Blood, Sweat and Tears, part 2, or How To Turn Gray In One Week

As you can see, I survived. Was there any doubt? Nah, not really, but life does get interesting upon occasion. Murphy wasn't too ornery this trip, just a minor pain. I ended up with only eight teenagers. I’m not sure one missing kid makes a whole lot of difference, but it did free up some seat space to separate my oil and water girls. They didn't always mix, which meant lots of skirmishes. Some minor, some major, but all were a lot of fun. Not!

My pastor found someone to look at the van before we left. He reset the computer. That lasted until Joplin, MO on Interstate 44. The cruise didn't die quietly either. It surged. Twice. Not fun while surrounded by semi’s going a minimum of 70 mph.

The deluge didn't hit until after we left Bella Vista, AR. No cruise, no speedometer, pouring rain, rush hour traffic, antsy teens. Yup, lot’s of fun. Driving up the muddy, winding, tightly curved mountain road was even better. At least the tires maintained their traction this time. Feeling the van’s rear end sliding sideways into thin air with a bunch of kids in tow ain't for sissies. Been there, done that, don’t want to do it again.

Driving through the creek to take said van into the shop for a look-see was fun too. It’s the shortcut. Low, to a true mountaineer, turns out to be a foot or more of running water. Feeling the tires spin on loose rock submerged under that rushing current as the van went nowhere fast added a few more gray hairs to my frazzled head. Ditto for trying to get on the highway at the end of that shortcut. It’s about a 60-70 degree angle with no place to stop and look for cars. You just gun it and go. And pray, with eyes tightly closed.

Camp was true to form. We had young love, three different flu bugs floating around, assorted squabbles, rain and ticks galore. Did I forget to mention I hate ticks? Fortunately, they don’t seem to be too fond of me. My other driver said she picked twenty-plus from her person over the week. Only one was attached. The rest were just crawling around looking for a good place to land. Ick!

Instead of hot it was so chilly we were wearing jackets and jeans. If we had them, that is. Some of the kids were turning blue. Never thought it would be so cold mid-June. They still managed to go swimming three times. Maybe I’m just a wimp. Of course the humidity was so high your bedding and clothes were always damp. Quite the weird experience rolling over at night wondering why your bed’s moist. And, no, I didn't wet the bed.

Only two sprained ankles this year. One was mine. I’m still limping around. For some reason my body thinks it’s older than I am. Hmm, maybe I think it’s younger than it is. Don’t like it much either way.

Oh well, enough about ol’ Murphy. The real news is one of my girls forgave God for letting her brother die. She’s been angry at Him for years. Another learned that there are consequences for rude behavior and that some adults expect you to do what you’re told. Imagine that! She made tremendous strides in the growing up department which included a few laps around the soccer field and one set of push ups.

Two brothers forgave their dad. He’s in jail for pedophilia. They lost their home, financial support, friends and their secure family structure in one fell swoop. Both have struggled with the shame they feel over what he did. The older son had to forgive his mother also. You can imagine how it affected her. Unfortunately, she didn't deal with it well and that left the boys rudderless.

The other kids all have a story to tell of God’s goodness in spite of old Murphy. That’s why I go. No matter what. It may be a pain getting there. It may be a pain when I get back. These kids are our future and they are worth it. 

As for Murphy, I find it best to just ignore the old buzzard. He may whine, but he never wins.

Blood, Sweat and Tears

Why doesn't life cooperate? We make our plans then have to change them. Set our dates and erase to set again. Plot our course and watch the map disappear. Make our lists only to re-run them the next day.

Time flies, is stolen or heads to higher ground. I don’t know. This world is just weird sometimes. 

When you read this I will be at camp. We are heading out with nine teenagers in tow. Getting there with all nine is iffy. J

I love being there, but the process can be a pain. I drive the church’s fifteen-passenger van. It’s not pretty, but it does run. As of last Thursday night (I leave on Monday) that’s about all it does. The cruise, speedometer and gas gauge all went kaput at once. Friday night the AC fan was rattling its death wish and the windshield cracked down the middle of the driver’s side. My pastor is sweating bullets because his car guy doesn't work weekends.

I wanted to say, “Oh, yea of little faith.” For some peculiar reason, I also want to live. 

