Category: goals

favorites, goals, influences, philosophy, stories, writing

The Why Behind the Word

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Life has been weighing heavily on my shoulders this week. You know how it is sometimes? It seems like everywhere you turn there’s more tragedy, more brokenness, more need, more heartache, and it’s all so much you don’t even know where to begin.

And it’s not just the sad stuff. You read stories of people triumphing against the odds to rescue a street boy from an impossible life in Africa. Firefighters doing ridiculous things to save people’s homes in Colorado. People advocating for those who have no voice. All over, people doing their part to bring healing to this broken world.

And this is what always gets me – the need is so big, and so widespread, and others seem to know what to do to meet at least some of the need, but I get so overwhelmed and feel so feeble. What can I offer? Where do I begin? How do I take care of what’s already been entrusted to me and still have something left to give to the world?

Tuesday night, I heard that my hometown was shredded by a micro burst. Literally. Several downtown building were horrifically damaged, including the local hardware store where I worked from when I was a young teenager right up to a week before I got married. The store my dad has worked at for over 30 years. The roof was lifted completely off and flung into the river, and the sub roof couldn’t hold out the rain, and the water just flooded in. At one point they weren’t even sure they could salvage the building.

I was sick. Just sick, thinking about it. And Wednesday morning, when I heard about the community coming in and pulling together to help bring the store back from the brink, to the point where it could re-open for business this afternoon and start giving back to the rest of the community, it killed me that I couldn’t rush right home and join in.

But Grace woke up puking that morning, and I had to take care of her. No home-rushing heroics for me. At one point during the morning I looked at the short spy story document open on my computer and put my head right down on the table and said “WHY? Why do I write? What good does this possibly do in the long run? Why am I spending my time on this earth writing instead of doing … something?”

(And then I had to go hold the puke bucket for Grace again. Truth.)

The more I thought (and prayed) about it, though, the more certain things started to come clear. Would I even be the type of person who wants to do something if it weren’t for the books I grew up reading? Would I be the Louise I am today if I hadn’t grown up with Lucy and Edmund, Anne and Diana, Randy and Rush, Taran and Eilonwy, Will and Bran, and all the rest? In my “Influences” posts, the common thread is that not only did these books shape me as a writer, they shaped me as a person.

It’s an odd circle – if it weren’t for people doing great things, writers wouldn’t be able to imagine such deeds to write about. If it weren’t for writers creating great heroes and deeply compassionate characters, real people might never be inspired to do great things themselves. We need books to show us the people we want to be.

That’s why I write. I write to bring hope, to inspire courage, to give comfort and encouragement. Even in real life, my role has always, since childhood, been that of an encourager. Writing is my way of spreading that beyond my circle of immediate family and friends. It doesn’t excuse me from acting in real life, too (and I pray that I will always be ready, in season and out, to act where I am needed and able), but it helps to give me a purpose, to remind me that my writing is not just for escapism or amusement. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, either (and certainly my spy stories are mostly sheer indulgent fun), but that can’t be all. Not for me.

This all sounds kind of pompous, looking it over now. “See me, how noble my goals are for my writing!” I don’t mean it that way. Rather, it makes me humble, seeing how very far I have to go before I can live up to my own hopes. And it helps to keep me grounded – when I have a day that I can’t write because my poor baby is retching on the couch, I can let that go more easily, because this is the real life that the writing is supposed to help inspire me toward.

My very favorite sort of stories are those of ordinary people doing extraordinary things. And I hope that’s the life I can live, and the stories I can write to encourage others along the same path.

Books, children, goals, Life Talk, school

Reader

elouisebates

A possible near-future conversation between Joy and a librarian or teacher.


Librarian or Teacher, looking at Joy’s armful of books teetering nearly above her head: My, that’s a lot of books! Are you going to read all of them?

Joy: Yes, all by myself.

L or T: Really? How old are you?

Joy: I will be five in November.

