The Dry Spell

Am I obsessed with the rain? Well, actually I'm not talking about that today. It's more writing thoughts.

You see, some people think of writing as a hobby, or an easy thing to do. Ha. They must not have ever sat down to write a 400 page novel. Now, that takes work.

How, you say?

Let me explain a little.

1. How do writers come up with their ideas?

Examples from my own writing life:

My romance series: I needed an idea. I'd written other genres, but not strictly a romance. I kept thinking and praying about it, for about a month. One day, I thought about three friends in a small town.

Now that's really unique, huh? So what could I do to spice that thought up? Hmmm.
Here's what I came up with:

First friend: Italian, loves to cook, loves antique cars and simplicity. She inherited from her father the love of wood and his carpenter business. The man? A new, just moved to town, history professor/writer who is both set in his ways, a little bit grouchy, and anti-women because of a previous bad marriage that ended with his wife's violent death.

Second friend: Stunning, elegant woman who studied to be a professional pianist but was sidetracked by her first husband. She'd thought he was a dream, but he turned out to be a nightmare. With the insurance money from his death, she opens a semi-classy restaurant. The only thing, she can't cook. Her man? A British chef who is both charming, talented, and a flirt.

Third friend: Country girl who considers herself plain, but doesn't make the best use of what she has. She co-owns, with her brother, a junk/unusual/antique shop that she loves. Inside the shop is a ballerina music box that she thinks resembles her life: forever spinning, but never going anywhere. She loves to write plays and her secret dream: a knight who rides up and sweeps her off her feet. Her man? A gentle, talented, local artist who she does not want.

See? Three stories all character driven. Without these six characters (the men play a huge part), there can not be a story. Sure, I have setting and plots, but the characters are what makes the stories.

From these three simple, basic descriptions I developed three shorter novels that I love. Didn't think I could do it, but they're done and the third and last one will be sent to my agent this week.

There you have No. 1 of a possible scenario to building a novel.

That's enough of that. If you're not too bored, they'll be more later . . .



Quote:
Faith that the thing can be done is essential to any great achievement. --Thomas N. Carruther



Blessing

The Importance of Having . . .

A literary agent.

I guess I'm prejudiced. You see, the first time I talked with one in person, was one that I'd been terrified to meet. That's how much first impressions are true. She was sweet, friendly, and easy to talk to.

Her business was also the one that I felt like God wanted me to be with.

So I sent in my proposal and waited. In God's timing, I received an email from Diana with an invitation to contract with them.

What's that mean?

It means I have someone in my corner. I have an edge. Almost all the publishing houses refuse to accept manuscript submissions . . . unless you speak with them at a conference and get invited to do so, or . . . you have an agent.

She's (or he) there to bounce ideas off of (as I did this week).
She's there to answer questions.
She's there to give suggestions if she thinks adjustments are needed to your manuscripts.
She's there to give you a nudge or boost when you need it.
She's there to submit to publishing houses.
She's there to go through the rejections with you. (WE (not you) received a rejection)
She's there to share in the good things happening in your life.
She's there to negotiate when you finally get that coveted contract.

She's worth her weight in gold.

I really, really do thank God for my agent. Diana. We're a team. She's an encourager.



Quote:
If you don't know where you are going, you'll probably end up somewhere else. --Lawrence J. Peter & Raymond Hall


Blessings

Ohio Meeting

I went to my first (but the ACFW Ohio second meeting) today. What fun. Tiffany Colter did a great job of inspiring us to really think and plan about our writing being a business. Set our goals, shoot for them, and do the adjusting we need to, but at least do something. Get somewhere.

Loved seeing old friends and meeting some new ones and Lisa did a great job of hosting us with lots of delicious snacks and drinks.

We left home with a drop in temperature but no snow. By the time we reached the meeting destination, we were in for what looked like a snow storm. But . . . fortunately that promise didn't materialize.

We made it home safely, thank God. Tired, but happy and looking forward to a fun and productive time in April when we get the tremendous privilege of visiting a publishing house. Yeah! Can't wait.

Just thought I'd stop in and record some new writing developments . . . maybe more some other time.

See ya later!



Love this quote:
Every path has its puddle. --English proverb

What's yours?

Blessings

You Asked For It

You know what happens when you encourage some people? They don't know when to quit. So . . . for fun (???) (for me, anyhow. Laugh!) here's some thoughts about Easter and life and spring in a sort-of-poem-ish way. . .

