V-Formation

Our Changing Language

2012-01-27T06:39:00.002-07:00

I'm finishing final edits on Too Many Ghosts: A Dominique and Duchess Mystery. Since my writer's critique group of 15 years disbanded last year, I enlisted some of the members of my reading group as my new critique group, including my middle daughter who is an excellent editor and voracious reader, (She's edited all 12 of my previous books) and two granddaughters, also voracious readers.

It has been a study in our ever-changing language and usage of terms and words that we retain, but the next generation is not familiar with. A true story before I share my list of words and terms that were foreign and unknown to my more youthful critiquers:

A Japanese friend of mine left her homeland when she was a young woman and came to America. She stayed in contact with her family and friends in Japan at first, but as the years passed and her parents died, her contact with them was sporadic. Finally after about 25 years in this county, she returned home to visit extended family and friends. Though she had kept up her own language here after learning to speak excellent English, when she arrived in Japan, she discovered the language in that country had evolved and she had a very difficult time understanding or being understood. Her Japanese language had remained static - the living language in Japan had changed and evolved with the passing years.

And now to my list of words or phrases that my younger readers felt were archaic or had absolutely no knowledge of the meaning of the term:

Rang off - as in hung up the telephone
Make tracks - as in go quickly
Get out of Dodge - leave town immediately
Hurts like all get out - really, really hurts
Makes interesting copy - interesting information for an article or book
Spell her off - take over and give her a respite
The folks - the parents
Count your chickens before they hatch - if it isn't there yet, you can't count on it
Mars candy bars - do you remember those? They were my favorite
CCC - Civilian Conservation Corps - public work relief program that started in 1933
WPA - Works Progress Administration - similar to above started in 1935
Hogan - primary traditional home of the Navajo people
I'll fix you! - I'll get even
Fanny - backside, behind

That is the short list of terms I've removed from the manuscript or had to explain to my readers. I plan to go back through the edited ms. and pull out the rest of the words they questioned. My youngest daughter suggested a title for a book: A Loss of Words: A Septuagenarian Author Ponders Our Changing Language. Not that I have time for that, but it might make for interesting copy in some future article about the folks before I have to ring off and make tracks to get out of Dodge to spell her off.

Birthday Wishes

2012-01-26T11:36:00.003-07:00

It's my hubby's birthday today.

Happy Birthday, dear one!

We've been together for quite a few years--quite a few, and I'm grateful for his steadfast goodness. When people are married for a length of time greater than twenty years, they've had a chance to experience many of life's conundrums, challenges, wonders, and slippery slopes. So it is with us. We've been through raising kids, burnt dinners, awesome vacations, and hanging wallpaper. We've had the opportunity to view each other in our best dress for church, and our grubbiest outfits as we laid sod together. We've stood by each other at the hospital, and laughed ourselves breathless when our toddler pulled the Christmas tree over on herself. We've worked our way through fierce disagreements and angry feelings. With all the joys and struggles, we've grown individually and as a couple. I can truly say that, even after thirty plus plus plus years together, I still look across the breakfast table at my very best friend.

Again, a Very Merry Birthday to you, companion!

A New Angle on Self Publishing

2012-01-24T03:47:00.000-07:00

I have previously been quite vocal in my disapproval of self-publishing. Read my posts here and here if you don't believe me, or want to know why I am opposed to it.

However, I am starting to mellow. I have read several blogs which seem to think it's the future of publishing. With ebooks now making the process of self-publishing so much easier, more accessible and more affordable, forward-thinking types seem to think that the big publishing houses have had their day. "Indie" is the publishing of the future, they tell me.

I can see that there is an inherent unfairness about arrogant editors who reject submissions based on nothing more than the query letter while arbitrarily accepting others based on little more than their mood that day, or a hunch. I know that the success or otherwise of a book is impossible to predict and is largely a matter of taste. I see that many excellent books go unpublished while a lot of worthless dross is printed, distributed and hyped often based on little more than a "celebrity" author (read: ghost writer).

"Indie" is, apparently, the way to make this all fair again. And one of my initial objections to self-publishing - the fact that the reader cannot tell whether a self-published book is properly edited or well-written before investing their money in it - has largely been swept away by the opportunity to download a free sample. I download a lot of samples, and very rarely go on to buy the book.

People are, apparently, making good money from self-published books these days. I read one blog by a guy who had published his ebook through Kindle Direct Publishing. He was selling it at just 99p, but because a lot of people like a bargain and a large proportion of that came back to him, he was making good money from it. I don't write for the money, but hey, some would be nice.

What has really changed things, however, is that I am currently writing a book which is going to have to be self-published because no publisher would touch it.

The Saved Saint is the story of a returned LDS missionary who attends an evangelical church one Sunday and is "born again". Written in alternating points-of-view switching between the young man and his confused LDS mother, it examines the differences, the dilemmas and the difficulties when two people who love each other clash over religion. Although it won't go into apologetics or doctrinal issues, it will get at the heart of the often painful issue of the misunderstanding and mistrust between LDS Christians and Evangelical Christians.

I'm quite excited by the story, and although it's challenging both to write, and especially to research, it is coming along well. I feel that there is a need for it, because this issue is so common; several members of my ward (including me, actually) are former evangelical Christians whose loved-ones are unhappy about their membership of the LDS church, and three families I know of have been affected by members leaving the LDS church for evangelical pastures.

I have already approached an LDS publisher I have a "right of first refusal" contract with, and they have said that they couldn't publish anything with anti-Mormon subject matter in it. I suspect every other LDS publisher will say the same. Neither would the mainstream Christian publishers want it, because it has anti-Evangelical and pro-Mormon subject matter too. And the secular publishers are not interested in anything to do with religion.

So if The Saved Saint is ever going to see the light of day, I am going to have to self-publish. That's something I said I'd never do. But I think I need to, and it's a new adventure.

TAKE A RIDE ON THE PUBLICATION TRAIN

2012-01-19T06:43:00.000-07:00

A few years ago President Gordan B. Hinkley compared life to a journey on an old fashioned train. He said, and I'm paraphrasing, that most of life contains cinders, soot, noise, unexpected jerks and stops, cramped seating, and fatigue. Then he said it is the unexpected, beautiful vistas enjoyed here and there and arriving at your destination that makes the journey worthwhile. I've often thought of that statement and added my own interpretations to it along the way. Lately I've been comparing it for a young friend of mine to becoming a writer.

It's important to pack properly for your journey. Some of the items needed for your trip include: a love of stories (that includes a lot of reading); a sound grounding in grammar, spelling, word usage, and an appreciation for words; you'll also need a computer with the right software installed and the ability to use it both for writing and research (Gone are the days when handwritten or typed books are accepted by a publishing house and no matter how much better and easier to use Word Perfect may be than Word, manuscripts must be submitted in a compatible format to that used by the publishers you plan to send your submission.), and you'll need a generous amount of time.

Speaking of time, time isn't something that just happens. Those of us who hammered out our first stories on an old Smith-Corona with a baby on our laps, a four-year-old watching cartoons, and an older child grudgingly practicing the piano all in the same room learned something about making time. Today's young writers face those same obstacles plus the lure of social media and often the need to work to keep a roof over their families' heads. Making time to write isn't easy, but it can be done if the desire is strong enough.

The ride itself is bumpy and discouraging at times. Years of rejection slips, computer glitches, rewrites, submissions to agents or editors that seem to go nowhere, critique groups that find fault, and so many other disappointments, including seemingly no return for long hours of work. It's easy to see why many give up or attempt shortcuts to publication.

There are lovely vistas along the way---a meaningful writers' conference, a helpful class, encouraging words from your critique group, established writers or an agent who see something in your work and provide advice and encouragement, getting a request for the full manuscript, and perhaps most important of all, the sheer joy of writing.

When that much anticipated call finally comes and you learn a publisher wants your manuscript, it's not the end of the journey but simply an announcement that your stop is coming up. There are still rewrites, editing, contract approval, preparations for publicity, and so many new, unexpected things to learn and do.

The day you first hold a published copy of your book in your hands, the first time you see your book on a bookstore shelf, the first time you pass a car in a parking lot and realize someone is sitting in that car listening to your book, when you board a plane and notice a copy of your book on someone's lap, when a total stranger approaches you at a book signing and says "I loved your book" or you receive a note that says, "your book changed my life"-- those are the grand vistas. In some cases holding a royalty check in your hand is a memorable vista. Just knowing you've succeeded in reaching a difficult goal you set for yourself is perhaps the grandest vista of all. But that isn't the end of the ride. There's always another journey, another destination, another book to write, another goal to reach.

The Path Before Us

2012-01-13T07:17:00.002-07:00

I printed a couple of paragraphs from an article by John Tvednes and posted it near my computer where I can look at it frequently. I'll share it:

"In 1 Corinthians 16:13 Paul suggests that we not allow ourselves even the tiniest divergence from the path (the track) laid out before us. I have at times envisioned the strait and narrow path as a strait and narrow hallway. Far away, in a blaze of incandescent light stands a being of incomprehensible glory before an open door. (See Revelation 3:7-8)

But all along the hall are other doors, designed with Satanic ingenuity to draw us aside. Those doors are switch points. David's door had Bathsheba's picture on it. Absalom's door had a crown. the rich young ruler entered a door to a room full of wealth. The prodigal son found a portal marked "Freedom."

Cain found the door to his brother's flocks. The image is instructive. We know that we must endure to the end, but Satan knows that as well. He reaches out to us with his flaxen cords, with his mild poison, and he leads us away from the open door and "carefully down to hell." We must not allow ourselves to be misled at the switch points. Our destination is eternal lives and the everlasting presence of God, and nowhere else." (John Tvednes)

I love the images this conjures up. What are switch points in my life that could entice me from the glorious light at the end of the hall? We are never too old to be tempted away from our personal goals and even habits that have been ingrained for years can be changed. Case in point: I have been an early morning scripture studier for more years than I can count. Prayers and scripture study are first on my list of things to do every day followed by journal, read an article in the Ensign, a chapter in some book on writing, supplemental reading for the SS lesson, practicing the hymns on the organ for the following Sunday and looking over the Laurel lesson I will teach. These are the first things on the Daily Planner I devised (and continually revise and update.)

Since I get up at 4:00 every morning, I can complete all of these plus checking e-mail by 6:00. But if I have company or we are traveling, those things don't happen. Catching up when I get home or company leaves becomes burdensome, and suddenly my habits of years have been disrupted and these important things put aside. Since there are always more things to do than time to do them, if I start on the other things first, I never get back to these important items.

I guess my enticing doors are cleaning out boxes of genealogy, playing with photographs and making Shutterfly books, sorting through Family History pictures. All, of course, good and worthwhile projects, but not at the expense of my spiritual growth and development. Setting priorities and keeping them in proper order isn't easy, but definitely the way to stay on the path to where we ultimately want and need to go.

They say it takes 21 days to make a habit. From my experience, I can say it takes 7 days or less to break one. Conclusion: We need to keep our eyes EVERY HOUR of every day on that path and make sure we don't digress into little garden gates or hallway doors that look tempting for the moment. The moment can too easily become a lifetime.

Thinking Things Through

2012-01-12T10:50:00.002-07:00

Have you ever made a decision about something, only to look back a day or two later, wishing you'd given the idea a second thought? Perhaps you decided to purchase a dress that you were sure would make you look like Twiggy, but actually made you look like Miss Piggy; maybe it was the set of dishware that turned out NOT to be microwave safe; or the sweet little kitten that clawed your clothes, furniture, and your children.
Yesterday was such a day of decision for me, and although I'm not regretting the choices, I am feeling the effects of not thinking things through.
The day began normally with sitting for hours doing research for my next book. Around 11 am my body was crying out for movement. "Relax," I told it. "I have an appointment scheduled with the chiropractor at 3 o'clock. You'll feel much better after that." But, my body continued complaining, so I took it to the gym for a half hour work-out. Normally, that would not be an egregious activity, but I forgot that I hadn't been to the gym for 8 months. For the moment though, my body was happy. Then came my 3 pm chiropractic appointment. Sometimes I teasingly call my doctor, The Punisher, especially if he spends time pressing on very painful pressure points and getting a reluctant spine back in alignment. After this adjustment I was calling him, Mega Punisher! And, not only did he adjust my yowling body, but he also did acupuncture--and let me tell you some of those pins (especially the one in my forehead), felt like a hat pin!
I crawled to the car and dragged my body home. When I stumbled in the front door, my unaware hubby said, "Hey, the Spa called while you were gone. Did you forget that you'd scheduled a Lymphatic Massage at 7 pm?"
I had forgotten. I couldn't cancel. I had to go.
Have you ever had a Lymphatic Massage? It's an amazing procedure, but very draining...pun intended. At 8:30 pm I was sitting in my car, in the Spa parking lot, trying unsuccessfully to get my key into the starter, and wondering if my legs would be able to walk me into the house when I got home. If I got home--my eyesight was kinda bleary.
Well, obviously I made it, because here I am, the morning after, slumped at my computer, and writing a blog about my adventure. I'm sore, drained, and much the wiser. Don't get me wrong, I love all the activities in which I participated...next time though, I will think things through and only do one at a time.

Share the Books

2012-01-10T06:09:00.000-07:00

Have you ever read a book that inspired you?

Read a book that brought tears to your eyes?

Read a book that got you to take action?

Read a book that turned your life inside out?

Have you ever given someone a gift for no reason but to inspire them?

I read that on Facebook the other day, and was instantly gripped, not only because my answer to all those questions is Yes, and I am passionate about books, but because that was the introduction to a piece asking for people to take part in a "Share the Books" flash mob. And being in a flash mob is on my bucket list.

A Flash Mob is a large group of people who gather “spontaneously” in a public place, perform an unusual act then quickly disperse. My favourite examples include the Hallelujah chorus in a mall food court and this dance from Liverpool Street Station because I go there often and would have loved to see it. It's not always singing or dancing however. It might be something as simple as freezing in place for four minutes or a spontaneous pillow fight.

"My" flash mob is going to be giving away books that we love. We will all go to Trafalgar Square in London at a designated time, and for a few minutes we will read books which are special to us for some reason, or have meant a lot to us. Then, at a pre-arranged signal, we will all give our books to a total stranger with a note explaining what the event has been about. And then we all go home again knowing that we have maybe inspired someone else, and certainly enriched their life.

I'm very excited about it, and I'm roping in a few friends to join me. The only question is, which book shall I choose? I have loved so many books. I'm considering Vanity Fair, The HitchHikers Guide to the Galaxy, Pride and Prejudice, Twilight, The No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency, Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Going Postal (Terry Pratchett) and several others. Religious texts are not allowed (it's not a proselyting exercise) so which book would you choose? Which book has changed your life so much that you want to give it to someone else so that it can change theirs?

DREAMS OR GOALS

2012-01-05T05:00:00.009-07:00

It's probably safe to assume a large proportion of bloggers will blog about New Year's resolutions this week. Not me. I don't make New Year's resolutions. I tried it a couple of times, but it never seemed to work out. I am pretty good, however, at setting goals and actually achieving them. They just aren't linked to the New Year.

When there's something I want to accomplish I set a goal, doesn't matter the time of year, but I have a few requirements for setting goals. First the goal has to be something I really want to do or achieve. Then there must be specific steps I must take to reach that goal and here's the important part. The steps must be measurable. Suppose I set a goal to follow an exercise program. It does no good to say I'm going to exercise more often. It's necessary to be more specific; I'm going to exercise five days a week by riding my exercise bike for thirty minutes each day at the rate of six miles each half hour or I will run three miles in forty-five minutes, four days a week. Next keep a record. Jot down each days accomplishment on the calendar or in your journal so you can see your progress. This method works for scripture reading, gardening, cleaning house, losing weight, or even writing. Set the goal, break it down into measurable steps, keep a record. For many people reporting to a friend, family member, or your facebook friends helps keep the motivation going. Do it together if you have a friend or family member reaching for the same goal. Also if I mess up one day, it's not the end of my goal, I just continue on the next day.

Everyone should set a few long term goals that require considerable effort. I'm convinced working hard for a long term goal brings inner strength, a sense of personal satisfaction, and builds self esteem. In many cases it also makes us more sensitive to the efforts of others which I consider a character improvement. When I left journalism and set out to write a novel I set some goals: Write a minimum of two hours, six days a week, read something every day, take a class on writing fiction, join a writers' group, research agents, submit a manuscript to an agent within one year. I actually did all of that and in the process I set more goals: get a really first class unabridged dictionary, determine which areas of my writing were open to editorial change and which were standards I wouldn't change even for a contract, and the list goes on. I had a lot to learn about contracts, marketing, editing, book signings, etc. Each was a challenge that called for a goal. With all I've learned about writing fiction, I think some of those first goals are still the most important---write something every day and read something every day.

I've learned I'm better at short term goals than long ones so I keep the long ones to a minimum. I keep a list of at least four or five things I plan to do each day in my head--I used to write these lists down and sometimes I still do if it's a long list. I find I get more done if I have a plan of action for the day though I have a permanent list of priorities in my head, too, and if one of these priorities comes along, I have no qualms about bumping one, two, or even all of my daily goals in order to meet the needs of one of those priorities.

With all of this goal setting, or possibly resolutions, it's important to remember a happy life requires some spontaneity. Some time should be left to see life through the eyes of a child, read a book, watch the birds, and dream a little.

So dear friends, this month let's talk about goals (or resolutions if you like). Let's also talk about hopes and dreams for the new year. They're not the same thing you know. Hopes and dreams can be goals if they're pursued in a realistic way, but as long as they're just in our heads and not a matter of action on our part, they stay in the realm of fantasy, pleasant thoughts, or - well- dreams.

RESOLUTIONS! Is this the year I finally keep one?

2012-01-04T08:33:00.003-07:00

Every year I start off with such high hopes and high expectations to reinvent myself and make improvements in my life. By the third week of January I begin to slip and by February I'm usually back to my old habits.

But not this year!!! (I know, I know, famous last words) This year I'm going to make a resolution and keep it. Because I only have one resolution.

To do better.

Yes, that's my resolution. I know it is vague and there are absolutely no parameters or possible ways to measure improvement, but hear me out. I already know what I should be doing. And most of the time I do "pretty good" with the really important things in my life, but I need to just do all of them better. Temple attendance, reading scriptures, being organized, consistently writing, balancing my duties and time with my family, keeping up with my housework . . . the list is quite long, but these are all things I strive to do daily, I just need to do them better.

I googled TOP TEN RESOLUTIONS and have to say I was impressed with the list. If the list is a representation of what people really care about then maybe our world really isn't going you know where in a handbasket.

Here is the list.

1. Spend More Time with Family & Friends

2. Fit in Fitness

3. Tame the Bulge

4. Quit Smoking

5. Enjoy Life More

6. Quit Drinking

7. Get Out of Debt

8. Learn Something New

9. Help Others

10. Get Organized

Let's make 2012 the year we really accomplish the things we set out to do. Just think how much better our world would be if everyone kept their resolutions?

Good luck! And Happy New Year!

Possibilities!

2011-12-30T07:33:00.002-07:00

I love the New Year! I love fresh starts. I love being able to say "last year was okay. It was good, but this new year will be better." I still make resolutions or set goals, whichever term you choose to use. I actually did pretty good with them this year, and none of them included losing weight or exercising more or eating better. They included more time working on my family history, entering data into Ancestry and Legacy so I can get rid of the boxes of paper taking up space I could use for other things. And finding more info so I could perform temple ordinances for them. Practicing the organ so my arthritic fingers will still be able to play for sacrament meeting each week was one I stuck to diligently.

I also have a section in my New Year's plans for things I'd like to do and places I'd like to go; experiences I'd like to add to my life. Last year it happened to be the biggest on my list was one of the few I accomplished - the Panama Canal cruise. We did get to the Shakespeare Festival, but not to the things closest to us: the biggest Buddha in the US which is only an hour's drive from here - maybe two in traffic. History and other cultures fascinate me, so I love to immerse myself in them from time to time. Gardens of the World is just one hour - you'd think that would be a piece of cake to make, but I didn't really want to go alone and hubby loves his golf. He did give me some coupons for Christmas to cash in when I want to go somewhere so there is hope this year for that one.

I have to do some thinking about the section in my New Year's plans for "Things I've Never Done." In my 70 plus years, I've done a lot. Now is not the time to slow down and rest on my laurels. I still have so much living and accomplishing left to do! But that section will have to wait a couple of weeks. I just finished the ghost story (still doesn't have a name!) and I'm beginning final edits. My exciting new year will have to wait until I get this year's business finished.

Happy New Year to all - and may your wishes and dreams and goals all be fulfilled.

3-2-1 2012

2011-12-29T11:14:00.002-07:00

Three days until the beginning of 2012, and I am filled with expectation and a slight case of trepidation. After experiencing some sad and troublesome things in 2010 and 2011, I worry about the possible shadows lurking in 2012. I must keep reminding myself to live one day at a time. I want to take each day and live it through; I will laugh with gusto, gain strength from adversity, and learn from life's lessons.
It's also important to re see the world around me. I've always been a big lover of nature, and I vow to spend more time in 2012 hiking into the nearby majestic mountains and filling my soul with serenity.
I will break away from my busy schedule and spend time with friends and family (especially my daughter). My friends have always been able to lift my spirits and my daughter can make me laugh so hard that my sides ache.
I will learn to do something new. Perhaps I'll finally learn Tai Chi, which would be good for my physical and emotional health.
I will eat more apples.
I will eat less sugar.
I will celebrate getting older.
I will look forward with faith.
I do believe in the "eternities" where there will be no time, no minutes or months, and no countdown to a new year.
Until then, I will count my blessings and celebrate another year of possibilities.

There is Hope in my Heart

2011-12-27T05:59:00.000-07:00

Christmas is over. After weeks preparing, planning and looking forward the day, it has come and gone. We are still eating up the turkey (turkey pizza tonight, turkey fricassee tomorrow) and catching up with all the wonderful TV we recorded, and the children are still thrilled with all their new toys - more thrilled than I am at trying to figure out where we're going to put them all.

Christmas is over. The children go back to school on 3rd January, the same day I go back to work. And then we have three months of feeling cold and wet before the first signs of spring and lighter evenings start to breathe life back into the world. It's times like this I wish I could hibernate. (Or fly to Florida for 12 weeks.)

Christmas is over. But I'm not feeling quite as deflated as usual this year. In fact, I'm feeling somewhat buoyant. Tomorrow I am going to the Temple with my best friend. The following day, our family are going to Leeds (halfway across the country from us - a four hour drive) to visit family for New Year. So there's plenty to look forward to still, and I'm excited about the new start and new opportunities and challenges 2012 will bring.

One of my favourite new songs of this season is "When the Thames Froze" by Smith & Burrows. The tune is beautiful and the poetry is unusually good for song lyrics. It includes these lines:

"Another year draws to its close
And tired London slows...
So tell everyone that there's hope in your heart
Tell everyone or it'll tear you apart
At the end of the Christmas day
When there's nothing left to say.
The years go by so fast
Let's hope the next beats the last."

Since my personal "Annus Horribilis" in 1996, each year has indeed beaten the last for me, and I do have hope in my heart that 2012 won't be the exception. The wonderful spirit of Christmas is something that those of us who know the Saviour we celebrate at that time can keep with us each day, and it does fill us with hope. So Christmas may be over, but the hope it brings us isn't.

Letter about Christmas

2011-12-23T09:55:00.002-07:00

I've been troubled about a small group of folks who wish to take the Savior's name out of this joyous season. My friend sent along this special letter to me and I'd like to share it with you. May you all have a wonderful Christmas and Happy Hanukkah! Gale

Letter from Jesus about Christmas

It has come to my attention that many of you are upset that folks are taking My name out of the season.

How I personally feel about this celebration can probably be most easily understood by those of you who have been blessed with children of your own. I don't care what you call the day. If you want to celebrate My birth, just GET ALONG AND LOVE ONE ANOTHER.

Now, having said that let Me go on. If it bothers you that the town in which you live doesn't allow a scene depicting My birth, then just get rid of a couple of Santas and snowmen and put in a small Nativity scene on your own front lawn. If all My followers did that there wouldn't be any need for such a scene on the town square because there would be many of them all around town.

Stop worrying about the fact that people are calling the tree a holiday tree, instead of a Christmas tree. It was I who made all trees. You can remember Me anytime you see any tree. Decorate a grape vine if you wish: I actually spoke of that one in a teaching, explaining who I am in relation to you and what each of our tasks were. If you have forgotten that one, look up John 15: 1 - 8.

If you want to give Me a present in remembrance of My birth here is my wish list. Choose something from it:

1. Instead of writing protest letters objecting to the way My birthday is being celebrated, write letters of love and hope to soldiers away from home. They are terribly afraid and lonely this time of year. I know, they tell Me all the time.

2. Visit someone in a nursing home. You don't have to know them personally. They just need to know that someone cares about them.

3. Instead of writing the President complaining about the wording on the cards his staff sent out this year, why don't you write and tell him that you'll be praying for him and his family this year. Then follow up... It will be nice hearing from you again.

4. Instead of giving your children a lot of gifts you can't afford and they don't need, spend time with them. Tell them the story of My birth, and why I came to live with you down here. Hold them in your arms and remind them that I love them.

5 Pick someone that has hurt you in the past and forgive him or her.

6. Did you know that someone in your town will attempt to take their own life this season because they feel so alone and hopeless? Since you don't know who that person is, try giving everyone you meet a warm smile; it could make the difference.

7. Instead of nit picking about what the retailer in your town calls the holiday, be patient with the people who work there. Give them a warm smile and a kind word. Even if they aren't allowed to wish you a "Merry Christmas" that doesn't keep you from wishing them one. Then stop shopping there on Sunday. If the store didn't make so much money on that day they'd close and let their employees spend the day at home with their families

8. If you really want to make a difference, support a missionary-- especially one who takes My love and Good News to those who have never heard My name.

9. Here's a good one. There are individuals and whole families in your town who not only will have no "Christmas" tree, but neither will they have any presents to give or receive. If you don't know them, buy some food and a few gifts and give them to the Salvation Army or some other charity which believes in Me and they will make the delivery for you.

10. Finally, if you want to make a statement about your belief in and loyalty to Me, then behave like a Christian. Don't do things in secret that you wouldn't do in My presence. Let people know by your actions that you are one of mine.

Don't forget; I am God and can take care of Myself. Just love Me and do what I have told you to do. I'll take care of all the rest. Check out the list above and get to work; time is short. I'll help you, but the ball is now in your court. And do have a most blessed Christmas with all those whom you love and remember

I LOVE YOU,
JESUS

MY CHRISTMAS CARD TO YOU

2011-12-21T20:43:00.001-07:00

Christmas cards are a custom that seems to be slowly dying. I find this kind of sad. I've always loved getting and sending cheery little messages at Christmas time. Unlike some, I also love long, chatty Christmas letters and feel a little disappointed when a card arrives with only the sender's signature. Yet even I cut my card list in half this year. Unfortunately sending large numbers of cards has gotten too time consuming, too expensive, and like most other people I've found I can save time, money, and reach out to more people via the internet. Close family and friends whom I won't be seeing during the holiday season got cards, particularly those who never or seldom check email or Facebook. For everyone else, this is my Christmas card and letter. That doesn't mean you matter less; it simply means you're younger, more computer savvy, and more accustomed to computer communication with me than to paper communications.