L or T: And you can already read all those books by yourself? How did you learn to read so young?

Joy: I got bored.

End scene.

This kid, she amazes me. I really did start to teach her to read simply because she was bored. Bored to the point where she was getting into trouble out of frustration. She struggled a bit at first because it didn’t click immediately (and because I was an idiot and thought I could teach her with easy readers and flash cards – I’m sure that’s all some people need, but I am a lousy teacher and needed a curriculum), but we persevered (all of us – Joy and I did the official school books, but Carl would sit down and patiently work with her through regular books, even letting her read the bedtime stories sometimes), and then, ever so slowly, it started to come together. She would recognize one word when she saw it, then two. Then five. Then she could put together sentences. Then she started figuring out the whole “sound it out” business.

Yesterday afternoon, I walked through the living room and paused. Joy was curled up on the couch with “Mr. Putter and Tabby Pour the Tea,” which we had borrowed from the library last week and hadn’t had a chance to read together yet, and she was reading it. Out loud. By herself. Sounding out the words she didn’t know. Getting some of them wrong, but more of them right. Going back to re-read a sentence that she hadn’t added the proper emphasis to before. Immersed in her own world.

I very nearly burst into tears.

She finished that and picked up “Sam and the Firefly,” another library book, and read through that. Then she read through “Go Dog. Go!” She had to take a bathroom break partway through that one, and I sat in Carl’s study and listened as she read all the books we keep in there for the littles to look at while they use the potty (leftover habit from the days they were potty-training).

I quite honestly had a lump in my throat the rest of the evening. Reading has shaped my life, my very nature, for as long as I can remember. It has been one of the deepest desires of my heart that my children share the same passion and love for the written word as I have. Seeing this love take root in Joy is one of the most rewarding moments in parenthood I’ve had thus far.

She’s reading. My kid is reading.

It still blows my mind.

Now I just have to keep from going absolutely crazy on Amazon and buying every easy reader I can find. I just want to shower her with ALL THE BOOKS IN THE WORLD, but that’s what libraries are for, and I don’t want to deprive her of one of my other deep-set joys, which is finding those amazing books at the library, and the thrill of bringing them home to read.

Taken first thing this morning after she came downstairs. Please ignore the mound of clean laundry next to her. It was a long weekend.

I have a reader. A real live reader. Somebody pinch me!

By the way, the scene up top would never really happen. Joy hates talking to strange adults. I can’t really blame her; I’m not crazy about it either.

critiquing, editing, goals, writing

A Bird’s-Eye Look at Editing

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Easter is over, the eggs are hunted, the family has gone back to their respective houses, the fridge is chock full of ham and sundries, the coffee/tea stash is seriously depleted, and it’s time to start thinking about editing again.

I have adopted a methodical practice for editing this particular MS. First, I printed out the rough draft, and went through it with a pencil, marking specific changes as well as leaving just general comments like “awkward phrasing; fix it,” or “this whole passage sucks; change it,” or if I was feeling kindly toward myself “insert more about specific reasons here.”

Next stage is the one I’m in now, putting the suggested changes into the document.

The next stage is the one I’m dreading, and the reason I read Line by Line: copy-editing. This is the mind-numbing part where I go through and look critically at each line, pulling it apart to see if it is as concise (in case you haven’t gathered as much from my blog posts, I’m a rambly writer), understandable, and lovely as possible.

Then will come one final look-through, and then I will send it out to my beta readers. Assuming I have beta readers at that point, that is. Anyone want to volunteer for that? I’m always happy to read others’ work in exchange. (and yes, I know it’s not considered etiquette to beg for betas in this way. What can I say, I’ve been looking for a critique group for over a year now with no luck, and I’m desperate. Also, my tongue is rather in my cheek, though that doesn’t mean I’d refuse if anyone offered to become a critique partner with me!)

