Top Eight Foods Eaten Prior to . . .

wrecks.

Heard this on the radio recently.

1. Coffee
2. Hot soup
3. Tacos
4. Chilli Dogs
5. Hamburger
6. Chicken wings
7. Fried Chicken
8. Jelly Donuts

What were you eating the last wreck you had?

Quote:
Never mind what others do; do better than yourself, beat your own record from day to day, and you are a success. --Wm. J.H. Boetcker

Blessings

The Value of Critique Partners

Priceless, if you have the right ones.

Critique partners don't just read your manuscripts. They read, love, hate (really!), tear apart, encourage, advise, brainstorm, and are there for you whether you get rejections or acceptances.

• Example 1:

My first three critique partners were unique in that we all wrote different genres. Two got how I wrote, one didn't. But the one that didn't gave me a piece of advice I've never forgotten.

One of the best of the three in critiquing told me that I should hack away (not in so many words) how I'd started the romance they were reading, and begin the story with the scene from around the second chapter, I think it was.

Wow. I couldn't get my mind around that one. I loved my baby the way I'd created it. There wasn't anything wrong with the way I wrote the beginning chapter. Blah, blah, blah.

So, the CP that didn't always get my type of writing, said, "Put it away. Don't look at it for a few days, weeks, whatever. Give yourself time. Then revisit it and see what you think."

I did. I listened. I cut.

Now I can't understand why I ever thought differently. The story is MUCH stronger because I listened to those CPs' advice.

• Example 2:

One of the novels I'm working on is an edgy (dealing with strong subjects such as abuse) contemporary. Recently, I got critiques back from three different CPs. On one of them, Mary suggested I build more suspense into the first chapter by lengthening the scene, and then she suggested that my heroine do some of that in the garden.

Now that might not sound like much to you, but to me, working behind the scenes, it was just the thing that worked in my brain. I started to plot and think how I could do it. I was able to go back and rework the chapter, and it worked. Stronger. More intense.

Another of these three, Ro (well, Mary does too. Grin.), reacts violently to my manuscript. She hates, hates, hates the antagonists, and even though the protagonist isn't (right now) in any way an angel, she's rooting for her.

Exactly the reaction this type of novel should draw out of a reader. It's exactly what helps me see I'm on track while writing it.

Tearing apart, advising, brainstorming, and reactions from my critique partners all play a huge part in helping me develop the best novel that I can write.

And, of course, that just means, I'm another step closer to publication.

The ultimate goal for a writer.




Quote:
The two most engaging powers of an author are to make new things familiar and familiar things new. --Samuel Johnson

Blessings!

The Tiny Cabin

Here's a fun one that came from a West Virginian! Enjoy!


A social worker from a big city in New York recently transferred to the mountains of West Virginia and was on the first tour of her new territory when she came upon the tiniest cabin she had ever seen in her life.

Intrigued she went up and knocked on the door. "Anybody home?"

"Yep," came a kid's voice through the door.

"Is your pa there?"

"Pa? Nope, he left afore Ma came in," said the kid.

"Well, is your mother there?" persisted the social worker.

"Ma? Nope, she left just afore I got here," said the kid.

"But," protested the social worker, "are you never together as a family?"

"Sure, but not here," said the kid through the door. "This is the outhouse!"



Quote:
Obstacles are those frightful things you see when you take your eyes off your goal. --Hannah Moore

Blessings

Bubbles and Blizzards

Ice Cream.
Totally delicious.
Good for the brain if you don't gobble and get brain-freeze.
One of the four (?) six (?), whatever, basic food groups.

Cold.
Good anyway.
soft, hard, on a cone, bowl, plate, on cake, by itself.

chocolate is good,
vanilla is good.
Strawberry is good.
All three? Heaven.

So is cookies and cream.
And,
butter pecan
strawberry cheesecake,
fudge brownie
peanut butter
cherry chip
And a whole bunch of other flavors.

Then you've got:
drumsticks
ice cream sandwiches
fudge bars
pushups
and all the candy bar types, hmmm!

And all that's before we even go to Dairy Queen or Michaels.
Michaels bubbles are to die for. Pure delight.

Dairy Queen's strawberry cheesecake blizzards are world shattering! Really.

Ice Cream. Food for the summer!

Well, spring, fall and winter ain't too bad either!




Quote:
Persevere. Even the snails made it to the ark.


Blessings

Emma and Me

(A very brief description of Emma and Me)

I read this one awhile back when a friend loaned me the book. Poignant, touching and shocking are words that describe this "new" author, Elizabeth Flock's book for me.