If you read my blog, you already know the highlights of my year have been a new granddaughter in April, the release of If I Should Die in June, a trip to the Shakespeare Festival and to Touacahn in July, a reunion with my siblings and their spouses in October, and the purchase of a new car in late fall. I've attended soccer games, piano recitals, a dance concert, and celebrated birthdays with my grandchildren. There have been cookouts (sometimes cook-ins due to the past year's crazy weather), family dinners, ward dinners, and the acceptance of my next book Heirs of Southbridge slated for a March release. Below are a few pictures taken during this past year. On top of everything else, there has been the ongoing problem with knees that no longer cooperate and numerous shots to delay surgery on them.

So now that the chatty part of this Christmas letter is over, I want to wish you a merry Christmas and tell you how grateful I am for the people who read my books, my Meridian column, my blogs, and even my Facebook posts. Most of all, I want you to know that though I love the songs of Christmas, the whole Santa thing, spending wonderful time with my children and grandchildren, becoming involved in service projects, and giving presents; the Christmas Season means more than that to me. I cherish most those quiet moments, found most often in the temple, when I contemplate the awesome events of the night Christ was born, when I feel deep in my soul the enormity of God's gift to us.

May each of you be blessed with peace, hope, and an assurance of Christ's love as we commemorate His birth and as you embark on the coming year.

Sharing my cruise with you

2011-12-16T07:02:00.002-07:00

The cruise from the Pacific to the Atlantic through the Panama Canal was incredible! Weather in Cabo San Lucas was hot and sunny. Water azure blue - Land's End and Poseidon's Arch just what I hoped! That had been on my bucket list, but wasn't sure I'd ever get to see it. I loved it, but Cabo is too expensive to spend a lot of time there! This was my first time anywhere in Mexico but the border towns and very different.

Puerto Vallarta was fun - also hot - expensive - beautiful! Didn't get in the water there. Visited a beautiful old church, walked on the new "boardwalk" which is really a wide curving picturesque sidewalk along the bay where everything happens. We were bused up into the mountains to see a UNESCO World Heritage site in Mismaloya - A Tequila Factory! Also stopped above the site where "Night of the Iguana" was filmed. There were not even roads into the site at the time. They brought everything into the pretty little bay by boat. Everything is so lush and green with huge trees of every kind and exquisite flowers of every hue.

Puntarenas, Costa Rica and the rain forest was lovely- also hot and humid but a great experience. We were bused to the top of the mountain, walked on suspension bridges above the rain forest for awhile, then worked our way down to the bottom of it. The little town of Puntarenas was nothing - quite poor in direct contrast to the resorts in Cabo and Puerto Vallarta. But our tour guide was delightful and gave us all the history and lowdown on her beloved country. We did get to see lots of crocodiles. Our boat man got out, almost wrestled with a huge monster, then put some fish in his mouth, bent over toward the crocodile and the behemoth snapped it right out! We thought he was going to lose his head!!

The Panama Canal was probably the highlight for Glenn. He spent the first part of the cruise reading David McCullough's book - 750 pages about the building of the canal - so it was very meaningful for him. What an engineering feat! We sailed through from the Pacific into the Atlantic - took about nine hours but didn't get to stop in the city which may have had more high rise buildings than Los Angeles!

Cartegena, Colombia was really special because Shelley (youngest daughter) was working in Colombia that week auditing the huge mine there (one of the biggest in the world) and flew up that morning to meet us at the big famous fort - one of the oldest in South America. She arrived an hour or more before us but chatted with the natives until our buses arrived. She said she'd look for the buses of old people - but that's all there was - bus after bus of old white-haired people! :) She spent the day with us seeing Old Town, the Fort, New Town, neat churches, learning about emeralds - we didn't buy any!

Then we dropped her off at Old Town and went back to the ship and she shopped a couple of hours, caught her plane and flew back to Bogotá, then to Miami, then home - arrived just in time to go to work the next day. This was the port they told us "If you aren't with an organized tour, don't get off the ship." Shelley worked with a girl from there (had been with her all week) who said Cartegena was one of the safest cities in South America because the President of the country loved to be there so he made sure it was safe. I loved it. It was my favorite city. I could spend a week there - all the beautiful old Colonial buildings and feel of history. But we learned that Michael Douglas didn't really jump off that fort in Romancing the Stone (Hollywood trick) because there is no water around it! They also had lots of high rise buildings surrounding the bay.

We were really blessed there - it had been pouring buckets of rain for the preceding nine days. That morning the clouds cleared and we had beautiful warm sunshine. Really warm! Then as our ship pulled out of port and back into the Caribbean, the rain began again. We were worried that Shelley's flight wouldn't be able to take of!

Next stop was Grand Cayman and this was really a super treat! We got into that incredibly azure blue Caribbean water out on a sand bar miles from shore and fed the sting rays! You hold a piece of squid in your fist, thumb tucked down, and they swim right across your hand and suck it up. I got a massage from one - our guide picked it up and held it to my back and it fluttered those marvelously soft fins across my back. The water was so fantastic we didn't want to get out! We had probably 25-30 sting rays swimming around us. The only problem was you couldn't bounce around. You needed to keep your feet planted in the sand, but the waves kept sweeping me off my feet! If you step on one, they will sting you with that long tail, so we did have to watch the tails!

Then they took us to another area over some coral reefs and we got to snorkel and watch the multi-colored fish swim in and out of the beautiful different kinds of coral. The white sand on the bottom was like sugar! What a day! We ended up going to Hell, a little tiny town with a post office and a patch of very sharp volcanic rock poking up, then a turtle farm which was fascinating! They had the world's largest (as far as they know) green sea turtle who has laid over 10,000 eggs. 80% of them have hatched. We were blessed again. They said if we had arrived on any one of the previous four days, we would not have been able to go out in the water because of the terrible weather they had been having!

Got back on the ship and steamed into Tampa Bay the next morning and after two excruciating flights home, we arrived to rain and snow! So much for Sunny California! But no complaints. We had our two weeks of "paradise." Now to prepare for Christmas, which can't possible be just next week! Merry Christmas to you all! And may you have a delightful cruise in your not-too-distant future.

A British Christmas

2011-12-13T05:08:00.000-07:00

[This is the text of an article I wrote and which appears in the current edition of Latter-Day Woman magazine. Apologies for not coming up with something original - at least this version has more pictures.]

Why would anyone want to go to Britain for Christmas? Let’s face it; it’s a cold, wet, overcrowded island and it’s a ten-hour flight away. All the tourist attractions will be closed, and even when they are open you’ve got less than eight hours of daylight each day to enjoy them in. The perilously narrow roads and roundabouts will be icy and even more treacherous than usual, and a night at a London Marriott for a family of four will cost you over $1,000 per night.

And if you like festive fluffy snow at Christmas, stay in Utah. Snow is relatively rare in Britain in December, and when it does fall it’s the wet, mushy kind that chills you to the bone, refuses to form into snowballs, and soaks anyone stupid enough to try to make a snow angel in it.

So why come to Britain in for Christmas?

On this side of the Atlantic we haven’t had a big whole-family-gathered-round-turkey-feast celebration since last Christmas (as opposed to last month) so we are ready to party, especially since Christmas decorations have been in the shops since September sparking a slow-build of glorious anticipation. (Not to mention some rolled eyes and complaints about over-commercialised consumerism.) We don’t do Halloween with quite the gusto the Americans do, our version of Thanksgiving is a barely-there harvest festival in September only really acknowledged in primary schools, and we don’t have 4^th of July. (The calendar jumps straight from the 3^rd to the 5^th.) So if you want to get that sense of Christmas being the absolutely second-to-none best ever day of the year, you need to come to Britain.

Over here it’s not “the holidays” or “the festive season”. We only wish people “happy holidays” when they are flying off to sunnier places (almost anywhere). We are not afraid to offend others by wishing them a “Merry Christmas”. Recent attempts by politically-correct types to stop schools doing nativity plays (we are allowed to sing hymns and say prayers in schools) have largely failed because the Muslim, Sikh and Jewish parents were quite vocal about enjoying this long-standing tradition. So if you want a group of six-year-old shepherds with dressing-gowns and tea-towels on over their school uniforms to wish you an unashamedly Merry Christmas , you’ll have to come to Britain.

Growing up, my mother always made the brandy butter on Christmas Eve while listening to Nine Lessons and Carols from King’s College, Cambridge on Radio 4. Most churches, including LDS Wards, have a carol service on Christmas morning, and many have several other special services in the prelude to Christmas. The most popular, however, is Midnight Mass, a vigil service to welcome in Christmas day. This is generally fairly well attended, despite the fact that only 6% of Brits go to church regularly. Possibly it’s because the Parish church is a warm place to go when the pubs close. If you want to enjoy the candlelight, singing and anticipation in a church which has stood on the same spot since 600 AD, you’ll have to come to Britain.

Apparently Father Christmas used to wear a green suit trimmed with white fur, but at some stage he saw himself depicted wearing red in a Coca-Cola advert and decided that red suited him far better. My own children have always been rather afraid of him. I think, being people of the twenty-first century, they are very suspicious about a man who likes to creep into children’s bedrooms in the middle of the night, even if he did claim to be doing so in order to leave presents in the stocking on the end of their beds. My eldest asked her father and I to wait up for Father Christmas, divert him from the chimney, and take the presents into her bedroom ourselves for her to open noisily at 2 a.m. With heavy sighs, we agreed. Unfortunately Father Christmas is very ageist and he doesn’t come to adults, so if you want to wake up to the amazing feeling of your legs being weighted down with wrapped gifts, you’re out of luck.

Christmas lunch is almost always a huge turkey (which will yield several days’ worth of leftovers) with all the trimmings – roast and mashed potatoes, roast parsnips, Brussels sprouts (sometimes with chestnuts), sausages and pigs in blankets, roasted onions and those old stalwarts, carrots and peas. Naturally there will be stuffing both in the turkey and in little roasted balls, cranberry sauce to go with the turkey, bread sauce to go with everything and oodles of thick gravy. Before we can carve our turkey, however, there are Christmas crackers to be pulled. These guarantee immediate bonding as you pull them with your neighbour at the table, hoping for a satisfying crack. Crackers always contain a paper party hat, a really corny joke, and a small cheap novelty such as a plastic spider or a keyring. Once silly hats are on heads and jokes are groaned over, the feast can begin. But if you want to enjoy a roast parsnip smothered in bread sauce, or pull a cracker, you’ll have to come to Britain.

Christmas day dessert is a little complicated for a Latter-day Saint. The traditional dishes of Christmas pudding, Christmas cake and mince pies are all laced with copious quantities of alcohol. Instead I make a yule log – a swiss roll covered in chocolate buttercream icing – and I usually make it on Christmas eve. I must remember, this year, to listen to Nine Lessons and Carols on Radio 4 as I do so. If you want to enjoy the moist, chocolately goodness of my yule log, you’ll have to … email me for the recipe. I have nine people to cook for this year, I’m not inviting you too.

After lunch we waddle into the lounge and switch on the television. The Queen’s speech is shown on several channels simultaneously, and in our house at least is greeted by everyone commenting on how old she looks, forgetting that the pictures they are used to seeing of her – on notes, coins and stamps – are somewhat sympathetic or just plain out of date. Following the Queen’s speech, the BBC generally pulls out all the stops with the biggest family film of the year. I’m predicting the latest Harry Potter this year. The BBC is funded by everyone in the country having to pay for a television licence, so there are no commercials. So if you want to settle down with the family to watch a great film with no one trying to sell you anything at crucial intervals in it, you’ll have to come to Britain.

There are always Christmas specials too. Doctor Who is the most eagerly anticipated, and it seems not to have occurred to the nation that it’s rather contrived for an alien time-traveller to insist on spending Christmas in London every year. (Perhaps he’s read this article.) There may also be a new Wallace and Grommit, or hilarious motoring show Top Gear, and the BBC’s mandate mean there will have to be a high-quality religious offering, but it will all be fabulous family viewing to guarantee that everyone spends Christmas afternoon and evening glued to the television. There’s nothing else to do after all – the shops will be closed for another two days at least. If you want to spend your Christmas afternoon browsing the sales, you’ll have to stay in America.

Tea on Christmas day is cold turkey sandwiches. Assuming anyone can eat. And then on Boxing Day (the next day, and another public holiday) it’s the same again. Television, and turkey curry/fricassee/casserole. Because Christmas day falls on a Sunday this year we then get another public holiday in lieu on Tuesday 27^th. So if you want to … no, why would you? Who needs three days off over Christmas anyway?

You might then like to pop up to Scotland for Hogmanay. I hear that’s very good too.

Why I Never Took Part in Another School Christmas Pageant

2011-12-12T10:29:00.000-07:00

This time of year has always been one of my favorites. As a child, (and an adult) I thoroughly enjoyed decorating the house, making Christmas cookies, and singing Christmas carols.Taking part in Christmas productions at school was another highlight that filled my heart with Christmas cheer.

One year while I was in elementary school, I was asked to portray the part of Mary in the school play. This could've been because I was one of the few girls my age who still had long, dark hair, (Pixie cuts were all the rage that year) but I also suspect the fact that my aunt happened to be my teacher had a lot more to do with it. ;) Regardless, I was thrilled and during rehearsals, I strived to live up to the expectations of this starring role.

The day of the much anticipated performance finally came. The night before I had been so excited, I could hardly sleep. When I woke up, I experienced waves of nausea, and was terribly unamused. This couldn't be happening. I was supposed to be Mary that day!

I quickly dressed and hurried into the kitchen. Then I sat down on a chair to keep from collapsing onto the floor. By then I knew I had caught a vicious stomach bug that had been going around the school for a couple of weeks. The thought made me sicker than I already was. People were depending on me--I had a starring role. I had looked forward to this event for weeks and I wasn't about to let my uncooperative body ruin things for me.

Somehow I made it through breakfast--with the help of our family dog. I slipped her most of what was on my plate that morning. My mother had been so busy getting everyone else ready for the day that she hadn't noticed I was tilting sideways. It wasn't until she was helping me fix my hair for the play that she caught on that I was a bit pale. She asked if I was feeling all right and I assured her I was fine. She then counseled me to quit being so nervous, assuming that was the cause of the slightly green tint, and she continued helping me get ready.

I'm amazed I survived the bus ride to school. Plagued by a tendency to develop motion sickness under normal circumstances, the added nausea from the stomach bug was almost more than I could bear, but I was so determined to be the best Mary this school had ever seen, I gritted my teeth and forced my body to behave.

I arrived at the school, and hurried into the girls restroom where I splashed cold water on my face to ease the queasiness. Then I went into the classroom and laid my head down on my desk to make the world quit spinning.

Now I realize I shouldn't have attempted taking part in the school production that day--but in my seven-year-old mind, this was the most important thing that had ever come into my life. I had been picked to portray Mary, the mother of Jesus. It seemed like my entire world was centered on successfully seeing this part through to the finish.

The rest of that morning is pretty much a blur. I do remember my aunt asking if I was feeling all right, and I gave her the same answer I had shared with my mother earlier: "I'm fine." Then I forced a weak smile, hoping it looked convincing.

During lunch hour, I nibbled on a piece of bread, then when the lunch lady wasn't looking, I gave away most of the food on my tray to my friends, and threw the rest into the garbarge. My friends assumed I was experiencing a form of stage fright, and were only too happy to consume the special treats that had been prepared for us that day.

It was finally time for the production. All of our parents (mostly our mothers since our dads were still at work) arrived to cheer us on. I quickly dressed in the traditional Mary costume, experiencing a mixture of excitement, extreme nausea, and a bit of nervousness. This was the biggest part I had ever been assigned in a school production and I was determined to give it everything I had.

My mother sneaked in to where I was getting ready to make sure I was doing okay. She again commented on how pale I was and asked me a final time if I was all right. Assuring her that I was, I picked up the doll that would be playing the part of Jesus that day, and we hurried back into the room where everyone else had gathered.

The play progressed nicely that afternoon. All went well until it was time for me lay the baby Jesus into the small manger. Then disaster struck. The nausea I had been doing my best to ignore would no longer be denied. When I realized my body was taking the driver's seat, I dropped the doll into the manger, and ran off the small stage, but didn't quite make it out of the room in time.

Mortified by the mess I had made . . . of everything . . . I ran into the girls' restroom to hide. My mother followed, and graciously helped me clean up. My aunt took care of the new carpet I had all but ruined in the other room. I heard later from some of my friends that she had not been amused by my performance, and was upset by the condition of the new carpet. (It was a brand new school we had moved into that fall. I have the honor of being the first kid who stained some of the new carpet.)

Later when I was lying in the comfort of my bed at home, I pulled a pillow over my face and cried, convinced I had ruined Christmas for everyone. I had shamed my family in a public fashion, desecrated the role of Mary, and ticked off my aunt. My life was in ruins . . . or so I thought.

My family rallied around me, my parents and younger siblings (I was the oldest in our clan) offering sympathy and love despite my less than stellar performance. My brother even commented on how cool it was that I had barfed in front of everyone. Boys always see things differently, even at that young age.

By Christmas Eve, I was feeling better, and my mother asked me to play the part of Mary in our own family production of the traditional Christmas Story. Donning a different costume (the other one was understandably thrown away) I gravely did my best to portray the mother of our Savior. With my brother playing the part of Joseph, our younger sister representing the shepherds, and our baby sister taking the part of the infant Jesus, we solemnly acted out the miraculous birth of our Elder Brother. My dad read from the book of Luke, and our mother furnished the piano accompaniment for songs like "The First Noel," "Silent Night," and "O, Little Town of Bethlehem." The only one in the audience that night was our chihuahua, Teeny, but she seemed very impressed by our performance.

I've never forgotten the sacred feeling I experienced that night. Though my life was in shambles, I still felt the love of our Savior during that Christmas season. And by the time I returned to school to start the new year, everyone had moved past my unfortunate performance . . . with the exception of my aunt who still had a pained look whenever she glanced my direction . . . and a young boy my age who was as impressed by my eruption as my brother. He later asked me to be his girlfriend. ;)

I learned some great lessons from that experience--the importance of never pushing one's body past the point of no return, boys are weird, and the love of our Savior is very real. May we all reflect upon His great love for us, and share it with others this holiday season. MERRY CHRISTMAS!

The Multi-cultural Holiday Dilemma

2011-12-07T19:08:00.002-07:00

In the main entry a large Christmas tree reached almost to the ceiling and in the office a smaller tree stood on the counter that separated students from the school secretary. Someone taped a cluster of mistletoe above the wide arch that led to the cloakroom. Minutes after the second bell rang files of junior high students left their homerooms one class at a time to make their way to the school's large auditorium to rehearse for the annual Christmas assembly. Every homeroom class took a turn---except mine.

I was in the eighth grade when I learned not everyone observed Christmas. My homeroom teacher was Jewish and refused to participate in Christmas or Easter observances. Those of us in her class felt cheated. We wanted to be part of the assembly even if all we did was join in singing carols. It was hard to study and learn grammar rules while all of the other students in the school were in the auditorium rehearsing, goofing off, and having fun. We did get to attend the assembly with the principal and assistant principal sitting with our class, but were painfully aware none of the talented singers or dancers in our class set foot on the stage.

Over the years many events have brought glimpses of understanding concerning that awkward Christmas. Certainly a non-Christian school teacher should not have been required to participate in that assembly; I've never felt any animosity toward her for her refusal to be part of something she didn't believe in. She was, in fact, an excellent teacher who did much to encourage me and her many other students. However, I have wondered at times why a few parents weren't asked to chaperone our class and help us to be participants in an assembly that was a big deal back then.

A few years later in another community, I noticed a handful of students sitting in the library with their textbooks open before them as the rest of the students made their way to the auditorium for a Christmas program presented by a traveling university group. I knew those students were Jehovah's Witnesses and a few were Jewish. I found something sad about them studying while the rest of us were enjoying a delightful program.

These two instances were a stark contrast to another school I attended where every student was required to take choir, all thirty four of us. It was a small school. If anyone checked, we probably represented a half dozen or more different faiths as well as including a Native American and a couple of atheists and our choir director was the Baptist preacher from a nearby town. We sang at his church, at the LDS church, at the Catholic Church, and at several other protestant churches. We sang for naturalization ceremonies, graveside services, Easter Sun Rise Services, and Christmas programs. It was one of the richest experiences of my school years.

In today's political climate too often the solution to mixed faiths and observances has become outlawing all such observances. No one's God is allowed in school. That's sad. Our lives and our culture will only be strengthened and enriched by learning more of other cultures and the faiths of other people. To shut away our history and religious traditions hurts more than helps world unity.

I visited a beautiful historical church in San Antonio a few years ago where the priest conducted a short service for us, but knowing most of our group weren't Catholic he quoted some well-known nondenominational poetry in place of prayers. I was disappointed and couldn't help contrasting that service with the solemn warmth of a Christmas mass I attended once with a friend where the service was steeped in hundreds of years of spiritual custom . My mother-in-law was a registered nurse. In an attempt to be fair to everyone, the hospital administrator assigned everyone to work on Christmas Day, but a Jewish nurse went to Mom with a suggestion that my mother-in-law trade her Christmas hours for the other nurse's Hanukah ones. As a young reporter, I and my family were invited to a Lutheran Church for their festival of lights, Santa Lucia. It was a choice experience my small children have remembered and occasionally speak of, though they are parents themselves now. I believe attending other churches and honoring other faith's traditions leads to understanding and openness between various peoples.

When I worked for the City Library, I spent a number of years at a small branch library on the west side of Salt Lake City. Our patrons were very diverse since that seems to be an area where refugees settle first when they come to Utah. It was fun to share the excitement and enthusiasm of our youngest patrons as various cultural and religious holidays arrived. I particularly remember a little Vietnamese boy, who never stopped chattering, trying to explain to a shy little Muslim girl, who never spoke to anyone, why the library ladies had a tree with lights on it inside the library. Children have no problem observing every feast or holiday and inviting other children of different cultures to join them and they are anxious to learn about different celebrations. We adults should be more like that. We should welcome opportunities to share our traditions and beliefs and we should embrace occasions when we can be part of other cultures' and denominations' observances. The peace and understanding most faiths claim to seek can best be found through sharing our celebrations, not by hiding them away for fear some might be offended. We should go the second mile to enable others to observe those occasions important to them too. Not only should no one be pressured to observe a religious holiday they feel uncomfortable with; neither should anyone be kept from openly participating in observances they find important. Diluting a religious observance to something non-denominational isn't the answer either. Our culture can only benefit from sharing the events we find significant rather than hiding them from public view.

Being a Lifeline

2011-12-06T13:48:00.002-07:00

My daughter borrowed my car the other day to drive from our home in Sandy up to Park City. It's about a 45 minute drive and luckily the weather was good that day. On the way home she called to chat and as we were talking she suddenly realized that the low fuel light was on, and she had no idea how long it had been on. There's a button in my car you can push to see how many miles you have left before your tank is empty. She had 7 miles left. If you've ever driven down Parley's Canyon you know that there aren't a lot of places to get gas. In fact, there aren't any. The closest gas station was just off Foothill Boulevard but she had no idea how many miles until she got there. I stayed on the phone, knowing that all I could do was pray with her and assure her she was going to make it (although I had no idea if she really would, I just wanted to help her stay calm). As we talked she counted down the miles as they dropped lower and lower. When the tank showed 2 miles she noticed a sign for the I-215 belt route. I knew it had to be close, but would she have enough gas to make it? 1 mile left. There was the sign for Foothill Boulevard. Just as the tank showed 0, she saw the Chevron station. On fumes, she pulled up to a gas tank and both of us heaved sighs of relief.
There are people in our lives that are always there for us. People we know we can count on when we find ourselves between a rock and a hard place. We, in turn, are able to be that person for others, someone they can depend on when they need help, support, love or just a safe place to unload their burdens or share a laugh.
I'm so blessed to have wonderful people in my life. The women of this blog are unconditionally loving and supportive. They've shared in joys and sorrows, successes and failures. How grateful I am for sisters and sisters-in-law's that I know will always be there for me, drop everything to help me. How grateful I am for daughters and a daughter-in-law, who are caring and loving and my best friends. How grateful I am for my sweet son who can make me laugh harder than anyone I know. And how grateful I am for my husband who supports me and love me, no matter how insane I get.
I hope that I am as much of a strength to others as they are to me. Who are those people in your life? Make sure you remember them at this time of year.

A Journey into China

2011-12-01T09:25:00.008-07:00

Yesterday I attended the funeral of Elder H. Grant Heaton, a brilliant man whose noble accomplishments deserve recognition. I had the privilege of interviewing he and his wife for my book on China, Letters in the Jade Dragon Box.

In 1949 Grant Heaton was one of the first missionaries for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints to be sent to Hong Kong, China. When the communists seized control of China in late 1949, Elder Heaton would serve out the remainder of his mission in Hawaii and Chinatown, San Francisco. A few years later, after schooling, marriage, and the birth of a son, Elder Heaton would find himself in, what he considered, strange circumstances. As a missionary returned from Hong Kong, he had been called several times to meet with Elder Harold B. Lee and Stephen L. Richards, counselor to President McKay, to discuss and evaluate the conditions in the Far East.

In his words. “Still a few weeks later, I received a call from President Richard’s office, requesting another meeting. It was almost the same as the first, except he did wonder, out loud, if it would be possible for me to go to Hong Kong this summer. I assumed that he wanted me to accompany one of the General Authorities, or even a new Mission President called to re-open the area. I knew that President Robertson had been urging for some assistance to continue operations in Hong Kong, which was then part of his “Japanese Mission”. I told President Richards that I would be delighted to go to Hong Kong for the summer. He asked if my wife would be willing to go. Because Grant Jr. had just been born, I suggested that I talk to her about it first. He asked me to return in one week for another discussion.
As we entered President Richard’s office, President J. Reuben Clark was there, and in a few moments President McKay walked in. He was very jovial, and made a great fuss over little Grant Jr. playing and laughing with him for some time.
Finally, seated in his large swivel chair, he turned and looked at me, and said, “Now President Heaton, this is a very important assignment. I have long been interested in the Chinese people and the missionary work there.” For the first time it dawned on me that all this was leading up to me being called as a Mission President. My first reaction of shock and disbelief, impelled me to say, “President McKay, I am neither capable, nor worthy to be a Mission President.” He very causally replied, “Oh, we are perfectly aware of that, Brother Heaton.” Our official call came in the mail a few days later.
Our next surprise was to become aware of the immense territory covered by this new Mission. President McKay said it was not only the largest Mission in the Church, but it contained more people than the rest of the world combined.
In subsequent meetings with the First Presidency, we learned how deeply President McKay’s interest in China really was. At the time we were set apart, it was mentioned that several attempts had been made in China, in failure. “This time we will not fail,” he promised!”

The Southern Far East mission began in Hong Kong with eight eager missionaries being led by a very capable Mission President, and being fed by a loving “Mission Mom.” Over the next months and years the gospel net was tossed wide as Cantonese and Mandarin were learned, lessons given, and baptisms performed. President and Sister Heaton would see the hand of the Lord in the missionary work, growth of the church, and in miracles for their family. President Heaton would be instrumental in securing floors of apartment buildings to serve as Branch chapels, and in purchasing a sizable piece of land in Kowloon for the mission home.

