Thanks to those of you who expressed interest in my missing blog! I have added links so anyone interested can purchase my books on line.
Like last year, the Christmas season presented challenges. Jolene's death didn't lay as heavily on my heart, but Mom is now in assisted living ... my son celebrates his faith in the Messiah through Jewish festivals and thus skips Christmas ... so I had to prepare my heart and spirit for a different sort of Christmas celebration.
After the week-long Hannukah celebration with Jaran and his family--can anyone say wonderful?--I was almost welcoming a lowkey Christmas.
I didn't expect to be snowbound! As Tamela Hancock Murray (a co-author of Snowbound Colorado Christmas) said, too bad this wasn't the year we were writing that collection. I could have written from personal experience ...
Snow began falling on Christmas Eve and ended up accumulating 14" in Oklahoma City, the most ever on a single day in this area. Inches of snow pushed against my door (never have I been so thankful for shelter) and snow drifted waist high at the edge of the doorstep. I couldn't get out.
So I stayed home on Christmas Day, baked chocolate cookies, and ate hot dogs and cookies for my Christmas dinner. I had an unopened present ... in my car ... it might as well have been back in Denver.
I had a wonderful morning with the Lord, and enjoyed watching the Librarian movies in the evening. I confess in between I wasted some time in self-pity. Saturday, ditto--especially when we lost power, my son couldn't get here and even the food delivery guys couldn't make it out. (I was getting really tired of hot dogs!)
Yesterday Jaran dug out the path to the car and took me to a convenience store for peanut butter, bread and milk. Never did grilled cheese taste so good! Today I hope to drive myself over to Mom's for a much belated Christmas.
What a Christmas. In retrospect, I suspect I will see the humor of it more than I felt it at the time. What a reminder that Christmas is about God with us, and not about the trappings.
One of my resolutions for 2010: write in this blog, at least once a week.
Thanks to all those who stop by.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Pressing On
Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 3:12-14, NIV)
I reread these familiar verses recently in the wake of a painful rejection of a book project. They struck me anew with the application to a writer's life.
Even with six books to my name, I haven't obtained it. I haven't made it. And I'm far from perfect (as proved by the detailed notes in the rejection letter from the editor).
But I need to keep pressing on, to "take hold," to improve my craft, to become the writer God wants me to be.
To do that, I have to forget what is behind. I need to put past successes, my nomination for a Book of the Year award, numerous contracts and change to a full time, profressional status in the rear view mirror and move forward. I also must set aside the rejection, learn from it, but not let it stop me. I have a set a goal, a goal I believe honors God, and achieving that goal will take pressing on and straining forward.
All of my striving shares one common purpose: the prize, the ultimate gift of serving the Lord who gave everyone for me.
I needed that word from the Lord at one of those vulnerable times in my writer's life.
I reread these familiar verses recently in the wake of a painful rejection of a book project. They struck me anew with the application to a writer's life.
Even with six books to my name, I haven't obtained it. I haven't made it. And I'm far from perfect (as proved by the detailed notes in the rejection letter from the editor).
But I need to keep pressing on, to "take hold," to improve my craft, to become the writer God wants me to be.
To do that, I have to forget what is behind. I need to put past successes, my nomination for a Book of the Year award, numerous contracts and change to a full time, profressional status in the rear view mirror and move forward. I also must set aside the rejection, learn from it, but not let it stop me. I have a set a goal, a goal I believe honors God, and achieving that goal will take pressing on and straining forward.
All of my striving shares one common purpose: the prize, the ultimate gift of serving the Lord who gave everyone for me.
I needed that word from the Lord at one of those vulnerable times in my writer's life.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Exploring Oklahoma
After four months of not moving far beyond the triangle from my house to the assisted living center where Mom is to Jaran's house, I decidied it was time to explore Oklahoma a little bit more. I tried what I did in Colorado. Travel for an hour in any direction and see where I ended up.
Last week I traveled south on I-35 to Paul's Valley and came back via 77. It was a lovely afternoon jaunt.