After the betas tear it apart and send it back and I stop sobbing into my pillow over all their suggested improvements, I’ll go through it again, fixing the problems they saw in it. Then I send it back to them, and then we decide if it’s good to go out for submission, or if it needs yet more work.

It’s a fairly exhaustive (and exhausting) process, and it’s more intensive than I’ve ever attempted with any of my other finished MSS. However, of those, one was never meant for publication, but was simply finished as “my first finished novel;” one is languishing in a closed file; and one I’ve ended up tearing apart, breaking down, and starting it again from scratch. So I’m thinking that a more severe editing process might, in fact, be helpful for me. And after reading on Shannon Hale’s blog that some of her works go through nine drafts, I really don’t feel this is too over-the-top.

I’m planning on this taking a long time. I’d been feeling an almost panicked need to get this MS done, to get it out there as quickly as possible so that by the time Carl was ready to go back to school I could maybe, possibly, be helping the family finances. However, by working so hard and feeling so rushed, I was losing a lot of the joy that characterized the first writing of this story in the first place, and more importantly, was finding it harder and harder to enjoy being with my family, because every moment spent with them was a moment I wasn’t writing.

Um, bad priorities.

So I’ve accepted that for right now, my role is not to assist in bringing in any extra money when Carl is in school, at least not through my writing. Depending on his schedule, I can always go back to retail – after eight years before my marriage, I’m pretty comfortable there – once he’s in school, and help out that way. Right now, I’m going to slow down the frenetic pace I’d been applying to the writing, enjoy it, enjoy my family, enjoy life as it is right now, and take as long as I need to in order to make this story as close to perfect as I can, while still savoring being mumsie to my two little chickadees.

What does your editing process look like?

goals, Life Talk

Our First Garden

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Growing up, both Carl and I moaned and whined about helping out in our family’s respective vegetable gardens (especially picking beans, O Woe and Misery!). So naturally, in the last few years, we’ve been wanting to inflict – I mean, introduce our girls to what it’s like to grow at least a portion of one’s food. We weren’t able to do it when we were living at our old place, due to having no space at all to ourselves outdoors, but here in this house, we have loads of yard, front and back. Poor soil quality, though, so we’re doing container gardens instead of planting right in the ground.

I was all for buying seedling already started, but Carl pulled for starting right from seeds, and in thinking about how much more the girls will learn when they get to see the entire process from start to finish (in the grand old homeschool tradition, we are calling this “science class” and we’ll be studying about growing things right along with watching our seeds), I capitulated.

We planted the seeds in our little black plastic starter containers on Sunday, and we have been working ever since at keeping the littles from pulling off the lid to poke and prod, checking to see if their seeds have come up yet. We planted peppers, tomatoes, lettuce, spinach, peas, carrots, marigolds, lavender, and impatiens (lavender for Grace, who wanted “pupple fwowers,” and impatiens for Joy who wanted pink flowers, and marigolds to help ward off mosquitoes), and we are all, even Carl, getting excited about watching them grow, seeing which crops work the best, and enjoying the fruit of our labors this summer.

children, figure skating, goals, Life Talk

Lessons

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WARNING: This post has nothing to do with writing. It is, in fact, mostly bragging on my kid. Because along with being a writer, I’m a MOM, and occasional bragging on my kid goes with the territory.

These two pictures were taken the first time Joy was on the ice. She made either me or my sister carry her the ENTIRE time. Granted, she was a tiny three-year-old at the time, but still, we were SORE the next morning. She has loved watching ice skating with me ever since she was a little baby, but the reality of stepping on the ice scared her to death.
This was her third time on the ice. She didn’t even want to hold my hand by then! She also insisted I show her how to bunny hop. No fear at all, and even the few times she fell, she laughed.
photo by lis hurlbut
First time on single-bladed skates, showing her sister how it’s done.
And THIS is from her first day of Snowplow Sam (that’s the lowest level of skating classes from the United States Figure Skating Association, by the way) in January.