In later years when Gordon B. Hinkley was searching in vain for property on which to build the Hong Kong temple, the following experience is recorded in his biography. “Something very interesting came into my mind…I did not hear a voice with my natural ears, but into my mind there came the voice of the Spirit. It said, ‘why are you worried about this? You have a wonderful piece of property where the mission home and the small chapel stand. They are in the very heart of Kowloon, in the location with the best transportation. Build a building of several stories. It can include a chapel and classrooms on the first two floors, and a temple on the top two or three floors’…I relaxed and went back to sleep.” (Go Forward with Faith pg. 481)

The Hong Kong temple was dedicated May 26 &27, 1996. One year later, 1997, as the 99 year lease agreement between Britain and China expired; Hong Kong went back to the jurisdiction of mainland China. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints would have a temple in a province of communist China.

At President Heaton's funeral, as words of tribute and love were spoken, my thoughts turned to the times I sat in the Heaton's living room, hearing many of the missionary stories and absorbing gems of wisdom about the Chinese culture. I remembered the feelings of love and respect this good couple had for the people of China. Through my research I was privileged to open a small window onto that beautiful landscape with its amazing people. My soul is richer for the journey.

Never "Meet" your Heroes

2011-11-29T06:46:00.000-07:00

[You'll notice from this post that I've just learned how to do links on Blogger and, like a child, I'm playing with my new toy at every opportunity.]

My favourite radio show (Simon Mayo on Radio 2) has a book club. Every two weeks they interview an author and invite listeners to read the first chapter on their website. Other listeners, from a pre-selected panel, have already read the book, and give their reviews. It's fascinating to find out how the writers go about researching and structuring their books (yesterday's featured author was Conn Igguldon who had been to Mongolia in order to get a feel for the location of his historical epic about Kubla Khan, and found it "very like Wales") and naturally you get to know quite a bit about the authors themselves.

I may be shallow, but it actually matters to me what those authors are like. I want them to be nice people. I was delighted to learn that JK Rowling had donated a vast amount of money to the campaign to find Madeleine McCann because, like the rest of the world, I love Harry Potter, and for some strange reason it mattered to me that the creator of Hogwarts was a nice person. I have already blogged about Enid Blyton and how finding out that she was an adulterer and an uncaring mother has affected my enjoyment of her books, and my likelihood of reading them to my children.

I particularly enjoyed, then, the interview with Sir Terry Pratchett who proved to be just as delightfully eccentric and personable as I could have hoped. And I liked Anthony Horowitz so much when I listened to his interview that I am suggesting one of his books to my book club. Barbara Taylor Bradford came across as rather aloof and unfriendly, so I won't be going out of my way to buy her books.

The biggest shock, however, was Terry Deary, author of the Horrible Histories books which my middle daughter loves so much she has developed a fascination with history generally. Admittedly he wasn't on Simon Mayo's show (and I hope Simon never invites him) but his interview in Radio Times was little short of offensive. He was arrogant, objectionable and at one stage dismissed a keen 11-year-old fan saying, "How dare people come to me?" He was scathing about other highly respected historians and writers, and even such venerable and admired institutions as Radio 4 and the nation's schools. Interviewer Rosie Millard, herself a venerable and admired institution, does her best to redeem him by mentioning his charity work, but by that time I loathed the man so she might just as well not have bothered.

So there are nice authors, and not-so-nice authors, and you really can't tell much about the personality of the writer by reading their book. But I really hope I can be a nice author. It's so distressing and disappointing for fans to discover that someone who had created so much reading pleasure is not deserving of their adulation.

A New Exciting Way to Read Books Online

2011-11-28T13:20:00.001-07:00

A few weeks ago I was contacted about an exciting new website, something called, Big World Network. This online reading service is provided at no cost. Anyone interested can read or listen to books that will be posted as a weekly series. Each week another episode or chapter from the book of your choice will be featured. This is similar to how popular series are followed on television, but in book form.

Books are rated based on content, which is a handy way to know if a certain book is one you would be interested in reading, or listening to, compliments of the audio form that is also available. Currently, fifteen books are listed for perusal. E-mail subscriptions are also being offered, which is a handy way to be notified when the next installment of the book you've selected is available. This way you will have immediate access when the next chapter or episode is released.

For writers, this is another way to expose your newest work to online readers, increasing the readership for your books. Submissions can be sent to this website for possible inclusion on their website.

I think this is a great way for new writers and established writers alike to secure online exposure, and an exciting new twist to online reading. Be sure to check out the website on this link: Click here and see what you think about this new online venue.

TODAY IS A DAY TO GIVE THANKS

2011-11-23T21:35:00.000-07:00

As I was shopping for a few last minute items I forgot when I did my Thanksgiving shopping, the yams I selected shot through the bottom of the plastic bag and scattered all over the floor. As I bent to begin picking them up, a boy tore off a plastic bag and began gathering them up for me. When he finished, he set them in my cart, I thanked him profusely, and he hurried off to join his mother. The boy was probably somewhere around ten or twelve and I'd never seen him before. He had no way of knowing how much my knees hurt or that I'll soon be having surgery on them. I'm not only grateful for his act of kindness, but I'm thankful there are young people in this world who are growing up with kind hearts, the kind of future leaders my generation can safely trust with the responsibilities they will face as tomorrow's decision makers.

I've found myself thinking lately about Mrs. King, my third grade teacher who taught me something of the history of Thanksgiving. With big paper buckles on our shoes and pilgrim hats and bonnets on our heads or a feathered headband and beads, we sat down to a Thanksgiving feast of apples, raisins, and some kind of bread similar to fry bread. Even now I remember the song she taught us to sing before we began our feast.

Bless this house, O Lord we pray.

Keep it safe by night and day.

Bless these walls, so firm and stout

Keeping want and hunger out.

I know, the song wouldn't be acceptable in today's classrooms, but I'm glad it was in mine.

I've talked all month, as have many of you, about those things, large and small, for which we are thankful. Today I'll only add my gratitude for good food, family to enjoy it with me, and a warm home to shelter us from the cold. May your Thanksgiving Day be as filled with love and warmth as mine.

Thanksgiving

2011-11-18T13:36:00.002-07:00

It's so interesting the things we're thankful for at different times in our lives. I remember being eternally grateful for nap time and bedtime. I remember being grateful for the energy to run up and down three flights of stairs all day long doing laundry and housework. My 4 year old daughter finally sat down on the stairs and said, "Mommy, can't we just sit down for a few minutes? My legs are tired." When I said she didn't have to come with me on all those trips, she reminded me that she wanted to be with me---all day long. Not just sometime.
I remember feeling gratitude for phone calls in the middle of the night telling me my husband had landed safely in some far part of the world. And I remember crying with gratitude when I finally received letters from my missionary son (after six weeks of not hearing from him) telling me that he had been sent into a new area to open a district, and oh, by the way, it was actually head-hunter country in the heart of Venezuela, but don't worry, Mom. I'll be fine.
I'm making a Shutterfly book of our tiny son who only lived 14 short months and I remembered today for the first time in ages (funny how we put painful memories out of our minds as much as possible) feeling a sense of relief and gratitude when the Lord took him home so he didn't have to suffer anymore, didn't have to have tubes sticking out of his frail little body, then feeling guilty about those feelings.
The Thanksgiving we spent in Armenia was frigid. My gratitude knew no bounds for the small space heater we could afford to have in our little apartment. We moved it from room to room - from our kitchen to our office to our bedroom. Our electric bill was more than all the other residents in our entire building put together because we were Americans with money. They had no employment, little opportunity at the time to make enough money for luxuries like that. Most of them had a wood burning stove they set up in their living room, piped the smoke out a window, and used whatever wood they could scrounge for heat. A war with a neighboring country resulted in their gas being cut off and that had been their major source of heat. Their electricity had been cut off so people just went to bed when it got dark. Some had to walk up 14 flights of stairs in the dark - no windows in the old Soviet Style apartments. I was grateful we arrived after the nuclear power plant was repaired and we at least had electricity! We had hot water for a shower because the Church had installed a tank above the shower which we could fill when the water was on from 5 - 7 a.m. We had to fill all our pitchers and containers during those hours to have water during the day.
I'm so grateful for the experiences and adventures we had in Armenia. Everyone in America should have that opportunity so they will truly appreciate what an incredible country we live in and how magnificently blessed we are.
And what am I grateful for today? For my children who are raising their children in the gospel and are upstanding citizens. Every mother prays for that. I know how blessed I am. And I still pray for one errant daughter that she will return to the flock. I'm grateful for health and strength and energy to fulfill my callings - and for those callings that keep me working on talents that might otherwise gather dust and be lost. And even those that take me out of my comfort zone! :)
I'm grateful for a husband who has loved me for 55 years and put up with me for 53 years of marriage. He is my best friend.
The blessings of belonging to the Church simply can't be calculated; they are far too numerous, but I'm thankful for a Father in Heaven who loves me, who knows me, who needs me to do His work, and helps me do it.
Every Thanksgiving we play a little game. I type the letters that make up the word Thanksgiving and run them down the page leaving a line for everyone to write on, and I print up one for everyone. They all get to tell what they are thankful for that begins with that letter. I can't wait to do it again this year because I have so many new blessings that I didn't have last year and it's very important to count them and acknowledge them, every one. And not the least of these will be all the technology that allows us to do things like this to stay connected!

Research in Paradise

2011-11-17T11:44:00.003-07:00

I'm in Hawaii (Maui) doing research for my next book, and right now you're probably sending out wishes for a whale to eat me, or something. I understand, and trust me, I am not complaining. The weather here (though overcast), is shirtsleeve warm, while in my hometown it's cold with a chance of snow. But, researching in paradise is not an easy thing. It's difficult to pull one's mind from the soft allure of the ocean and the warm sun to sit in a library in Kahului and read a slew of non-fiction books with no charming hero or involving mystery.

In the 10 days I've been here I've only been swimming once. You have no sympathy for me, do you?

I love the book, Gift from the Sea, by Anne Marrow Lindbergh, where she talks about taking her pencils and pads of paper to the beach with the intention of writing, but instead of accomplishing anything she finds her mind drifting with the sound of the waves and her imagination lulled by the warm sand. It's so true.

Okay, I feel no compassion heading my way, so I guess I'll go eat some papaya and head off for the Maui Historical Society where I'll spend three hours pouring over old documents and maps. I know, save my tears, right?

Aloha!

Time Kills Books - Or Does It?

2011-11-15T04:00:00.000-07:00

I've got a new book coming out shortly. It's called No Escape and it's a romantic thriller about a newly widowed New York cop who tries to escape his grief by taking part in an exchange program and going to rural North Wales. There he meets a tough single mother who hates everyone and trusts no one, and finds himself charged with protecting her as she becomes embroiled in some nefarious activities through her drug-dealing brother.

I started writing the book about fifteen years ago when I was working in an office next door to Bangor Police Station and met a couple of the drugs squad officers there. The book describes the local area in considerable detail and yesterday, mid-way through editing, I decided it would be fun to remind myself of the place I lived for so long via Google maps. You can imagine my disappointment as I discovered that the police station, bus station and Students' Union, which all feature heavily in the book, are no longer there. In fact, where the police station and my old office stood is now a shopping mall. So it's not published yet, but my book is already out of date. Luckily I'm guessing my primarily American audience will never realise that the locations I describe in an obscure Welsh city no longer exist. Ssshhh! Don't tell them!

The inexorable march of time also gave the lie to my last book, Honeymoon Heist. Part of the book describes the pearl factory where Rodney, my hero, is able to make a pearl necklace for his wife. Guess what? Last time I went to Majorca I discovered that the pearl factory is now little more than a shop, with the actual pearl making going on behind the scenes, and customers are no longer allowed to craft their own pearls as they used to.

There's a possibility that my first book, Haven, may be republished next year, but I've lost the original manuscript (it was about three computers ago) so I'm having to scan it in from the hard copy book. This affords me a unique opportunity to bring it up-to-date and, despite only being ten years old, it really needs it. In one scene the children are playing with an electronic game - remember them? Now I've upgraded it to a Nintendo DSi. And in an early scene when Gwen settles down to listen to the scriptures on tape, now it's a CD, but even that will be out of date soon and there may already be some readers who wonder why she doesn't have them on her iPod.

The printed word dates very easily and it's rare to get an opportunity to update it like this, but I don't know that it matters much. When watching reruns of Buffy the Vampire Slayer I don't wonder why Buffy didn't just call Willow and Xander on her mobile phone to tell them where the weirdo-of-the-week has imprisoned her. I understand that everything is of its time, and I like to think that readers recognise that the book in their hand is a snapshot of the world as it was when the book was published (or, in the case of No Escape, ten years ago). My daughter had just discovered Enid Blyton, whose books are horribly dated (not to mention frequently racist, sexist and patronising), but it doesn't stop Angharad loving them.

So while time may make all books go out of date, it also adds something - it reminds the reader of how things were in the year on the flyleaf, and that may sometimes be a real history lesson.

Walking the Tightrope of Diabetes

2011-11-14T07:36:00.001-07:00

Lately I've been trying to get all of my proverbial ducks in a row, with regard to health. I am a Type 1 diabetic--a challenging condition I've endured for 31 years. Some would say that I've beaten the odds to live this long with diabetes and not have any major complications. To them I would have to say: "Attitude is everything!" ;)

I do not have perfect control of my blood sugar levels--the closest I ever came to that goal was during three pregnancies that produced three healthy sons. During that era, I kept a food diary, recording everything I ate, what time I ate, how much insulin I gave, how much I exercised, and what all of the food counts were. In short, I gave each pregnancy full attention and did amazingly well, all things considered.

Most days I simply do the best that I can. I try to balance carb counts with insulin and mix in exercise to counter fluctuating levels. The challenge for most of us who deal with this disease is the fact that everything affects our blood sugar levels. If I have a cold, my level runs rock bottom low, no matter what I do. If I have the stomach flu--that level runs high, even though I can't usually eat anything. If I'm in severe pain, the level runs low. If I have inflammation anywhere, it runs high. During the summer months, my levels run lower because of the heat. And as you might guess, during the winter months, those levels soar, so on and so forth. I was also told that there will days when "insulin bubbles" (Insulin the body stores for some strange unknown reason) can randomly burst, causing an insulin reaction from hades without warning.In short: this is a challenging disease and there are days when you feel like throwing your hands in the air and walking away.

For numerous years, I ran a diabetic support group for the diabetics in our county. I did this with the help of a very good friend who was also a Type 1 diabetic like me. The support group was actually Denise's idea. Once we both started seeing the same specialist who gave us "HOPE" for a brighter future--more so than we had ever received from any other doctor, she wanted us to share that positive message with other diabetics who were also struggling.

We met during monthly meetings at the nearby city hall, and later in a special room at the local hospital. We provided special inservice meetings with doctors, nurses, etc. We ran booths at the two health fairs held annually in our community, and met with newly diagnosed diabetics to help them realize they could live a full and productive life despite this illness.

You can imagine how Denise's death earlier this year affected us all. (She was 49) I've heard from a few of the younger Type 1's that we tried to help. Some are in panic mode. "But you two said we could live a long, normal life!" Etc. & so forth. After Denise's death, my blood pressure soared for a time, something it has never done before. (My blood pressure has always been good: most days it clocks in at 110 over 70.) And I've experienced a couple of other health glitches that have made me realize I need to slow down . . . a lot . . . at least for now.

Dealing with Type 1 diabetes is like walking a tightrope. One slip can mean a painful consequence, and unfortunately, complications, and sometimes death. We keep trying to move ahead on that thin wire, knowing that each step we make is crucial. Our balancing tools include: checking our blood sugar level often, counting carbs, and working in a bit of exercise. We all try to do the best that we can, and not allow ourselves to get overwhelmed in the process.

I've found that regardless of the challenge, attitude is everything, as stated above. Stress of any kind causes my blood sugar level to run high. So I have to keep stress to a minimum. Maintaining a positive outlook aids this process greatly. And I've started something new the past couple of months--I meditate each morning for about ten minutes. My version of meditation probably varies from the world's, but it works for me. I spend ten minutes listening to soothing music (usually "Calm-Meditation" from Pandora) and watch a computerized slideshow of nature shots that I've taken through the years with my trusty camera. I focus on my breathing and attempt to relax my entire body. I can't believe how much better I feel each day. The best news: my blood pressure level has returned to normal. My blood work was in the normal range last month. Now I have to tackle getting my blood sugar levels back under better control.

I am determined to continue walking this tightrope called diabetes. =D It's rather lonely, carrying that baton by myself now (someday Denise and I will talk about how she bailed on me in an untimely manner) but I have to think that it was simply her time to leave this mortal sphere. We've both endured too many near misses in the past to ever think otherwise.

My new goal: To live another 30 years with this challenging condition--thus proving to our younger Type 1's that this can be done. For a while, I may be cutting out other things to bring my life into better focus. (My entire family has been trying to teach me a handy two-letter word for years, something I'm finally starting to use.) I'm no longer trying to be "Wonder Woman," as I simply strive to be "Tight-Rope Girl." And in the end, perhaps the two titles will combine as I work harder than ever to stifle the effects of this disease.

AN ANNIVERSARY OF SORTS

2011-11-10T08:32:00.000-07:00

Sitting at the table in the breakfast nook, I like to watch the birds that visit our birdfeeder. The smaller birds; the sparrows, the finches, the chickadees, and such flit in troupes from the trees to the feeder, to the fence, to the bushes, and back again. Entertaining and fun, they're constantly on the move and squander their energy on following the crowd. The doves stick to the business of eating as they plant themselves under the feeder and scoop up all the seeds the busy smaller birds knock off the narrow edge. They grow fat and complacent feeding off easy pickings. A number of other birds; magpies, crows, woodpeckers, robins, hummingbirds, those that don't congregate in flocks or depend on the feeder make brief appearances, eat quickly while keeping a wary eye out for danger, search out a few worms or bugs in the garden, then hurry on their way. Another bird that is a regular visitor to our backyard is a hawk. When the hawk appears almost all of the birds make a mad dash for safety. Unfortunately a few burrow deep into the pine limbs as though hoping to remain invisible to the predator; they usually wind up being the hawk's lunch.

Some writers are like those sparrows. They're so busy flitting about between conferences, web sites, Facebook, and other places where writers congregate, they get little writing done, almost no original research, and expend all of their energy running about, hanging out, and wishing. If they actually reach the point where they submit their work to a publisher or agent it suffers from a lack of attention to detail, more dreaming than actual work, or a myriad of other shortcomings. A few cower in a corner, never getting brave enough to actually submit a manuscript or search for an agent. Their talent dies from a lack of courage.

Some writers are like the fat doves, content to live in their make believe world and do little to actually get published. They're content with whatever falls their way. They may get published, but they never reach the heights they might if they worked harder and had more motivation.

Some writers are more like the robins and woodpeckers who show up for a few communal sessions, work hard, then go on to the next opportunity. They scope out the market, draw their material from multiple sources, and take personal responsibility for their success or failure. Like the hummingbirds, some work extra hard, and are a blur of color and industry.

Now where does the hawk fit into this picture? There are a number of parallels I might draw here. There are a few writers who like to puff out their chests and let everyone know they're bigger and better than anyone else. They thrive on cutting other writers down. Occasionally the hawk might be the person who is too big for the feeder, too proud to pick up what falls on the ground, but takes savage delight in writing nasty critiques or reviews to kill the work and confidence of others who are a little vulnerable or insecure. (I've yet to meet the published writer who isn't still a little vulnerable and insecure.) And sometimes the hawk is the talented individual whose talent and hard work makes it possible to soar above the ordinary.

In the ten years I've been writing reviews for Meridian, I've read over a thousand books, met scores of writers, and watched writing careers that have soared to great heights and lost sight of writers whose careers have dropped out of sight. I've seen great talent squandered through sheer laziness and I've seen writers who succeeded in getting published through hard work and persistence in spite of limited natural talent. I've cheered when a deserving author got a big contract and I've cried when a talented author received rejection after rejection. I've been uplifted; I've been bored, I've been informed, I've endured, and I've been entertained in the most delightful ways. To all of you, thank you. You've made this past ten years memorable for me. And I hope you don't mind, if while I stare out my window, I name a few birds in your honor.

Why passion in writing is important

2011-11-05T13:13:00.002-06:00

I promise this is the last blog I'll do on writing with passion. I'm giving a presentation at our local library this afternoon with our local authors group and remembered there were a few thoughts here that I didn't offer the last blog on passion.

Passion in writing is as important as good grammar. You need to feel a passion for your subject, for your characters, and for the process of writing itself. If writing is drudgery for you, you can pretty well bet reading what you’ve written will become drudgery for your reader. Passion brings a spark to your writing which generates an element of emotion within your reader.

A book lover can immediately sense your passion for your work when they read the first few paragraphs on the page. If you don’t have a great feeling for your characters or your subject, you are cheating your reader of a valuable experience.

I love to travel to the location in which my story will take place. I can absorb the ambiance, smell the aromas, feel the kind of wind that blows there, see things that don’t show up on the website or in books. I see and feel things that will never happen if I haven’t actually been to that site.

Every time I do this, I fall in love with the place and I can transfer that passion onto the written page. I take copious photographs and refer to them often to put me back into the scene I’m writing. I pick up brochures and flyers and an occasional book to give me more detail.

When experts tell you to write what you know, you’re fulfilling that in this manner.

This works with non-fiction as well. I have a son and daughter who travel - internationally - extensively - and have had some incredible experiences. She’s writing a book about their encounters in the more than 100 countries they’ve each visited. The passion she has for her subject overflows on her pages and keeps the reader wanting more.

Pour yourself and your emotions into your story so your reader have have that same experience vicariously. That's what reading is all about.

Birthday Boy!

2011-11-03T12:28:00.003-06:00

This week my hubby and I traveled to Southern California to visit with family. One of the highlights was celebrating our great-nephew Jackson's first birthday. We had a grand time going to the zoo and later in the evening eating dinner at an Italian restaurant. Jackson opened presents (well, tore paper) and dug into his chocolate birthday cake (literally).

Smearing birthday cake frosting on one's baby face seems to be a right of passage for most American babies and I think it's precious. Thank heavens for Handi-wipes.

Jackson was a darling all day, and even though the actual reason for the frivolity escaped him, I think he enjoyed being the center of attention. The adults in his life were very aware of the sacredness of the celebration. We knew that Jackson came into the world with some medical problems, and that things were tenuous for a few months. With medical help, faith, and a lot of loving prayers, Jackson grew in strength and wellness. Now, there is not one trouble in his little body. He is a bright, jabbering, walking miracle.

As I looked around the restaurant table at the people dear to me, it was confirmed again that family is the most important earthly blanket that surrounds us. Through the family we pass on love, values, strength, and chocolate cake!

Counting My Blessings

2011-11-02T22:32:00.003-06:00

There’s a book that I keep near my bed. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve read it. Sometimes I read it for the wit and humor, sometimes I read it for the wisdom. But for whatever reason I read it, it’s a book that I count among my favorites.

It’s the book by Kerry Blair called, “Counting Blessings- Wit and wisdom for women” I am sure anyone and everyone who reads the posts on this blogsite has read it, but hoping it’s okay, I wanted to quote a little bit from Kerry’s book. For some reason, this has been going through my mind almost constantly lately.

“As latter-day Saints we are practically obsessed with anxiously engaging ourselves in good causes. Maybe it’s subliminal. Glancing through the hymnal last Sunday, I noted that as sisters in Zion, we who are called to serve are all enlisted to go marching, marching forward because the world has need of willing men to all press on scattering sunshine. We wonder if we have done any good in the world today, because we have been given much and want to do what is right, keep the commandments, press forward with the Saints, and put our shoulders to the wheel going where He wants us to go. However, as the morning breaks high on the mountain top, truth reflects upon our senses, and while we still believe that sweet is the work, we also realize that we have work enough to do ere the sun goes down. And thus we ask Thee ere we part, where can we turn for peace?”

Kerry goes on to not only answer that question, but she talks about that paragraph in a most excellent way. (Rather than me summing up her words, I highly recommend you read it!) As for me, I ponder that paragraph, Kerry’s wisdom, and I have learned from her words as well as her example and friendship.

This paragraph also makes me stop to think about my time management. While I surely want to be anxiously engaged in good causes. I also realize that life can be overwhelming and there are times I am not able to do all that I want to -- sometimes I’m not even able to do anything I need to-- but I am grateful to know where I can turn for peace.

I love this time of year that the season gives reason to stop and reflect on the things in which we are grateful for. The fact that no matter how crazy or difficult life can be, I am grateful there are places where I can find peace amidst struggle.

I am grateful for the blessing of such amazingly good family and friends who lift me up and even carry me through the tough times. They are the same who are there to celebrate and rejoice with me in the good times.

I have far too many blessings to count, but I do know I am grateful for each and every one of them.
　

NaNoWriMo

2011-11-01T06:00:00.000-06:00

I've gone and done something reckless and foolhardy. I've signed up to NaNoWriMo for the first time.

For those not in the know, that's National Novel Writing Month. It should probably be called IntNoWriMo because there is a group right here in Essex holding parties and write-ins in the local library. Last year I resisted joining because I thought it was an American thing, but it seems that across the world there are people who have committed to write a full 50,000 word novel in a month.

Gulp. Now that I write it that seems like an awful lot. I should have signed up for Movember instead, it would probably be easier.

It's not the most convenient month for me, you see, because I will have to spend the first few days of it editing my forthcoming novel, No Escape. And I'm trying to finish two cross-stitch baby samplers for a friend. And I have a job, two blogs and three children, and a weekend away booked, and... well, it's going to be tough, but I am determined to do it. I need to kick-start my writing, and I'm excited about the story I'll be working on.

I've left it rather to the last minute unfortunately by joining on 28th October. Whilst I can't start writing until 1st November, I could have spent the last couple of weeks outlining, plotting, researching, putting together a chronology or making character sketches. Instead I'll be winging it as best I can, but maybe that's part of the fun.

I'll be posting my word count at regular intervals, and since I'm writing a (gothic horror) book for older children, 50,000 words is actually the whole thing. So a month from now I may have a new novel to submit to my publisher. Wish me luck!

Happy Halloween, and Make Room for Thanksgiving!

2011-10-31T08:48:00.000-06:00

Cool, I get to blog on yet another holiday. Halloween has always been one of my favorites. As a child, it meant getting to wear a fun costume, and going trick-or-treating--I.E. getting that important yearly stash of candy. ;) It also meant the beginning of the holiday season. Even as a child, I understood that once Halloween had come and gone, the traditional turkey day, Thanksgiving, was just around the corner, and then the all-important event, Christmas!!! It was indeed a fun time of year.

As an adult, I can truthfully say that I still enjoy this time of year. Fall has always been one of my favorite seasons. It's not too hot (especially when it snows early on) and the trees are gorgeous in the nearby canyons. Plus as the holidays approach, one by one, I get to decorate for each occasion, and fix fun food.

My oldest son came home over the weekend and he was pleased to see that despite the craziness of my life at the moment, I had still managed to decorate the house for Halloween. True, my decorations possibly fall into the "sappy" category (I tend to go for humor and light-hearted fun, not the morbid stuff that is also available for Halloween decor) but that's how I like it.

Tomorrow, I'll take down the Halloween decorations, and put up all of my Thanksgiving ornamentation. Thanksgiving is also an important family holiday for our clan, since some of our ancestors were there for that famed first gathering between the Pilgrims and Native Americans. (We actually have ancestors from both sides of the table.)