Enjoy! (If you can)

Hey . . .

What's it all mean?
It all may seem
Like not much at all
In this world built like a ball.

But . . .

Thinking of spring
And what it will bring
Makes my heart ting
And my voice croak and sing.

So . . .

What about the weather?
And the wild geese and birds of feather?
They know it's soon time
For all creatures to sit and rhyme.

And beware . . .

Spring has crawled in upon us
Moody and fickle, flirty, with lots of fuss
Ushering in peeping toms named flowers
New constructions called flower bowers.

But that's not all . . .

A wonderful, glorious Easter holiday
Full of promise, a day with beginning rays
Of new life and wonder and forgiving
A new way to think, a new way of living.

So . . .

Think bunnies and eggs and colorful new clothes
Think sunrise breakfasts with your brand new beau
Think heavenly cantatas and hams and kids' baskets
Think stones rolled away, never about caskets.

Cause . . .

The flowers and trees and plants and the bees
All scream of a creator much smarter than you and me
He knows what I need: the sunshine, snow, and the tears.
The struggles, the compliments, all thru the years.

And, so . . .

• I'm looking forward to the real spring instead of this teasing, impish female of a month called March.
• I'm dreaming of seeing the renewal of life in my flower beds.
• The new shoots from some of my favorites.
• The fun of choosing different plants.

• I'm thinking of shedding these heavy sweaters and boots.
• (And forgetting about the conditioners and fans and sweat and muggyness of summer)
• I'm thinking of cool breezes and traveling again.

• Of new plots and twists and fun and writing and publishing and beginnings.
• Of the planning of conferences and meeting editors.
• Of traveling to a new place called Minnesota.

Thank you, God, for life and you and the love of doing stuff that's fun. For family and friends and animals and all the necessities and some fun stuff too.

Have a great Easter.





Quote:
Not all those who wander are lost. -- J.R.R. Tolkien


Blessings

One Voice

(You know, whether you agree with who or what this lady says [and I do], ONE voice can make a difference. Just try it and see!)



I was sitting alone in one of those loud, casual steak houses that you find all over the country. You know the type--a bucket of peanuts on every table, shells littering the floor, and a bunch of perky college kids racing around with sizzling platters.

Taking a sip of my iced tea, I studied the crowd over the rim of my glass. My gaze lingered on a group enjoying their meal. They wore no uniform to identify their branch of service, but they were definitely "military:" clean-shaven, cropped haircut, and that "squared away" look that comes with pride.

Smiling sadly, I glanced across my table to the empty seat where my husband usually sat. It had only been a few months since we sat in this very booth, talking about his upcoming deployment to the Middle East . That was when he made me promise to get a sitter for the kids, come back to this restaurant once a month and treat myself to a nice steak. In turn he would treasure the thought of me being here, thinking about him until he returned home.

I fingered the little flag pin I constantly wear and wondered where he was at this very moment. Was he safe and warm? Was his cold any better? Were my letters getting through to him?

As I pondered these thoughts, high pitched female voices from the next booth broke into my thoughts. "I don't know what Bush is thinking about Invading Iraq . You'd think that man would learn from his old man's mistakes. Good Lord. What an idiot! I can't believe he is even in office. You do know, he stole the election."

I cut into my steak and tried to ignore them as they began an endless tirade running down our president.

I thought about the last night I spent with my husband, as he prepared to deploy. He had just returned from getting his smallpox and anthrax shots. The image of him standing in our kitchen packing his gas mask still gives me chills.

Once again the women's voices invaded my thoughts.

"It's all about oil, you know. Our soldiers will go in and rape and steal all the oil they can in the name of 'freedom'. Hmmm! I wonder how many innocent people they'll kill without giving it a thought. It's pure greed, you know."

My chest tightened as I stared at my wedding ring. I could still see how handsome my husband looked in his "mess dress" the day he slipped it on my finger I wondered what he was wearing now. Probably his desert uniform, affectionately dubbed "coffee stains" with a heavy bulletproof vest over it.

"You know, we should just leave Iraq alone. I don't think they are hiding any weapons. In fact, I bet it's all a big act just to increase the president's popularity. That's all it is, padding the military budget at the expense of our social security and education. And, you know what else? We're just asking for another 9-11. I can't say when it happens again that we didn't deserve it."