Yesterday I traveled west on I-44. First surprise (although I should have expected it): it's a toll road that cost me &6.50 for travelling about 50 miles "there and back again." After about half an hour, I decided I was tired and only wanted to get back home. At the time, I was approaching Chickasha. I thought the sign read "next 3 exits," so I was looking for one that that said "food" this exit. I bypassed the MacDonald's because I wanted "real" food.
Big mistake. Only two exits led to Chickasha and the next exit was twenty miles down the road. What could I do? I trundled down the road, exited at Sterling and hoped I could at least find a gas station with bathrooms and snacks. Five miles off the highway, over the crest of the steepest hill I've seen in Oklahoma so far, I think I found Sterling. The main portion of the town lay somewhere to the south of me but I didn't want to get lost trying to find it.
And no, I didn't find any gas station, let alone a restaurant. Thank the Lord I had plenty of gas.
So I headed back for Chickasha and headed for the place a sign advertised for serving "fried pies." I found the stand; but it was closed. But at least I found a gas station. After a bathroom and a nice long cold drink of diet coke and cheese crackers, I felt much revived and made my way home.
Oklahoma, here I come. I think I need to get off the highways and onto the back roads to actually see more than billboards and rest stops.
Last week I traveled south on I-35 to Paul's Valley and came back via 77. It was a lovely afternoon jaunt.
Yesterday I traveled west on I-44. First surprise (although I should have expected it): it's a toll road that cost me &6.50 for travelling about 50 miles "there and back again." After about half an hour, I decided I was tired and only wanted to get back home. At the time, I was approaching Chickasha. I thought the sign read "next 3 exits," so I was looking for one that that said "food" this exit. I bypassed the MacDonald's because I wanted "real" food.
Big mistake. Only two exits led to Chickasha and the next exit was twenty miles down the road. What could I do? I trundled down the road, exited at Sterling and hoped I could at least find a gas station with bathrooms and snacks. Five miles off the highway, over the crest of the steepest hill I've seen in Oklahoma so far, I think I found Sterling. The main portion of the town lay somewhere to the south of me but I didn't want to get lost trying to find it.
And no, I didn't find any gas station, let alone a restaurant. Thank the Lord I had plenty of gas.
So I headed back for Chickasha and headed for the place a sign advertised for serving "fried pies." I found the stand; but it was closed. But at least I found a gas station. After a bathroom and a nice long cold drink of diet coke and cheese crackers, I felt much revived and made my way home.
Oklahoma, here I come. I think I need to get off the highways and onto the back roads to actually see more than billboards and rest stops.
Monday, November 2, 2009
Missing Jolene
Hardly a day goes by when I don't think about Jolene; but rarely do I brood and cry any more.
Until last week. I was trying to think of an example of someone who shared all news, good and bad, with that one special person. And I remembered how Jolene always called me with the details of her life. Oh, how I wanted the phone to ring and to hear her voice. Oh, how I longed to have her run to me full of joy and throw her arms around me. I cried, hard, for several minutes; and tears continued to spill throughout the weekend.
This morning I woke up from a dream about Jolene. I have stacks of boxes to sort through ... things that belonged to Jolene and Mom, as well as some of my own. In my dream, someone found a quilted black-and-pink purse that Jolene prized. They wanted to throw it away; I wasn't sure.
So Jolene was in my thoughts when I woke up. During my quiet time, I sang, "Draw Me Closer, Lord, to Thee." Jolene again skipped into my thoughts when I sang "I long to rise in the arms of faith." Again, I missed her arms around me.
But then I realized ... Jolene doesn't need to be drawn closer to the Lord. Not anymore. She's as close as she can get. That which I prayed for, she already knows.
All I can do is look forward to the day when I join her in the Lord's presence.
Until last week. I was trying to think of an example of someone who shared all news, good and bad, with that one special person. And I remembered how Jolene always called me with the details of her life. Oh, how I wanted the phone to ring and to hear her voice. Oh, how I longed to have her run to me full of joy and throw her arms around me. I cried, hard, for several minutes; and tears continued to spill throughout the weekend.