I only have one complaint this time of year---have you noticed how Thanksgiving gets crowded out of things these days? In the stores you can see that it's already going from Halloween to Christmas. It makes me want to drag out my little blue stool I use to work in the garden, stand upon it, and protest--"WHAT ABOUT THANKSGIVING?!!!" I was raised with an understanding that this time of year, following the harvest, etc. it's important to offer gratitude for the blessings in our lives. Thanksgiving in our clan has always been of greater importance than Halloween, and almost as wonderful as Christmas.

True, during these stressful times, when most families are being hit with numerous challenges, it can be difficult, coming up with a list of items to be grateful for, but I believe that an attitude of gratitude is crucial to survive the days ahead. I suspect during that first Thanksgiving, hearts were fairly tender. My 11th great-grandmother (Elizabeth Tilley) was no doubt still grieving over the loss of her parents after that first, disastrous winter in the new Pilgrim colony. Her mother perished in 1620, and her father passed away a couple of months later during the January of 1621. I'm sure it was a difficult thing for fourteen-year-old newly orphaned Elizabeth to sit down to a small feast that celebrated life and harvest during the fall of 1621, and yet, she did. She later married another Pilgrim survivor, John Howland, and together they raised a large family that included my 10th great-great grandmother, Hope Howland. I'm sure this young lady was aptly named. ;)

So as Halloween activities wind down after tonight, let's all take a moment to consider the blessings in our lives. Make room between Halloween and Christmas for Thanksgiving. Today's wordly wisdom would have us skip over this important celebration of gratitude. Perhaps if more of us protested this trend, our nation would notice that Thanksgiving is much more than another chance to feast. It is a time of year when we need to extend our gratitude to the One who makes everything possible in our lives.

WRITING 101

2011-10-27T08:34:00.000-06:00

Recently I taught a class at the Book Academy and was surprised by how many people in my class had no idea what the scene/sequel sequence is. Judging by some of the disjointed books I've read over the past year, I'd guess a lot of people don't understand this simple method of writing. In case you're interested, here are the basics to this writing method.

To begin with, the scene half of the method consists of three parts.

Goal: This is what the point of view character wishes to accomplish. (Don't confuse this with the writer's goal; their goals may be and usually are quite different.)

Dilemma: This is where the point of view character works through a plan for reaching his or her goal and attempts to carry out that plan.

Disaster: This is where something or someone wrecks the plan or in some cases the point of view character may achieve the goal but getting what he/she wanted can itself be a disaster for various reasons.

A scene is always shown from one character's point of view. No head hopping allowed.

Next comes the sequel which also consists of three parts. It is usually in the same character's point of view, but can be in another character's point of view. If handled right, there can be more than one reaction following one after another from multiple characters' points of view, but not jumbled together.

Reaction: This is where a character reacts to the scene's disaster. It may be as brief as bursting into tears or as long as needed to show the response to the disaster.

Re-evaluate: This is from the same POV as the reaction and is where the reacting character works out a method of dealing with the disaster, determines that something has to be done, and considers ways of dealing with obstacles.

Resolution: This is where the POV character makes up his/her mind to do something specific to correct the disaster. This resolution may become the goal for the next scene which may or may not follow immediately, but should be the goal of a future scene where this character is the POV character.

Following this method is a great way to create a logical sequence to a story. It eliminates the annoying habit some writers have of jumping from one character's head to another until the reader has no idea who is thinking or saying anything. Consecutive scenes may be from different points of view, but a great deal of confusion and annoyance can be avoided by remembering to stay in one character's head until a scene or sequel is finished. A scene or a sequel can be as long or as brief as needed. An entire chapter may consist of one sequence or it may contain several. I find I average about three to a chapter, though this varies.

Another advantage to using this method is the help it gives in overcoming writer's block. If a writer is stuck, I've found it works well to take a blank sheet of paper, space these six steps down one side of the paper, then jot down a brief outline of what needs to happen at each of these steps.

Some writers use this method to outline an entire book on paper. Others only use a mental form of outlining, but still follow these steps. It's an effective way to write, especially for new writers. More experienced writers often work out a variation of this method, but still adhere to one scene/one head.

Don't Stop, Don't Give Up

2011-10-26T09:49:00.007-06:00

The other day someone posted a YouTube video on Facebook that had a darling little girl singing a song from the kid's show, "Yo Gabba Gabba" called, Don't Stop, Don't Give Up. Not only was it just plain adorable but the message ran through my head all day. Then, I was at Walmart, grabbing groceries and I walked past a shirt that said:

I've always taught my kids that if you set a goal and you are willing to work hard and never give up, you can make it happen, you can make that dream come true.
I believe it with all my heart. After eleven years and 67 rejection letter I began to think I would never get a book published, but I decided to submit a manuscript one more time. After all the work, persistence and preparation, it finally got accepted.
My daughter, Kendyl, proved me right last Saturday night when she won the Miss Utah USA pageant. The look on her face says it all. On her fourth try, she finally made her dream come true.

Sometimes we stand in our own way of making our dreams a reality. Our doubts and fears create barriers and sabotage our success. Challenge yourself, dare to dream, don't stop and don't ever, ever, ever give up!

Talents--what are they, really?

2011-10-25T13:20:00.002-06:00

Recent discussions with friends got me thinking on the subject of talents--we've probably all heard it before but I think, as women especially, we need reminders.

The scriptures tell us that we are all blessed with talents, diverse and varied, and we are expected to do something with them. A few years ago, I was involved in my ward's Enrichment Night celebration of talents. There were a wide array of us, sharing the things we'd accomplished and basking in the glow. We had a combination of writers, artists and composers.

There was a problem.

I heard later that one of the sisters told her husband she'd never attend another meeting like that one because she came away feeling like such a loser. According to her own assessment, she couldn't write, draw, paint or compose music. Ergo, no talent.

This couldn't be farther from the truth.

Not all talents produce a physical, tangible product. A loving Father has blessed us with talents both outwardly impressive and quietly crucial. Drawing on experiences of women I know, I'm going to show you what I mean.

Woman "A" is a stay-at-home mom with three beautiful kids. She's younger than I am and really has her stuff together. She has a testimony but knows how to relate in the "world," to find joy in the world. Her children are smart, the house is amazingly decorated, she cans food, knits beautifully (and learned only last year!) and gives attention to her callings while still maintaining an awesome homefront. She does these things on a shoestring budget as her husband finishes grad school. She knows who she is and is comfortable in her own skin. She's also incredibly funny and sarcastic. This makes me love her even more.

Woman "B" is dependable, gracious, lovely and generous to a fault. She cares for others despite her own illnesses. She volunteers, serves, takes care of family, delivers beautiful fireside messages, writes roadshows, and often crashes when it's all said and done because her body often can't keep up with her spirit. Now granted, she is a writer and that's one of those talents we're not discussing here, but take away the writing piece and she's still one of the most amazing people I know.

Woman "C" is one of the most beautiful and glamorous people I know in real life. She has four gorgeous kids and a gorgeously decorated home. She is put together at all times, in all things and in all places. Her attention to detail is second to none and her taste is impeccable. She is also one of the most genuinely nice people I know. I mean NICE. The first time I met her she was new in the ward and came to visit teach me with her companion. I made a snap judgment upon first clapping eyes on her, only to have it dissolve within the first five minutes of conversation. I've known her for years and that has never changed. She is genuine, classy, smart, funny and so very kind. She is more beautiful on the inside, even, that trust me, that's saying something.

Woman "D" has five children and she and her husband want one more. She is runs a home of delightfully chaotic organization and is an awesome mom. She plays with her kids, she is calm about spills, she loves her current role and is doing a darn good job with it. Having so many children and running an efficient house are skill sets that I do not possess. I have only three children, two of which are nearly adults, and I still can't find socks or a room in my house that's consistently tidy and organized.

I could go on with women "E" through "Z," but I hope you see where I'm going with this. Kindness is a talent. Organizational skills are a talent. Amazing church and community service, that is a talent. As are the following: compassion, dedication, dependability, charity, a strong work ethic, humble spirituality, seeking for and attaining knowledge, the ability to make others smile, a good grasp of life's priorities, etc.

Those talents that aren't so easily visible in terms of outward appearance are those I refer to as "quietly crucial." They are the crux of life, for they almost always mean some sort of service to others, whether in the community or within the walls of our own homes. Love is usually the root motivator, and love is pure.

Now. Let's say you've always wanted to be a photographer. Or to learn to sew. Or write poetry or your life story. Your life story in poem form. Just because you didn't leave the womb as an expert in these areas, does that mean you shouldn't try? I believe that we should spend a lifetime examining and reaching for talents we may not even know we have. We should do what we can to learn about the topic and then not be afraid to try it.

Woman "A" I mentioned above learned to knit last year. She is amazingly good at it. And we have another friend who is THAT MUCH MORE amazingly good at it, and she also just learned how to knit last year. So let's say we have me, we'll call me "good." We'll call Woman "A" "better," and we'll call Amazing Knitting Prodigy Woman "best." Does this mean I don't have a talent for knitting. No. What it means is that if I want to continue to grow and develop this talent, I must work at it. Just because my talent doesn't have me at the top of that particular game doesn't mean I don't have the talent for it.

Talents take work. With the possible exception of Mozart, I've not heard of anyone whose talents didn't require practice and honing. And truthfully, Mozart certainly progressed throughout his life--he didn't write Eine Kleine Nachtmusik at the age of 8. (Although he did write other music that I can't begin to replicate at the age of 8. Let's not talk about him anymore.)

In the New Testament we find the Parable of the Talents. One man did amazing things with his, the second man did good things with his, and the third man buried his talent. Talents, in this story, refer to currency, but the point is the same. If we bury it, it stays as it is and is of benefit to nobody--not family or friends, and not ourselves. Certainly not to our Father, who gave us those talents in the first place.

I have homework for you. Your job tonight (or tomorrow night, or anytime this week you have a few free minutes, but for sure before Sunday) is to make a list of your talents. I'm not talking about the ones that produce something tangible. First you start with you, and you list the things you ARE. Then continue the list and write down those things you produce. Maybe you're really good at canning or gardening. Maybe you can put together an awesome scrapbook. Maybe you read the newspaper front to back each day and can tell me exactly what's going on in Libya. Perhaps you know how to sew aprons on a machine. Perhaps you can give one heck of a presentation to your boss and colleagues, with or without the Powerpoint. Maybe you're the one in the office who remembers everybody's birthdays or notices when someone is down and you buy them an African Violet. Unless it's a man who's down...you buy him a chocolate doughnut.

You keep this list in your journal, and if you don't have a journal, you grab a notebook or staple some computer paper together and start one. And perhaps on the other side of this list, you will write down a few things you'd like to do, a few talents you'd like to grow. We may have talents buried that need digging up.

Grab a shovel!

On Becoming Better

2011-10-21T06:07:00.002-06:00

In a 1996 BYU Devotional, President Hinckley gave a challenge to youth, which of course, includes all of us. (I'm only chronologically old, but my spirit is still very young.) He said:

"You are good. But it is not enough just to be good. You must be good for something. You must contribute good to the world. The world must be a better place for your presence. And the good that is in you must be spread to others.

"I do not suppose that any of us here this day will be remembered a thousands years from now. I do not suppose that we will be remembered a century from now.

"But in this world so filled with problems, so constantly threatened by dark and evil challenges, you can and must rise above mediocrity, above indifference. You can become involved and speak with a strong voice for that which is right.

"You cannot simply sit in your laboratory or your library and let the world drift along in its aimless way. It needs your strength, your courage, your voice in speaking up for those values which can save it." (Pres. Gordon B. Hinckley, Sept 17, 1996)

When I think of the world being a better place for my presence, it is totally overwhelming. What kind of difference can I make? I'm an insignificant nobody! Then the Spirit whispers that I have raised a family who are all contributing to make the world a better place. And each kind deed I do really does make the world better for that person who was the recipient of that deed. As I teach my Laurel class each Sunday, I'm trying to instill in them good values and set a good example for them as they watch what I do in my personal life.

I'm trying desperately to finish this ghost story by Thanksgiving but yesterday my husband was rebuilding our patio and he needed my help to hoist the big pieces of lumber onto the braces. I made his world a lot better by listening for the saw to finish, then run out to help him before he struggled to lift the heavy wood by himself. Result: two pages accomplished inside. A healthy, happier uninjured husband outside. Then we laughed while we cleaned the tar off each other when we finished. Our marriage was also improved. The world was a better place.

Today I had the entire day marked off to write. But a friend who suffers from incredible pain wanted to go to lunch. She hasn't been to church for weeks because of her pain, so how could I turn her down now that she is feeling improved enough to venture out? Sometimes just the smallest of sacrifices on our part can make the greatest difference to someone else.

I will never claim to be a great writer but if my meager efforts at storytelling can help someone through their painful chemo and radiation treatments, I'm delighted. If I can provide something wholesome instead of worldly for a teenager to read, I'm happy. If I can lift the spirits of a sister who is struggling, I'm content that just maybe I can make a difference, and the world will be better because I am here.

Beautiful October

2011-10-20T08:53:00.003-06:00

I live in an area of the United States where there are four distinct seasons, and although the snowy winter and hot summer often stay longer than reason dictates, spring and fall normally parade in splendor. Such is the case with autumn this year. The temperatures have been mild, and because we had such a wet spring, the change of color in the leaves has been breathtaking.

I took a walk in the mountains the other day and found myself assaulted by color: the vibrant reds of the Maples, the luscious oranges of the Ash and Oak, and the delicate yellows of the Aspens. There was a Robin's egg blue sky and a soft breeze. The sojourn was well worth my time and soothing to my soul.

I've tried to share a little of the glory in a picture, but I'm afraid the feeling won't transfer. Perhaps it's time for a walk in nature?

Things You Need to Know about Publishing

2011-10-18T05:40:00.000-06:00

Some comments on my Facebook page made me realise that many people out there - and some reading this - may know very little about the business of publishing. Many of them may look at JK Rowling, Celia Ahern and Dan Brown and figure it's an easy way to make lots of money - see my tongue-in-cheek previous blog on http://annajonesbuttimore.blogspot.com/2011/08/i-think-ill-write-book.html.

So here are some things which may seem obvious to anyone who has been involved in the business, but which many others don't know about publishing:

Write your book first. Or at least, write most of it. Most agents and publishers are going to ask for a completed manuscript, not a proposal. This means that you may be writing it not knowing whether it will ever be published. Accept that the only person who ever enjoys your book may be you.
A full-length novel should be between 75,000 and 100,000 words.
Once it is written, you have a choice about how to publish it. The traditional route involves sending your manuscript, or a query letter about it, to agents or publishers. The other option is to self-publish, either as an ebook through something like Kindle Direct Publishing, or via what used to be called a Vanity press, such as Authorhouse or a smaller indie press.
If you choose to self-publish, you pay for the publication and you do all the marketing. In most cases you design your own cover, write your own blurb, and have complete control over your book. It won't be edited, and it's likely your "publisher" won't even read it. It's hard work, it's expensive, you will lose a lot of money and your book will have no credibility in the market. I am enormously opposed to self publishing - I have already blogged about it here: http://annajonesbuttimore.blogspot.com/2010/08/vanity-publishing.html and probably will again before long.
Assuming you want to be paid for your work, rather than paying for it, you then choose whether to send it to an agent or publisher (or both). Agents will take a cut of your royalties, but they will do all the hard work of selling your book to a publisher, and will probably get you a much better deal than you could get for yourself. Agents tend to be more approachable than publishers, and you will generally need to submit to them by a query letter rather than sending them your manuscript. To get their attention your query letter needs to be some of your best writing.
Do your research first. Check out the websites of agents and publishers, and only send your work to those who are open to submissions in the genre you have written. Check what format they want it in and submit according to their guidelines. First three chapters only? Email or hard copy in the post?
It's extremely rare to be offered an advance for your book - money up front to secure the right to publish. And advances tend to be relatively small - about £3,000 ($5,000). Bear in mind that this is an advance on royalties. Not only does it not mean that you won't get more money than you would with a normal arrangement, but you will need to check whether you have to pay it back should your book not sell as well as expected.
It's more usual once a manuscript is accepted by a publisher to be offered a contract which awards you back 10-15% of receipts, sales or cover price in royalties. But don't plan what to spend it on, because not only is it impossible to predict how well your book will sell and thus how much you'll get, but royalties are, naturally, paid in arrears, so you may not get anything until up to a year after your book hits the shelves.
It can take up to a year from your book being accepted to you holding it in your hands, and there's a lot of work involved during that year, mostly editing and advance marketing. Get used to it - you will be expected to put in your fair share of marketing and promotion of your book.
You can't get too precious about your book. The publisher will design the cover, ask you to rewrite parts, write your blurb and even rearrange your chapter divisions.
Writing will not make you rich and famous. Royalties from most books are not enough to live on, and even Jacqueline Wilson, Children's Laureate here in the UK whose children's books have sold millions, was asked at a party what she did for a living. When she answered "I write books for children," she was asked, "What name do you write under?" If you want to be recognised in the street and asked for autographs in restaurants, act in films, don't write books.

Hope Smiling Brightly

2011-10-15T07:48:00.001-06:00

It would be an understatement to say that life is crazy right now, filled with challenges and heartaches for so many people. Everywhere I look I see neighbors, friends, and family members bravely facing uphill battles as they strive to continue forward on their journey through life.

The trials faced vary: scary health conditions, financial worries, the loss of loved ones, family distress, and in some instances, overwhelming schedules that seem impossible to maintain. The adversary is also pulling out all of the stops to destroy self-esteem, marriages, and families. We are truly living in the latter-days and the war for souls is raging all around us in an intense manner that can fill the bravest hearts with fear and despair.

These days I'm often reminded of a scene from one of my favorite books, "The Return of the King," by J.R.R. Tolkien. Towards the end of the story, all seems lost. Death and mayhem are taking place everywhere as the battle between good and evil rages. As the fight continues, it becomes apparent that the forces for good are dwindling, and yet the survivors cling to the hope that they will triumph, despite overwhelming odds. The way is being paved for the return of the king, who will restore all that has been lost. Keeping that goal in mind, one by one, the main characters of this book push on, refusing to give up, despite the wounds sustained.

One brave small hobbit named Frodo feels as if he holds the fate of the world in his tiny hands. He risks everything that he is to push forward toward a goal that terrifies him, and yet, he knows that is the only way to banish the evil foe that threatens all he holds dear. It takes everything he can do to press on, and he reaches a point where he feels as though he can't take one more step. That is when his trusted friend, Sam, practically carries him up that final mountain. There Frodo battles with himself and finally achieves his goal, his courageous stance halting the adversary in his tracks.

It is my belief that we are all doing our best to climb the terrifying mountains that lie before us. We are not making that climb alone. Loved ones from the other side of the veil are cheering us on, every step of the way. When we stumble, neighbors, friends, and family members walk at our side, helping us to continue on. And when it all becomes too much, we are carried by the One who walked that pathway before us.

The other day as I silently grieved for all that a dear friend is currently facing, the following lyrics popped into my head:

When dark clouds of trouble hang o'er us, and threaten our peace to destroy,
There is hope smiling brightly before us, and we know that deliverance is nigh--

It took me a few minutes to figure out which hymn those inspired words came from. These lyrics are from the second verse of hymn # 19, "We Thank Thee, O God, for a Prophet." The inspired message of that sacred hymn brought a ray of hope into my life, filling my heart with a sense of comforting peace.

It is true: we are led by a prophet of God. If we will heed his counsel, we will not fail. Though our challenges today seem overpowering, we can continue forward with hope in our hearts. We were all saved for this current day for a reason. Our Father knew we possessed the talents, courage, and fortitude that would be necessary to succeed. Step by step, we will triumph, even when the battle rages all around. Through hope, faith, and charity, we will place the armor of God upon us, courageously facing the challenges that come into our lives during this mortal journey. Bear in mind we are paving the way for the return of our King, when all will be restored, and sorrowing tears will be dried. Until that day comes, look for the good. Do those things that will inspire peace of heart and mind, knowing our focus shouldn't rest upon the many wounds we've sustained along the way--how well we embraced hope when all seemed lost is what will matter most.

A GIFT OF LOVE

2011-10-12T19:37:00.000-06:00

Tuesday morning the adoption of my newest, darling granddaughter was finalized. Saturday our family will gather at the temple to be a part of her sealing to our family for all eternity and Sunday she will be blessed. It's shaping up to be a wondrous, happy week.

Naturally my mind has turned often to the miracle of adoption lately. I feel deep gratitude to the young mothers who loved their babies enough to give them two parents and a better chance in life than they could.

I feel a kind of sadness for the television shows and popular culture push for birth mothers who haven't finished school and have no real means of support, to keep their babies. I see young women who are emotionally immature, alone, or trying to escape dysfunctional homes being taught to think "if you keep your baby you'll have someone who loves you", "only a bad person would give away her child", "It'll be so much fun to have a baby," "don't worry about the money; there's government financial help for single mothers," "what will he think of you when he learns he was adopted?" or parents who insist "you can't give away my grandchild." Notice none of these concerns are actually for the baby. Almost always when there's no chance of marriage or a continuing loving relationship between the parents, premature parenthood is in neither the young mother's or her baby's best interest.

Too often single girls who keep their babies end up living a life of poverty. Their children are more likely to do without essentials, many suffer abuse from their mothers' boyfriends, and they're less likely to finish high school or go on to college. There are exceptions of course, but it's so much harder. I've seen grandparents who struggle to care for grandchildren, who love them, and act as parents, then suddenly have the children torn from their home when the mother decides to marry and take the children far away. I've also seen grandparents left in charge of their single child's baby who are physically unable to provide the needed care, leaving the baby or toddler unintentionally neglected.

Adoptions these days are very open. The young woman who chooses to place her child in a stable home can receive regular reports and pictures to assure her of the child's well-being. In some cases she can see the child at regular intervals. She can also finish her education, mature, establish a career, marry, and pursue her dreams, knowing the child she loves is being properly cared for and has the advantages of a loving home, enough to eat, the prospect of higher education, and the love of an extended family.

One of the greatest heartbreaks a couple can face is the knowledge that they can't have children. Here you have a couple who are committed to each other, financially prepared for parenthood, mature enough to be good parents, but for some reason they can't conceive. If these parents are fortunate enough to be allowed to adopt a child, I assure you they feel nothing but love and admiration for the birth mother who honestly considers her baby's future needs above her own. They respect her courage in completing the pregnancy and letting go of a piece of herself for the child's better good.

Adoption is no guarantee the child will have no problems and the parents will always know how to deal with every issue, but the same can be said for all children. Children don't come with how-to manuals, but adoptive parents receive more training than most as the proceed through the pre-adoption process. In my state they have to pass a pretty extensive background check as well. If anyone doubts an adopted child is loved as much as one born into a family, let me assure you there is no basis for that fear An adopted child is always wanted. One of my most treasured memories is that of my daughter when her first adopted child was placed in her arms by his birth mother. The look of joy, of rightness, of love on these two young women's faces is a memory I hold priceless. The same feelings of love and awe I experience holding my other grandchildren is there for these two adopted ones. I never find myself thinking, this one is adopted and this one isn't. They're all my grandchildren and all eleven are the most precious children in the world. If my experience is an indication of a trend, I'd say adoption is truly a win-win proposition for all concerned. My deepest thanks goes out to two brave young women who gave my grandchildren life, then gave them the precious gift of love by allowing them to be adopted.

Our deepest fear . . . .

2011-10-07T13:42:00.002-06:00

I ran across this quote the other day and thought the message was something every one of us needed to be reminded of frequently.

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It's our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?

"Actually, who are you not to be. You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn't serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone.

"And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we're liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others." (Nelson Mandela, 1994 Inaugural speech)

Now while I might not totally agree with his terms of "brilliant, gorgeous and fabulous," (though I would most happily apply that to all of you marvelous ladies!) I do have to agree with the "talented." We've discovered our talent with words and feelings or we wouldn't be in this business. And if we don't let our light shine, the world will be a much darker place. There will be so much left undone that we could have done: budding talents to bolster and nourish; gifts of words that never were shared; thoughts and ideas that never came to fruition.

Our confidence in what we can do, our love of what we do, our assurance in our God-given abilities can and will help everyone who comes within our sphere of light. We have a responsibility to share what we've been given and help nurture those who are coming behind us. So let's be grateful for what we have, share it boldly and gladly, and know that we can make the world a better place because we were here - and let our light shine forth gloriously.

Hawaiian Island Miracle

2011-10-06T09:12:00.004-06:00

I went to the Church History Library the other day to do research for my next book of historical fiction. The story line will concern one of the first Polynesian converts from the beautiful islands of Hawaii.

Needing information, I approached one of the librarians at the front desk. I knew I would have to fill out forms to get permission to see the 1850 missionary diary of Elder George Q. Cannon, and wanted help with that process. The librarian asked me why I needed to see the diary, (understandably they're very protective of precious 160 year-old manuscripts) and I told him I was an author and my novel concerned Elder Cannon's mission in the Hawaiian Islands. The diary's pages would hold the story of one of the first Polynesian converts from the islands.

At that moment, another of the behind-the-counter-librarians said, "Are you going to write about Jonathon Napela?" Taken aback, I affirmed that I was. I asked how he knew the little-known name of Brother Napela, and this good man proceeded to tell me that he lived on the island of Molokai, and had ventured away from his home a month earlier to serve a mission for the LDS church. The island of Molokai is where Jonathon Napela and his wife are buried. I was stunned. I have had strong connections with the islands since living in Honolulu when I was a teenager. In all my years of associations, I have never met anyone from Molokai.

I told him I would be going to the islands for research, and Molokai would be one of my stops. Smiling one of those warm Hawaiian smiles, this generous man then said, "Oh, I have a daughter there who would love to show you around, and my house is vacant while I'm on my mission, so you are welcome to stay there while you're researching!"

The world might call this amazing meeting serendipity, coincidence, chance. I call it a miracle. It confirms to my soul the nearness of a loving Father who is just a whisper away.

Scouting

2011-10-05T22:38:00.003-06:00

I've asked my husband Brad if he'd be willing to be a guest blogger. He has agreed. So with thankful heart, I now turn the time over to him:

I have no idea how Jeri talks me into these things, but anyway here it is.

Well, here it is my favorite time of the year. For the 2nd year in a row I get to head up our wards Friends of Scouting drive. For those who don't know what this is, it is a fund raising drive to help support the local Boy Scout Council. To be honest, it’s a lot of work and all the money goes to the council, not the local troop, so it really isn't a lot of fun. This year there has been a good deal of negative press in the local papers about this event. It has caused me to reflect on scouting and why we should support it.

With our oldest son we had set a goal for him in scouting. We thought that he should earn the eagle scout award before he turned 16. If not then he couldn't drive or date. Well 16 came and went with no Eagle Award. We, however needed Tyler to date to give us a break from his crazy teenage ways, and we needed him to drive, for so many reasons. Shortly before he turned 18, he completed all the work necessary and was given the rank of Eagle Scout. When we got home Tyler handed it to Jeri and said here is your eagle mom.

Now Tyler is married with a family of his own. He is a hard worker and has been very successful. Every time there is an Eagle court of honor, he proudly sits in the eagles nest. Although he speaks of his hard work and effort in earning his Eagle -- he laughs and grins and we know he is very grateful for the encouragement his mom and I gave him in earning this award. It means a lot to him. I proudly wear my eagle dad pin on one of my suit jackets, it means a lot to us too.