Now imagine. Eleven people and a week’s worth of luggage crammed into one van for seven hours. No way to obey the speed limit. No clue as to how much gas it’s guzzled. No cruise control. AACCKK! No cruise! And if life continues on this lovely path, the AC will die about twenty minutes outside of town with ninety-degree temps. Can we say, Murphy’s Law?

Good thing I don’t believe in old Murphy. If I did, I would have opted for an early grave. Or put him in one. Maybe I’m getting nutty in my old age, umm, middle age, but I see this as an adventure.  Will we make it? Will we make it alive? Will we make it with all body parts intact?

Which kid will push my last button and have to thumb it home? How many pounds can you sweat off in seven hours of sweltering heat? How many potty stops will all that sweating eliminate? How wet will we get with the windows down if it rains? Will rain wash the sweaty stench away so the van doesn't smell like a boy’s locker room for eternity????

Will crying really get me out of a ticket? (At that point crying should be easy. Not wailing like a banshee and begging the cop to haul me off will be the hard part.) Will the nice policeman have compassion and let us go without one? Doubtful, I am no longer young and gorgeous. Maybe he’ll be an old fat lech who can’t see so great? Will I end up in the hoosegow for throttling someone before the day is out? If it comes to that, a ticket is the least of my worries.

Think of this blog as a soap opera. All the burning questions get answered in the next episode. Or next. Maybe. 

 I wonder if they’ll give me a computer in that county jail out there in the boonies?

Island Hopping

This journey started with expectant excitement. I was promised good things to see and do, not only on the way, but at our destination. Now I sit shipwrecked. Alone, on a tiny piece of land in the middle of nowhere. I have to ask, is this what I signed up for?

I can’t drink the water. It’s salty. The lone palm tree has no fruit to drop. The sun shines but I cannot feel its warmth. Skin is burned and I chill. Air is hiding, no breeze to dry my tear drenched face. No companionship, no soft bed, no music to sooth my battered soul. Sand, sea, sun and one tree my only view.

Alone, with unmet needs, broken hopes and crushing disappointment. Is this all there is to life?

I survey my surroundings. The whirring of panic fills me. Will they come find me? Is anyone even looking? How long can I live like this, smothered with a lifetime of broken promises? I had so many hopes, so many dreams. Will they ever come to pass? Am I looking too close at the now instead of fixing upon the future? How long must one wait for the future to arrive? At what point do you just admit defeat and give up?

I am not a coward, nor a quitter, yet the wait is long. Day after endless day I wait and watch, hope and dream. Nothing changes. Not the things I am most looking for anyway. Not those deep buried needs met, those dreams so big they can terrify. No knight in shining armor to sweep me off my feet and make everything okay. This hard place, this is not the fun filled cruise I expected.

I can strike out on my own and try swimming to safety, but which way do I go? How far to the next oasis? How far can I push this aging flesh? Will I ever find what I need, what I seek? Are there any guarantees in this life? Am I ready to risk death and destruction on a maybe I can make it? What are my choices here?

The sun rises high and I relax in a brief moment of shade. Clouds dot the horizon. I’m thirsty. Rain is coming. The wind begins to blow, blessed relief. A wave splashes high and throws a fish onto my tiny dot of sand. I must eat it raw, but it’s food. Interesting how this happens, when I’m at my most desperate, when I think I cannot continue on one more day, grace comes.

I stop and look around. What, in the midst of my darkest hour, can I be grateful for? What good can I find amid despair?

I’m still breathing, for one. Food and water do come. Shade, every day. Stars at night to gaze upon. Sun sparkling upon dancing waves. Ever changing colors of the sea. Warmth and light. Peace filled surroundings. Eyes to see. Hope. If I’m still alive, there is a purpose, there is a reason.

Will I ever see my heart’s desires? Will I ever experience deep held dreams? I don’t know. Only my life’s end will tell the whole story, but today, today I must choose. Either hold on to the dream or let go, believe or give up. Let faith fill my soul one more time, or give in to despondency and fear.

I take a deep breath, feel the freshness of sea misted air. I choose hope one more time. I choose to trust, to believe. When will my salvation come? I don’t know, but until then, I hope.

