklings. Margot is a new Covenant author, like me! Her book, GET REAL, is coming out next summer. Congratulations, Margot! 

• Melissa J. Cunningham at A Writer's Reality. Melissa cracks me up and she's a great motivator. Apparently she sings, and I'd like to hear her sometime. Okay, Melissa?

• Donald J. Carey is a sweetheart of a guy and also has a book coming out called BUMPY LANDINGS. Check him out; bring a lei.

• A.L. Sonnichsen over at The Green Bathtub (so named because her writing cuts into her cleaning time) and I are finding we have a bathtub full of things in common, beginning with the areas we call/called home, and our husband's football careers, both on the field and sidelines. She posts her short stories weekly, and is sending me chocolate. What more can you ask from a blogger friend?

• Go see Jayne over at A Novice Novelist. She's British. She's truly delightful.

• I really like how Clarissa Draper critiques chapters at Listen to the Voices. And her posts cover everything from Blogger tips to Forensics.

• Kimberly Vanderhorst at Temporary? Insanity is the embodiment of serenity and anxiety at the same time. Her posts are sweetness to the soul. She would balk at that. But I insist.

• Sara B. Larson is new to blogging and I found her posts really fresh, so she's on the list!

And one more note. My book contract is signed, delivered, and my copy is now in my possession. I feel like the Velveteen Rabbit. Real.

The Resolution

I felt guilty. I had cleaned the bathrooms, and the laundry was fairly caught up. My visiting teaching was all but done and the youngest had been deposited at ballet lessons with several minutes to spare.
But my husband came home earlier than expected, changed into his stripeys and called out, "I have to ref a game nobody knew was happening! I'll be home after 6!" Kiss on the cheek and gone.
I knew he was exhausted, and hungry, a million things on his mind, and he would never see the cash he made reffing this game because we overspent at Christmas. I'd had a couple phone calls for "Bishop", but the messages would wait. He always got to them when he could.
I scrambled to make dinner so he would have a hearty meal to come home to. The kitchen was a little messy, the kids' school dump was still all over the entry, our bedroom was still bare-boned, waiting to be painted, and the piles of things that needed a home after re-organizing my study/laundryroom were still waiting in the dining room.
I had been on the computer most of the day, searching for a vacation rental on the Oregon coast big enough for us and extended family, editing a WIP, and reading.
Later, after dinner, as kids were getting ready for bed, Brandon pulled me in for a hug. "I put in my application today." Our high school principal is retiring. We'd worked together a little on updating his resume.
I told him I was proud of him, and so grateful he works so hard for us, always trying to better himself and our lives. I looked around at the piles of clutter.
"What did you do today?" He had that little smile that told me he already knew the answer.
Heh. I listed as many things as I could, then gave up. "I was on the computer most of the day."
"Mm-hmm."
"I'm sorry."
He just looked at me with that smile.
"I can't seem to find balance. I feel like... I have to search and read and find everything I can-"
"About writing?"
"Mm-hm. It's like I'm getting an education."
He nodded.
"But I have to treat this like a job. With set hours, and I think as soon as I do that, I can get a handle on, you know, the stuff I used to be on top of."
"Sounds good to me. Anything I can do?"

Guilt guilt guilt. Since when did my tell-it-like-it-is, 'I'm-not-a-pessimist-I'm-a-realist', life-is-like-football, "What do flowers have to do with romance?", type 'A' personality husband become Mr. Sensitivity? Because, to be perfectly honest, when I was writing my first novel (2008) into the wee hours of the morning, afternoon, and every hour in-between, throwing cold cereal at the kids and telling him there were left-overs somewhere I was sure of it... the resentment of my laptop and the words filling it up was apparent.
And then he read it. After much begging and pleading and batting of eyelashes, on my part that is, he read my novel. And read and read.
And when he finished he took a deep breath and shook his head, and said, "Come here," and held me really tight.
He said, "You can do this."

So, I am going to give myself a schedule... not too tight, because I am SO not a type 'A' personality, I am going to re-visit the chore chart, and I am going to find some of that balance my family and I deserve. I need to feel good about this endeavor, and I need my family to feel good about it, too. With all that is going on in the world, we are so blessed, and our time is so short.

I can do this.

Basket of Coolness

Growing up, I was a nerd. In my family, I was the not funny but tried to be, never had a good comeback, always trapped in an embarrassing situation, terrifyingly shy outside my home and very close friends (well, we all were), bossy big sister my little brother called "Kristi-pissti". Most of my friends would say, "No, no...", but my siblings are already nodding, saying, "Yes, yes..." Not so deep down, I was a pretty, little, geek.
And I'm fine with that, now.

Just before the New Year, my siblings gave me something. It was... SO PERFECT.

A big basket with:
-Your official writing shirt! *see picture
-Your favorite brainfood #1 (chocolate covered cinnamon bears)
-References! (just in case): Write Right, by Jan Vanolia, and The Pocket Muse, by Monica Wood
-A jar of Magnetic Poetry (tiny words for writer's block)
-Your favorite brainfood #2 (another bag of chocolate covered cinnamon bears)
-For Inspiration and Enjoyment: Whitman Poetry and Prose
-For more Inspiring and Energizing tunes! ($15 iTunes card)
-Fuel for Thought! (Costco jar of mixed nuts)
-Ahhh. Relax... (a delicious variety of herbal teas and a funky travel mug)
-Godiva chocolate.
-A monogrammed notebook and matching magnetic bookmarks. K. I looked at them for an hour.

Who is the nerd, now?

Thanks, Shell, Trev, Mike, Jenn, Craig, and Carrie. You made my New Year.