Over the summer I went with our older scouts in our ward on a high adventure trip to the Tetons. While there, we did face some challenges and even some dangers, but we learned from that and became stronger because of it.

I recently attended a meeting that focused on venturing (16-17 yr old scouts) and the LDS church. These are young men at a critical age, and in the church we lose so many of them from activity in the Church. One of the leaders that spoke said, “In scouting we don’t wait for the young man to come to church, we take the young man on an adventure where they will come to know their Maker.” There is a reason LDS church leaders have deemed scouting the activity arm of the Aaronic Priesthood. Sir Robert Baden Powell, the founder of boy scouting said, “There is no Religious side to the movement, the whole of it is based on religion, that is on the realization and service of God.

On the Sunday morning session of General Conference, Sis. Dalton taught a great lesson on the influence a father can have on his daughter. That lesson can be directly applied to a mothers influence on her son. I am not sure I have seen a young man who has earned his eagle award, who didn’t get there in large part because of a mothers influence.

President Gordon B. Hinckley has stated:
"I love the Scouting movement. If every boy in America knew and observed the Scout Oath, we would do away with most of the jails and prisons in this country. This program builds boys, builds their futures, leads them on the right path so they can make something of their lives. Every man or woman who helps a boy along the road of life not only does a great thing for him but does a great thing for society as a whole."

So while it is sometimes easy to get lost in the politics and some negative aspects that sometimes surrounds this movement, let us not forget all the good that can and does come from this program. Powell said “We must change boys from a ‘what can I get‘, to a ‘what can I give’ attitude.” Isn’t that what the Savior wanted us to learn?

Emulating the Writing of Others

2011-10-04T05:18:00.000-06:00

My current work-in-progress is a novel about four very different women who are old school friends and all find themselves single in their forties. They decide to compete with each other to see who can find a "keeper" - a really decent man - first. The losers will pay for the winner's wedding. The punchline, of course, is that they all find a keeper, but none of them realise it.

Making 80,000 words out of that premise isn't easy because actually, there's not much action. Sure, there are business lunches and PTA meetings and even dates, but really it's just the minutiae of the women's lives, and that's not all that interesting. So to help me tackle this project I am re-reading some of my Marian Keyes books. Marian is an Irish writer and one of my favourite authors, but nothing much happens plot-wise in her stories. Anyone Out There, for example, charts the recovery from a car crash of a woman who slowly comes to realise and then accept that her husband has died in the crash. And that's it. That's the entire plot. Yet it is absorbing, funny, poignant and beautifully written. To such I aspire with Finders Keepers, so I'm hoping that in studying Marian's books I'll pick up some tips.

The most common piece of advice found on authors' websites is to read a lot. Why? Because reading helps you to recognise and appreciate good writing, which in turn helps you, if not to emulate it, then at least to recognise whether what you have written is as good.

Reading the masters of a particular genre can really help a writer to see what the reader expects from that genre, and some of the tricks and tools the author has used to create the appropriate atmosphere. To prepare for writing Emon and the Emperor I read the Percy Jackson series and re-read some of my favourite fantasy novels from my youth. I discovered that good fantasy was unapologetic and fast-paced, with relatable heroes (they almost always seemed to be male) and a good dramatic ending, preferably involving a battle and the death of a major character.

So now I'm thinking I need to plan to write a heady, angst-ridden, overpowering teenage love story, just to give me the perfect excuse to dig out Twilight again...

Star Valley Temple

2011-10-03T08:34:00.000-06:00

I think I'm still in shock over the announcement that was made during the Saturday morning LDS Conference session. I was listening closely to President Monson as my husband and I were traveling to spend the weekend with loved ones in Utah. I smiled over each new temple site that was mentioned. In my opinion, our prophet saved the best news for last: a temple is to be built in Star Valley, Wyoming!!!

Star Valley has been like a second home for me since childhood. My mother grew up in Star Valley, which is only about 45 miles away from my current home. I spent many summers staying with my grandparents in this magical place. My mother has often commented through the years that returning to Star Valley is like recharging one's internal batteries. I totally agree. This beautiful area is such a peaceful place, surrounded by forest laden mountains, beautiful lakes and streams, and filled with down-to-earth people who work hard and play hard.

When I heard the news, I called my mother, who was doing the dance of joy in her living room. She had been listening to this same conference session and was so excited. She had never envisioned an LDS Temple in her former stomping grounds. She can hardly wait to attend the future dedication for this soon-to-be wonder.

Very soon after I talked to my mother about this news, I called my daughter-in -law, who also happens to hail from Star Valley. She was just as excited as my mother and I were over this announcement. She had just talked to her mother, who still lives in the area and told me that her mother was so happy she was crying over the news.

The closest temple to the Star Valley region lies in Idaho Falls, Idaho. That is where all of the temple ordinances have taken place for my mother's side of the family tree. To know that one will now be built in the Star Valley region is a dream come true, and the first temple to be built in the wonderful state of Wyoming!

Star Valley is part of the 7 stake region in our current neck of the woods. So for my husband and I, having a temple in Star Valley will be a wonderful thing. The closest temple for us lies in Logan, Utah, which is approximately 70 miles away. As I mentioned earlier, this new temple will be about 45 miles away, cutting the distance traveled by those in our area.

I will probably be doing the dance of joy started by my mother for quite some time. It still doesn't seem real, and probably won't until we see the spires of this future edifice. =) What a wonderful time we live in, despite all of the challenges! These new temples that are being built will affect many lives for the better. Numerous blessings will take place as a result of these inspired decisions--truly a sign that we are loved and watched over in more ways than any of us can imagine!

A Little Craziness

2011-09-28T20:20:00.002-06:00

"Everyone in the whole world is crazy, except thee and me--and sometimes I wonder about thee." It was a popular saying when I was a teenager and sometimes I find myself thinking it today. Am I the only one who wonders if the world has gone a bit crazy?

Take our international economic situation! I took economic classes. I've studied finance from corporate bookkeeping to balancing my own checkbook and I can't see how we can spend our way out of debt. Sure purchasing goods; spending is essential to a healthy economy, but so is saving. Somehow our financial well-being has been twisted so that a person's ability to borrow matters more than the ability to pay one's own way. People determine their financial worth by their credit card limit instead of actual dollars in the bank. Poverty occurs when the credit cards are maxed out and the mortgage company forecloses. Savers who consistently squirrel away small sums of money for years to make major purchases, meet emergencies, or to provide a comfortable retirement are reaping .02% or less on their pitiful savings. What has happened to the economic laws I once knew?

Advertising constantly assures us we "deserve" this or that. I don't get that premise. No one "deserves" any of life's luxuries or even much of what many consider necessities. We don't buy cars, clothes, houses, or take vacations because we deserve them, but because we worked for the money to purchase them. We only "deserve" those inalienable rights given us by God--life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

The Supreme Court says taking God's name publicly in vain is a constitutional right, but addressing God in prayer in public is a crime. It seems free speech has become a bit one-sided.

A man can be fired from his job for tackling a shoplifter, but it's all right for the store to increase the cost we all must pay to cover the loss from pilfered goods.

It's all right to dump piles of rocks, guaranteed to blow a tire or twist an ankle if accidently stepped on or driven over, in median strips in most neighborhoods, but it's illegal to plant vegetables in that space. A yard full of rocks and weeds is a good thing?

Occasionally my husband and I watch a television program that shows people purchasing houses, condos, or apartments. Sometimes we laugh at the unrealistic expectations of people who expect four bedrooms, a man cave, three baths, a modern kitchen, and a pool for $160,000. Other times we're amazed to see people who think they got an amazing bargain because they purchased a pile of rubble for over a million dollars. People gush over ugly tile, rave over weird wall paper, or turn their noses up over perfectly good, attractive, but slightly outdated fixtures. We shake our heads and say there's no accounting for tastes, good sense, or the odd quirks of the human mind.

Which brings me around to the business of writing. All of these elements of common sense--or lack there-of-- tastes, imagination, moral sense, realistic aspects, preferences play a part in both the creation and the consumption of novels. Whether consciously or not, a writer creates characters and actions that follow his/her own beliefs, standards, and sense of right and wrong. The reader brings his/her own set of values to those pages. Sometimes there is a happy meeting of minds between writer and reader, but sometimes it's a poor match. We've all had someone rave about how wonderful a book is, then when we pick it up, expecting a great read, only to find it lackluster, boring, so so, or even repugnant.

The world is a bit crazy; perhaps it always has been, but just as the people on that home buying show find the best bargains when they do some preparation, we can get the best bargain for our reading and writing enjoyment if we take the time to do a little preparation. Writers who are perfectly clear on who they are writing for find their writing niche most easily. A romance writer knows her audience wants romantic tension between a deserving couple who overcome great odds and end up in a committed relationship. Mystery and suspense readers want to be puzzled, scared a bit, then reach a satisfying solution to the puzzle. A writer who wants to write for the LDS market needs to write within the parameters of LDS standards. Deciding LDS readers need to "lighten up", accept more sexually explicit content and X-rated expletives is only going to attract like-minded readers, the bulk of the LDS market won't touch such books with a ten foot pole.

Many LDS readers in the past felt if they purchased a book at Deseret Book or Seagull Book (or any of the other LDS bookstore chains) it would be a good book. It might be a good book as far as maintaining standards, but no one book will meet the needs of every LDS reader. The most savvy shoppers learn some writers fill their needs better than others, some readers buy their books online, some checkout LDS books from their libraries. Keeping a list of preferred writers is a good idea, discovering which friends share similar tastes with you is helpful, reading blogs and reviews will generally give a good idea of whether or not a particular book might be enjoyable, and it's a good idea to talk to the authors at book signings . Reading will increase in the pleasure it provides as the reader discovers preferred genres and authors, but even favorites become better if there's a little craziness added for contrast now and then. Make it a policy to sample a new author or a different genre occasionally. If the new book turns out to be a pile of rubble, throw it at the wall, read something you know you'll like, and when you're ready to experiment again, do it. If you feel a wee bit crazy, you'll fit right in.

Freedom

2011-09-23T16:38:00.003-06:00

"A nation of well-informed men (and women) who have been taught to know and prize the rights which God has given them cannot be enslaved. It is in the region of ignorance that tyranny begins."

Benjamin Franklin

You may think that the two images and the quote by Benjamin Franklin have no connection, when indeed they do.
My novel, "Letters in the Jade Dragon Box" will be at bookstores in the next few days. It tells the story of a family and a nation torn apart under the cruel dictatorship of Mao Tse-tung and the CCP. (Chinese Communist Party)

The tyranny which enslaved China from 1949 to 1976 (and beyond) came because the people were weary of chaos and war, and in their weakened state the words of the Communists sounded good to their ears. Because of their ignorance of the Communist's agenda, the people handed over their freedom to a flawed system and, on the most part, self-seeking despots.
The false system was legitimized by the media and the artists who were forced to only show the CCP in a glorified light. An example is the picture above which is a representation of the soldiers in the snow during the Long March. They are smiling and happy to be fighting for a system of government who promised equality and freedom for all its citizens—happy to be walking thousands of miles for Chairman Mao—happy to be dying by the thousands as only about 1,000 of the 10,000 men who began the Long March actually made it to journey's end.

In China there are still large pictures of Mao Tse-tung hung in public places. Many still revere him, although between 58 to 70 million Chinese died during his reign from hunger, imprisonment, torture, execution, or suicide.

In ignorance the Chinese people were enslaved. May we as Americans never find ourselves in such a place.

Writer's Heaven

2011-09-22T06:50:00.002-06:00

A writer died, and due to a bureaucratic snafu in the hereafter, she was allowed to choose her own fate: heaven or hell for all eternity. Being a very shrewd dead person, she asked St. Peter for a tour of both. The first stop was hell where she saw rows and rows of writers sitting chained to desks in a room as hot as a thousand suns. Fire licked the writers' fingers as they tried to work; demons whipped their backs with chains. Your general hell scene.
"Wow, this is awful," said the writer. "Let's see some heaven."
In a moment they were whisked to heaven and the writer saw rows and rows of writers chained to desks in a room hot as a thousand suns. Fire licked the writers' fingers as they tried to work; demons whipped their backs with chains. It looked and smelled even worse than hell.
"What gives, Pete?" the writer asked. "This is worse than hell!"
"Yes," St. Peter replied, "but here your work gets published."

There are some days when that scenario doesn't seem so far-fetched after all. And about the chain thing: I literally have to visualize chains around my ankles sometimes to keep myself seated at the computer to finish a chapter or even a page. But the joy of seeing our creations birthed and published must make it all worth it because we do it over and over again. Like Anna said, she loves her characters. She believes her reading public will love them too and so she will not give up when her babies are rejected.
Being a writer requires a lot of determination in many different areas: we have to be determined to research carefully, then write the story we see in our mind's eye so that others will catch our vision. We must be determined to see it through to the bitter end when there are so many other things we need or want to be doing instead. That is what drives a real writer: the determination - as the saying goes "come hell or high water" - to make our stories come to life for others.

Show vs. Tell

2011-09-21T10:16:00.004-06:00

I freely admit that there are plenty of rules to writing that I struggle with, but the one that gives me the most trouble has to be the rule, "Show, don't tell." So I am certainly not qualified to write, blog, or offer advice on the topic.

HOWEVER---

I have been paying attention to my dear author friends, took some great notes at the LDStorymakers conference on the topic, and have learned from my notes I have gotten back from my critiques and this is what I have learned...

First of all we know that telling a reader gives them know room for their imagination to grow. Everything is there in black and white.

Showing a reader is planting clues, giving evidence, trusting the reader to figure things out for themselves.

If you were to take a friend and blindfold them, what would you tell them? In the setting of your story, you need to put us there as if we were blindfolded.

When writing about thoughts and emotions, rather than telling us the persons emotions show us through action.

Be specific in description. Rather than saying "a car" write "a blue Mercedes" or rather than say the man was tall, say, "He had to duck through the doorway as he entered the room."

Using good description is essential but it's just as important to recognize bad description. Bad description is description that serves no purpose. It will kill the scene and makes the reader want to skip down to the next important bit of information pertaining to the story. (I've done that when I've read a book-- have you? You want to skip to the good stuff that really matters!)

You want to slim down your description to what really matters. What details would your POV character notice? Why? What is the most important for the reader to know? Why? You don't want to mess up your pacing and interfere with your story.

Remember to add details that pack a punch. POV characters don't usually notice the little things that are familiar to them, so change something. Force them to notice something when creating your scene.

Last of all: Make each word count.

These are all things I need to work on. I tend to "Tell" more than "Show"and I wonder if I will ever master this rule.

I do appreciate that I have so many to learn from. I want to be sure to acknowledge Annette Lyon and Sarah Eden. I used some of my notes from their classes from the writers conference for this blog.

I especially want to acknowledge Kerry Blair, Stephanie Black, Sian Bessey, and all the other ladies on this blog for their fine examples of writing as they continually teach me the right way to write. It's been a long process for me to learn and I still have a long way to go, but it's these ladies that make the journey such an incredible ride. It's an honor and a blessing to call each of them my friends.

Characters

2011-09-20T05:29:00.001-06:00

I've got a new book coming out next month (shameless plug - it's called No Escape, buy it) and part of the fun of editing it is getting to know the characters again - I haven't read the book for a couple of years. I may have invented Michael Boyd, the straightforward New York cop with misplaced trust in his wife and a difficult relationship with his brother, and Catrin Pritchard, the prickly and protective single mum, but in the course of creating them I got to know them, and now I feel as though I'm reuniting with old friends. Until the death of my hard disk a couple of weeks ago I had on my computer the floorplan of Catrin's seaside cottage, her university exam timetable, and a timeline for Michael from his birth to the end of his secondment in Wales.

Although writers mostly work alone in a darkened room hunched over a computer, I have never really felt that I was in this endeavour on my own. Working with characters feels like working with people. And I get quite attached to these people in much the same way I did to those other people I created - my children. (Send for the men in the white coats now.)

Something I really enjoyed about reading the reviews of my last book, Honeymoon Heist, was that all the reviewers really got my characters. They understood that they were both flawed, and weren't well suited to each other, but that their relationship was going to work anyway because ultimately they were both determined and honourable. They got that their past experiences had shaped them, and they noted how they grew in the course of the story. Rodney and Claire are important to me - I spent a lot of time with them - and I really liked the fact that readers related to them too.

I'm currently hawking a 120,000 word epic fantasy around agents and publishers, and I'm very much attached to the characters in that too. Emon is an ordinary lad who gets picked on by his siblings, is none too bright and much too naive and trusting, and just wants to be normal despite the overwhelming evidence that he isn't. Emara is (literally) from another world and has struggled for survival her whole life, but clings to moral absolutes and professional duty so strongly that it seems impossible that her relationship with Emon could survive. This manuscript, Emon and the Emperor, has now been rejected ten times, but one reason I'm not giving up is because I love these characters and almost feel that I owe it to them to let them get out there, see the light of day, and be known and loved by others too. I want them to live, and they can only really do that by being in print and being read and shared.

Michael Boyd and Catrin Pritchard, Rodney and Claire Hewlett, Emon Shipwright and Emara Lann may all be fictional and created by my own mind, but they have nevertheless bought me pleasure and I have enjoyed getting to know them and spending time in their company. And if that sounds a bit deep and bizarre, think for a moment about fictional characters who mean a lot to you. Harry, Ron and Hermione? Edward, Bella and Jacob? Bilbo and Frodo? Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy?

A good writer can bring characters to life, such that it can be a wrench to remember that they don't exist in the real world. Which characters from books have most enriched your life?

OBSERVATION

2011-09-14T20:01:00.002-06:00

No one has ever accused me of being the most observant person on this planet. I trip over lint on the carpet! I was in a minor accident once with a hit and run driver; I couldn't remember whether it was a car, a station wagon, or a pickup truck that hit my car. Unfortunately my youngest daughter takes after her mother; she tripped over the welcome mat at her own front door and seriously sprained both ankles last week!

Oddly enough I do notice trivia and some not so trivial things around me. Last week I observed a little girl at a salad bar scoop up some chocolate pudding and try to shake it onto her plate from the spoon. It didn't fall off so she wiped it off with her fingers, then licked her fingers before jamming the spoon back in the pudding, again wiping off the stuck pudding with her finger, and licking her fingers once more. She repeated this action half a dozen times.

I noticed, too, the woman in the changing booth next to mine slip on her shoes sans socks. I also noticed her feet were covered with athletes foot and she'd been standing barefoot on the changing booth carpet.

While getting my hair done, I watched in the mirror as the patron behind me had extensions added to make her hair appear fuller. As the beautician pinched each extension with a little pair of pliers, I wondered how the woman getting the extensions could possibly wash, brush, or comb her hair with all that hardware in it. She was excited about a date with a new man that night and I hoped he wasn't the kind who liked to run his fingers through a woman's long, silky hair.

The mention of hair reminds me of the time I sat in church and watched a young girl's hair turn from black to several shades of brown, blonde, and then to red. All the variations in color were due to the way the sun struck the large stained glass windows high on the walls of the chapel.

Who knows, any of these small incidents could and the last one did ,wind up in one of my books. Some writers are more observant than my daughter and I are when it comes to obstacles to personal welfare, but most writers have a tendency to see little quirks, mannerisms, the unusual, trivia we can use to make characters more real, more endearing, or less desirable. It's the little things most people may not notice in real life that makes a character in a novel more real.

I couldn't tell you the eye color of any of my neighbors or most of my relatives, but in a novel this is usually an important detail. I have no idea what kind of car anyone, other than my husband or myself, drives. What color my sister's carpet is, is a mystery to me. There's a mural on the wall of my doctor's office; I'm not sure what it depicts, but there's a bird in it with incorrect proportions.

Why I have selective observation skills, I don't know, but being aware of small details around me has enriched my ability to develop characters and create scenes. Why I don't notice a stair is two inches higher than I raise my foot, I don't know.

As for my daughter, blessed or cursed with the same problem, check out her blog sometime. She has very different tastes from mine in her reading and writing preferences, but she has a sense of humor that has delighted me since she wrote her first story about an inept dragon and an unusual princess.

Passion for the Work

2011-09-09T09:12:00.002-06:00

I noted the comments on the last post I wrote on passion in writing. Today I thought I'd elaborate.
I've been reading Dwight Swain's "Techniques of the Selling Writer" and I find myself nodding in agreement at nearly every sentence. He says, "Feeling is the place every story starts."
I agree wholeheartedly. If we don't feel for the character, or with them, we can easily lose interest in what they are doing, or what someone is doing to them. We must care deeply about those characters - enough to live life vicariously through them.
It would be no life at all to not have feelings. I read for a reawakening of feelings: tears and sorrow at tragedy; smiles at witty dialogue; out-loud laughter at the antics of the hero and heroine. I read to relish the hair rising on the back of my neck in terror at the heroine's peril, safe and secure it's not happening physically to me, but enjoying the thrill in absentia.
I love to read great description that puts me exactly in the middle of the scene - the sounds, smells, taste, and feelings. As I write, I must know not only what my heroine is experiencing physically, but what she's thinking, and why she's doing what she's doing.
As a writer, I must remember to write vividly, using sensory perception to fill the requirements of my readers which are my own requirements when I read.
I want to experience the emotions of my heroine - so I expect her crises to be presented in a logical manner, hopefully a chronological one, that I can follow without re-reading to make sure I know what's going on.
What happened to wrench her from her everyday life? How does she react to the change in her existence? What is she going to do about her new situation? How will she face these new challenges?
As a reader, I'm anxious to live - to feel - each of these emotions with her, anxious to identify with her as she steps into new, unknown territory, physically and emotionally. And I need to walk every step of the way with her to the satisfying, logical conclusion of the story.
I don't want to read long, agonizing paragraphs of description or introspection that don't move the story forward. They don't usually convey feeling. And after all, isn't that what we're reading for is feeling, maybe even more than for entertainment and education?
As a writer, if I don't fulfill these needs of my readers, if I don't evoke in them the feelings and emotions they want to experience, I've let them down in the worst way possible. As a reader, I'll never pick up another book by that author if he or she lets me down in those areas.
Write so the passion you feel for your character shines through your prose. Write the kind of story you love to read and give your readers the kind of story that rouses passion, sympathy, anger, disgust, happiness, peace - feelings that will stay with them long after they put the book down.
You can be sure they'll come back for more.

Writing Historical Fiction

2011-09-08T08:39:00.007-06:00

Here are a few things I've discovered as I've waded through the process of writing historical fiction:

1. You must love reading and research. Looking into big fat biographies, autobiographies, and history books in a library. While the Internet and Goggle are marvelous tools, they have their limitations and cannot supersede the research you do in those bastions of bookdom. You must like snooping around in museums, State Historical Archives, and used book stores.

2. You have to like detail. Suppose you're writing a book about, let's say China during the reign of Mao Tse-tung. Of course, you have to dig into the basic history of the time period, but you must also know what the people ate, how they dressed, their mode of transportation, their cultural heritage, their religious traditions and celebrations, the art work they admired, and their feelings about their government and the world.

3. You must be able to organize your research. File folders and file boxes will become your best friends. Little notes scratched on bits of paper just won't do. If you take a quote from a book, it must be written on a full piece of paper with all the pertinent data concerning the resource, and placed in a file folder under the appropriate heading.

4. You have to be prepared for frustration as you try to weave the wealth of your newly acquired knowledge into the fictional story without being heavy handed. (No reader likes two pages of dry data)

I could go on, but I think you get the picture. Historical fiction is a wonderful genre, and is both a pain and a joy to write. If done well, it can offer history to the reader in an exciting and involving way.

What's not so great about the Kindle.

2011-09-06T13:15:00.000-06:00

I've written at least two blog posts so far about why I love my Kindle and why I think that ebooks are probably the future for all of us. Everyone I know who has a Kindle loves it. Many have found their love of reading rekindled (pun intended) and have read more since getting their Kindle than for several years beforehand. I include myself in this.

But there has to be another side and so I thought I might stand up for the printed page and explain why, as much as I love my Kindle, there will always be room for books in my life and my home.

I have just finished a great book. It's called The Year of Living Biblically and it's by A.J. Jacobs. It was funny and thought-provoking, and I recommend it to everyone, but it's not available on Kindle. Not all books are. That's one of the drawback of the Kindle.

I got this book from the library, on a whim. My daughter was being interviewed by the librarian to see if she'd completed her Summer Reading Challenge, and so I browsed along a nearby shelf I don't usually visit. You can browse with a Kindle, and Amazon will even make recommendations, but you're unlikely to come across a completely random book like that. And even if you do, you can't borrow it for a month for free.

I also love the No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency series by Alexander McCall Smith and I now have the entire series. I bought them second hand in charity shops for between 50p and £2 each. You can't do that with the Kindle either.

My daughter doesn't have any scriptures at the moment, and always borrowed mine for church. The first week after I got the scriptures for my Kindle she asked to borrow that instead, and I agreed, just glad to have scriptures for a change rather than sharing with my husband. But the following week she wanted my printed scriptures again. It's really difficult navigating with the Kindle, especially if you want to compare two passages. You can't just put a bookmark or your fingers in each section. To get to anywhere from anywhere else you have to click Menu - Go to - Beginning and then you get the list of Old Testament, New Testament, etc. So you scroll to the book of scripture, and then to the book, and then to the chapter... Meanwhile the rest of the class have looked it up, read it and moved on. The Kindle is great for reading a book through from beginning to end, but not so good for reference books.

Most print books with pictures, diagrams, etc, don't have these in the Kindle version.

If you're a reviewer, the Kindle can be annoying in that, because the font size can be changed by the user, it doesn't have page numbers. Somehow it doesn't seem quite the same to say "At 27% the author introduces the lame sub-plot which has fizzled out by 53%."

Books smell better. New, they smell of paper and ink. Old, they smell of must and nostalgia.

I still love my Kindle, but printed books are far from obsolete.

Labor Day Trivia

2011-09-05T17:32:00.000-06:00

Since today happens to be a national holiday, celebrated in varied ways, I thought it would be interesting to share a bit of Labor Day trivia:

For most people, Labor Day signifies the end of summer.

In U.S. sports, Labor Day heralds the beginning of the NFL and college football seasons.

In high society, Labor Day is the last day of the year when it is considered fashionable to wear white.

The first Labor Day officially celebrated in the United States took place on September 5, 1882. It was sponsored by the Central Labor Union of New York.

Oregon was the first state to make it holiday in 1887.

Labor Day became a federal holiday in 1894. This act was hastily passed through Congress following an altercation between U.S. Marshals & Military, and workers who were on strike against the Pullman Palace Car Company, an incident that halted railway traffic from Chicago to the West. Unfortunately, 13 strikers were killed, and 57 were wounded during this conflict. To appease the public and a major labor union, President Grover Cleveland and Congress passed this bill six days after the strike ended. The first Monday in September became the official date for this holiday to be celebrated.

