Dear Friends,
I'll be sharing posts across at a new blog I've just made. It's name is "It Just Occurred to Me" and it's address is www.justoccurred.blogspot.com
I think I needed a fresh blogging outlook and vision. I really hope to hear from you there.
God Bless anyone who has followed me all this time.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Concrete Mountains
Or "Ashes under the soles of our feet" Part 2
Continuing on from my reflection of a few weeks ago, I won't even bother to ask if you've ever wondered how God's promises can be consistently true when we don't seem to see them borne out in people's lives. I'm sure everybody wonders that at some times. All around us, people seem to be battling problems that seem insurmountable; Christians who consider themselves heirs to God's promises sadly appear to be no different in many cases.
So problems may seem like concrete rather than ash, and our natural instinct is to grab a pick-axe or other heavy excavation tool to come against them with force. We also want to chase those elusive blessings until we nail them down. In the ten years I've been writing books I've had spells of frenetic activity, racing around madly trying to think of new and innovative ways to sell them, driven by terror that I won't get my novels off the ground and the whole thing will crash and burn. And I've collapsed onto my pillow at night, close to tears which surprise me. Often when I think I'm taking something calmly, my body knows differently.
But aren't we supposed to be hard at work, looking after our own interests? You may well ask. The alternative that springs to mind is that we sit around doing nothing but waiting for God to act on our behalf. I've tried this approach too and it works no better.
After a lot of prayer and angst, I believe God has revealed to me that the key is in our attitude. We serenely do what we see before us, we take the next step, but we do it with a peaceful and trusting state of mind. We know that any individual action may fall short of what we intended but it doesn't rattle our composure. The one true friend powerful enough to turn our cement mountains into ash is God Himself. As we do what we see before us, we trust Him to honor our efforts and faith by doing what only He can do. We echo Psalm 90, imploring God to establish the work of our hands and believe that He will do it.
'Every promise of Scripture is a writing of God which may be pleaded before Him with this reasonable request, "Do as thou hast said." The Creator will not cheat the creature who depends upon His truth and far more, the Heavenly Father will not break His Word to His own child'
Charles H Spurgeon
Continuing on from my reflection of a few weeks ago, I won't even bother to ask if you've ever wondered how God's promises can be consistently true when we don't seem to see them borne out in people's lives. I'm sure everybody wonders that at some times. All around us, people seem to be battling problems that seem insurmountable; Christians who consider themselves heirs to God's promises sadly appear to be no different in many cases.
So problems may seem like concrete rather than ash, and our natural instinct is to grab a pick-axe or other heavy excavation tool to come against them with force. We also want to chase those elusive blessings until we nail them down. In the ten years I've been writing books I've had spells of frenetic activity, racing around madly trying to think of new and innovative ways to sell them, driven by terror that I won't get my novels off the ground and the whole thing will crash and burn. And I've collapsed onto my pillow at night, close to tears which surprise me. Often when I think I'm taking something calmly, my body knows differently.
But aren't we supposed to be hard at work, looking after our own interests? You may well ask. The alternative that springs to mind is that we sit around doing nothing but waiting for God to act on our behalf. I've tried this approach too and it works no better.
After a lot of prayer and angst, I believe God has revealed to me that the key is in our attitude. We serenely do what we see before us, we take the next step, but we do it with a peaceful and trusting state of mind. We know that any individual action may fall short of what we intended but it doesn't rattle our composure. The one true friend powerful enough to turn our cement mountains into ash is God Himself. As we do what we see before us, we trust Him to honor our efforts and faith by doing what only He can do. We echo Psalm 90, imploring God to establish the work of our hands and believe that He will do it.
'Every promise of Scripture is a writing of God which may be pleaded before Him with this reasonable request, "Do as thou hast said." The Creator will not cheat the creature who depends upon His truth and far more, the Heavenly Father will not break His Word to His own child'
Charles H Spurgeon
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Some Australian book reviews
I am going to include a review or two on my blog on a regular basis. As material by Australian Christians often remains under-highlighted by shops, this will be my main focus. I've always referred to reviews to help me decide whether or not to buy a particular book and I'm really looking forward to getting started. Today I'll begin with a novel and a book of devotions.
STREETS ON A MAP by Dale Harcombe
Abby, a successful singer in metropolitan Sydney, marries Joel and moves to Astley, the country town he was raised in. Feeling shunned by the locals and at a loss for things to do, she must get creative. Before long, Abby discovers that life in the small town holds more in store than she ever anticipated.
Astley turns out to be a paradigm of the wider world. Normal people lead lives of quiet heroism. Every day is full of noble gestures that may go unnoticed in the grand scheme of events, yet have the power and potential to change the lives of others. A deliberately lit fire, a baby's early delivery, a brand new business, the return of an estranged sister and a cold-blooded attack are just some of the issues dealt with in the story.