Not an inspirational, but still a book that holds attention, it's written from an eight-year-old child point of view. The girl lives in an imaginary world communicating with her "sister," Emma, to shut out the real world--her father's death, her unstable mother, and an abusive stepfather.

Worst of all, she's lost all her friends, her mother thinks Carrie's lost it all, and everyone calls her crazy. Only Carrie isn't. She's only blotting out what really happened to her father.

If you want to read a book that will have you crying one minute and horrified the next, read Emma and Me.


Quote:
To pick up a book is to gamble with your life, because you have no idea how it may affect you. --Katherine Ramsland


Blessings

One Flaw in Women

Thanks, dear friend, Ann, for sending this on to me!
Enjoy, friends!

They stand up to injustice.
They don't take no for an answer.
When they believe there is a better solution, they find it.

They go without so their family can have.
They go to the doctor with a frightened friend.
They love unconditionally.

They cry when their children excel.
And cheer when their friends get awards.
They are happy when they hear about a birth or a wedding.

Their hearts break when a friend dies.
They grieve over the loss of a family member.

Yet they are strong when they think there is no strength left.
They know that a hug and a kiss can heal a broken heart.
Women come in all sizes, shapes, and colors.

They'll drive, fly, walk, run, or email you to show how much they care about you.

The heart of a woman is what makes the world keep turning.
They bring joy, hope, and love.
They have compassion and ideas.
They give moral support to their family and friends.

Women have vital things to say.
And everything to give.

However . . .
If there is one flaw in women, it is that they forget their worth.

Smiles!


Quote:
On the road to success, you can be sure of one thing. There is never a crowd on the extra mile.

Blessings!

One Day at a Time

I hope you enjoy this tale as much as I did when my fellow-writer and friend, Lisa, sent it out today!

THE DAFFODIL PRINCIPLE

Several times my daughter had telephoned to say,

"Mother, you must come see the daffodils before they are over."

I wanted to go, but it was a two-hour drive

from Laguna to Lake Arrowhead.

"I will come next Tuesday," I promised,

a little reluctantly, on her third call.

Next Tuesday dawned cold and rainy.

Still, I had promised, and so I drove there.

When I finally walked into Carolyn's house and hugged and greeted my grandchildren, I said, "Forget the daffodils, Carolyn! The road is invisible in the clouds and fog, and there is nothing in the world except you and these children that I want to see bad enough to drive another inch!"

My daughter smiled calmly and said,

"We drive in this all the time, mother."

"Well, you won't get me back on the road until it clears,

and then I'm heading for home!" I assured her.

"I was hoping you'd take me over to the garage to pick up my car."

"How far will we have to drive?"

"Just a few blocks," Carolyn said. "I'll drive. I'm used to this."

After several minutes, I had to ask, "Where are we going?"

"This isn't the way to the garage!"

"We're going to my garage the long way," Carolyn smiled, "by way of the daffodils."

"Carolyn," I said sternly, "please turn around."

"It's all right, Mother, I promise.

You will never forgive yourself if you miss this experience."

After about twenty minutes, we turned onto a small gravel road and I saw a small church. On the far side of the church, I saw a hand-lettered sign that read, "Daffodil Garden." We got out of the car and each took a child's hand, and I followed Carolyn down the path.

Then, we turned a corner of the path, and I looked up and gasped.
Before me lay the most glorious sight.

It looked as though someone had taken a great vat of gold

and poured it down over the mountain peak and slopes.

The flowers were planted in majestic, swirling patterns-great ribbons and swaths of deep orange, white, lemon yellow, salmon pink, saffron, and butter yellow. Each different-colored variety was planted as a group so that it swirled and flowed like its own river with its own unique hue.

There were five acres of flowers.

"But who has done this?" I asked Carolyn.

"It's just one woman," Carolyn answered.

"She lives on the property. That's her home."

Carolyn pointed to a well kept A frame house that looked small

and modest in the midst of all that glory.

We walked up to the house.

On the patio, we saw a poster.

"Answers to the Questions I Know You Are Asking" was the headline.

The first answer was a simple one. "50,000 bulbs," it read.

The second answer was, "One at a time, by one woman.

Two hands, two and very little brain."

The third answer was, "Began in 1958."

There it was, The Daffodil Principle.

For me, that moment was a life-changing experience.

I thought of this woman whom I had never met, who, more than forty years before, had begun-one bulb at a time-to bring her vision

of beauty and joy to an obscure mountaintop.

Still, just planting one bulb at a time, year after year,

had changed the world.

This unknown woman had forever changed the world in which she lived.

