"The only test we should use to allow a particular emotion to run its course in our lives is to examine what the final outcome of that emotion will be. Think it through to its logical conclusion, and if the outcome is something that God would condemn, put a stop to it immediately But if it is an emotion that has been kindled by the Spirit of God and you don't allow it to have its way in your life, it will cause a reaction on a lower level than God intended." Oswald Chambers
Doubt Depression Frustration Despair
I've been getting these a lot lately. I'm pretty sure nothing good comes of those, so why do I let them take hold of me sometimes?
Lately, though, I've started feeling little bits of hope here and there, too. When I get a new request for my manuscript. When I get great praise for my writing. When I drop another query and 50 pages in the mailbox. When I hear a song that reminds me of what I felt last summer as I was bringing this book to a close.
And then I crush that feeling. I don't want to feel it, because feeling hope and excitement makes the fall so much harder.
A friend gave this quote to me today. It's made me really think about what I do with emotions, and why I let the bad ones simmer, and the good ones I kill off. Really, what use is that?
The depression and doubt lead to nothing good. Ever.
Hope will eventually lead to something good. Even if it takes a while.
I'm not quite there yet. But I'm working on it.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Stupidity or Bravery? I'm not making that call.
Agent Jessica Faust wrote a post today about how she began making her dreams come true. It's got me thinking about bravery, and taking chances, and what kind of person am I.
I'd like to think I am that kind of person. The kind who takes chances and risks and sets out on adventures. I'm not sure if I actually am that person, but I want to be that kind of person. It's the reason I chose to go to an out of state university when there were plenty of in-state universities and private colleges I could have gone to - but were crowded with people I knew.
It was the reason that, when I was 21 and graduating college and looking for a teaching job, I thought to myself, "This is the chance to break out and go somewhere completely different." I wanted badly to go overseas, but the schools overseas required two years of experience, so I resigned myself to getting those two years under my belt in the most un-east-coast-like place I could find.
In January of 1992 I packed my Toyota Tercel to the hilt with everything in the world I owned and drove from Virginia to Texas to take a job in a state I didn't hardly know a soul. As it turned out, I didn't really know the food or culture or language either. Or the music. Or the fashion.
It only took a few weeks to begin to feel like I had made a huge mistake. I hated teaching - especially since I stepped in to take over another teacher's class who clearly had spent half a year not teaching. I hated my lonely apartment. I felt trapped by my less than livable wage salary ($812 a month, $503 of which went to the rent). To call it homesickness wouldn't even come close. But I'd made a commitment, and I determined to stick with it at least until summer.
By summer, I'd made a few friends, including the man I would later marry. I'd bought a pair of Justin Ropers, fallen in love with Tex Mex food, and could say y'all casually as well as the next guy. I was vastly afraid of looking like a failure, so I signed up for another year, determined to really give it a go before quitting.
And it turned out that having a class from the beginning was a far different cry than taking over someone else's. And I loved it. And slowly, that place became home.
My parents love to tell the story of how I packed everything in my car and drove across country to a place I didn't know. They think I'm brave. In truth, maybe I was more stupid than brave. But I look at that now and think, is that going to be the main act of courage in my life?
When I decided to write and pursue publishing, that felt brave. Even braver - telling people that I was doing it. But I won't lie. Sometimes I wonder if I am more stupid than brave. Is it only bravery when it actually works out? I wonder if I am wasting my time pursuing a dream that may not be meant to be. How much persistence is important, and how much is just plain desperation going nowhere?
I'd like to think I am that kind of person. The kind who takes chances and risks and sets out on adventures. I'm not sure if I actually am that person, but I want to be that kind of person. It's the reason I chose to go to an out of state university when there were plenty of in-state universities and private colleges I could have gone to - but were crowded with people I knew.
It was the reason that, when I was 21 and graduating college and looking for a teaching job, I thought to myself, "This is the chance to break out and go somewhere completely different." I wanted badly to go overseas, but the schools overseas required two years of experience, so I resigned myself to getting those two years under my belt in the most un-east-coast-like place I could find.
In January of 1992 I packed my Toyota Tercel to the hilt with everything in the world I owned and drove from Virginia to Texas to take a job in a state I didn't hardly know a soul. As it turned out, I didn't really know the food or culture or language either. Or the music. Or the fashion.
It only took a few weeks to begin to feel like I had made a huge mistake. I hated teaching - especially since I stepped in to take over another teacher's class who clearly had spent half a year not teaching. I hated my lonely apartment. I felt trapped by my less than livable wage salary ($812 a month, $503 of which went to the rent). To call it homesickness wouldn't even come close. But I'd made a commitment, and I determined to stick with it at least until summer.
By summer, I'd made a few friends, including the man I would later marry. I'd bought a pair of Justin Ropers, fallen in love with Tex Mex food, and could say y'all casually as well as the next guy. I was vastly afraid of looking like a failure, so I signed up for another year, determined to really give it a go before quitting.
And it turned out that having a class from the beginning was a far different cry than taking over someone else's. And I loved it. And slowly, that place became home.
My parents love to tell the story of how I packed everything in my car and drove across country to a place I didn't know. They think I'm brave. In truth, maybe I was more stupid than brave. But I look at that now and think, is that going to be the main act of courage in my life?
When I decided to write and pursue publishing, that felt brave. Even braver - telling people that I was doing it. But I won't lie. Sometimes I wonder if I am more stupid than brave. Is it only bravery when it actually works out? I wonder if I am wasting my time pursuing a dream that may not be meant to be. How much persistence is important, and how much is just plain desperation going nowhere?
Friday, March 20, 2009
It Must Be Spring!
Daffodils up: check.