Their words brought to mind the war protesters I had watched gathering outside our base. Did no one even appreciate the sacrifice of brave men and women, who leave their homes and family to ensure our freedom? Do they even know what "freedom" is?

I glanced at the table where the young men were sitting and saw their courageous faces change. They had stopped eating and looked at each other dejectedly, listening to the women talking.

"Well, I, for one, think it's just deplorable to invade Iraq , and I am certainly sick of our tax dollars going to train professional baby-killers we call a military."

Professional baby-killers. I thought about what a wonderful father my husband is, and of how long it would be before he would see our children again.

That's it! Indignation rose up inside me. Normally reserved, pride in my husband gave me a brassy boldness I never realized I had. Tonight one voice will answer on behalf of our military, and let her pride in our troops be known.

Sliding out of my booth, I walked around to the adjoining booth and placed my hands flat on their table. Lowering myself to eye level with them, smiling I said, "I couldn't help overhearing your conversation. You see, I'm sitting here trying to enjoy my dinner alone. And, do you know why? Because my husband, whom I love with all my heart, is halfway around the world defending your right to say rotten things about him."

"Yes, you have the right to your opinion, and what you think is none of my business. However, what you say in public is something else, and I will not sit by and listen to you ridicule MY country, MY president, MY husband, and all the other fine American men and women who put their lives on the line, just so you can have the "freedom" to complain. Freedom is an expensive commodity, ladies. Don't let your actions cheapen it."

I must have been louder than I meant to be, because the manager came over to inquire if everything was all right.

"Yes, thank you," I replied.

Then turning back to the women, I said, "Enjoy the rest of your meal."

As I returned to my booth applause broke out. I was embarrassed for making a scene, and went back to my half eaten steak. The women picked up their check and scurried away.

After finishing my meal, and while waiting for my check, the manager returned with a huge apple cobbler ala mode. "Compliments of those soldiers," he said. He also smiled and said the ladies tried to pay for my dinner, but that another couple had beaten them to it.

When I asked who, the manager said they had already left, but that the gentleman was a veteran, and wanted to take care of the wife of "one of our boys."

With a lump in my throat, I gratefully turned to the soldiers and thanked them for the cobbler. Grinning from ear to ear, they came over and surrounded the booth.

"We just wanted to thank you, ma'am. You know we can't get into confrontations with civilians, so we appreciate what you did."

As I drove home, for the first time since my husband's deployment, I didn't feel quite so alone. My heart was filled with the warmth of the other diners who stopped by my table, to relate how they, too, were proud of my husband, and would keep him in their prayers.

I knew their flags would fly a little higher the next day. Perhaps they would look for more tangible ways to show their pride in our country, and the military that protect her. And maybe, just maybe, the two women who were railing against our country would pause for a minute to appreciate all the freedom America offers, and the price it pays to maintain its freedom.

As for me, I have learned that one voice CAN make a difference.


This was so beautiful it touched my heart. Thank you, Ann, for sending it to me!




Quote:
Most of us go to our graves with our music still inside us.


Blessings

Raindrops are Fallin' on my Head, huh?

Raindrops are fallin' on my head
Pourin' thru the ceiling into my bed
Stop up the holes, you say?
Too much work, but I may . . .

If the rain-soaked cats
Don't stop lying on my mats
Hey, the dogs are just as bad
They shake until I'm mad.

Hubby just turns his head and walks away
While I close my eyes and refuse to have my say
Of the awful, awful mess the rain is makin'
While in terror my whole world is shakin'.

The trees are a drippin'
The birds aren't pippin'
The driveway looks like a holey map
Each dog has takin' to wearing a hat!

To keep off the rain, the silly, silly rain
That tempts us all to go really, really unsane.
That makes for muddy pawprints, hoofprints, and footprints
The only thing I can do to ignore the pouring rain is eat mints!

No sunny, funny walks in the sun
No places to go for lots of fun
Cause the rain just won't call it quits
I want to put on my boxing mitts!

So the next time you see me with my thimble,
A drowned rat I might resemble
Or a fish, an eel, or maybe a swimmer,
The dark clouds makes it dimmer!

So this ode to the rain, or is it a sad ballad?
It makes me want to eat, and not a green salad
Not carrots and apples, not lean or the green
But taters and candy, cake and ice cream.