As the characters are all honest, regular, down-to-earth people, it's no stretch of the imagination for readers to see that we too, may be a source of huge blessings. It is a story of how small ripples may have more far-reaching effects in our sphere of influence than we may imagine. Beautiful reflections about relationships and the Australian lifestyle make "Streets on a Map" the sort of book that helps us to realize the value of what we have. I found myself refreshed with a renewed sense of optimism and contentment by the finish.
THANKFUL FOR DISHES by Narelle Nettelbeck
This is a book of 1oo devotions for busy mothers. Narelle Nettelbeck understands how worn out women can become as we try to juggle many different aspects of daily life at once. She also knows that the encouragement we need to fulfill our roles is sometimes a long time coming and has taken it upon herself to fill the gap. Each of these devotions is pure gold, never condemning but always convicting in a very gentle way.
They have also helped to transform my vocabulary. Things I once called "mundane" have now become "noble". It's a book that lives up to its title. I never thought I'd say this, but as I read I found that I truly was thankful for my dishes.
Next week I will review the following novels
Mary's Guardian - Carol Preston
African Hearts - Laura O'Connell
STREETS ON A MAP by Dale Harcombe
Abby, a successful singer in metropolitan Sydney, marries Joel and moves to Astley, the country town he was raised in. Feeling shunned by the locals and at a loss for things to do, she must get creative. Before long, Abby discovers that life in the small town holds more in store than she ever anticipated.
Astley turns out to be a paradigm of the wider world. Normal people lead lives of quiet heroism. Every day is full of noble gestures that may go unnoticed in the grand scheme of events, yet have the power and potential to change the lives of others. A deliberately lit fire, a baby's early delivery, a brand new business, the return of an estranged sister and a cold-blooded attack are just some of the issues dealt with in the story.
As the characters are all honest, regular, down-to-earth people, it's no stretch of the imagination for readers to see that we too, may be a source of huge blessings. It is a story of how small ripples may have more far-reaching effects in our sphere of influence than we may imagine. Beautiful reflections about relationships and the Australian lifestyle make "Streets on a Map" the sort of book that helps us to realize the value of what we have. I found myself refreshed with a renewed sense of optimism and contentment by the finish.
THANKFUL FOR DISHES by Narelle Nettelbeck
This is a book of 1oo devotions for busy mothers. Narelle Nettelbeck understands how worn out women can become as we try to juggle many different aspects of daily life at once. She also knows that the encouragement we need to fulfill our roles is sometimes a long time coming and has taken it upon herself to fill the gap. Each of these devotions is pure gold, never condemning but always convicting in a very gentle way.
They have also helped to transform my vocabulary. Things I once called "mundane" have now become "noble". It's a book that lives up to its title. I never thought I'd say this, but as I read I found that I truly was thankful for my dishes.
Next week I will review the following novels
Mary's Guardian - Carol Preston
African Hearts - Laura O'Connell
Thursday, March 24, 2011
My heart for "Best Forgotten"
"Best Forgotten" is my brand new fiction title. I've loved the challenge of writing every single one of my novels but in this one, I've tried to weave together elements of mystery, suspense and redemption in a way I've never done before.
A young accident victim wakes up in hospital and can't remember who he is. He finds that not only does he have nothing in common with his family but he develops an aversion to the person he used to be. He just can't understand or relate to the way he used to behave or the choices he made. The more he learns about himself, the more puzzled and upset he feels.
He finds out that his best friend had disappeared without a trace on the night of his own accident. The more he tries to investigate, the more likely it appears that he was involved in something really shady. And he's terrified that something bad is after him. So he's torn between wanting to find out and being terrified that he'll have to face horrible consequences when he does.
When you, readers, find out the mystery, hopefully you'll let out a dramatic gasp and cry out, "Oh wow, I never saw that one coming!" That was my intention, anyway :)
As a theme, I've been fascinated for a long time by the relationship between our thinking patterns and what we make of our lives. How much is a person's personality shaped by their sum of experiences? To what extent do the thoughts we choose make us into the people we are? Do the small, apparently random choices we make during our daily lives have the impact to come back when least expected and influence the rest of our lives?
I love it when a work of fiction not only entertains readers but changes us at the core too, by getting us to think about how what we've read within the pages may also have bearing on our own lives and apply to us. These are the stories we like to remember, lend to others and call really special. It's a quest I've tried to take seriously. Novelists have the responsibility to readers to offer the very best and that's what I hope I've achieved.