2014. How's it Going So Far?

Write it on your heart that every day is the best day in the year. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

That's the quote I discovered and put on my Facebook banner.  I thought it said a lot about what we've blogged about this month.  At the beginning of a new year, we make resolutions, goals, promises to ourselves, our families, our friends.  Those things are sometimes easy to make, but oh so hard to keep.  At least for me it is.  And it takes work.  Hard work.

It's been quite a month for many of us. 

Pat, once again, has graciously accepted to wear the crown of WARA president for another year.  Bless you, Pat. ;)  As always, she keeps us going and reminds us--or at least me--that time goes on, whether we're paying attention or not.  Yeah, a lot of "not" days for me.  It seems the days go by faster and faster, leaving me to wonder why it was January 1st yesterday, and now it's almost the end of the month.

Theresa has decided to take on a new "identity" as Theresa Jaye, but she'll always be the same sweet, caring and giving person she's always been.  No matter who "she" is, she'll  always tickle our funny bones with her blog posts and her positive outlook on just about everything.

Joan continues on her journey of conquering health issues, while living in limbo during an extended move from one house to a new one.  Not an easy feat!  No doubt she'll conquer the boxes and everything else, before the year is half gone.

Nina taught us how not to make a pocket calendar and that she's filled with determination to win her battle with technology.  Aren't we all?  Thanks to Nina for sharing so many organization tricks!  I can use all the help I can get.

Penny reminded us all of how important she is to all of us and that we're a lot like a family---we're here for each other.  That may be one of the best things anyone can ever learn.  Thank you, Penny. :)

Melissa wants to be the odd duck. ;)  She's looking forward to her "new year" in late August, when all of her offspring will be attending full days of school.  No more half-days for her bunch!  Or her!!!  I remember those days well and seem to be repeating them again with my g-kids.  I guess I didn't learn the lesson the first time around!

Becky found good things about breaking her arm.  Now that's an accomplishment I need to learn.  No, no, not the broken arm, but finding good things in what we perceive to be not so good at all.  Becky, really? Titanium?  Wow!  Is that like Superman or something?  Thanks for showing us the best way to handle the rough spots.

Me?  I mentioned setting goals and a lot of other useless things.  I'm still on the road with them, but I'll admit that some days I just want to sit down and let the day go by.  Can't do that, though, so I'm up and chasing my dreams.  C'est la vie.

Thank you to all of our bloggers for making this little spot one of my favorite places to stop and not only catch up, but learn more about each of you.  And thank you to our visitors for stopping by!

Today is the best day of the year!

On Your Mark, Get Set, Goal

It's a good thing I looked at the calendar, because I would have forgotten I needed to be here today.  I know it's January.  I know we've moved into 2014, but other than that, I'm a bit lost.

It would be nice to escape setting goals right now.  I thought I knew where I wanted to take this year.  But recently I've realized my old goals, the ones I've been making and usually meeting, aren't going to work for me the way I'd thought they might  It's time to step back, rethink, and re-goal.  Yes, a sort of New Beginning.

My writing goal in 2013 was to write 200,000 words.  I met that goal.  In fact, my WARA friends may not know, but I wrote 232,653 words, not counting blog posts.  The total for those was 49,666.  I'll let you do the math.  How did I do it?  I wrote three books.  Three and a half, to be more precise.  Half of one of those three was rewritten last month is scheduled to be released in August of this year  The other two?  That's the big question.

I enjoy writing.  I love writing.  Sometimes it's crazy, but in the end, it's satisfying.  There's very little of the process that I don't like.  But then I've written something or other most of my life.  I also enjoy reading, something I haven't had much time to do this year.

Because the majority of my life is writing, I keep an eye on what's happening in the publishing world.  If you haven't noticed--and you'd have to be a complete non-reader to do that--that world is changing.  E-books are everywhere.  Many traditionally published authors, including our own Deb Stover, have decided to explore this new experience for both writers and readers.  Personally, I haven't bought a print book for quite some time, but I've definitely amassed a lot of books for my Kindle--written by both traditionally published authors and indie/self-published authors.  If I only had time to read them!

So here are my goals.  I expect some certain people to keep me on them.  You know who you are.