She had created something of ineffable,

indescribable magnificence, beauty, and inspiration.

The principle her daffodil garden taught is one of the greatest principles of celebration. That is, learning to move toward our goals and desires one step at a time-often just one baby-step at a time-and learning to love the doing, learning to use the accumulation of time.

When we multiply tiny pieces of time with small increments of daily effort, we too will find we can accomplish magnificent things.

We can change the world.

"It makes me sad in a way," I admitted to Carolyn. "What might I have accomplished if I had thought of a wonderful goal thirty-five or forty years ago and had worked away at it 'one bulb at a time' through all those years. Just think what I might have been able to achieve!"

My daughter summed up the message of the day in her usual direct way. "Start today," she said. "It's so pointless to think of the lost hours of yesterdays. The way to make learning a lesson of celebration instead of a cause for regret is to only ask, "How can I put this to use today?"

--Author Unknown

One of my fellow writers shared this quote today. Loved it:
There's a reason the rearview mirror is smaller than the windshield. What's coming up is more important than what you've already passed.

Blessings!

Waterlilies and Other Stuff

Popping in to say:

When we cleaned up my garden pond this spring, I replanted my water lilies into bigger pots, and wow! Got several new blossoms that I've not had before. A gorgeous violet and a perfect creamy yellow, along with a white. Can't wait to see what else will pop up out of that water.

Of course, all my other plants are showing off--discreetly cause they know they can't outdo the lilies. But still, they are welcome and beneficial to the pond.

Inspiration has struck and I'm making tracks (er, chapters) in my writing. Distractions have held me back, but I've got my writing life back and while I do, I ain't agonna let it go to waste!

Then . . . had a stupendous evening/date with hubby last night. Fun and relaxing. A perfect near-ending of the week. And something I've needed for awhile. Precious time.

One other thing: Contest coming up soon!

Back to my writing now . . .




Quote:
Either I will find a way, or I will make one. --Sir Philip Sidney

Blessings!

M.K. and a Little Boy

Are you one of those persons that loves everyone and everything?

Well, I've gotta tell you, it's not that easy for me. Take for example:

Years ago, I babysat some kids. This one little boy--well, there was just something about the little fellow that was hard for me to love like I should have.

I tried. Honest. But I couldn't make myself love him.
So I resorted to prayer. I told God he would have to help me learn to love this child.

To make a long story short (as all the long-winders always say, and then go on and on) he did, and I did. Wasn't in my power, but his.

Now on to M.K.

Who's M.K.? Stands for Miniature KitKat (KitKat is the mother). When Son # 1 moved, he brought them to us to watch. I had no trouble with KitKat. Even though she did things I didn't like, I cared about her.

But M.K. was another matter. Could have been cause she's not an overly friendly cat. Or could be . . . well, I don't rightly know.

But I didn't like her. Care for her. Love her.

Until she took a liking to me.

I guess I felt sorry for her, with Son # 1 gone so much. So when she mewed and drug her "string" into our great room so I could have the privilege of running around the kitchen for her to chase, I started to enjoy playing with her.

And then she's got these BIG yellow eyes that are totally gorgeous. And she started making up to me. When she wanted petting, she'd allow me to pet her majesty's head a little. And she deigns now and then to sit at my feet or near me.

She also is the only cat on our hobby farm that can open the door to go out and then paw it to come back in. Darling!

She still doesn't want picked up. She won't ever be a lap cat. She's spoiled and touchy and self-centered.

But I love her.


Quote:
You write to me that it's not possible. The word is not French. --Napoleon

Blessings

Second-Guesses

What does it take to be a second-guess-er-writer?

Hmm.

Take some: Anxiousness.
Throw in a few: Wishes that didn't happen.
Check out the: Fast heart rates.
Sprinkle in: A touch of inferiority.
Toss in a dash of: impatience.
Smother it all with: Rejections!

And you have a situation that is ripe for second-guessing yourself. You get to thinking:

I should have written this novel differently. Or . . .
This novel isn't any good. Or . . .
What am I doing trying to write anyway?

But, if you're a writer, with a great agent, then you've got a chance of
coming out of that thick soup of despair! Ha.

She/he can set your feet right back on the solid earth where they belong with a few words of encouragement, advice, or suggestion. Instead of swimming in a fluffy cloud and never getting anywhere, she/he can help you re-focus your ambition, your calling, your career, right where you know it should be, but are so moody, sometimes, you let IT all side-track you.

Thank God for agents. Heaven's gift to writers!


Quote:
Keep your fears to yourself, but share your courage with others. --Robert Louis Stevenson

Blessings