When you visit your local Koorong store, please remember to pick up "Best Forgotten" (I couldn't resist the chance to work in this pun.) It is also available from other good regional Christian bookstores. Please remember "Best Forgotten" when you're wondering what present to give a book-loving friend. Its plot and theme should be of wide general appeal. If you've ever read and enjoyed any of my books before, I'm appealing to you to get hold of a copy of this, because readers have a responsibility toward authors too. If Koorong don't make good sales, they will not buy any of my future titles :( That would make me very sad because I'd have to stop writing :( Hopefully it would make some of you sad too. But I won't worry about that happening because I trust people will remember "Best Forgotten" and my other titles too.
For Aussie and international readers alike, the book is also available directly from my website, www.appleleafbooks.com and also from Amazon.com.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Ashes under the soles of our feet (Part 1)
"The Sun of Righteousness will dawn on those who honor my name, healing radiating from its wings. You will be bursting with energy like colts, frisky and frolicking. And you'll tromp on the wicked. They'll be nothing but ashes under your feet on that day." Malachi 4: 2-3, The Message.
Firstly, I don't think 'the wicked' is necessarily referring only to people or even spiritual forces who stand against us. Adverse circumstances which we hate - sickness, feeling hampered from moving forward into our personal mission, anything that causes us to feel downcast and unhappy, I can quite easily consider 'wicked.' Agents that cause it may be human, spiritual or a combination. Anything that takes away our joy can fit the description, for the joy of the Lord is our strength.
Secondly, whenever I am worn out, physically, mentally or spiritually, and take time to sit back and figure out why, I often discover I've been unconsciously thinking if I don't take certain actions, all will be lost! Hopes and dreams will gurgle down the plughole! Health will deteriorate. Children will go to seed and become undisciplined. I walk around feeling as if holding everything together depends on me. Imagine a person who sets their face, believing that they can walk into the heart of a cyclone with arms outstretched, attempting to ward it off single-handed. Or think of Atlas, walking forever hunched and bowed beneath the weight of the whole world. That describes my attitude at times.
It explains the ache in my shoulders and neck, trembling in my limbs, churning in my stomach and intense fatigue in my whole spirit. At times I am exhausted with a 'fighting' mentality I am not supposed to have. I know the Bible refers to Christians as 'mighty warriors' but that is in Christ, not in our own strength.
So I started to ponder the passage above from the Book of Malachi. We all know ashes collapse with the tiniest contact. We hardly need to touch them, let along pound, prod, bash and attack, as is our natural instinct. Not only do they immediately collapse but they disintegrate into such a fine, grey powder that nothing remains. They may appear to be deceptively solid. After a BBQ or camp fire has finished, we see rock-like structures in the cold embers retaining their shape, but when we touch them they disintegrate into fine ash. The solid appearance was merely an illusion.
So is this passage from Malachi telling us that the 'wickedness' we perceive in our lives, these problems may be the same? What an incredible feeling of release we should feel if this is true. How do we come to a place where we can laugh at daily problems that are a part of life and treat them as the ashes we are told they are?
That will be the subject of my next post (Part 2) Remember, I've resolved not to make my blog posts too long :D I'll catch you in a few days.
Firstly, I don't think 'the wicked' is necessarily referring only to people or even spiritual forces who stand against us. Adverse circumstances which we hate - sickness, feeling hampered from moving forward into our personal mission, anything that causes us to feel downcast and unhappy, I can quite easily consider 'wicked.' Agents that cause it may be human, spiritual or a combination. Anything that takes away our joy can fit the description, for the joy of the Lord is our strength.
Secondly, whenever I am worn out, physically, mentally or spiritually, and take time to sit back and figure out why, I often discover I've been unconsciously thinking if I don't take certain actions, all will be lost! Hopes and dreams will gurgle down the plughole! Health will deteriorate. Children will go to seed and become undisciplined. I walk around feeling as if holding everything together depends on me. Imagine a person who sets their face, believing that they can walk into the heart of a cyclone with arms outstretched, attempting to ward it off single-handed. Or think of Atlas, walking forever hunched and bowed beneath the weight of the whole world. That describes my attitude at times.
It explains the ache in my shoulders and neck, trembling in my limbs, churning in my stomach and intense fatigue in my whole spirit. At times I am exhausted with a 'fighting' mentality I am not supposed to have. I know the Bible refers to Christians as 'mighty warriors' but that is in Christ, not in our own strength.
So I started to ponder the passage above from the Book of Malachi. We all know ashes collapse with the tiniest contact. We hardly need to touch them, let along pound, prod, bash and attack, as is our natural instinct. Not only do they immediately collapse but they disintegrate into such a fine, grey powder that nothing remains. They may appear to be deceptively solid. After a BBQ or camp fire has finished, we see rock-like structures in the cold embers retaining their shape, but when we touch them they disintegrate into fine ash. The solid appearance was merely an illusion.
So is this passage from Malachi telling us that the 'wickedness' we perceive in our lives, these problems may be the same? What an incredible feeling of release we should feel if this is true. How do we come to a place where we can laugh at daily problems that are a part of life and treat them as the ashes we are told they are?