• Goal #1:  Read more
• Goal #2:  Give myself permission to enjoy life more

The first goal is covered by having more books than I could read in a year.  The second will be somewhat taken care of by the first goal.  Reading to me is enjoyment. :)  

• Goal #3:  Have a more positive attitude about myself and my life

Goal # 2 should help with #3.  And I've taken other steps to achieve it.  Several months ago, I began practicing meditation.  I hadn't been sleeping well.  I'd toss and turn, unable to go to sleep.  Once I finally did fall into dreamland, I (thankfully) slept well.  I needed to turn off the worry and problems of the day, and I found that meditation before bedtime solved that.  Although doing it in the morning is probably better and helps the day move along more smoothly, bedtime was the only time I could carve out to do it.  Hey, I tried yoga a couple of years ago, but my body rebelled.  And when the body rebels, the mind does, too.  Sleep comes quickly now, no matter what problems and obstacles the day has presented.

There are more things to work out, more goals to set, but those three must come first.  Like Theresa Jaye, I need to reinvent myself.  I'm grabbing her shirttails and going along for the ride.  After raising four daughters and basically helping raise five grandchildren, it's time for me.  Selfish?  I don't think so.  Now to figure out who me is. :)  Oops!  Who I am. ;)

It all takes time.  We have to learn to know ourselves, we have to search our hearts for what we truly want.  After that, we have to go for it!  Once we do, those goals are more easily made.  I may not get as far as I hope, but I'll at least be on the road.  If nothing else, I'm stubborn.  Once I make up my mind to do something, I do it.

Making goals?  Always.  It's something I had to learn to do, but once learned, it's become a habit.  Reaching them--or trying to--also became habit.  I'm eager to see what 2014 will bring.  It's good to see that so many here are, too.

Happy 2014!  May your wishes and dreams come true!  I'm going to work to see that mine do.

WARA's Mini-Retreat (Rox Delaney)

Due to the craziness of life, I missed writing my blog post earlier this month.  It happens to all of us.  We all have lives that are woven with have-to's and need-to's, and some things get missed in the process of day-to-day living.

If you look to the left, you'll see a photo of a group of women.  They're smiling.  Why?  The photo was taken at WARA's Fall Mini-Retreat, held last Saturday.

I can't remember a time when I didn't enjoy one of WARA's weekend retreats or mini-retreats.  If I had to count how many I've attended, I wouldn't get it right.  I've been a member of WARA for most of the past 17 years.  Although there have been a few times we've had to skip having a retreat, there have been many.  For me, they're a must-not-miss.

Retreats, whether over a weekend or only just a day, are a kick-in-the-backside.  A good kick-in-the-backside!  Not only is it a chance to hear where others are with their writing, but a time to Talk Writing.  Those who aren't writers have difficulty understanding people who hear voices in their heads.  Those who do write take it for granted and understand that if you aren't hearing those voices or seeing a scene played out in your head, something needs to be done.

It doesn't take much to hit a roadblock in a story.  Sometimes a character decides to make decisions or do something the writer never planned.  Or sometimes we discover we've written ourselves into a corner and don't know how to get out of it.  Talking with others who understand story structure or conflict or goals or motivation are a godsend.  Even many non-writers, but voracious readers can only help so much.  Writers are a writer's best friend.

Not only are those of us in WARA writer friends, we're also friends who write.  Add to it that we have families and the usual activities and difficulties that women (and men) face in the "normal" world, and strong friendships are often made.  I have writer friends, within WARA and without, and friends who've never written and don't have a clue what it takes to create fictional people and stories.  I value all of them.

So what did we do at the retreat?  We brainstormed, we offered suggestions, shared bits of information, had lunch and ATE CAKE that Reece baked and decorated. :)  We came away with possible answers to questions and the good feeling of having spent a day with friends.  Retreats help fill the well.  Who could ask for more?

As for WARA, itself, we've outgrown some things and are adding new.  We're looking forward to making our group better and stronger as we continue to make new friends and and meet with long-time friends.  Our retreats help with that and our writing.

Start BIC-HOKing, ladies!  Pat and I each have a whip. ;)

We Are Women, See Us Write

Earlier this month, in answer to the topic, I wrote that I am a writer.  But that's only a part of me, as it is for every person on this blog and those who read it and those who comment on it.