Crocuses open: check.

Birds flocking to our bird feeder: check.

Weeks until Farmer's Market opens: 1

Weeks until Pool opens: 9! (down to single digits!!)
Happy first day of Spring, y'all!
(and head over to Kerri's blog and wish her happy birthday!)
Crocuses open: check.

Birds flocking to our bird feeder: check.
Weeks until Farmer's Market opens: 1

Weeks until Pool opens: 9! (down to single digits!!)
Happy first day of Spring, y'all!
(and head over to Kerri's blog and wish her happy birthday!)
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Write or Die
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| lab.drwicked.com | |
Sometimes people wait around for a muse. Some people need more harsh treatment. Like screeching violins or blinking red lights. Or a deadline.
It's not that I haven't been writing. But I am just so distractable. Starting a new book is hard. It's hard to find that good pacing, to get lost in it. Starting a new book is exhausting, creative, creating work. And focus is not always my strong suit.
There's email to check - or email that keeps popping up on my screen. There are photos to upload and Twitter to check and blogs clamoring for attention. There is a house to clean and music to listen to and exercise to do and kids to pick up and spiders to squish and dishes to wash and laundry to be folded and food... to make and to eat.
There is just a whole heap of interesting world out there calling for me.
Yeah, focus isn't always my strong suit.
But I finally tried Dr. Wicked's Write or Die. I knew of it... I just didn't think it was for me. I'm not particularly motivated by negative stimuli. But, frustrated at my slow, plodding pace in this new book, I finally tried it.
And what do you know??? It worked!!
In less than an hour, in three sessions of 20 minutes each, I added 1800 words to my WIP. That's the most I've written since I put MOCKINGBIRD to rest.
So I now have enough I can call this officially a begun project.
I'll be putting my progress on the side bar as soon as I get the time to add it.
I feel like I'm finally on my way.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
New Book - Scene 6
I'm beginning to nail this book down. I had a major breakthrough this weekend, the one thing that was holding me back, and now I am knee -deep in a book I am starting to really love, and a character I am starting to love.
Riley was a tough one to grab a hold of. She's changed since when I started this. Usually, my characters are the first to come at me - loud and in charge. The story somewhat follows. Riley came, shyly and a bit sad... a woman with a huge hole in her heart.
But she didn't sit well with me. After the snappiness of Babs, Riley seemed too depressing. I wanted her to be more upbeat and fun to hang out with day after day. But to do that brought complications to the plot I wasn't ready to dive in to.
For a while it seemed she could be depressing and sympathetic, or fun but hate-able. I didn't like either option.
I kept writing. Rewriting. I think I now have four or five first chapters, as well as other snippets of other scenes in the book. And I finally found her.
It was the kind of WOW moment I really needed. Defining her - and a huge event in her life - has redefined the book into something WOW. It's the kind of thing I lay awake at night thinking, "I can't believe I thought of this! This is it!"
Getting over that hump was hard. But it wasn't going to come if I didn't sit down and write, even not knowing where I was going. I had to write - a lot of crap, actually - to get to the gem. But now that I'm there, I feel like I'm back in it. I'm where I belong.
I've found another song that fits so well. It's another one for John, who has become a much larger - and at the same time smaller - piece of this puzzle. He is the key that will tie it all together.
If he could sing - I think this is what he'd sing to her.
Riley was a tough one to grab a hold of. She's changed since when I started this. Usually, my characters are the first to come at me - loud and in charge. The story somewhat follows. Riley came, shyly and a bit sad... a woman with a huge hole in her heart.
But she didn't sit well with me. After the snappiness of Babs, Riley seemed too depressing. I wanted her to be more upbeat and fun to hang out with day after day. But to do that brought complications to the plot I wasn't ready to dive in to.
For a while it seemed she could be depressing and sympathetic, or fun but hate-able. I didn't like either option.
I kept writing. Rewriting. I think I now have four or five first chapters, as well as other snippets of other scenes in the book. And I finally found her.
It was the kind of WOW moment I really needed. Defining her - and a huge event in her life - has redefined the book into something WOW. It's the kind of thing I lay awake at night thinking, "I can't believe I thought of this! This is it!"
Getting over that hump was hard. But it wasn't going to come if I didn't sit down and write, even not knowing where I was going. I had to write - a lot of crap, actually - to get to the gem. But now that I'm there, I feel like I'm back in it. I'm where I belong.
I've found another song that fits so well. It's another one for John, who has become a much larger - and at the same time smaller - piece of this puzzle. He is the key that will tie it all together.
If he could sing - I think this is what he'd sing to her.
I'm leaving but don't worry
I'll be back again
You're always right here
And you're grieving but don't hurry to your pack of friends
I'll stay
It's clear
The one you knew from your love
I grew into complete and whole
And the way I justify
It's my way to control love everlasting
I see your sweater rests upon your bed
Reminds me of home
It can't be any better than it is in my head
I'm blinded by roam
The one you knew from your love
I grew into complete and whole
Ad the way I justify
It's my way to control
There's only one way I know how to do this
Stay here and help me live through this and I'll always be
The one you knew from your love
I grew into complete and whole
And the way I justify
It's my way to control love everlasting
Sunday, March 15, 2009
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