That will be the subject of my next post (Part 2) Remember, I've resolved not to make my blog posts too long :D I'll catch you in a few days.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Good Smelling Prayers
Many bloggers have written posts about prayer and I'm about to have my say too.
It is easy to go through dry patches in our prayer life simply because God is on such a different dimension to humans. While friends and family will smile and respond to the words we say, I'm sure we've all had moments when we wonder how we can be certain that God even hears us. How can we keep our prayer-drive going or encourage others to when we are faced with nothing measurable by the 5 senses? It seems no wonder that in busy schedules, prayer is often the first thing to be sacrificed in a daily planner.
I came across a provocative passage about the mechanics of prayer and how it actually works. What if there is some sort of real, measurable energy that radiates from our souls to God when we pray - that humans simply have not learned to measure? Something real, tangible and perceptive to Him. It's easy to understand when we remember that dogs and other animals perceive extremely subtle sounds and scents which humans are simply not tuned into. Yet it clearly doesn't mean that these sounds and scents don't exist because we can't hear and smell them.
We cannot detect ultrasound waves with our natural senses either. I can remember lying there watching my babies wriggle around in my pregnant belly but I certainly couldn't feel the waves that were pouring through my flesh, allowing the images to appear on the computer monitor. It is the same with radio waves, which have always existed long before humans figured out how to tap into them.
It makes perfect sense to believe that a powerful spiritual energy rises from us to God when we pray. Scripture claims that in heaven there are "golden bowls full of incense which are the prayers of the saints." (Revelation 5:8) What if that is literal and our prayers can, in fact, be captured by God and placed into actual bowls? Imagine that image the next time you wonder whether it's even worth bothering to pray.
In Scripture, Paul calls believers, "the aroma of Christ" and "fragrance of life" (2 Corinthians 2: 15-16) In the realm of the eternal, this also may be literally true. Imagine that God smells us, and we smell good. And also we have no way of measuring such things now, what if there may be a possibility in the future?
When we are told, "the prayers of a righteous man (or woman) avails much" we'd do well to believe it. It's not just a nice thought that people say based on wishful thinking. Sometimes we may get warm fuzzies when we pray - Christian biographies and novels tell us this - but we shouldn't fall into the trap of feeling frustrated and disappointed when we don't. It doesn't mean that results aren't happening. Often the most amazing spiritual breakthroughs take place far beyond the realm of what we detect with our physical feelings. That's enough to keep me excited about persevering. How about you?
It is easy to go through dry patches in our prayer life simply because God is on such a different dimension to humans. While friends and family will smile and respond to the words we say, I'm sure we've all had moments when we wonder how we can be certain that God even hears us. How can we keep our prayer-drive going or encourage others to when we are faced with nothing measurable by the 5 senses? It seems no wonder that in busy schedules, prayer is often the first thing to be sacrificed in a daily planner.
I came across a provocative passage about the mechanics of prayer and how it actually works. What if there is some sort of real, measurable energy that radiates from our souls to God when we pray - that humans simply have not learned to measure? Something real, tangible and perceptive to Him. It's easy to understand when we remember that dogs and other animals perceive extremely subtle sounds and scents which humans are simply not tuned into. Yet it clearly doesn't mean that these sounds and scents don't exist because we can't hear and smell them.
We cannot detect ultrasound waves with our natural senses either. I can remember lying there watching my babies wriggle around in my pregnant belly but I certainly couldn't feel the waves that were pouring through my flesh, allowing the images to appear on the computer monitor. It is the same with radio waves, which have always existed long before humans figured out how to tap into them.
It makes perfect sense to believe that a powerful spiritual energy rises from us to God when we pray. Scripture claims that in heaven there are "golden bowls full of incense which are the prayers of the saints." (Revelation 5:8) What if that is literal and our prayers can, in fact, be captured by God and placed into actual bowls? Imagine that image the next time you wonder whether it's even worth bothering to pray.
In Scripture, Paul calls believers, "the aroma of Christ" and "fragrance of life" (2 Corinthians 2: 15-16) In the realm of the eternal, this also may be literally true. Imagine that God smells us, and we smell good. And also we have no way of measuring such things now, what if there may be a possibility in the future?
When we are told, "the prayers of a righteous man (or woman) avails much" we'd do well to believe it. It's not just a nice thought that people say based on wishful thinking. Sometimes we may get warm fuzzies when we pray - Christian biographies and novels tell us this - but we shouldn't fall into the trap of feeling frustrated and disappointed when we don't. It doesn't mean that results aren't happening. Often the most amazing spiritual breakthroughs take place far beyond the realm of what we detect with our physical feelings. That's enough to keep me excited about persevering. How about you?
Thursday, January 27, 2011
The Illiterate Generation
Is this the stage we've come to?