While those of us who blog here are writers, that isn't all we are.  We are mothers, daughters, sisters, aunts, grandmothers, daughters-in-law and wives.  We're single, divorced, widowed and married.  We work both outside the home and inside the home.  But the one thing we share is writing, and that's what's brought us together.

Take a picture of us all together, and you'll see the many differences.  Young, middle-aged, and older.  Blonde hair, brown hair, red hair and gray.  Tall, short, round and slim.  Yes, we're different, but we share one thing.  We are writers.

We're hard on ourselves.  Even after being published for 12 years, I still have difficulty telling strangers I'm a writer.  Forget about telling them I'm a published author.  Sure, in a group it's easy, even on the blog.  But on my own?  Live and in person?  Uh, no. ☺  Why?  Most people don't believe it.  Some people smirk in a "sure, you are" kind of way.  Others, like our own Penny Rader, encourage us to join WARA. (Thank you, Penny!)  And even others are excited and ask questions.  All of that has an affect on us, on our perceptions of ourselves.

We are who we are, each little part of us.

We look in a mirror and see what we believe is what others see, and even that is skewed by our own perceptions of ourselves.  Others see us in different ways.  There was a recent video posted to Facebook that was made in conjunction with Dove® soap/beauty products.  MSN carried it on their website.  Below is the introduction and a link to the video.  It's amazing!

Thanks, Dove, for this inspiring social experiment. In the video, various women show up separately to be drawn by a forensic artist who never sees them — the artist sketches them based on each woman's description of herself, then does another sketch based on how strangers describe each woman. Watching these ladies confront their less-attractive views of themselves before glimpsing the very different image of what a stranger sees is enough to bring on the tears. If you've never wished you had a different nose, brighter eyes or a better chin, you belong to an elite group of women who think they're beautiful — a measly 4 percent globally, according to Dove. So watch closely and stop giving yourself such a hard time.

 http://now.msn.com/dove-real-beauty-video-shows-women-they-are-beautiful

We see what we want to see: the blemishes, the dark circles, the wrinkles, the extra pounds.  We see our weaknesses, not only physical but internal, our fears.  What we don't see, and what others seem to glimpse, is our strength, humor, passion and love.  As writers, those are the things we convey in our words and stories.  We give our characters what we see in ourselves and our experiences in life and also the weaknesses we deal with or have dealt with in the past.  And then we strive to give our readers the happily-ever-afters that we all hope will be ours.

We are writers, and we've all come to it in different ways at different times for different reasons.

We are women.  We are strong, smart, funny and wise.

My Favorite Things (cue Julie Andrews)

My grandkids look at me as if I've lost my mind when I tell them to take care of their books, because books are their friends.  For me, growing up as an only child, books were my friends, especially when all the other kids were busy with something else.  Books opened up the world around me, whether fiction or non-fiction or even encyclopedias.  Is it a wonder I started wearing glasses in second grade, after reading books by nightlight?

It was no accident in later years that when I had an answer or a problem that I would go out and search for self-help books.  From being a better person and uncluttering my house to pregnancy and child-raising and everything in between, I had a book on it.  So when I came to the point of deciding that I wanted to be a writer, it was books that I turned to.

I still have one bookshelf filled with writing how-to books that contains one book that actually put me on the road: You Can Write a Romance...and Get It Published! by Yvonne MacManus.  That's where I found information on Romance Writers of America and the date of an upcoming National Conference.  I joined immediately, rented a car, and purchased plane tickets...all in one day.  That day changed my life.

Although You Can Write a Romance... was the book that put me on the path to--well, not stardom, by any means, but learning and happiness and new friends and more--it was only the beginning.  I discovered Debra Dixon's Goal, Motivation & Conflict, boosting my writing skill to a new level.  I met and became friends with author Elizabeth Sinclair, who penned The Dreaded Synopsis (A Writing and Plotting Guide), and have nearly worn off the cover.  I've not only used it for writing a synopsis, but for plotting, too.  The one book that is always within arm's reach is The Synonym Finder by J.I. Rodale.  It's basically a thesaurus, but contains only synonyms, and is nearly three inches thick.  I'm on my third copy.  The first two copies were only well-worn, but worn out.