This morning I woke up from a dream about Jolene. I have stacks of boxes to sort through ... things that belonged to Jolene and Mom, as well as some of my own. In my dream, someone found a quilted black-and-pink purse that Jolene prized. They wanted to throw it away; I wasn't sure.
So Jolene was in my thoughts when I woke up. During my quiet time, I sang, "Draw Me Closer, Lord, to Thee." Jolene again skipped into my thoughts when I sang "I long to rise in the arms of faith." Again, I missed her arms around me.
But then I realized ... Jolene doesn't need to be drawn closer to the Lord. Not anymore. She's as close as she can get. That which I prayed for, she already knows.
All I can do is look forward to the day when I join her in the Lord's presence.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
How Mondays evaporate ... two weeks ago staying up until almost 2 a.m. on Sunday night (you heard me right) listening to the Rockies lose to the Phillies and see their season end ... yesterday, Grandma time with Jordan who slept most of the time but I couldn't get on the Internet.
But here I am today, determined not to let another week go by without writing something.
Fall has arrived in Oklahoma. I took Jordan for a walk along her street last week after rain. I handed her yellow leaves and introduced her to dogs we met. I felt like a teacher when she replied "oof!" the next time she heard a dog barking. It's cool and damp and definitely time for long sleeves. I understand it's already snowed in Colorado, and I can't say I mind having rain instead!
Pumpkins abound everywhere ... the residents in Mom's assisted living place recently decorated pumpkins. One creative person painted theirs with black, white and gold stripes ... very striking. Another lies on the floor of Jaran's house, ready for Shannon to take it to school to decorate.
Speaking of Jaran's house, their cats seem to have adopted me. The adult cat, named an improbably "Pinky" (male and black. Where did Pinky come from?) dozes on my hood whenever he has the opportunity. The kitten Mister (also male and black) isn't satisfied with dozing outside the car. He jumps in as soon as I open the door, probably looking for more of the hamburg he found there once.
In other words, life is good, and Oklahoma begins to feel like home.
But here I am today, determined not to let another week go by without writing something.
Fall has arrived in Oklahoma. I took Jordan for a walk along her street last week after rain. I handed her yellow leaves and introduced her to dogs we met. I felt like a teacher when she replied "oof!" the next time she heard a dog barking. It's cool and damp and definitely time for long sleeves. I understand it's already snowed in Colorado, and I can't say I mind having rain instead!
Pumpkins abound everywhere ... the residents in Mom's assisted living place recently decorated pumpkins. One creative person painted theirs with black, white and gold stripes ... very striking. Another lies on the floor of Jaran's house, ready for Shannon to take it to school to decorate.
Speaking of Jaran's house, their cats seem to have adopted me. The adult cat, named an improbably "Pinky" (male and black. Where did Pinky come from?) dozes on my hood whenever he has the opportunity. The kitten Mister (also male and black) isn't satisfied with dozing outside the car. He jumps in as soon as I open the door, probably looking for more of the hamburg he found there once.
In other words, life is good, and Oklahoma begins to feel like home.
Monday, October 5, 2009
The Dangers of Boasting
Since I decided to start writing full time back in June, I have received several affirmations.
--the three book Vermont historical series for Heartsong (Prodigal Patriot, book #1, due out next summer)
--another novella for 2010 (Face of Mary in A Woodlands Christmas)
--Book of the Year nomination for Dressed in Scarlet in Snowbound Colorado Christmas
--every devotional I've sent out has sold
--publishers considering my longer books
--the awesome booksigning in Denver
--This year's novella anthology, Wild West Christmas started out wild at the gate and promises to sell very well.
--most recently, an invitation to join the staff of a magazine
Not much of this has amounted to much money yet, mind you, but the possibility is there.
I also gave my first speech at Toastmasters and was told I did things well that some Toastmasters take years to learn.
I could be walking around with a puffed up head. Probably am.
Maybe that's why God has sent this path across my path twice in the past week: "Let him who boasts, boast in the Lord" (Jeremiah 9:24, 1 Corinthians 1:31).