Recently we heard through the media that the current younger generation (and I guess they're talking about Y and Z) is the first generation since Australian settlement that is more illiterate than their parents! That's a concern but when I thought about it, I had to admit that I was not all that surprised for several reasons.
These are days of fast text talk and fashionable abbreviations. Sadly, I've seen billboards and magazine adverts with terms such as LOL and ROFL indicating that their writers assume everybody can understand them. When sentences can be shortened to C U L8R, who even needs to be literate in the 21st century? Not long ago, I made the mistake of not noticing that I was reading Face Book news feed on my daughter's profile. Assuming it was my profile, I made a few comments. Emma got really cranky and started scolding me. "Mum, can't you just LOOK! This is so embarrassing if people think it's me commenting."
As everything I'd written was quite pleasant and innocuous, I asked her why it would be such a disaster. Her answer spoke volumes. "Because you use full-stops and commas. You spell properly and put all those little wriggly things around sentences when people talk. I don't want people to think I'm a dork."
So it's become trendy and fashionable to use no grammar and punctuation! In that case, we may be up against a thicker brick wall than we ever expected. If you follow internet forums, you'll bang your head against it all the time. We have to turn a blind eye or we're called "Grammar Nazis." Lynne Truss quotes this film review example in her book, "Eats, Shoots and Leaves."
I watched this film (About a Boy) a few days ago expecting the usual hugh Grant bumbling.. character Ive come to loathe/expect over the years. I was thoroughly suprised. This film was great, one of the best films i have seen in a long time. The film focuses around one man who starts going to a single parents meeting to meet women, one problem He doesnt have a child.
Truss goes on to express her sadness when people who have been taught nothing about their own language spend their leisure hours trying to string sentences together for the edification of others. (And I have to add that this example from Lynne Truss is one of the better ones I've seen.)
I'll always remember when an editor of mine commented that I've done remarkably well with my proper English expression considering that I belong to what she called, "The Deprived Generation." She wasn't talking about Generations Y and Z but Generation X! People who, like me, were schooled in the 1970s and 1980s when schools were beginning to drop grammar and punctuation of the English syllabus to focus solely on literary critiquing. I can remember being taught about nouns and verbs in Year 3 (1978) but nothing after that.
I have suffered for the lack. I find myself turning to grammar guides, thesauruses, dictionaries and the internet when I'm editing work, while I'm sure many older friends and family who belong to Baby Boomers and Builders would not need to. This takes time that I wish I didn't have to use, but hey, at least I'm making the effort, unlike some younger folk from Y and Z who believe that trying to use their mother tongue correctly is corny and uncool.
It makes me very sad. We now see Baby Boomer teachers retiring leaving clueless Gen X counterparts (who don't have much idea) to teach even more clueless Gens Y, Z and Alpha (who have even less of an idea and don't want to know, thanks very much). Is this a case of the blind leading the blind? Where is it all going to end?
I want to finish with this hilarious letter which proves just what a huge difference seemingly tiny grammar changes can make.
Version 1
Dear Jack,
I want a man who knows what love is all about. You are generous, kind, thoughtful. People who are not like you admit to being useless and inferior. You have ruined me for other men. I yearn for you. I have no feelings whatsoever when we're apart. I can be forever happy-will you let me be yours?
Jill
Version 2
Dear Jack,
I want a man who knows what love is. All about you are generous, kind thoughtful people, who are not like you. Admit to being useless and inferior. You have ruined me. For other men I yearn! For you I have no feelings whatsoever. When we're apart I can be forever happy. Will you let me be?
Yours,
Jill
PS - I've been making generalizations throughout this post and apologize if I offend any individual who none of this applies to.
Recently we heard through the media that the current younger generation (and I guess they're talking about Y and Z) is the first generation since Australian settlement that is more illiterate than their parents! That's a concern but when I thought about it, I had to admit that I was not all that surprised for several reasons.
These are days of fast text talk and fashionable abbreviations. Sadly, I've seen billboards and magazine adverts with terms such as LOL and ROFL indicating that their writers assume everybody can understand them. When sentences can be shortened to C U L8R, who even needs to be literate in the 21st century? Not long ago, I made the mistake of not noticing that I was reading Face Book news feed on my daughter's profile. Assuming it was my profile, I made a few comments. Emma got really cranky and started scolding me. "Mum, can't you just LOOK! This is so embarrassing if people think it's me commenting."
As everything I'd written was quite pleasant and innocuous, I asked her why it would be such a disaster. Her answer spoke volumes. "Because you use full-stops and commas. You spell properly and put all those little wriggly things around sentences when people talk. I don't want people to think I'm a dork."
So it's become trendy and fashionable to use no grammar and punctuation! In that case, we may be up against a thicker brick wall than we ever expected. If you follow internet forums, you'll bang your head against it all the time. We have to turn a blind eye or we're called "Grammar Nazis." Lynne Truss quotes this film review example in her book, "Eats, Shoots and Leaves."