But the best thing about all of this is not the books, but the people I've met along the journey.  There are my WARA friends and the Ditzy Chix, a group of 10-12 authors that came together in the summer of 2001 to share the ups and downs of being writers.  My friend Kathie DeNosky has always been my guide and inspiration, keeping me from throwing in the towel, many times.  In fact, we became best of friends at that first RWA conference in 1996 in Dallas, Texas.  We still laugh about the day the lightbulb lit over our heads when we realized at the same time what the difference was between Harlequin Temptation and Silhouette (now Harlequin) Desire.  The other who makes up our triad of craziness is Kristi Gold, who makes me laugh and makes me think.  Listening to one of our three-way phone calls as we brainstorm would leave most people dazed and confused.  But even with the three of us talking at once, we understand and help each other, whether it's brainstorming or sharing the trials and joys of life.

So that's it.  Books, books, and friends, none of which I could live without and am eternally grateful to each and every one.  Without them, I'd be sitting in a corner, gibbering senseless stories to myself.  Now I get to share that gibbering with many, many more.  What could be better?

Sometimes You Just Have To...

What is it with February, anyway?  Sure, it's the month of hearts and flowers and candy, of dinner out with your sweetheart.  But if there's no sweetheart, or anyone remotely resembling one, there isn't a lot of significance in Valentine's Day.  And other than that, there isn't much else to the month, barring Presidents' Day, to speak highly of.  Cloudy skies with no rain don't float my boat.

Yes, I'm grumbling.  My To Do list, like Joan's, seems to be breeding as I sleep.  Get two things done on the list, then three more appear.  It started in January and is running well into February.  And there are still some from January waiting to be finished and marked off.

Writing?  Ha!  How about revising and polishing?  First a new book and now two books being considered for publishing.  While I don't mind the R&P, there are new characters trying to push their way into my conscious mind...as opposed to both my sub-and un-conscious mind, where they really should stay until I bid them to enter.  As Steve Martin used to say:  But NO-O-O-O-O!

On Wednesday, my youngest daughter and I took my granddaughter (her niece) to the zoo.  It was Payton's first zoo visit, and the weatherman had predicted a sunny and beautiful 60+ degree day.  Uh, no.  It was cloudy and overcast, with a bite in the breeze and 10 degrees lower than expected.  We didn't let that deter us.  We had a lovely (though tiring) time, and it was nice to take the day off...until arriving home to yet another To Do to add to the list.

Goals were set well before January 1, but the opportunity to work on them is affected by many people, some who really shouldn't even be involved.  But so be it.  I try to take each new "task" as a challenge, telling myself that I can do it, in spite of the metal shelf in the utility room falling over yesterday morning, the granddaughter dumping water, then Pepsi on the floor, just for the sheer joy of it this morning, plumbing problems, and the always-present family drama.  Four daughters=drama to the hilt.

But it's February.  That first rush of the new year has worn off, as we begin to settle into the rest of the year.  With 10 1/2 months to go, there's plenty of time to make it a good one.  Plenty of time to reach and maybe even surpass those goals.  Yes, it'll take some work, and hopefully a smaller list of things clamoring for attention, but anything is possible, right?

So whatever doldrums might settle over us, like dark clouds on a chilly, February day, sometimes you just have to SMILE, take a deep breath, and say, "Yes, I can do this, and it WILL get better!"

How long is it until April arrives?

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY TO EVERYONE!

Me? Myself? I? (Penny Rader)

bit.ly/Tdg3ud

Earlier this month Pat challenged us with tough questions to ask ourselves.  I'm struggling to come with answers.  Here's what I've got so far.  Maybe you can help me come up with some answers.  Funny how easy it for the negative thoughts to take over.

What is your value?

The voices of the bullies in my past immediately chime in, "Value?  You have no value!  You're fat.  You're ugly.  No one wants to be your friend."   Could also be the Catholic in me.    You know, thou shalt not, the Seven Deadlies, and all that jazz.

So...I try to shove those voices aside and figure out what my value is.

Still thinking.   Could use a Penny version of It’s a Wonderful Life about now to see if anyone’s better off for my having been here. (Surely I'm not the only one who as wondered this.)


Okay.  Here are a few:

• My kids.  They brighten this world, and their kids in turn.
• I have kept a roof over my family's head for a number of years now.
• I like sharing information with others.   
• I can sometimes make people laugh and, hopefully, cheer them up for a bit.  