And THIS is last Sunday, when she brought home a certificate stating that she’d passed all of Snowplow Sam, and is ready to start Basic 1 in the fall!
Not bad, for a little over a year. Her first-ever skating show is this Sunday, and my parents, Carl’s mom, my sister and brother-in-law, and possibly Carl’s sister are all coming out to watch and cheer her on. It’s not just about the skating, it’s about finding something she loves, overcoming her fears about it, and excelling at it.
Hmm, maybe there really IS something in here applicable to writing after all …
Hey, have you entered the giveaway yet? If not, go, enter! What are you waiting for?
Books, goals, reading list, writing

Book Snippets

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I did not start on my Shakespeare reading this week. I was going to – I had borrowed The Taming of the Shrew from the library, and sat down at the computer to skim over the summary first (my preferred way of reading Shakespeare, since otherwise I lose much appreciation for the language in trying to decipher the plot and keep all the character straight).

And considering that in my reading of the summary I decided that Petruchio was an abusive jerk that Kate should have poisoned at their wedding feast, I figured I wasn’t exactly in the best mindset to read Shakespeare this week. Maybe I should start with Hamlet?

We have been plagued with mice all week long; Carl finally brought home new traps Saturday evening and we caught six – SIX – in a four-hour period. Have not seen any since, though I am planning on using a combination of peppermint oil and mothballs to keep them out until we’ve had a chance to talk to our landlords and find out if they want to bring in a professional to seal every crack and cranny.

So the mice might have soured my appreciation for the Bard. I certainly was not in any mood to read any Redwall books, either.

I did, however, read The Queen of Attolia, which prompted me to re-read my recently purchased copy of The Thief, because it had been a while since I read it and some of the details were a bit fuzzy. In case you are one of the few people on the planet who (like me) hasn’t read this fantastic series by Megan Whalen Turner, go to your library now and start borrowing them. They are incredibly good. So good that, even though I need to be packing today for going up to my parents’ for Thanksgiving, I’m still planning on making a library run to get the next two books in the series. I really, really wish I could read in the car without getting sick!

I also recently finished the Song of the Lioness quartet – I’ve been friends with Kel and Aly for a few years now, and recently with Beka Cooper, but I’d never been able to find all the Alanna books until we’d moved and gone to a new library. I was bitterly disappointed in the ending of the fourth book (villains NEED more motivation than just, hey, let’s destroy the world for kicks, even though it’s going to destroy me too), but at least it gave me enough background to read the Immortals series. Alanna will never replace Kel as my favorite Tamora Pierce heroine, though.

My writing goals are still out of reach. I have two – TWO – chapters left in my 1920s fantasy-adventure, and do you think I’ve been able to write them? No, because I’ve been scrubbing my floors and counters every other day to get rid of mouse droppings! By the time Carl’s home from work and the littles are in bed, I’ve been able to do little more than collapse in bed or on the couch and either read YA fantasy, or watch my newly-purchased first season of Star Trek: Voyager. (Chakotay is STILL my favorite character out of the entire Star Trek canon, although Worf is a close second. Picard is right on Worf’s heels as third. What can I say? I really, really like nobility, goodness, and conflict within oneself in my heroes.)

However, I am tentatively hopeful that maybe this evening, after my packing is finished, or perhaps while we’re at home, in between cooking and cleaning and practicing makeup techniques with my sister, I might be able to squeeze out those 5,000 words.

Because wow, November has flown by. Can you believe it’s almost December? I am starting a new tradition for our family this year – 25 days of Advent activities (or candy, on those days when my inspiration ran out) leading up to Christmas.

Christmas, my friends! It’s just a little over a month away!

Are you a fan of any or all the Star Trek shows? Do you have a favorite character? What good books have you been reading lately? Can anyone tell me if I missed something crucial at the end of Lioness Rampant explaining the villain’s actions and goals a little more clearly? Am I reading too much into The Taming of the Shrew? Do you have exciting plans for Thanksgiving?