I watched this film (About a Boy) a few days ago expecting the usual hugh Grant bumbling.. character Ive come to loathe/expect over the years. I was thoroughly suprised. This film was great, one of the best films i have seen in a long time. The film focuses around one man who starts going to a single parents meeting to meet women, one problem He doesnt have a child.
Truss goes on to express her sadness when people who have been taught nothing about their own language spend their leisure hours trying to string sentences together for the edification of others. (And I have to add that this example from Lynne Truss is one of the better ones I've seen.)
I'll always remember when an editor of mine commented that I've done remarkably well with my proper English expression considering that I belong to what she called, "The Deprived Generation." She wasn't talking about Generations Y and Z but Generation X! People who, like me, were schooled in the 1970s and 1980s when schools were beginning to drop grammar and punctuation of the English syllabus to focus solely on literary critiquing. I can remember being taught about nouns and verbs in Year 3 (1978) but nothing after that.
I have suffered for the lack. I find myself turning to grammar guides, thesauruses, dictionaries and the internet when I'm editing work, while I'm sure many older friends and family who belong to Baby Boomers and Builders would not need to. This takes time that I wish I didn't have to use, but hey, at least I'm making the effort, unlike some younger folk from Y and Z who believe that trying to use their mother tongue correctly is corny and uncool.
It makes me very sad. We now see Baby Boomer teachers retiring leaving clueless Gen X counterparts (who don't have much idea) to teach even more clueless Gens Y, Z and Alpha (who have even less of an idea and don't want to know, thanks very much). Is this a case of the blind leading the blind? Where is it all going to end?
I want to finish with this hilarious letter which proves just what a huge difference seemingly tiny grammar changes can make.
Version 1
Dear Jack,
I want a man who knows what love is all about. You are generous, kind, thoughtful. People who are not like you admit to being useless and inferior. You have ruined me for other men. I yearn for you. I have no feelings whatsoever when we're apart. I can be forever happy-will you let me be yours?
Jill
Version 2
Dear Jack,
I want a man who knows what love is. All about you are generous, kind thoughtful people, who are not like you. Admit to being useless and inferior. You have ruined me. For other men I yearn! For you I have no feelings whatsoever. When we're apart I can be forever happy. Will you let me be?
Yours,
Jill
PS - I've been making generalizations throughout this post and apologize if I offend any individual who none of this applies to.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Bells and Cuckoo Clocks
I've been mulling over an idea for a new novel. It's another contemporary drama/romance because I love those the best. I always begin my musings with a range of characters who appeal to me, and then I build a plot around them until I feel it's just right. (I know there are others who do it the opposite way; that is they come up with a catchy plot and then build the characters around it, but that's the subject of another post.)
For three or four weeks I've been trying to figure it all out inside my head and two nights ago it all came together. I now have a plot and characters intact, so the writing will soon begin. Having written seven other books already, here are a few tips I've learned about the creation process. I almost let myself fall into my old bad habits but pulled myself out of the trap.
1) Making a block of time to "nut it all out" doesn't work.
I've tried that often and I'm pleased to say I've finally learned my lesson. I would grit my teeth and think, I'm going to take my notebook, park in a quiet spot without distraction and won't come back until I have it all figured out or I'm the biggest dodo of all time! But it doesn't work that way. Creative people from long ago might have said that their Muse refused to be bossed around. I think they had a point. The nature of the imagination is such that you can't pin it down and demand that it come through for you. It just starts getting nervous and won't give you anything but nonsense.
At this stage, you could easily make the mistake of giving up with the belief that you'll never be able to figure it out. Don't do that!
2) Trust that no time has been wasted.
I mull over the story concept while I'm driving, washing dishes or walking. I come up with some little ideas which I think might work. Then I put aside time to jot them into my notebook so I won't forget them, just in case I may find them useful. This alone may take a bit of time. In the past I've found myself ending the day with a sigh, saying, "This is never going to work! I've just wasted time and I'll never have those hours back again."
In actual fact, those hours are not wasted at all. It may look like nothing much has been done, but that's an illusion, my friends! Those rough jottings and daydreams are worth more than we often give them credit for. I've found so often that even ideas I've decided to scrap have been stepping stones on the way to the ones I've kept.
My mind may appear something like this. I could have it so those two boys are swept off the coast while fishing.... somewhere like the Yorke Peninsula coast, or maybe Granite Island at Victor Harbor... then I could have it that they're picked up by a fishing boat..... Naw, I don't think I'll go with the sea idea because I want the heroine to rescue them and she wouldn't have access to a boat.... How about they get lost in the bush?.... No, not dramatic enough... they have to be really helpless and it needs to be clear that they are at the end of their own resources.... a hole in the ground.... yeah, I think that might work. An old mine shaft that nobody had discovered before!