What is your strength? 

Aye-yi-yi.   This is as nearly as hard as the value question.

• Patience?  The ability to wait without fidgeting…much.
• I used to think I could get along with nearly everyone but I’ve been proven wrong.  Still, I try.
• I also try to have a positive attitude.
• I can talk your ear off…which can be good if you’re in need of a distraction.

What do you enjoy?

This one’s easy:

• Naps
• Reading 
• Movies
• TV
• Crocheting
• Learning
• Laughing
• Lazy days off
• Cuddling with babies

What is your passion? 

• I love losing myself in stories…movies, books, etc. 
• I also want to make a difference.   I've been crocheting up a storm the last several years.  The feel of the yarn in my hands soothes me; the completed scarves and hats fill me with a sense of accomplishment…I hope they find their way to someone in need of their warmth and comfort. 

What is your weakness?

Another easy question.   Shouldn't that be plural?

In no particular order:

• Procrastination – I am a pro at this.  
• Getting words on the page – I am not a pro at this.
• Fear...of falling flat on my face ...of the words not coming ...of characters not talking to each other, let alone me; fear of failing my kids, my family, my friends, my bosses.
• I rarely (as in almost never) cook anymore.
• I am an exceptionally bad housekeeper.
• Organized…Not!
• Laziness...lack of energy...just flat out not feeling 'good' for more years than I can count.
• People pleaser – hate, hate, hate conflict.  Want everyone happy and in harmony.
• In a crisis, all the energy leaves my body and I feel an overwhelming need for a nap. Or a dark hole somewhere.  Maybe even a nap in the dark hole.
• Consistently inconsistent.  This post is a perfect example.  
• Did I mention I can talk your ear off?  