Here's a list of the some of the occupations in our nation:

Occupation	Number of employees
Gaming services workers	85,000
Hairdressers, hairstylists and cosmetologists	718,000
Chefs and head cooks	281,000
Firefighters	258,000
Musicians, singers and related workers	179,000
Bakers	183,000
Taxi drivers and chauffeurs	286,000
Service station attendants	96,000
Farmers and ranchers	825,000
Pharmacists	232,000
Teachers	6.5 million

Hmmm . . . writers didn't make this list, but I happen to know that most of us put in hours of labor with each manuscript. ;)

I also find it interesting that on a day that celebrates the workers of America, most of us play . . . a lot. ;)

IRKED AND ANNOYED

2011-09-01T08:43:00.002-06:00

There's a television commercial that annoys my husband so much, he turns off the sound every time it comes on--and it comes on a lot. Most commercials annoy me, but that one not as much as some. Come to think of it, most of the programming annoys me too.

Few things irk me more than sales calls, especially ones I know are fraud schemes. I used to try to be nice to telephone salesmen; after all they are only trying to earn a living. Not anymore. I've had too many calls that start out telling me they're only calling to offer some kind of help with my credit card. The moment someone mentions credit card over the phone, you can be sure it's a scam. I do not have diabetes. I do not want someone to clean my carpet. If I were interested in selling my home, I'd contact a realtor , not the other way around. And if I want to contribute to a political party or candidate , I'll initiate the contact or do it at the caucus. I'm not interested in attending tea party meetings. My name is on the do not call list SO STOP CALLING ME!

I'm definitely not a fan of talk radio, though I occasionally listen to Doug Wright. I especially dislike a certain sports talk radio program where the commentator doesn't talk, he shouts and whines.

Clothes that are too tight, too short, or require an act of God to keep them from falling off the rump are silly and juvenile, but they don't annoy me as long as I'm not the one expected to try them on in a fitting booth. What does annoy me is the lack of stylish, attractive clothes that are designed to fit the human body available for real people to purchase in department stores.

I really don't care what color anyone's hair but mine is. Purple is fine if you think it's right for you. I once dyed a thin lock of my hair neon pink. Short, long, curly, straight; I don't care. Now dreadlocks are something else; they look matted, greasy, and unkempt. They look like the wearer needs a shower. If that's your style, so be it, just don't expect me to look at you; I can't get past your gross hair.

I dislike rudeness and find it irritating that so many people, push and shove, use crude language, play obnoxious music half the night, fail to show gratitude with a simple "thank you," take chances with other people's lives on the streets and highways, or let doors swing shut in the face of the person behind them. Words such as please, excuse me, may I, thanks, and sorry, have disappeared from some people's vocabularies.

When it comes right down to it, most annoyances (not all; afterall there are still annoyances like mosquitoes, wasps, and gophers to deal with) are human caused. Perhaps some can't be helped, but most are the product of inconsideration and lack of respect. I suspect we could all serve society better by being annoyed less and avoiding providing annoyances more.

There's a good chance, every person alive has a list of things that annoy them. Some of those annoyances, like fireworks at two in the morning, make us grumpy. Some just cause us to roll our eyes, but there are some that plant the seeds of major clashes or even war. I've been told venting is good for easing tension, so tell me, what annoys, irks, or just plain bugs you?

The gift you give yourself.

2011-08-31T08:51:00.002-06:00

This has nothing to do with writing. It is still a message I am anxious and passionate to share.

PLEASE GET YOUR MAMMOGRAMS!

My sweet mother-in-law was diagnosed with breast cancer 20 months ago. After a double mastectomy and months of chemotherapy we thought she had it beat. 2 months ago we found out the cancer had returned and was terminal. Any day now she will leave this mortal existence and pass to the other side. She has been valiant throughout this journey. She has maintained her sense of humor and delightful outlook on life. She has been an example of enduring to the end. I am so sad she is leaving us. She is only 68 years old.

She hadn't had a mammogram in 10 years.

Please, please, please don't put off your mammograms, or your colonoscopies, or your annual exams.

October is Breast Cancer Awareness month. Spread the word.

Adversity

2011-08-28T09:32:00.002-06:00

I planned to blog on writing tips today, but there has been so much heartache and pain in the group, I thought adversity would be a better subject. So I went to Neal A. Maxwell for words of comfort and solace. He said:

"A good friend, who knows whereof he speaks, has observed of trials,'If its fair, it is not a true trial!' That is, without the added presence of some inexplicableness and some irony and injustice, the experience may not stretch us or lift us sufficiently. The crucifixion of Christ was clearly the greatest injustice in human history, but the Savior bore up under it with majesty and indescribable valor."

Another: "How can you and I really expect to glide naively through life as if to say, "Lord, give me experience, but not grief, not sorrow, not pain, not opposition, not betrayal, and certainly not to be forsaken. Keep from me, Lord, all those experiences which made Thee what Thou art! Then let me come and dwell with Thee and fully share Thy joy."

When we look at adversity that way, it is so apparent that we really do need to experience it, but oh, how we dread it!

"You are all familiar with Olympic high-divers. They get scored on their dive according to the degree of difficulty. And you and I see people who are deprived in various ways performing so well in the midst of deep difficulty...I think of the scripture, "Where much is given, much is required." (D&C 82:3) and wonder if there is a sub-scripture that "Where less is given, some nevertheless return so very much...." In a sermon the Prophet Joseph rendered a verse in the Book of Hebrews differently. Paul said, "God is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him." Hebrews 11:6) The Prophet Joseph rendered it, "God is a revealer to them that diligently seek him...." I salute all of those through whom the works of God are manifest in the midst of their deprivation ... I remind us all that we should submit to Him in the degrees of difficulty that are given to us and rejoice in those who then do so well. On judgment day when all those who have been faithful will hear the words "Well done, thou good and faithful servant" (Matt 25:23), perhaps there will be one addendum to some who have in their extraordinary deprivation (and trials) done so very well -- "Especially well done, thou good and faithful servant." (Talk given January 13, 1995)

I suspect there will be many who receive that extra word of praise and thanks from this group.

One final word from the apostle: "Exceptional souls are not developed by being made exceptions to the challenges that are common to mankind."

Exceptional souls are being made today, though our hearts ache for the suffering that brings that blessed state.

Service

2011-08-25T12:07:00.002-06:00

There are several women in our neighborhood whom I consider faultless followers of Christ. I know this, not from any bragging on their part, but because, without their knowing it, I have taken note of the many quiet acts of kindness they've performed: caring day in and day out for aging parents, taking fresh baked bread or a meal over to a sick neighbor, helping serve at a church dinner, encouraging a young person who's struggling, making phone calls or dropping a note to someone suffering with the storms of life. They are the treasured "Grandma's" of the neighborhood, and I'm sure the Lord smiles at their service.

Service is second nature to them. There is no show in their offerings. There is no ego. There is no beating of the drum or the shining of lights. In his book, "All These Things Shall Give Thee Experience" Neal A. Maxwell states:

"Perfect love is perfectly patient. Loving patience with a disobedient child, long-term service in the sickness of a loved one who needs to be waited upon hand and foot--these are things that will stretch our souls more than so many other forms of service. To write a check, though the financial sacrifice is real, is not quite the same thing as day in and day out, providing brotherhood for the bedridden. Those of us who see others so ministering are privileged to see a gallantry that is Godlike in the regularity of service and in its selflessness."

I not only feel privileged to see these women serve, but I feel tutored. Without knowing it, they train me to seek for a better life.

Heavenly Father, Are you really there?

2011-08-24T10:00:00.002-06:00

The biggest thing on my mind at this time is that many people who are close to me are facing several tough challenges in their lives. Some are dealing with death by tragedy, serious health issues, financial difficulty, family discord, and some are even dealing with several of these trials all at once.

I am at a loss at what to say or do. I certainly pray for each of them and keep them in my heart and thoughts but am left pondering the statement that really bad things happen to really good people.

It’s very easy during times of heartache and struggle to question where God is and how he could possible let these things happen, but I believe that question is answered by President Spencer W. Kimball in his book,
Faith Proceeds the Miracle

“Is there not wisdom in his giving us trials that we might rise above them, responsibilities that we might achieve, work to harden our muscles, sorrows to try our souls? Are we not exposed to temptations to test our strength, sickness that we might learn patience, death that we might be immortalized and glorified?
If all the sick for whom we pray were healed, if all the righteous were protected and the wicked destroyed, the whole program of the Father would be annulled and the basic principle of the gospel, free agency, would be ended. No man would have to live by faith. If joy and peace and rewards were instantaneously given the doer of good, there could be no evil–all would do good but not because of the rightness of doing good. There would be no test of strength, no development of character, no growth of powers, no free agency, only satanic controls. Should all prayers be immediately answered according to our selfish desires and our limited understanding, then there would be little or no suffering, sorrow, disappointment, or even death, and if these were not, there would also be no joy, success, resurrection, nor eternal life and godhood.”

It may not make the trial easier, but it helps to keep a clear perspective on what it’s all about.

“No pain that we suffer, no trial that we experience is wasted. It ministers to our education, to the development of such qualities as patience, faith, fortitude and humility. All that we suffer and all that we endure, especially when we endure it patiently, builds up our characters, purifies our hearts, expands our souls, and makes us more tender and charitable, more worthy to be called the children of God . . . and it is through sorrow and suffering, toil and tribulation, that we gain the education that we come here to acquire and which will make us more like our Father and Mother in heaven. . . .” (Orson F. Whitney as cited in Spencer W. Kimball, Faith Proceeds the Miracle, [1972], 99).

When others are suffering and struggling this is an opportunity for us to look for ways to be of service, to show that we care and that we love them. It’s not always an easy thing to do. But with prayerful consideration I believe any act of kindness would be appreciated.
People just need to know they are loved, that other’s care, and that they are not alone.

I know that people have come through for me at various times of struggle and trial. It’s at those times that I know my Father in Heaven is aware of me and my needs. It is through those people that he and blesses my life.

Can You Trust Reviews?

2011-08-23T05:00:00.000-06:00

I posted a blog a couple of weeks ago about how important reviews are in helping potential buyers know whether to spend their money on a particular book. In fact, I think I may have bribed people to send me their books in return for chocolate and reviews. [http://annajonesbuttimore.blogspot.com/2011/06/importance-of-reviews-and-chocolate.html]

But now I'm starting to wonder. I read two books recently which made me think that reviews really can't be trusted because taste in books is so subjective. The first was a novel my book club are reading and it was one of the worst books I have ever stuggled through. The language and construction were dreadful, the thin plot predictable, it was full of mistakes and I was left feeling astonished that any publisher had accepted the book. (I then discovered that it was self-published.)

I went onto Amazon to leave a scathing review only to discover that it had ten reviews already, all giving it four or five stars and praising the "lyrical and hypnotic language", and the "wonderful story". Was this the same book? I can only assume that the writer, having parted with £1,500 to vanity publish his book, had then paid his friends to post good reviews. (I'm looking forward to discussing this matter at my book club.)

The second book was about the life of a particularly interesting character from English history, and I hated that too. The author kept digressing into evidence for her assumptions, filling pages with minor and confusing details about other characters, and making suppositions with very little evidence. I don't generally read history books, and on discovering later that there is a novelised version of this medieval woman's life, wished I had chosen that instead.

And yet this book too had excellent reviews - over thirty of them. In this case I had to conclude that since I am not generally a reader of history I have poor judgement on such matters.

I've been sent several books as a result of my chocolate bribe, and I'm wondering what I'll do if I hate any of them. I know the authors, and I don't want to lose any friends, but I have to be honest. Or do I? Do people reading the reviews know that they are influenced by personal preference and the writer's relationship with the author? What is the true value of a review when opinions on a book can differ so widely?

Timely Venting

2011-08-22T11:36:00.001-06:00

I've been trying to finish up a new manuscript this summer. My original plans included having it entirely polished and ready to go by July. Yeah . . . that didn't happen. =) I have been able to work in writing and polishing sessions here and there, but I'm finding that life keeps happening. By that I mean reunions, weddings, camping adventures, girls' camp, and funerals continue to fill my calendar of events, making the writing rather a back-burner type of thing.

It also helps when people like my mother-in-law come to visit. She's a sweet lady, but in her opinion, sitting at the computer, working on a novel is a complete waste of time. So during her frequent visits, I rarely break out the laptop. On the other hand, she has asked me repeatedly when my next book will be finished, something I find quite ironic. ;)

It is interesting that many people assume novels just magically make an appearance. They don't realize, as Jennie touched on in her post, that it takes hours of work to write & polish a manuscript. These days, I tend to do my best writing between the hours of 5:00 a.m. and 7:00 a.m. This is a time of day when I'm the only one awake and I'm not interrupted by the phone, visitors, and life in general. But that's only a couple of hours per day and it just doesn't cut it when one is trying to finish a book.

I reflect back on other books that I've successfully completed, and this was when children were underfoot, I once again served in the YW organization of our ward, and life was rarely boring. Why is it those manuscripts seemed to come together easier and quicker? Or was life not quite so crazy?

Speaking of crazy, today I have to make a decision. I've been asked to join the local Arts Council in our county. I assume this is because I have so much free time on my hands. =D Truthfully, I'm not sure I can fit in one more thing. Also, since I rarely complain about it, most people don't realize I deal with a few health glitches on a daily basis, like lupus and Type 1 diabetes. I've tried to not allow those items to interfere with my life, but as much as I resent their presence, they are unfortunately, constant companions. This means there are days when I feel like walking death. Especially when I do things like roll down hillsides on a 4-wheeler . . . but that is a story for another day.

Bottom line: it's currently a challenge to find the time needed to complete my newest manuscript, and I'm starting to resent that a little bit. So I'm venting during this post, hoping to feel better about things. I will complete this manuscript, but not as quickly as I had hoped. If all goes well, I may be ready to send it down to my editor in September. (I think by now she has caught on that I lied about the July submission.)

Am I the only writer struggling to meet deadlines these days? (This is when you all comment and make me feel better.) =D

STAY IN YOUR LANE

2011-08-18T08:46:00.000-06:00

I feel lucky to be alive; I drove to Provo and back Tuesday. That strip of freeway between Salt Lake and Provo is not for the faint of heart. It's confusing, but there are signs that say STAY IN YOUR LANE. I wasn't too sure what the signs were trying to tell me, but I stayed in the lane I was in. It took me through narrow canyons of walls and trucks, around odd curves, and over a lot of bumps. There were far too many vehicles going much too fast and a huge truck taking up two lanes. However, I survived by stubbornly staying in my lane.

Perhaps I'm getting a bit philosophical, but it seems to me, becoming a writer is a lot like that freeway. There's all that white knuckle slogging through learning how to write which includes a lot of reading, research, practice writing, attending conferences, finishing and submitting a manuscript or multiple manuscripts, rejection letters, and rewriting. It's scary, intimidating, and can easily discourage a would-be writer. But then there's a welcome stretch when the work is accepted and it looks like smooth road ahead. Ha! Then begins the editing, rewriting, reading and rereading searching for the tiniest errors, making appearances, being interviewed, booksignings, and reviews. Before there's time to catch your breath, it's time to do it all over again.

At BYU Education week a couple of people stopped by my table to tell me all about the great book they're going to write "someday." This scenario happens over and over at book signings. I love talking to people who are seriously working at becoming writers, the ones who are slogging through the early stages, but stubbornly moving forward. It's the "someday" ones who make me wince. These are the ones who have never committed a word to paper, the ones who think writing is so easy they can dash of a book anytime they get around to it, the ones who think they'll become great writers when they "find time." One of those at this signing commented, "I don't read. I don't have to be a reader to write a good book." All I can say to these people is "Stay in your lane. If you didn't pick a lane that leads to the destination you want, there's little chance you're going to get there."

There were a few drivers who wove from lane to lane, exceeded the speed limit, and made the trip more treacherous than it needed to be. Life is like that. There are spoilers who cause problems for themselves and others. Writers meet their share of spoilers too; "friends" and "family" who attempt to discourage. They laugh and ridicule. They refuse to respect time set aside for writing. They dish out guilt for not making more money or failing to do something else that is more important in their estimation. They deliver patronizing "what-a-fun-little-hobby" comments and put downs. It's not easy sticking to your goal or staying in your lane when those around you are speeding, cutting in, and failing to take your determination seriously.

To be successful at anything, including writing, commitment is necessary. Getting published may take many years. Some writers seem to have overnight success, but this perception is usually wrong. The lane they picked only took a different route with its own bumps and obstacles. No one becomes a doctor, a concert pianist, or even a good parent without sticking to their determination to reach that goal and doing the work needed to get them there. Writing is no different. Talent is only the beginning; hard work, perseverance, and stubbornly sticking to the chosen lane is the way to success.

Stay in your lane. Deal with the distractions without childish anger or seeking shortcuts and you'll be the one collecting royalty checks instead of the one sitting beside the road with a highway patrolman handing you a "double fine in work zone" ticket, watching all the cars who stayed in their lane pass you by.

OXYMORONS

2011-08-11T14:40:00.002-06:00

Do you run across any of the following when you're reading? How do you feel about them? Do they jump out at you or are we becoming so accustomed to crazy speech that we no longer pay attention?

Act naturally
Advanced BASIC
Same difference
Legally drunk
Living dead
Soft rock
"Now, then..."
Synthetic natural gas
Terribly pleased
Diet ice cream
Working vacation
Government organization
Clearly misunderstood
Twelve-ounce pound cake
Found missing
Genuine imitation
Good grief
Sanitary landfill
Silent scream
Small crowd
Passive aggression
Taped live
Definite maybe
Rap music
Resident alien
Almost exactly
Alone together
New classic
Sweet sorrow
Childproof
Peace force
Plastic glasses
Pretty ugly
Exact estimate
Temporary tax increase.

The dictionary defines an oxymoron as a figure of speech in which words of opposite meaning or suggestion are used together such as wise fool, cruel kindness, to make haste slowly. I would hope that as writers we can communicate clearly, without garbling our prose in this way. Just one more thing to take our readers out of the dream and make them shake their heads in bewilderment.

Wake Up and Create!

2011-08-11T10:24:00.002-06:00

My mom always told me that things are best accomplished early in the morning, warning that after 2 o'clock in the afternoon, it's a struggle to get things done. And, I have to concede that mom was true to her word--a dynamo of early morning activity. There is only one flaw in her theory. Some of us are not sunshine early risers. It's not that I sleep in until 10 or anything, but getting up with the sun is not my idea of enjoyable. Let me sleep until 8, meditate until 9, exercise until 10 and I'm good-to-go!

As a writer, I do find that mornings are the best time for creative activity. If I can get three or four hours of earnest writing in before lunchtime, I'm a happy person. I feel good about the laundry, shopping, and house cleaning that follows along in the afternoon.

But, what does one do on the days when the dreaded writer's block occur es and writing seems like a chore akin to ironing white cotton shirts? Walks? Chocolate? Lunch with friends?

I suggest morning pages. According to Julia Cameron, in her book "The Artist's Way", morning pages are a great way to get unstuck. I love morning pages! I've been doing morning pages for ten years now and they have helped me past many a beastly mental roadblock. Morning pages are three pages of stream of conscience writing that gets the garbage out of your mind and starts the creative juices flowing. I highly recommend this to writers or artist of any ilk. I also recommend Julia's book.

Have a good morning, afternoon, and evening!

The Deepest Cut of All

2011-08-08T08:11:00.001-06:00

The other day the doorbell rang. It had been one of those crazy days, and I was downstairs getting things ready for company to arrive. Hoping my guests hadn't shown up earlier than planned on, I hastened up the stairs to answer. An older man I didn't recognize stood on my doorstep, a grim expression on his face. Before I could say anything, he gave me a doleful look, then said, "Ma'am, were you aware that your pine tree over there is a nuisance to our power lines?"

Stunned, I followed his gaze and glanced at the tall pine tree. It was a blue spruce, something my husband and I had planted years ago to the side of our home. It was at least ten feet away from the nearest power line and to my way of thinking, it was not a problem. However, I was given little choice in the matter. I was informed that it would need to be trimmed, and as such, a tree cutting service would be coming by within the week to take care of the problem. It was explained that if the cut was made now, most of the tree could be saved.

I was handed a paper explaining that the power company had the right to trim any trees that threatened the well-being of power lines, and with that, the dour man left. When my husband returned home, I showed him the paper and shared what had been said earlier by the power representative. Kennon was about as amused as I was. When our home had first been built, we had carefully planned our landscaping, planting grass and trees where they could flourish. That particular tree had been placed several feet away from the nearest power line. Saddened by the decision that had been made without our consent, we ventured outside to take a closer look at the situation, but could not see how our beautiful tree posed a problem.

A few days passed and one afternoon as my husband and I were returning from town, we spotted the tree-cutting service truck. It was down the street at a neighbor's yard where several trees were receiving an interesting "hair-cut." Slowly that dreaded truck made its way closer to our home. Grabbing my camera, I went outside to take a final shot of our tree . . . before it was cut into a humiliating shape.

The tree still lives, but the unflattering cut will forever leave its mark. The other day as I gazed sadly at what is left of it, I was struck with an analogy. How often in our lives do we make similar cuts in the lives of those around us? Perhaps we think we are doing a good thing, pointing out the flaws others possess. But when we do so, does it help the situation, or make it worse? Are the wounds inflicted necessary . . . or is there a better way to assist those who, in our opinion, need a good "trimming?" Something to think about.

AND NOW ABOUT THAT CLUTTER . . .

2011-08-04T07:42:00.000-06:00

My office is a cluttered mess. The rest of my house is just fine; it's just my office. I'm basically a neat, orderly person, but somehow my office gets out of hand at times. It's the catch-all for things I mean to look at later or my husband doesn't know where else to put. On my walls are a poster of one of my early books, an award with a framed copy of The Bracelet, a painting of one of my book covers, four framed certificates, a picture of the Oquirrh Mountain Temple, drawings by four of my grandchildren, a small framed picture with the names of a previous Primary class surrounding the Savior, a painting of a horse by one of my daughters, and half a dozen family photographs. Oh, and a calendar with big squares to write in and kittens to make a grandson, who is crazy about kittens, happy when he visits me.

My desk is worse. Along with a stack of envelopes that need to be filed, a box of tissue, and the DSL modem, there's an accumulation of mementos from friends and readers such as a decorated rock, a sugar Easter egg, a purple stemmed goblet from a Mystery Dinner, a handmade ceramic pitcher, a plush goose, a paperweight style award, and a heart-shaped box. That's just the top. The so-called writing surface holds my monitor, keyboard, telephone, rolodex, pens, pencils, piles of paper, a couple of small files, notebooks, a bottle of lotion, and one of my sets of scriptures. That's also where the bare bones of my work in progress resides.

I'll spare you the details of three floor to ceiling bookcases, a printer, a paper cutter, four file cabinets, two plastic bins and all the accumulated boxes, office equipment, and sundry items that adorn or occupy space under an eight feet long table. On one shelf of the bookcase is my stack of "to read" books. At least I try to keep the piles neat.

I already said I'm basically a neat, orderly person so every once in awhile, but not often enough, I tear the whole room apart, go through every paper, clean every file, shred, discard, clean, and reorganize. No matter how much I itch to do a thorough cleaning while writing, I don't. Most of the time I vacuum, dust what I can, and keep the piles neat. A thorough cleaning only happens between books.

My writing style is a lot like my office or my office is the way it is because of my writing style. I research before and during without throwing anything out. I never know what I might need. Sometimes I outline; sometimes I don't. I write notes to myself. I create lists of names and characteristics. I utilize two notebooks, a file folder, post-its, and several notepads. I jot down ideas. I make quick scene outlines. Sometimes I print out a few pages for fast reference when I'm writing a follow up scene. Add to that my notes for reviews in progress.

Once I think the story is in pretty good shape, I send it off to my beta readers. I don't throw anything away. When I get the readers' feedback, I plunge back into the story, fixing this, fixing that, and discover ideas have been circulating in my head while waiting that need to be incorporated into the story or used to strengthen a point. When I'm satisfied I've done the best I can do, I send it to my editor. I still don't clean up or discard anything.

After varying lengths of time, if and when I get an acceptance, the rewrites begin and I refer to my notes and scribbles. I'm glad I didn't throw anything away. I add exchanges with my editor, print outs of various stages , etc. to my files and clutter.

At last the book is off to the printer and out of my hands. Do I clean up all the clutter at last? Not really. I scoop it all into a file to sort through later. You see, I started another book while waiting for word from my beta readers; added to it while waiting for a yes or no from my editor, and I have a whole new pile of clutter.

Summer has killed my brain!

2011-08-03T15:02:00.005-06:00

I had big plans this summer; declutter, finish my next novel, plant flowers around my house and in pots and hanging baskets, get organized. I had done any of those things. I've had fun with my kids being out of school, I've had fun teaching tons of Zumba classes (everyone needs subs while they go to Hawaii . . . and I stay here.) But somehow during all of the busy-ness of summer, I've forgotten how to stay focused and get some writing done.

So, while I was sitting here, staring at the "new post" screen, trying to come up with something to write, I decided to post about how to get the creative juices flowing. Sure, this is going to benefit me the most, but I figured, heck, maybe someone else out there is suffering from summer brain disorder like I am.

Here are a few suggestions to help you get your creative juices flowing.

1. Do research. Finding information regarding your story could provide jumping off points for fresh new ideas.
2. Go to the library. This could be a great change of pace for finding some creativity. The smell and feel of books alone can conjure up new inspiration in writers.
3. Read. Reading can be a great way to inspire creativity. Read a passage from a book you love, one that will transport you into that writer’s world. Or pick up a magazine and read about a topic you’ve never read about and that takes you out of your comfort zone.
4. Take a walk. Get lost in something for a while and this could spark some new ideas.
5. Sift through the thesaurus. Pick five new words to use in the next page you write. Pick words you don’t normally use.
6. Edit an old piece of writing of yours or even a piece of writing from a newspaper, a book, or a magazine. Make it more creative.
7. Don't underestimate the power of "Little Daily Rituals". Figure out what helps you think most clearly and creatively, and use that process to prepare yourself to write for the day.
8. Make sure you are alert and have energy. Drink a glass of orange juice to bump up your energy right before you start. Or to take a ten minute, brisk walk so your blood is flowing freely.
9. Music. Sometime listening to certain types of music can inspire and set a mood, trigger images and visions of scenes and settings.
10. Brainstorm. Find a quiet place, take a paper and pen (or a laptop or desktop computer, then, start by thinking about the challenge you are facing. Is it coming up with an idea? Knowing where your plot goes next? Naming your hero or heroine with a name that doesn't sound lame? Once you've identified the problem, write it down. Then start letting your brain run wild with ideas to solve this problem. Jot down every idea, no matter how ridiculous it seems at the time. You're brainstorming, not creating a Pulitzer Prize winner.
11. Exercise Your Mind (And Body) - This will get your energy levels up, release endorphins to help you feel good and empowered.
12. Try to write every day. Even if it's only a journal entry about how your day went.
13. Probably the best tip . . . BELIEVE IN YOURSELF! If you do, you can do anything!

Now that I've completed my list, I am actually anxious and excited to get back to work on my next novel. If you have some great tips on getting creative juices flowing, post them in the comment section. I'd love to know what works for you!