Just for your interest, the result of all that musing above was "A Design of Gold." And don't get fooled into thinking it was easy by the few moments it might have taken to read that paragraph; it took hours, days and weeks to figure it all out.
3) When it all comes together, you may recognize it as a chime of triumph in your spirit.
Believe me, I know what I'm talking about. I think the human spirit is wired so that you know instinctively when you've got it right! Getting my plots and characters all sorted out reminds me of trying to remember something I've temporarily forgotten.
For example, can you relate to trying to recall somebody's name and you're mulling different possibilities around in your head. I think it's John, no it's Jonathan, no, that's not it either, it's Jay... James... Jordan.... (At this point the bell chimes loudly) Yes, Jordan! That's it!
It's similar when I'm trying to figure out a plot for my new stories. When they are not quite right yet, it seems as if my brain doesn't quite recognize them. Then when I finally strike the right one, that bell chimes! Or imagine the ornate hand of a beautiful old cuckoo clock doing it's final stroke up to the twelve, and the bird pops out and sings. It's a great feeling and one of my favourite aspects of the early stage of writing. "I've got this excellent story and it's going to work. At the moment it's enclosed completely within my own head but one day others are going to read it too, love the characters, share the suspense and share just what I'm feeling now! Who knows where the impact may end!"
Writing a novel is not an easy thing but so worth it.
For three or four weeks I've been trying to figure it all out inside my head and two nights ago it all came together. I now have a plot and characters intact, so the writing will soon begin. Having written seven other books already, here are a few tips I've learned about the creation process. I almost let myself fall into my old bad habits but pulled myself out of the trap.
1) Making a block of time to "nut it all out" doesn't work.
I've tried that often and I'm pleased to say I've finally learned my lesson. I would grit my teeth and think, I'm going to take my notebook, park in a quiet spot without distraction and won't come back until I have it all figured out or I'm the biggest dodo of all time! But it doesn't work that way. Creative people from long ago might have said that their Muse refused to be bossed around. I think they had a point. The nature of the imagination is such that you can't pin it down and demand that it come through for you. It just starts getting nervous and won't give you anything but nonsense.
At this stage, you could easily make the mistake of giving up with the belief that you'll never be able to figure it out. Don't do that!
2) Trust that no time has been wasted.
I mull over the story concept while I'm driving, washing dishes or walking. I come up with some little ideas which I think might work. Then I put aside time to jot them into my notebook so I won't forget them, just in case I may find them useful. This alone may take a bit of time. In the past I've found myself ending the day with a sigh, saying, "This is never going to work! I've just wasted time and I'll never have those hours back again."
In actual fact, those hours are not wasted at all. It may look like nothing much has been done, but that's an illusion, my friends! Those rough jottings and daydreams are worth more than we often give them credit for. I've found so often that even ideas I've decided to scrap have been stepping stones on the way to the ones I've kept.
My mind may appear something like this. I could have it so those two boys are swept off the coast while fishing.... somewhere like the Yorke Peninsula coast, or maybe Granite Island at Victor Harbor... then I could have it that they're picked up by a fishing boat..... Naw, I don't think I'll go with the sea idea because I want the heroine to rescue them and she wouldn't have access to a boat.... How about they get lost in the bush?.... No, not dramatic enough... they have to be really helpless and it needs to be clear that they are at the end of their own resources.... a hole in the ground.... yeah, I think that might work. An old mine shaft that nobody had discovered before!
Just for your interest, the result of all that musing above was "A Design of Gold." And don't get fooled into thinking it was easy by the few moments it might have taken to read that paragraph; it took hours, days and weeks to figure it all out.
3) When it all comes together, you may recognize it as a chime of triumph in your spirit.
Believe me, I know what I'm talking about. I think the human spirit is wired so that you know instinctively when you've got it right! Getting my plots and characters all sorted out reminds me of trying to remember something I've temporarily forgotten.
For example, can you relate to trying to recall somebody's name and you're mulling different possibilities around in your head. I think it's John, no it's Jonathan, no, that's not it either, it's Jay... James... Jordan.... (At this point the bell chimes loudly) Yes, Jordan! That's it!
It's similar when I'm trying to figure out a plot for my new stories. When they are not quite right yet, it seems as if my brain doesn't quite recognize them. Then when I finally strike the right one, that bell chimes! Or imagine the ornate hand of a beautiful old cuckoo clock doing it's final stroke up to the twelve, and the bird pops out and sings. It's a great feeling and one of my favourite aspects of the early stage of writing. "I've got this excellent story and it's going to work. At the moment it's enclosed completely within my own head but one day others are going to read it too, love the characters, share the suspense and share just what I'm feeling now! Who knows where the impact may end!"