Oh, do you hear her?  Violet, the Dowager Countess on Downton Abbey just said, “Stop whining…”  So I shall.
~~~~
How about you?  Can you answer Pat’s questions?  I’d love to learn more about you.

Death Scenes and Life with a Personal Tribute by J Vincent

Death scenes are not what I think of as common fare in writing.  But since my books are centered during the Napoleonic wars and cavalry officers, spies and villians I write a fair share of them.  Some are violent, sudden, a shock.  But the one I have thought of a lot late was expected after a lengthy illness with the entire family gathered by the gentleman’s side.  Everyone had a chance to make their farewells.  It was sad.  I cried as I wrote it and even when I edited some time later.  In writing that scene I drew on my experiences of confusion, sadness, grief, and anger as I watched family members and friends go through terminal illnesses.  But I have never been at a bedside at the moment someone died.  Would it make a difference at how and what I write in such scenes?  What influences do you use if you write such scenes?
 

You may wonder why I would chose such a topic when we write so much more about life but death, an antonym of life, is also part of living.  What follows is a personal rumination on my mother's life..

 Life--existence, being, time, living, days, years.

In the early hours of September 24th I received a call from the long-term care unit that my mother was unresponsive and had entered the final stage of her journey here on earth.  I went in and sat by my mother’s bedside as she lay slowly slipping away.  It was the first time I had seen her serene and peaceful in some time and I considered that a great blessing.  I held her hand and prayed and said my farewell aloud, just the two of us in the hushed hours of the early morning.  I am very grateful for the quirk of fate that gave me those hours alone with Mom.  When I said my final goodbye and left after my brother arrived it was with a sense of profound peace.  When she passed away an hour later while I was taking my morning medical treatments I rejoiced with her that she was now free of suffering and in a far better place.

For the past eleven months Mom had gone through a series of falls and infections that took more and more of her ability to communicate from us.  By August she could hardly see, barely hear, and we couldn’t understand most of what she said.  Pain kept her restless but she was unfailingly gentle and undemanding.  As these last months crept by, I saw Mom stripped one by one of everything on a physical as well as medical plane.  I realized she was giving us a profound lesson in living and how to face death.  She lost her independence, her home, and all of the things she had made or acquired.  Never once did Mom complain.  It has made me think about possessions in a far different light.  I saw that we truly go out of this world with what we came into it.  Some may judge us for what we accumulate or what we lose.  But what we do and have done seems a far better scale on which to be weighed.

Mom tipped those scales wonderfully in her favor.  She was an ordinary farm girl, an ordinary farm wife but those she touched are numberless.  There were over 350 people at her funeral.  The mortuary personnel said they had never seen so many for someone over 90.  But for many many years Mom had given a baby blanket she made to any baby born in a twenty mile radius and took food to almost every home that suffered a death.  She sang in the choir until well into her eighties, she could out embroider anyone and most of us in the family have quilts she either embroidered or hand appliquéd.  She made strip comforters by the dozens and gave them to friends and strangers.  She gardened, canned food, sewed, worked ground, milked cows--there is little I can think of that she couldn’t or hadn’t done at some time in her long life.

So Mom existed, she was a being known by many who lived her days and years as well as she could until she faced death with grace.  I pray I do as well.

You Are Not Alone

Tomorrow is WARA's Mini-Retreat Part 2.  In other words, this is our second 1-day retreat of the year.  I'm really looking forward to it.  It's a great way to refill the well, kick-start a new project, find answers to perplexing plot or character problems, and, in general, have a good time with friends.

In our quest to blog about well refilling this month, we've focused mainly on things we do on our own and by ourselves.  Doing this really is important.  It's also something we shouldn't be doing at our desk or our laptop.  It really is based on getting away and putting some space between writing and self.  We need to take care of us.  When we do that, our writing will often take care of itself.

In addition to our private well-filling and self-nurturing, we need to remember that having friends is just as important.  Even stay-at-home-moms are encouraged to join groups such as Moms Day Out.  Being a hermit, whether chosen or by default, isn't healthy for the soul. We need other people to bring us out of ourselves, to see the world from the perspective of someone else, to expand mentally, emotionally, and creatively.

Groups are fun, especially groups that share an interest.  For a writer, a group can be the one thing that keeps her from giving up, dropping out, or being inert. Just listening to a group of writers---especially female writers!---can lift another write to the point of wanting and sometimes needing to write.  For a women, a group provides friendship, support, and fun.  Last month, four of us (three WARA members and a former member) met at a local movie theater to see Hope Springs.  It provided a wonderful way to get away from our usual venue, do a quick catch-up on what's going on in each other's lives, and enjoy not only the movie, but the company of friends.

If you're finding that refilling the well isn't going as you'd hoped it would, maybe it's time to pull in some help. Gather some friends together for a few hours and have fun.  When it's over, you might look down into that well and discover that it's brimming, once again.  One warning.  Don't make this a time to complain or grumble over the hurdles you're encountering in life.  Make this a time to look for the things that make you smile.  And then do it. ☺

Happiness adds and multiplies, as we divide it with others. -- A. Nielsen

The Magic of Books and People

Thanks to deadlines and family, I missed my blogging date last month, so I'm revisiting July's blog topic and will (hopefully) write about August's later this month.  Hey, at last I'm trying. :)

What or who has been the biggest influence in your writing and why?

Wow!  That's kind of  a loaded question.  There isn't one, specific person or thing that's influenced my writing.  Reading would have to be the first of the "what."  I love to read.  As I mentioned in a previous post, it was my dad who led me to read by sharing his love of books.  I can't remember a time when I wasn't reading or at least looking at pictures in a Little Golden Book.

Reading, of course, led to favorite books and authors.  I read the Trixie Belden series, while others were reading Nancy Drew.  I cut my romance reading teeth in high school with Georgette Heyer, then the classics (Jane Austen, the Bronte sisters, and others).  Stephen King hooked me immediately, beginning with Carrie, although I haven't read his books for several years.  My favorite contemporary romance books are by Susan Elizabeth Phillips, but there far too many others to list.  All of those books and authors have influenced my life in ways I will probably never know.

Then there are the people in my life.  My best friend from age 12 led me back to reading romance in the early '90s, which in turn tempted me to try to write.  Everyone I've met since 1996, when I joined RWA and WARA, have influenced me in some way, and that especially includes the members of WARA.  Along the way, I met others, and if it hadn't been for authors Kathie DeNosky and Janet Barton, I would have given up and thrown in the towel, long before I sold my first book.

While it may take a whole village to raise a child, it definitely takes a whole lifetime of whos and whats to create a writer.  It may be a lonely profession, but the perks are in the books read and written and the friends made along the way.  What or who has been the biggest influence in your writing and why?  Everything and everyone!