Dreams

2011-07-29T06:02:00.002-06:00

The Reader's Digest featured a quote I've pondered, and I'm sure it will be food for thought for quite some time. Author Fran Lebowitz said, "The best kind of fame is a writer's fame. Just enough to get a good table at a restaurant and not enough for someone to interrupt you while you're eating."
Do you ever dream about fame? My dreams have never encompassed anything like that at all, but maybe that's because I'm not currently from New York and having lived there for two years, though we enjoyed it immensely, it is not a place that I envision myself ever living long enough to need a good table at any restaurant.
What kind of fame do you dream about? Not in my wildest dreams do I ever imagine I could make the New York Times Bestseller List, but it would be nice. Now about being chosen as Oprah's pick of the month? I could handle that. I think it would be fun to go on national TV and explain why I've chosen to write novels that have no four letter words, no graphic sex and no gratuitous violence.
However, because I have chosen to write that way, I know with certainty that Oprah interview will never happen. Still, when I have nothing better to do (driving that 15 hour stretch of Interstate 15 from California to Idaho Falls) I could daydream that some wonderful producer would decided it was time to revert to the glamour days of movies when Ross Hunter produced all those lavish Doris Day movies) and would see the beauty of my settings and find my characters irresistible.
If we give up dreaming, do we give up trying? I don't think so. But it never hurts to keep dreaming because one day those dreams just might come true. If I write enough -- If I become a good enough writer -- if I never quit trying to improve --well, I believe in miracles. And maybe I wouldn't mind being interrupted while I was eating dinner in some fancy New York restaurant after an interview with Oprah.

Bits of Wisdom

2011-07-28T10:49:00.002-06:00

I have a file snuggled into my file drawer between Bathroom Renovation and Budget, entitled Bits of Wisdom. When I hear or read a gem of thought that inspires me, or makes me laugh, I write it down and toss it into my Bits of Wisdom file. And, I will boldly confess--sometimes I tear a thought out of a magazine at the dentist's office. Confession is good for the soul. Did I read that somewhere? It's probably in my file.

When I get discouraged or need a thought to cheer me or someone else, I go to my little treasure trove of truths and pluck out a pearl of wisdom to help me through the day.

I'd like to share some gems with you.

One who makes a mistake and does not correct it, makes another mistake. Confucius

You may be the only scripture some people ever read.

Against every great and noble endeavor are a thousand mediocre minds. Einstein

The proverb warns that, "You should not bite the hand that feeds you." But, maybe you should, if it prevents you from feeding yourself.
Thomas S. Szasz

The highest form of wisdom is kindness. The Talmud

If God is your co-pilot, SWAP SEATS!

So, I hope there was something there to lift, inspire, or make you laugh. Have a great day!

Pioneers Then and Now

2011-07-27T10:03:00.007-06:00

Hanging on the wall of the visitors center at Martin’s cove in Wyoming is a carved wooden sign that reads simply, “It is good to look to the past to gain appreciation for the present and perspective for the future.”

As I think of my own family history, I am reminded of a couple of years ago. My dad and I were sitting out on his porch swing and he was telling me the stories from our family history.

Generations later, I am thankful for stories of my heritage. For the faith, dedication, and sacrifices that were made and I am grateful for my lineage. It is my desire to emulate the good virtues that these early pioneers were known for.

That same day as my dad and I sat and talked, I would just like to insert here that my dad and I have spent many hours on that old porch swing talking. I have been taught some valuable lessons, learned some life lessons, heard some great jokes, and been blessed with priceless memories there. It’s one of my most favorite places to be. It’s just one more thing I love my dad for.

Anyway, we got on the subject of Martin’s Cove and Rock Creek. I had never been there. So My dad took out family there last summer. It was a short trip but one I am sure I will never forget.

There is a bronze monument and granite marker with the names of the thirteen people buried at Rock Creek. On it is a dedication from
Pres. Gordon B.Hickley.

“Rock Creek is sacred and holy ground… how tremendous their heroism in the face of odds that are almost impossible to understand… in terms of self sacrifice, in terms of courage, in terms of faith, in terms of facing up to adversity, there is no greater example in the history of this nation… we have a great inheritance… a tremendous responsibility to live up to it. God bless us to be faithful, to be true to that which meant so much to those who died here…”

As I look to the past I have a great appreciation for the present as I think of another pioneer who has had a tremendous influence on me.

That would be my own mother.

Many church members have no personal relation to the early Utah pioneers. But there are other pioneers. Many members of the church themselves are pioneers in the fact that they are the first in their family to accept the gospel. This is where my mother comes in.

She was a covert to the church in Denmark when she was 18. The Tabernacle Choir played a big part in her initial interest in the Church, which a few years later, she became a member of the choir.

My mother could identify with friends and relatives turning away from her for her beliefs. The day she came by ship to America there were very few family members to see her off. Indeed she put up with misunderstanding and unkindness for the sake of her gospel beliefs. But she had a testimony that could never be questioned and it was her faith and her testimony that defined my mother to her dying day.

Our later day Prophet Thomas S. Monson spoke of how we each can learn much from our early pioneer ancestors, whose struggles and heartaches were met with resolute courage and an abiding faith in a living God.

“We honor those who endured incredible hardships. We praise their names and reflect on their sacrifices.
What about our time? Are there pioneering experiences for us? Will future generations reflect with gratitude on our efforts, our examples? You young [people] can indeed be pioneers in courage, in faith, in charity, in determination.
“You can strengthen one another; you have the capacity to notice the unnoticed. When you have eyes to see, ears to hear, and hearts to feel, you can reach out and rescue others of your age."

Elder Holland tells us in this months Ensign,

"What are we seeing in these examples of faithful pioneers? It is what we have seen down through the dispensations of time and certainly down through this dispensation.

We are seeing what we saw when the Saints fled New York and Pennsylvania and Ohio and Missouri and then fled their beloved Nauvoo across an ice-bound river with the temple soon burning in the distance. It is what we saw when those same people buried their dead in large numbers at Winter Quarters, followed by leaving isolated graves, sometimes as tiny as a bread box, in Wyoming near Chimney Rock or at one of the many crossings of the Sweetwater River or in a snow bank at Martin’s Cove.

What we saw then and what we see now among the blessed Saints the world over is faith in God, faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, faith in the Prophet Joseph Smith, faith in the reality of this work and the truthfulness of its message. It was faith that took a boy into a grove of trees to pray, and it was faith that enabled him to get up off his knees, place himself in God’s hands for the Restoration of the gospel, and ultimately march toward his own martyrdom scarcely two dozen short years later.

I don’t know how else mothers and fathers could leave those babies in those makeshift graves on the plains and then, with one last look, weep their way forward toward Zion. The fundamental driving force in these stories is faith—rock-ribbed, furnace-refined, event-filled, spiritually girded faith that this is the very Church and kingdom of God and that when you are called, you go."

I am grateful for my pioneer heritage then and now.
These stories I have shared and more are indeed faith promoting, they are a source of inspiration to me, they give me courage, they strengthen my faith, and these people are a blessing in my life. I marvel at the courage the pioneers had. They have set the way and made an example of the way in which I would like to pattern my life with their determination and their devotion to our Savior. May I find in my own life through good times as well as trials and tribulations, that I can have the same kind of dedication, fortitude, commitment.

Words of Wisdom

2011-07-26T06:01:00.003-06:00

We are called to "Seek ye out of the best books words of wisdom" (Doctrine and Covenants 88:118). One of the many things I love about books is how a really good writer can express something very poignant and deep, something that really touches the soul but is difficult for us mere mortals to put into words.

I love coming across these gems which give real insight into human nature, clarify deep truths, or inspire the reader. They can be found most often in books by the gifted classic authors, such as this wonderfully patriotic speech by John of Gaunt from Shakespeare's Richard II (Act II scene i).

"This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle,
This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
This other Eden, demi-paradise ...
This happy breed of men, this little world;
This precious stone set in the silver sea ...
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England."

But I have also found that modern works often include wonderful little nuggets of wisdom. Consider these segments from "Blue Shoes and Happiness" by Alexander McCall Smith.

First, Precious Ramotswe remembers her father:
"One day she would join him, she knew, whatever people said about how we came to an end when we took our last breath. Some people mocked you if you said that you joined others when your time came. Well, they could laugh, those clever people, but we surely had to hope and a life without hope of any sort was no life: it was a sky without stars, a landscape of sorrow and emptiness. If she thought she would never see Obed Ramostswe again it would make her shiver with loneliness. As it was, the thought that he was watching her gave a texture and continuity to her life."

How beautifully the writer, in the person of Precious, expresses that wonderful hope and what it would mean to be without it. In the same book, and from the viewpoint of the same character, he expresses how I feel about swearing - something it took me an entire blog post to convey far less eloquently:

"To use strong language, she thought, was a sign of bad temper and lack of concern for others. Such people were not clever or bold simply because they used such language; each time they opened their mouths they proclaimed 'I am a person who is poor in words.'"

How much we can improve ourselves, our understanding, and our education from such wonderful books! Choosing and reading "the best books" can be an enriching and enlightening experience, and can ultimately help us become better writers as we emulate these masters of the craft, and better people as we absorb the lessons they teach us.

The best books, of course, are the scriptures. My current favourite mantras, which I have learned the hard way to be some of the truest things ever written, are:

"Wickedness never was happiness" (Alma 41:3)
"If ye are prepared ye shall not fear" (Doctrine and Covenants 38:30)

and, of course,
"Seek ye out of the best books words of wisdom" (Doctrine and Covenants 88:118).

Discovering a World of Light

2011-07-18T10:39:00.000-06:00

One night I lay in bed unable to sleep, no particular reason, it seems everyone has one of those nights now and then when sleep doesn't come as easily as others. As I lay there, I noticed a little green light high on the ceiling. Smoke alarm; no big deal. Then I noticed a little red light on my husband's bureau. Again easy to explain. He'd plugged in his phone to its charger. Another little red light on the small television, illuminated dials on our alarm clocks, even his electric razer sports a tiny light. Had I wandered through the quiet house, I would have found my cell phone and camera plugged in in my office with their little lights glowing away and not far away the little light on my computer and another on the printer. In the hall I would have found the carbon dioxide alarm with it's little light and each room of the house with its smoke alarm light, tiny glowing lights on other TV's, the microwave, and other electronic equipment throughout the house. Each piece of our alarm system has its own little light as well.

I felt like laughing; when did my life become defined by tiny lights? Even as a child, I watched for a tiny bit of glowing red. From my bed I could see the stove that heated our house. When I could see a glow coming from a tiny crack where a door didn't fit as tight as it should have, I knew Daddy or my brothers had started the fire and the room was warm enough to get out of bed.

Life has changed a great deal during my life, but it's funny how we still look toward light as a signal that all is well, or to expect trouble. We need light to find our way, to carry out our daily tasks, and to enjoy beauty. Light has been defined in so many ways, many with religious overtones. Even Christ has been called the Light of the World.

There's one essential bit of light some writers (and other professionals) overlook in their lives. There's a tendency to become so obsessed with writing, getting published, the dream world created, or other aspects of the author's world that living this life is forgotten or shoved far down the priority list. That creates a hollow shell to draw on and the writer is left with little to create from reality and shallow emotions to convey in print. I know writers who shut themselves in a room or office and forbid their families to interrupt them for anything less than fire or blood. They don't enjoy the everyday give and take of family relationships; some never form enduring relationships at all. Some depend on someone else to provide their support and perform their share of the menial tasks involved in running a home while they pursue their writing. These writers cheat their families, their potential readers, and themselves. An early teacher told me the best writers and artists create their masterpieces from life; the way light focuses on an object makes all the difference in the world, the way spiritual light touches the soul reveals both what is seen and the observer.

I know writers who write with one hand while balancing a baby on their laps, writers who coach little league, writers who are PTA or Church teachers or leaders, writers who home school, writers with full time careers, writers who take time to play with their children, to garden, to travel with loved ones, and writers who take time to live life to the fullest. Their enthusiasm for life shines through their work. Their difficulties and challenges make their words richer and more meaningful, filled with the light of life. Making time to write is a challenge for most writers, but it works out far better than trying to find time for anything other than writing.

Passion

2011-07-15T05:33:00.002-06:00

What makes the difference between one manuscript and another? One book and the next? Why does one story grab us by the heartstrings and not let go, pulling us into the very heart, mind and soul of the heroine/hero? And why can we easily walk away from the next story without even discovering the ending?
I believe it's because the first author put her passion into her story and the second simply wrote a story. Passion is everything in life--whether it's passion for words, stories, people, ideas, passion for life or for living.
Passion is the spark that sets your book apart from other writers. If you feel indifferent about what you're writing, your reader will immediately pick up on that. If you don't infuse your characters with that passion, they will remain lifeless, two-dimensional, and forgettable.
Passion is the sparkle in your heroine's eye, the basic motivating force that gets her through her trials and conflicts, the drive that pushes her beyond the ordinary. Let your passion live through her and excite your readers, drawing them into the magic dream you've woven.

The China Book and Liberty

2011-07-14T14:00:00.002-06:00

The China book is finished and off to my editor. It was a difficult book to write, not because of the extensive research, or the shortened duration of time to get it done, but because of the subject matter. I became quite sick at heart because of what the Chinese people had to suffer at the hands of Mao Tse-tung. He was not a nice person. I used many first hand autobiographical book sources in my research, and their stories were wrenching. I also spoke to several people whose families escaped from mainland China when the Communists took over. They went to Hong Kong and Taiwan, and they were very candid in their feelings of Chairman Mao and the devastation he brought to the country they love.Therefore, it amazes me that anyone would say they admire Mao Tse-tung. All one has to do is a little bit of research to discover he is not a man to use as a role model for anything. Of course, even in America, there are people with strong yearnings for a Socialist/Communist government who admire the brutality of Marx and Engles' philosophy. And it is brutal. You look at any leader and administration who has twisted their government into a Communist regime and it is always done through terror, torture, and brutality.I am so grateful that I live in the United States of America. I thank divine Providence that this country of America was founded on principles of law and liberty. I honor the Founding Fathers for their deep investigation of all types of government which enabled them to forge such a miraculous document--the Constitution of the United States.I ask that you think long and hard about where "we the people" want to guide this country in the coming crucial years. We still have the amazing ability to choose. Let's not lose it through apathy.

My Memories of Valerie

2011-07-12T05:35:00.007-06:00

Jennie has already written a wonderful tribute to Val, but I wanted to add my own to the many others out there. After all, she was one of our own - her name is still listed to the right as a contributor to this blog - and her passing has come as a terrible shock to me. I knew she was ill, but her emails were so upbeat about the treatments she was receiving and how well she was enduring and responding to them that I really had no idea her time was so short.

In 1997 I was almost 30 years old and keen to make headway on my lifetime ambition to write a novel. I was also a recent convert to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (although less-active due to my family situation) and had just discovered that there was a whole genre of Mormon fiction. So, thinking (wrongly) that this was an easy way to get published, I wrote an LDS novel and sent it to Deseret Book, who rejected it, and then to Covenant.

I still have - and treasure - the letter I received from Valerie in response. She said that she had read my book and while it wasn't suitable (and it really wasn't - it was about a sister missionary who falls in love with someone she is teaching) she liked my style and I should try writing something else. I was so thrilled to have such a wonderful endorsement of my efforts, and I still say it's the best rejection letter anyone ever received. Val and I corresponded and together we came up with the idea for Haven which was published by Covenant in 2000. I needed a lot of guidance in those days, and Valerie was a wonderful editor to work with. I still recognise whole passages in that book which were written or rewritten by her. My second book, A World Away, was also a collaboration with Val, but she left Covenant soon afterwards and it was another seven years before I could find another editor who believed in me the way she had.

In the process of working together on those books I got to know a little about Valerie, and we became good friends. So when I visited America I was a little nervous about meeting her. Knowing how capable and intelligent she was, and that she was single, I imagined a poised and intimidating Sheri Dew type figure. I was so relieved to discover that she was lovely, approachable and friendly. I stayed at her home for a couple of nights, we bonded over the cats, and we attended General Conference together in April 2003 sitting in the third row from the front in seats marked "For guests of the First Presidency". (We really were guests of the First Presidency, we weren't just being cheeky. Somewhere I have the photographs to prove it.)

It was through Valerie that I got to know someone else who means a great deal to me - Kerry Blair - and through the two of them that our group, the V-Formation, came into existence. Reading back through Val's posts I'm struck by her insight, her cheerfulness and her ability with words. As far as I know despite helping many writers produce their books she never wrote one herself. That's a pity - she certainly had the skill to do so.

She has probably appeared on the dedication or acknowledgements pages of many books, but she'll be on at least one more. On 4th July I flew to Mallorca for a family holiday. The next day I idly commented to my husband that I'd run out of people to dedicate books to, having resorted, in Honeymoon Heist (Val's review can be read here http://vformation.blogspot.com/2011/01/honeymoon-heist-by-anna-jones-buttimore.html) to dedicating the book to the hotel I stayed in to do the research, and the makers of my favourite TV show. My husband suggested I dedicate it to an editor. That evening I went down to the public pay computer in the hotel lobby where I got ten minutes' internet access for a Euro, and that's when I learned that Valerie had died.

If it hadn't been for Val I wouldn't have got to know the wonderful supportive circle of friends I share this blog with. I wouldn't have had four novels published, and two more in the pipeline. I owe her a great deal, and wish I'd told her that. I may only have met her once, but I counted her a very dear friend, and I will miss her tremendously.

Writing--A Half-Century of Change

2011-07-11T12:53:00.002-06:00

So I hit a landmark occasion over the weekend and can now claim that I am a half-century in age. Wow . . . when you word it that way, it makes one sound rather old. ;) And since I seem to be approaching AARP mode, I feel it's only natural that I wax eloquently about some of the changes I've observed during my loooonnngg years in this mortal existence, especially as a writer.

First of all, despite what my children may think, we did have access to items like books when I was a kid. ;) Parchment documents were before my time. The big change here would be a subject matter that has been discussed lately on this blog: the advent of items like the Kindle or Nook. Books are now available in a computer format for easy download on these devices. Gone are the days when one could browse happily in the bosom of a favorite bookstore. Now most books (Hardbound editions are still available) can be purchased online, or in larger bookstore chains that are surviving the impact of E-Books.

While I'm enthralled with the idea of possessing an E-book reader that contains an unlimited library of books that can be carried around in one's purse, I will still want my old-fashioned books. In fact, to honor my noteworthy birthday this year, my kids got together and created a new library for me near the family room of our home, complete with brand new bookshelves. They are already filled with my collection of books, and most are organized into specific genres. I'm calling this my Kindle, the home edition. ;)

Another change: keyboarding had an entirely different meaning when I was in high school. It meant spending an hour in typing class every day, learning how to use an electric typewriter. In college, I enhanced this skill by taking advanced typing classes, figuring this knowledge could help me secure gainful employment. And those skills have come in handy with the career that developed in the writing world, so all of that training was not a waste of time. I can type faster than any of my kids, and they are impressed with my dexterity.

My first manuscript was composed on a sleek electric typewriter that was top of the line in its day. While it was impressive and even possessed a small memory capacity, if I decided to make any changes in a chapter, it meant retyping the entire thing. Let's just say that I was thrilled with my first computer, and the word processor it contained. This advancing technology has made that aspect of writing much easier. My current best friend: a nifty new laptop my husband bought for me last year. It uses Windows 7 and possesses more memory that I seem to have at the moment. =D

Back in the day, research for my books meant a series of interviews, hours spent at the local library, and traveling about the countryside. I still travel about the countryside when researching a setting for a book, but I use the internet to research details I can find at the click of a button. Instead of seeking out an expert mechanic to learn how to use the latest jack while changing a tire, I can use a Google search to find out the same information in much less time. I also cheat these days and tend to use an online dictionary and thesaurus. It saves time, and often comes up with more meanings or synonyms than I can find in my worn reference books in my new library downstairs.

Selling books these days is very different. My first book was published in 1994. To get word out, it meant advertising in newspapers, radio interviews, and booksignings. Booksignings still exist, and advertising compliments of newspapers and interviews still take place, but most of that can be done once again, compliments of the internet. Most newspapers and radio stations are available online. Utilizing items like Facebook, Twitter, Blogger, and online groups like the ForeverFriends Readers' list, grants access to an untold audience.

All in all, there have been many good changes during the past few years. While I will always treasure old-fashioned items like my books, I am impressed with the technology that in my opinion, has made it much easier to write.

Tribute to One of Our Own

2011-07-06T22:00:00.003-06:00

It was a painful shock to learn Valerie Holladay passed away this past holiday weekend. Her last email was so upbeat and positive, filled with faith and hope, I'd begun to believe she was going to beat some pretty daunting odds.

When Val went to work for Covenant Communications, I was one of the first authors assigned to her. She was my editor longer than any other editor I've ever worked with. We developed a relationship that went beyond author/editor. We became friends and our friendship endured through all the years since she left Covenant and went on to other things.

Having been a newspaper reporter and editor, I thought I knew a lot about writing and editing, but from Val I learned fiction and journalism are two different things. We laughed so many times about my tendency to change a character's name in the middle of a manuscript and other little idiosyncrasies. Every writer makes unintended puns, uses a word or phrase that can be taken more ways than one, and Val kept a little notebook of those unintended humorous accidents. I discovered from her that my editor was as fiercely determined as I to make each of my books the best it could possibly be. Sometimes I'd look at a suggested change and I couldn't tell her words from my own. Other times she'd suggest a change I didn't like, but I knew if my version didn't work for her, it wouldn't work for my readers either, so something had to be fixed. Often it would be something entirely different from what either of us first wrote or suggested. Valerie was always patient and generous with her time as she made opportunities to teach as well as edit.

Valerie was more than an editor to me. She was a dear friend who supported me through my own and my family's bouts with cancer. I was someone she could talk to as she wrestled with her mother's illness and the various problems she faced. We laughed together, we cried together, went to lunch together, and loved cats.

Where Val is now there surely must be a plethora of cats or it would hardly be heaven to her. She nursed back to health so many abandoned cats. She loved and worried over her many kitties as though they were her children. Sometimes, when money was tight, she scrimped on her own groceries to feed her precious pets. I and the other writers on the V-Formation often sent her cute or funny pictures of cats, teased her a little about her darlings, but understood that her gentle soul thrived not only on helping writers, but on the love her feline babies showered on her.

Val's life included her work for several publishers, co-editing the AML publication and serving a term as treasurer. She taught English and creative writing at BYU and UVU, worked for the Church, co-authored a book about Provo, worked as a freelance editor, mentored many promising writers, and the list could go on and on. She spent a good share of her life promoting literary works for the LDS community and working to improve the quality of writing by LDS authors.

Val's faith in God was strong and her understanding of not only her own religion, but many others, touched not only me, but strengthened those around her. Though she never married, she loved her nieces and nephews as though they were her own sons and daughters, and she made great sacrifices to always be there for her family. In her last weeks, she often remarked on her sister's kindness through this ordeal, and the thoughtfulness of her brothers, their families, and her ward.

I'd like to finish this tribute to a special lady with a few of her own words:

"Kerry, I read your book in one sitting (with the Easter chocolates and my diet Dr. Pepper in one hand, the book in the other, the kitten wrapped up in a blanket on my cheek). My only breaks from the book were to hydrate the kitty and take him to the litter box. What a lovely, lovely book."

"I remember how I felt when my mother died. While part of me envies someone who has finished this mortal test, the other part of me just feels the sadness of being separated from someone who has been such an important part of my life."

"I think you do a terrific job with reviews, Jennie and the balance seems just right to me. And to paraphrase Cheri (and I'm a teacher so I agree 100%), If my students all loved me all the time, I'd worry that I wasn't doing my job right. I don't know who told you that you were a meanie, but even not knowing the source, I'd have to say, consider the source on this one."

"I was at a convenience/gas store the other day and talked to a woman who was driving with her sister to Montana, along with 4 dogs, about that many kids, and 10 cats - which was why they needed two SUVs - really, no lie. I must say it warmed the cockles of my heart to hear of someone else with cats in the double digits :-)"

"Now off to school to meet with students who are revising papers and getting ready for our final (which was a cakewalk, so they could focus on revising their papers, which isn't a cakewalk for many of them). Oh well, at least they're now familiar with the concept of revision, even if it's a somewhat foreign concept. Does anyone here remember a day when you whipped out a piece of writing and thought it was actually as good as it could get and didn't need anything more?"

"Writers have to live with marketing, not a fun thing. Some writers are more marketers than writers - I'm sure we can think of lots of examples - and some are more writers than marketers. But regardless, if you have a good product, you want to get it into people's hands and that means speaking up."

Just imagine a world, or say, a group of friends, where no whining ever occurs. Sheesh, it pains me to even consider it. Whining is not only therapeutic, it's what bonds people together since we're sharing honest fears and feelings. IMHO whining only becomes detrimental when it becomes threatening and those words are put into actions, for instance, ... "I'm so depressed, I'm going to kill him/her/them etc. and out comes the knife/rope/poison... But if we all took a vow of not whining - not that it isn't a noble gesture and a vow against "public" whining might be worth doing since we have to be selective about our whining - after all, not everyone understands... For example, writers who have yet to publish might not understand that getting a book accepted and into print doesn't mean Nirvana and eternal bliss."

"More later, my friends, thanks for prayers. This is a strange experience but there are many, many beautiful and amazing blessings." -- This last was sent to the group who share this blog shortly before she passed away.

So long for now, my friend. You're leaving a big hole in my heart, but one day we'll be together again in that cul-de-sac in heaven we goosies have long joked about and dreamed of.

Other tributes to Valerie Holliday can be found here:

Annette Lyon

Julie Wright

Andrew Hall

Eza Taft Benson on the Key to a Country's Greatness

2011-07-03T05:56:00.002-06:00

"In the year 1831 Alexis de Tocqueville, the famous French historian, came to our country. . . .Here is his own stirring explanation of the greatness of America:

" 'I sought for the greatness and genius of America in her commodious harbors and her ample rivers, and it was not there; in her rich mines and her vast world commerce, and it was not there. Not until I went to the churches of America and heard her pulpits aflame with righteousness did I understand the secret of her genius and power. America is great because she is good, and if America ever ceases to be good, America will cease to be great' (Prophets, Principles and National Survival, compiled by Jerreld L. Newquist, p.60.)

"How strong is our will to remain free - to be good? False thinking and false ideologies, dressed in the most pleasing forms, quietly--almost without our knowing it--seek to reduce our moral defenses and to captivate our minds. They entice with bright promises of security, cradle-to-cradle guarantees of many kinds. They masquerade under various names, but all may be recognized by one thing--one thing they all have in common: to erode away character and man's freedom to think and act for himself." (Ezra Taft Benson, "Watchman, Warn the Wicked," Ensign July 1973, 39)

The Star-Spangled Banner - continued

2011-07-02T06:09:00.004-06:00

Continuing Isaac Asimov's article:

"After it was all finished, Key wrote a four-stanza poem telling the events of the night. Called "The Defense of Fort M'Henry," it was published in newspapers and swept the nation. Someone noted that the words fit an old English tune called "To Anacreon in Heaven," a difficult melody with an uncomfortably large vocal range. For obvious reasons, Key's work became know as "The Star-Spangled Banner," and in 1931 Congress declared it the official anthem of the United States.
Now that you know the story, here are the words. Presumably, the old doctor is speaking. This is what he asks Key:
"Oh! say, can you see, by the dawn's early light,
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming?
Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming?
And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof thro' the night that our flag was still there.
Oh! say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?

Ramparts, in case you don't know, are the protective walls or other elevations that surround a fort. The first stanza asks a question. The second gives an answer:

On the shore, dimly seen thro' the mist of the deep,
Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam,
In full glory reflected, now shines on the stream;
'Tis the star-spangled banner. Oh! long may it wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

"The towering steep" is again, the ramparts. The bombardment has failed, and the British can do nothing but sail away, their mission a failure. In the third stanza, I feel Key allows himself to gloat over the American triumph. In the aftermath of the bombardment, Key probably was in no mood to act otherwise.