There. Now you can see why I'm not a poet. But it was fun anyway. I good way to get back into blogging after two long weeks of fighting germs and colds and coughs . . . and other miserable stuff! LOL.

Have a great evening!



Quote:
How difficult it is to be simple. --Vincent Van Gogh


Blessings

Spring is Almost Here?

I received an email the other day from my bro, and it gave me food for thought. And a pause.

We were having one of the worst snowstorms we'd had all winter. And in his email he said, he could see signs of spring. It was almost here.

Optimism. Hope. An ability to see what's coming by past experience. Whatever you want to call it, he had it.

It was a day of deep, heavy snow.
A day to stay in.
A day that experts advised "no travel."
More digging out required.
More damage to the driveway.
Another week before temperatures would rise enough to melt the cold stuff.

Spring?

But . . .

It's March
Daffodils are refusing to stay asleep; they're pushing the soil.
Temperatures are refusing to stay at a low ebb.

Here's a poem by Emily Dickinson I like:

March
Dear March, come in!
How glad I am!
I looked for you before.
Put down your hat--
You must have walked--
How out of breath your are!
Dear March, how are you?
And the rest?
Did you leave nature well?
Oh, March,
Come right upstairs with me,
I have so much to tell.



Enjoy the coming of spring!




Quote:
We shall never find friends if we expect to find them without fault. --Thomas Fuller


Blessings

More Beautiful Words

See if you can top these:

Patriarch
Pathos
Pauperize
Pawn
Photosynthesis
Philippine
Pitchfork
Plaintive
Plectrum
Playwright


Mantua
Manysided
Manuscript
Maraschino
Marble
Marine
Measurable
Meadow
Mayhem
Maya
Metermaid


Exploit
Experienced
Expatriation
Expedient
Euphemism
Evergreen
Emulation
Encase
Effortless
Elderberry
Eggbeater
Egypt




Quote:
Take your life in your own hands, and what happens? A terrible thing: no one to blame. --Erica Jong

Blessings.

In Our Own Hands

How many times do I do this very thing?

Can't wait.
Know it better myself.
Can't see beyond my own nose.

Ouch.

What failings.
Why can't we humans learn?

It's so easy to say, if it's going to get done, I've got to do it myself. But what about patience? What about waiting for answer? For the chore to get done by a younger generation? What about that person who has to think his way through it before acting.

Patience: the virtue of waiting, the willingness to put up with waiting, pain, trouble, etc. Calm endurance of anything that annoys, troubles, or hurts.

Have you seen those who always have to be doing something. (Like me?) Hard to sit still? Hard to be still for long?

Patience. A virtue, I'm afraid many of us lack.

Even me.



Quote:
Patience is a bitter plant, but it has a sweet fruit. --German proverb


Blessings

THE KISS She is pregnant;

he had just saved her from a fire in her house, rescuing her by carrying her out of the house into her front yard, while he continued to fight the fire.

When he finally got done putting the fire out, he sat down to catch his breath and rest.

A photographer noticed her in the distance looking at the fireman.
He saw her walking straight toward the fireman and wondered what she was going to do.

As he raised his camera, she came up to the tired man who had saved her life and the lives of her babies and kissed him just as the photographer snapped this photograph.

And people say animals are dumb

Quote:
I made a mistake today. I made a mistake yesterday. I think it's very important to ignore the negative. --Jerry Rubin

Blessings!

I've Been Challenged!

LOL. Yeah, it's true. Someone wanted to know which one of the list (last post) applies to me the most. After scanning them, I chose this one:

Faith is the ability to not panic.

Dictionary says about panic: unreasoning fear.

Ever experience it? Yep, afraid so.
When?

Well . . . since you asked . . .

1. When I've volunteered more than I'm capable of producing in a reasonable amount of time.
2. When I need to accomplish something and I'm down sick with the flu and a cold.
3. When I don't have any desire to edit, but I know I have to.

Three instances of very real fear or panic for me. Unreasonable. Probably, because somehow everything usually comes out okay if not perfect.

Who asks for perfect?

Just stopping in with a few lines of nonsense and to let you know I've been out of it. Monday, I thought I was a goner. Today, I think I may have been granted a reprieve. Panic, panic, what it doesn't do to poor souls. Sigh. If only I had more faith.



Quote:
By asking the impossible, we attain the best possible. --Italian proverb


Blessings