Jeremiah in fact reminded me "Let not the wise man boast of his wisdom or the strong man boast of his strength or the rich man boast of his riches, or the writers of her contracts (my insertion) but let who boasts boast about this: that he understands and knows me."
I pray I will be faithful with the opportunities God is giving me.
--the three book Vermont historical series for Heartsong (Prodigal Patriot, book #1, due out next summer)
--another novella for 2010 (Face of Mary in A Woodlands Christmas)
--Book of the Year nomination for Dressed in Scarlet in Snowbound Colorado Christmas
--every devotional I've sent out has sold
--publishers considering my longer books
--the awesome booksigning in Denver
--This year's novella anthology, Wild West Christmas started out wild at the gate and promises to sell very well.
--most recently, an invitation to join the staff of a magazine
Not much of this has amounted to much money yet, mind you, but the possibility is there.
I also gave my first speech at Toastmasters and was told I did things well that some Toastmasters take years to learn.
I could be walking around with a puffed up head. Probably am.
Maybe that's why God has sent this path across my path twice in the past week: "Let him who boasts, boast in the Lord" (Jeremiah 9:24, 1 Corinthians 1:31).
Jeremiah in fact reminded me "Let not the wise man boast of his wisdom or the strong man boast of his strength or the rich man boast of his riches, or the writers of her contracts (my insertion) but let who boasts boast about this: that he understands and knows me."
I pray I will be faithful with the opportunities God is giving me.
Monday, September 21, 2009
ACFW Afterglow
ACFW=American Christian Fiction Writers. I went to their national conference in Denver last weekend.
The best way to describe conference for me a reunion with hundreds of my closest family members, to put faces with people I have come to know and love via email.
I may post several times about conference - different aspects of the experience - but for now I'll share high points and low points.
The low points jumped on me when I crossed the two-building length one more time to get to lunch--to discover the meal was a buffet and I had to stand in line. I started crying. I went to conference sans cane and sans pain pills and overall did well. But I'd had it by lunch that day.
As for high points, I laughed and smiled my way through the booksigning. No, I didn't have an out-the-door line like Debbie Macomber (I sat a table near her). But I did have a lot more than the "possibly none" every writer fears at occasions like this.
The laughter?
My roommate and good friend Connie Peters brought four of my books to sign. I wrote something different in each one. For my mystery, I was trying to write Enjoy the murder and mayhem.
I was talking while I was signing and my subconscious took over. I actually wrote Enjoy your murder and mayhem.
Susan Davis, who shared the table with me, told Connie,"Well, it's your book. You bought it."
Renewed laughter.
There is more to the story, about a purple pen (thanks to Rene Gutheridge).
Tears of happiness when a friend from Echostar took a bus from downtown Denver to the Tech Center to come to the signing. Waving at you, Gregory!
Later I'll tell you what I learned.
The best way to describe conference for me a reunion with hundreds of my closest family members, to put faces with people I have come to know and love via email.
I may post several times about conference - different aspects of the experience - but for now I'll share high points and low points.
The low points jumped on me when I crossed the two-building length one more time to get to lunch--to discover the meal was a buffet and I had to stand in line. I started crying. I went to conference sans cane and sans pain pills and overall did well. But I'd had it by lunch that day.
As for high points, I laughed and smiled my way through the booksigning. No, I didn't have an out-the-door line like Debbie Macomber (I sat a table near her). But I did have a lot more than the "possibly none" every writer fears at occasions like this.
The laughter?
My roommate and good friend Connie Peters brought four of my books to sign. I wrote something different in each one. For my mystery, I was trying to write Enjoy the murder and mayhem.
I was talking while I was signing and my subconscious took over. I actually wrote Enjoy your murder and mayhem.
Susan Davis, who shared the table with me, told Connie,"Well, it's your book. You bought it."
Renewed laughter.
There is more to the story, about a purple pen (thanks to Rene Gutheridge).
Tears of happiness when a friend from Echostar took a bus from downtown Denver to the Tech Center to come to the signing. Waving at you, Gregory!
Later I'll tell you what I learned.
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