During World War II, when the British were our staunchest allies, this third stanza was not sung. However, I know it, so here it is:

And where is that band who so vauntingly swore
That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion
A home and a country should leave us no more?
Their blood has washed out their foul footstep's pollution.
No refuge could save the hireling and slave
From the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave,
And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

The fourth stanza, a pious hope for the future, should be sung more slowly than the other three and with even deeper feeling:

"Oh! thus be it ever when freemen shall stand
Between their loved homes and the war's desolation,
Blest with vict'ry and peace, may the Heav'n-rescued land
Praise the Pow'r that hath made and preserved us a nation.
Then conquer we must, for our cause it is just,
And this be our motto - "In God is our trust."
And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave."

I hope you will look at the national anthem with new eyes. Listen to it, the next time you have a chance, with new ears.

And don't let them ever take it away!" Isaac Asimov

The Star Spangled Banner

2011-07-01T07:29:00.003-06:00

I LOVE our national anthem. I can't sing it - I cry through the whole thing. I have an article I'd like to share - it's long, so since no one blogs on Saturday and Sunday, maybe I'll break it up and post portions all three days so by the 4th of July, you'll have it all. It was written by Isaac Asimov, the noted author.

"In 1812, the United States went to war with Great Britain, primarily over freedom of the seas. We were in the right. For two years, we held off the British, even though we were still a rather weak country.
Great Britain was in a life-and-death struggle with Napoleon. In fact, just as the United States declared war, Napoleon marched off to invade Russia. If he won, as everyone expected, he would control Europe, and Great Britain would be isolated. It was no time for her to be involved in an American war.
At first, our seamen proved better than the British. After we won a battle on Lake Erie in 1813, the American commander Oliver Hazard Perry sent the message "We have met the enemy and they are ours."
However, the weight of the British navy beat down our ships eventually. New England, hard-hit by a tightening blockade, threatened secession.
Meanwhile, Napoleon was beaten in Russia and in 1814 was forced to abdicate. Great Britain now turned its attention to the Unites States, launching a three-pronged attack. The northern prong was to come down Lake Champlain toward New York and seize parts of New England. The southern prong was to go up the Mississippi, take New Orleans and paralyze the west. The central prong was to head for the mid-Atlantic states and then attack Baltimore, the greatest port south of New York.
If Baltimore was taken, the nation, which still hugged the Atlantic coast, could be split in two. The fate of the United States, then, rested to a large extent on the success or failure of the central prong.
The British reached the American coast and, on August 14, 1814, took Washington, D.C. Then they moved up the Chesapeake Bay toward Baltimore. On September 12, they arrived and found 1000 men in Fort McHenry, whose guns controlled the harbor. If the British wished to take Baltimore, they would have to take the fort.
On one of the British ships was an aged physician, William Beanes, who had been arrested in Maryland and brought along as a prisoner. Francis Scott Key, a lawyer and friend of the physician, had come to the ship to negotiate his release. The British captain was willing, but the two Americans would have to wait. It was now the night of September 13, and the bombardment of Fort McHenry was about to start.
As twilight deepened, Key and Beanes saw the American flag flying over Fort McHenry. Through the night, they heard bombs bursting and saw the red glare of rockets. They knew the fort was resisting and the American flag was still flying. But toward morning, the bombardment ceased, and a dread silence fell. Either Fort McHenry had surrendered and the British flag flew above it, or the bombardment had failed and the American flag still flew.
(I have to interrupt Isacc Asimov's narration at this point to add an incredible historical note: The flag above Ft. McHenry was the symbol of American freedom and determination to retain that freedom, and everyone knew it. The British targeted the flag over and over and tried to destroy this rallying emblem so important to its defenders. As the flag would be hit and fall, another man would race forward in the line of fire to restore it to its position of prominence. No soldier had to be told. They just did it because they knew of its vital significance. During the night the bodies piled up at the foot of the flag. The bombardment was so intense, they could not be removed. But that didn't deter those intrepid volunteers, those amazing heroes, from racing to replace their fallen comrades and keep the flag flying over Ft. MeHenry.)
As dawn began to brighten the eastern sky, Key and Beanes stared out at the fort, trying to see which flag flew over it. He and the physician must have asked each other over and over, "Can you see the flag?"

To be continued tomorrow, July 2

Virtue and the United States of America

2011-06-30T12:23:00.004-06:00

It is nearing the 4th of July; my favorite holiday next to Christmas. I love this country and treasure the opportunity to celebrate its founding. I cry at patriotic parades when the flag passes by, or when military men and women, in their dress uniforms, salute that cloth of red, white, and blue. I feel the sacredness of Arlington Cemetery and the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. America is a land well founded.

I've worried of late for this country's future. It seems over the last few years we're had political leaders question the validity of what the Founding Fathers struggled to establish. The men who drafted the Constitution of the United States did so with intense study and debate. They knew that this forged document and the country it represented could only survive if the people of the United States were virtuous, and they looked to the home, the school, and the churches to fuel the fires of virtue from generation to generation. I fear that public and private virtue are in decline in the USA.

In his Farewell Address, George Washington declared:

"Of all the dispositions and habits which lead to political prosperity, religion and morality are indispensable supports. In vain would that man claim the tribute of patriotism, who should labor to subvert these great pillars of human happiness, these firmest props of the duties of men and citizens...Let it simply be asked, where is the security for property, for reputation, for life, if the sense of religious obligation desert the oaths which are the instruments of investigation in courts of justice? And let us with caution indulge the supposition that morality can be maintained without religion. Whatever may be conceded to the influence of refined education...reason and experience both forbid us to expect that national morality can prevail in exclusion of religious principle."

HAPPY 4th OF JULY!!

Quilts for all Occasions

2011-06-29T23:05:00.003-06:00

I always look forward to the 4th of July.

Every year we spend it at the Nephi Carnival. We have done this for many years. The biggest things I look forward to are of course, the crafts and home baked items at the Country Store, but even more than that is the quilt auction.

For an entire year the Relief Society women though out the Mona and Nephi Wards work at making quilts of all shapes and sizes to auction off at this carnival. The money raised from the auction then goes to support a local fund raiser so the women themselves do not get the return of the funds. The women simply do this for the love of quilting and for the love of serving others.

The quilts are a sight to behold. Surely they are some of the most beautiful quilts I have ever seen. I admire the women who do such incredible work. Some day (and I tell myself this every single year, I plan to be the proud owner of one of those gorgeous quilts!)

As I think of those lovely women who work endlessly year after year, I think of an incredible quilt at my parents home that was made with those loving hands.

The women in my mother’s ward got together and made a quilt for her when she was so ill with cancer. They each put their name on a heart that was then sewn onto the quilt in a border around the edges of the quilt. When that precious gift was presented to my mother, it was given with a book of letters from each of the woman who had written their names on those hearts. Quilts may bring comfort to us physically, but they have a way of uplifting us to great heights spiritually as well. I know that quilt did for my mother. She cherished that quilt and those letters to her dying day.

My mother and my grandmother both crocheted afghans that I absolutely cherish because of the loving hands that stitched them. I don’t have that gift. Now that both of these women have passed, those blankets are very sentimental to me. I have had them for years.

I had an aunt that taught me how to tie a quilt as a young teenager and I still have it. I love the time I spent with my aunt Jacklin learning to tie my very first quilt. Every time I see that quilt I think of her, She too has gone and miss her.

When my son and his wife were married, I was thrilled when they received so many quilts for wedding gifts. (I would have loved to take a few of them home with me!) I realize the love that went into making those quilts for them. Now, as we travel to see them, those are the quilts they share with us on our visits. Seeing them brings back such wonderful memories of their wedding day. I love those memories and I love the memories we are making as a family each time we get together.

Last summer we went to Martin’s Cove and learned of a touching story that had quite an impact on me.

There was a women traveling to Salt lake who had made it to Martin’s Cove and lost her husband during the freezing cold night. She couldn’t bear the thought of the ravaging wolves digging up her husband from the shallow grave so she begged the men to wrap him in her quilt and tie him high in the trees where the wolves couldn’t get to him. As they left the following morning, she turned back just before they round the bend and looked back. The last thing she saw was her husband up in the tree in her best quilt. (I believe some of the men were to go back later and bury him when the ground would be thawed enough for them to dig into.) I admire the faith and the strength of our early pioneers I love them for their examples of courage. I can’t think of this story without tears in my eyes and a stab at my heart.

Now, as my father-in-law is retired, he and my mother-in-law have started doing such a wonderful thing. This year as each grandchild has a birthday, he/she receives a homemade quilt made especially for them by their grandparents. My son Bryan says it’s the most comfortable (and the coolest) quilt he has ever had. I do believe he’s right! So much time and effort has gone into that gift. It was truly a gift from the heart and one that was very much appreciated. I know how meaningful it was to Bryan’s parents for him to receive such a gift. We know the effort that went into it. And we love them for taking the time.

As my son has had brain surgeries at Primary Children’s Medical Center, he has been given blankets, and we have had quilts brought for our use as we have had numerous stays at the hospital with our son. We have been grateful for not only the warmth they brought but the comfort they provided when we needed something to hold onto when we felt fear and heartache.

Now as I try to tie all these different thought together…

Last Saturday our Ward did a day of service. It was in dedication to the many ward members we have had experience with different types of cancer. We asked them what we could do to help be of service. From their suggestions, we did hygiene kits, yard work, scarves, treats for family members in waiting rooms, rice warming bags, activity kits for PCMC, and we made blankets.

I was working with the women who made blankets to send to the Huntsman Cancer Institute and to PCMC. I couldn’t help but think how much my own family, especially myself has benefited from those. I hope the blankets we made will be of comfort to those hearts and hands that they will reach.

To end this post I found a great poem about quilts written by: Terrie Johnson

“The Tattered Quilt”

A tattered quilt hangs by my bed
Upon an antique stand
My mind drifts back to years before
As the quilt falls on my hand.
Stitched with care and bound with love
A work of art indeed
This dear old quilt has been my friend
No matter what the need.

I still recall with memory sweet
How this quilt came to me
It was upon a Christmas morn
It lay wrapped beneath the tree.
As I opened up this precious gift
My eyes filled with tears
I realized this gift contained
The work of many years.

One day as we sat snug within
My quilt and watched it rain
I asked my gramma, “Why for me?”
And thus she did explain,
“I wanted you to have this quilt
For when you’re feeling down
I wanted you to have this quilt
When you move from town to town.”

“So if you’re feeling lonely
Or if you’re feeling sad
Just wrap yourself inside this quilt
And things won’t seem so bad.
No matter where you go in life,
No matter what you feel,
This quilt will be here for you
It’s something that is real.”

Oft times I’ve sat with my dear quilt
And thought of words she said
I realize that when she spoke
She spoke of years ahead.
For now that older I have grown
I have just come to see
My gramma is my quilt indeed
She’s always there for me.

As for myself, I wish I could thank the many people who made the quilts throughout my life that lifted my heart and comforted me with not only warmth but somehow brought me solace when I needed it the most.

More things I love about the Kindle

2011-06-28T05:49:00.002-06:00

It seems my husband read my last post (http://vformation.blogspot.com/2011/06/why-i-want-kindle.html) because he bought me a Kindle as an early birthday present. Love him!
So now that I actually have a Kindle, I have discovered a whole lot more things which are wonderful about it.

It remembers which page you are on, and when you open a book you were reading previously, it automatically opens at that page; no more scrabbling in your bag for a bus ticket to use as a bookmark. And it does this for all your books, so if you're reading two or three at once, each one will open at the page you last read.

I can email any PDF document to it very easily by just sending it to my Kindle's email address, and it then appears with my list of books. (Although I have found PDF documents to be most readable in 14 font, 1.5 line spacing and A5 size.)

I can download free samples of any book I am thinking of buying. Usually this means the first two chapters. I'm finding that by the time I get to the end of the free sample, and the screen offers me the chance to buy the full book in two clicks, I can tell whether I want to read the rest or not.

There are hundreds and hundreds of free books on offer, many of the classics - Jane Austen, WM Thackeray, Charles Dickens - among them. I'm currently reading The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes for the first time.

Prior to getting the Kindle, buying a typical LDS book meant ordering online from Deseret Book and paying $14.99 for the book plus DB's standard international shipping rate of $25. I can now download books by the august ladies listed to my right for about $10.

I downloaded the scriptures onto my Kindle for £1.41. Cheapest set of scriptures I ever bought. And I can mark my favourite passages, add notes, and have the Kindle look up difficult words (as I can with all the books on my Kindle).

I've never met anyone with a Kindle who doesn't love it, and while I'm still getting used to mine, I'm discovering more and more wonderful features.

Climb Every Mountain

2011-06-27T08:11:00.001-06:00

This past week I had the opportunity to help take our Laurels to a nearby canyon for a rappelling adventure. Originally, four of our girls were planning on participating. By the actual day of this activity, we were down to two who could still attend. Both girls are remarkable young ladies, but one has faced tremendous challenges. Her name is Sam, short for Samantha. She was in a horrible car accident about 8 months ago. Comatose for a time, she has fought an intense battle to regain abilities and skills most of us take for granted. She is still waging war on a daily basis against obstacles like double vision. I have no doubt that she will conquer these trials--she is a determined young woman and it is amazing to see the progress she has made.

Sam was an honor student in the past, and it was not surprising to me to see her name back on that same honor roll this past May at the end of the school year. She is also playing the piano for us in Y. W. again although she usually accomplishes this task by keeping one eye closed. She is a wonderful example of perseverance and courage and the light of Christ shines from her eyes when she shares her testimony of those things that matter most.

As we stood together, waiting for her turn to tackle the mountain on Saturday, she told me something I will always try to remember. She was sharing her secret for succeeding in life. It is simply this: "If I do well at something like cooking, I enjoy my efforts. If I'm not thrilled by what I've done, I can either accept it as is and be grateful for it, or try again and improve. The main thing is to be happy."

I suspect that is the key in life. We all face trials in this mortal realm. It's part of why we're here, part of our growing and learning process. Our attitude will determine how well we will do. Sam's positive mindset has helped her overcome tremendous challenges this past year. I was visiting with Sam and her mother at the hospital on a day when a physical therapist was trying to help Sam relearn to walk up steps. I was so touched by how hard Sam concentrated on lifting her foot, one step at a time. Ironically, I had brought her a framed picture that afternoon, something that has hung in a place of honor on the wall of my computer room for several years. It shows someone walking up a golden staircase, one step at a time. I had originally bought that picture to help remind me that all things are possible when we believe in ourselves. After the accident, I purchased a new frame for it, and presented it to Sam, knowing of the challenges she faced at the time.

I thought of that picture again on Saturday as I tearfully watched Sam climb up the face of a mountain, step by step. I was not at all surprised when she reached the top, grinning over her victory that day. I know it took a tremendous effort for her to accomplish that feat. At one point, one of her legs began to tremble uncontrollably, but she ignored it, and continued to push herself, determined to conquer this challenge. The joy in her step at she rappelled down that same mountain several minutes later was obvious to us all. She had successfully attained a goal, believing in herself every step of the way. And to me, that is the secret of living this life to the fullest.

PLOT KILLERS

2011-06-22T19:48:00.000-06:00

Words! Anna has blogged lately about words she dislikes (swearing) and words that just feel good to say. Most writers I know have a bit of love/hate relationship with words and I'm no exception. One word I like to use is also one that I consider a plot killer. Try saying deus ex machina.

Deus ex machina has a literal meaning something like mechanical god. It comes from ancient Greek plays where the characters would get themselves in all kinds of trouble, then a "god" would be mechanically lowered via ropes to rescue the protagonist from the villain and/or evil.

Unfortunately this device still shows up on occasion in modern novels. When I was a member of the Romance Writers of America, I often heard this type of resolution to a romance dilemma referred to as the "man or a miracle" resolution and it poked fun at the heroine that had to be rescued from a threatening situation by the male hero or some type of miraculous intervention. In other novels we see deus ex machina occur when some insignificant character, a brand new character, a coincidence, or a heavenly manifestation provides a rescue for the protagonist. That may happen in real life, but there are a lot of things that happen in real life that don't work well in fiction.

When outside intervention or a miracle resolves the conflict, the reader is left feeling cheated. Yes, miracles occur in real life and can be used to help bring about the resolution (think prayer, inspiration, the discovery of a possible solution), but should not upstage the protagonist to the point he or she has no part in saving him or herself. That's what protagonists, heroes, and heroines are all about; growing, stretching, persisting, out smarting, exercising faith, etc. That's one of the vicarious thrills of reading, being able to identify with someone like ourselves who succeeds against tough odds.

Today's reader expects the protagonist to dig deep and find his/her own strength or solution. This strength may include faith, the will to live, determination to save someone else, intellectual prowess, or countless other forms of physical or emotional strengths. No more cavalry to the rescue. No more helpless heroines. Yes, the protagonists can receive help through insight, by aiding each other, from an outside source that is already a pertinent part of the story, through the use of a devise already introduced, but never because the author has written him/herself into a corner and can't think of anything better than a miracle to effect a rescue.

I was part of a group once where someone asked author Dan Yates what he thought was the most important element in writing a novel. His answer? "Words!" I've always kind of liked that answer. Words are the bricks and mortar of a novel, but the words that define what we do with those words make the difference between whether the end result is a story or a shopping list.

Thoughts on Becoming Chronologically Challenged

2011-06-17T08:49:00.002-06:00

I was blessed with an incredible amount of natural energy. I've been accused of emulating Wonder Woman because I could accomplish so much due to numerous to-do lists and that natural energy. Now that I've passed that magical 70 mark, someone has waved a magic wand and changed everything! There are days I'm absolutely certain someone has poked a hole in my big toe and in some mysterious way, drained all of that energy.

The mind is a terrible thing to lose, and something is happening to mine. Did someone cast a spell on me to make me forget what I knew just yesterday? Why? I'm harmless. I have no power to wield anywhere that would require a memory loss to prevent national secrets from becoming known.

And what happened to my hands? Once my fingers were strong - sometimes (not often) even graceful. Now they are being attacked by an insidious monster called arthritis and are becoming grotesquely misshapen. They are not totally there yet, but have begun that transformation into something unrecognizable on the ends of my arms.

I bring this up because these last two weeks, I've recognized my mortality in an unpleasant way. We have a choir director who believes in miracles. She chooses pieces for our little ward choir to sing that the Tabernacle Choir made sound absolutely glorious. All 300 plus voices! And she expects similar results from the dozen and a half - sometimes a few more - adventurous souls who take up her challenges.

This time it's an incredible piece with a four-hand accompaniment. You have to understand, I'm a Relief Society pianist who had to learn to play the organ many years ago because there wasn't anyone else to do it in our tiny ward. I play the hymns. I practice a lot to be able to play the pedals. You know the more you practice, the better you get, right? Yes --- until last year. Then my eye-hand-foot coordination began diminishing and it took a lot more practice to coordinate those three items.

Back to the choir and the four-hand accompaniment. There are three of us in our ward who play - the other two are much better than I am, but one just had a baby and moved into a new home. That left me as the other two hands. Now the piece is really not THAT difficult. But the tempo is! I choose the easiest part - the lower hands - so I have chords: LOTS OF CHORDS! CHORDS THAT MUST BE PLAYED VERY FAST!

So I practice, and I play it again, and again, and again. I've gone to the church to play it on the piano we will be using (for those of you who play, you KNOW how different pianos are!) The other two hands and mine got together to practice (after I had already spend many hours on this piece plus one hour just before I went to her house.) Do you know what happened? My mind took a mini-vacation and my hands couldn't find all the right notes without it.

It was just like being in the Senior MTC again learning Armenian. At the end of the day's lessons, I'd have those words and phrases down cold - until the next morning when it was time to review what we'd learned the day before. What words? They must be in the recesses of my mind somewhere, but nowhere retrievable at that moment when I needed them.

These are the tricks that some diabolical entity plays on you as the years accumulate. I'm not Wonder Woman anymore. I'm totally human. And totally dependent on Heavenly Help to cover all my deficiencies. Definitely makes a person humble.And that's a good thing in the long run.

Puppy Power

2011-06-16T07:59:00.004-06:00

We have a new member of the family. A precious pup called Coco Beans. It is our daughter's dog and she's darling. She reminds me of a little Ewok from Star Wars. She is full of puppy personality and spunk. She may be small, but she's mighty. She isn't afraid of the vacuum, or bigger dogs, or people. In fact, when it comes to people, she acts like a magnet.

My husband and I tagged along the other day as our daughter went to Wal Mart to pick up some mini dog biscuits and a few new toys. (Can a new baby ever have too many toys?) Coco Beans tagged along too. I was holding her most of the time and it was fascinating to me how many people came right over to oooh and awwhh over her, ask her name, and pet her. I expected this with moms and children, but it happened with teenage boys, older couples, and men who looked like they worked construction. The cutest conquest was a young couple who's outward appearance would most likely scare a police officer: spiked blue hair, black lipstick, and piercings in facial places that looked painful. This cute couple made the same goo goo sounds when they approached as the construction guy, and Coco Beans gave them the same unconditional puppy love as she had the little girl in the Hello Kitty dress. It was a touching interchange.

Unconditional love. The sweetness of that little fur ball went right past the outward appearance and straight to the heart. It showed me that no matter what walls and facades we put up, we all have soft little hearts that want to love and be loved.

Perhaps we should all carry around puppies.

Father's Day With A New Tradition

2011-06-15T22:24:00.007-06:00

How grateful I am that I have my father here to celebrate Father's Day with!

This year our whole family did something a little different with Father's Day and boy did we have a blast!

Unfortunately we don't get together nearly as often as we should or would like to.

I have heard the family express their disappointment about this but it seems that the opportunity is never taken to do anything about it. My dad has especially expressed how much it means to him when his family gathers around him, and how sad he is that we just don't do it often enough. I decided maybe we could change that. Everyone agreed.

One day about a month and a half ago I was visiting with my dad when he had told me how overwhelmed he had felt with his yard work this year. He has had some back problems that was affecting his leg and hip and couldn't see how he could possibly get the yard work done this year. (Dad has quite a large yard and I wouldn't be able to keep up with it,even feeling my best, let alone having health issues...)

This was a perfect opportunity for the family to come together. Everyone jumped at the chance.

For Father's Day we all went to Dad's to do his entire yard. We had family memebers come from Idaho, and even some came in motor homes the previous night to get an early start. Others came at various times to offer any time they possibly had to give. But everyone had to travel over an hours drive to get there so this was not going to be a quick trip to grandpa's house.

We planted flowers, which we all pitched in and paid for, we planted vegetables, we replaced railroad ties in borders, pulled weeds, mowed and trimmed the lawn, and filled in and planted a pond area. At the end of the work we had a big family BBQ. The food was incredible-- the company even better! :)

I think the thing that stood out in my mind the most was having the family pulling together in one purpose. Kids, grand kids and great grand kids, one and all, participated. We laughed, we worked, and we thoroughly enjoyed being together. The weather even gave us a hand. It had rained all week long and had finally let up for that one day. The sun was shining so brightly that our white winter skin even got a little color! It was an amazing experience for all who participated. In fact, it was so nice, I'm ready to do it again.

The real reward for me though, was seeing the gratitude in my father's eyes. He walked around, helping every which way he possibly could, but his heart was full of gratitude. He was speechless each time he tried to express how much it all meant to him.

Within a few days, each family received the sweetest heartfelt thank you written by my dad that I will always cherish. You would have thought we gave him the world.

I am so very grateful to my father whom I know would do-- and has done everything for me. He has always been such a tremendous example and influence in my life. I sure love you, dad!

I'm also grateful for my husband who is such a wonderful father to my boys. I have always said he's my own Prince Charming and I think I am the luckiest girl in the world.

I now thrill at the sight of seeing my oldest boy being a father himself to my adorable little grandson. My other son isn't too far behind. As a teenager he is growing up too fast for my comfort zone.

I have much to be thankful for as I have each of these generations of men/Father's in my life. All are heroes in their own way to me. I honor each of them.

I certainly hope that with as much fun as we had celebrating Father's Day as a family that it can become a new tradition for many years to come!

Why I want a Kindle

2011-06-14T05:55:00.003-06:00

by Anna Jones Buttimore

Cheri blogged yesterday about an advantage of the Kindle - being able to change the text size. I'm currently weighing up whether or not to buy one, and that's something for my "For" list.

Thus far, the list looks something like this:

For
No trying to fit books onto already overloaded shelves.
Fits easily into my handbag for instant reading anywhere.
Lots of free classic books for immediate download - including the scriptures!
Lighter than a book, yet it can hold up to 3,900 books. (Especially important since we're going on holiday to Majorca next month and my baggage allowance is only 15kg, so I can't take any books.)

Against
Second-hand books in charity shops are cheaper than Kindle editions, as are many bargain paperbacks.
My husband thinks the technology will quickly become out of date and I will be replacing my Kindle every year or so. (I disgree...)
I'm limited to buying books from Amazon. (But I buy all my books from Amazon anyway...)
If I read a good book on the Kindle, I can't then lend it to a friend. (And can't then forget which friend I lent it to, and thus lose it and have to go out and buy it again.)
If I lose it, I lose my entire book collection. (Except that they are backed up on Amazon so I can download them for free when I buy a new one.)

As you can see, I'm really tending towards "For". Only downside is that we just don't have the money to justify it right now. But they were there, on the shelf in Tesco, when I did my weekly shopping yesterday. It took every ounce of willpower not to put one in my trolley. I drooled for a few moments and then pressed on round the shop. The blow was when I got to the checkout and discovered that I had spent £111 on my family's food for the week. About average, for us, but in a cruel ironic twist, exactly the price of the Kindle I had so nearly bought.

We could all do with losing some weight, I wonder if they'd mind if I bought a Kindle rather than food next week?

Books vs. E-Books

2011-06-13T10:47:00.000-06:00

Not long ago I wrote a post that discussed books vs. e-books. At that time I was of the opinion that books were the only way to go. I still prefer reading in that format, but I've since seen a side of the e-book craze that is quite positive.

My mother has a form of macular degeneration and her sight has been deteriorating the past couple of years. She has always enjoyed reading good books. She collects books, and it is getting harder for her to savor her favorite tomes. So for Mother's Day this year, my siblings and I gave her a Kindle. At first, she was a bit stand-offish about the whole idea, even after one of my sisters explained that we could enlarge the text of each book added to the Kindle to make it easier for her to read.

One afternoon, I drove her out to my home and we began the process of setting things up for her on the Kindle. Despite her protests about what a waste of time and money it was, she finally sat, enthralled when I began adding books to her Kindle. We were able to find numerous classic novels offered for free on Amazon, several that are some of her favorite books. We added those, as well as others we purchased for a minimal cost and it was reminiscent of watching a kid in a candy store. My mother now has 80 books on her Kindle and she couldn't be happier. We changed the setting to a font size that enables her to read without any problem, and she absolutely loves this new fangled device her children purchased on her behalf.

So I am writing a bit of a retraction. I am seeing that e-books do indeed serve a purpose. I'm even considering the advantages of getting either a Kindle or a Nook for my own personal use someday. I will always love and savor my collection of books, but I'm suspecting that I just might enjoy having e-books on hand as well. I have decided there is room for both in this crazy world.