Writing a novel is not an easy thing but so worth it.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Me and Jane Austen
I watched a late airing of Jane Austen's "Emma" last night. It was a fairly recent movie I'd never seen before with Kate Beckinsale as Emma instead of Gwyneth Paltrow, who I felt was all wrong when I saw her years ago. Anybody who has read the book would know that Emma Woodhouse was clearly a brunette and NOT blonde! Last night's movie impressed me as one that I was sure JA would probably approve of. Apart from Mr Knightley being a bit of a smarty-pants who was always right, "Emma" was one of my favourite books.
Now, this may surprise some people, but whenever I'm asked which famous author I'd most relate to, I can't help coming up with Jane Austen. Some friends of mine write historical fiction set far closer to Jane's time period and you might think they would have more in common with her. But no, it's me! For the rest of this blog post, I'll explain why.
Essentially, she used to write contemporary drama/romances set in her own little corner of the world. That's what I do too, although my corner of the world happens to be the Adelaide Hills in the early 21st century. Years ago, I read some advice that Jane herself gave other aspiring writers. She said something like, "Choose what you know, and for me, a small town with a handful of characters is the perfect thing to work with." I took her advice on board. Rather than tackling piles of research, I'm confident that if I set my stories around modern Mt Barker, the sounds, sights, smells and tastes of the area will come through with authentic freshness because I know just what I'm talking about.
As for Jane Austen, if she'd been at all interested in being a historical novelist, she might have set her books back in the Middle Ages, as some of her contemporaries used to. She even alluded to some of those authors in her novel, "Northanger Abbey." They were the ladies whose books her heroine Catherine used to avidly read. It's all quite interesting to me.
Jane loved to fill her novels with twists in plots; so do I. She loved working with witty, often quirky, entertaining dialogue. So do I. She liked her books to end with uplifting, positive happenings. So do I. As I watched "Emma" last night, I thought what a priceless gift Jane Austen has given us. We have an authentic slice of what it might have been like to live in the gracious, but often snobbishly class-conscious Georgian era. This might have been lost to us if she never wrote. Thank heavens she did. And hopefully, someday people may say similar things about me.
Jane Austen died aged 42. It's generally believed that she had Addison's Disease, which can now be controlled well with cortisone injections. What a waste, because she had so much more to give! In fact, she left an uncompleted manuscript behind her. We could have been blessed with so many more books than the six she left us with. There's another thing we have in common. I've just turned 41 and also have six books published, the seventh coming out this year. But when I think of how Jane used a quill pen and ink bottle for all of her revisions instead of having a trusty computer for all her editing needs, I can't help feeling a sense of awe.
Here's a picture I really like, as it highlights the analogy of me being like JA, showing her with all my modern trappings. Wouldn't she have loved it? I'd like to be able to say, "Thank you, Jane, for being one of my mentors. All writers need a role model and you've been a very good one."
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Paula's Theory of Relativity
When we sit back and think how relative just about everything is, it is the one thing that makes us tend not to form quick judgments about anything at all.
I have a book by Peter Daniels, who's old enough to clearly remember the days when "Beatle Mania" first struck the world; days when many of us were not even born yet. He describes how he saw the four young men on his television screen on that day in the 1960s and instantly thought how sloppily they wore their clothes, how rebellious and appalling their presentation seemed to be and how badly they needed haircuts. They were scruffy, uncouth and loud.
Fast forward a couple of decades to when this book was published. Daniels was watching a TV program with a sudden flashback, which he recognized as that very same clip he saw before. But this time, his initial impression was how clean-cut the four young men were and compared to what regularly bombarded his ears from all media forms, their music seemed reserved and almost classical.
His story made me realise that we do the same to ourselves too, all the time. Reminded me of a photo that was taken of me when I was about 17 or 18 years old. At that time, I'd been going through some sort of phase when I liked to dress up in old vintage sort of clothes that looked like they came from the 1920s or 1930s. I think I wanted to appear interesting and eccentric. In this particular photo I was wearing some sort of weird sailor suit and looked like a character from an Agatha Christie mystery. I'd been going through my anorexic stage too, and looked as skinny as a stick. At the time I thought it came across OK and was quite happy with the photo.
About five to seven years later, I looked at that same photo with disgust, my initial response being how stupid I looked and how mad I was at my family and friends for letting me make such a fool of myself in public. I slammed the album shut telling myself, "You were a real wally!" Then I found it again quite recently, about twenty years after it was taken, and this time I smiled with a bit of nostalgic affection for my old self, thinking how insecure I used to be and how hard I used to try to make a statement. I realised I probably just needed a smile and some encouraging feedback that I really was OK, and if I'd been around then, I would have given myself some.
So now the experience has made me think that as our opinions change all the time anyway, we might as well be generous in our attitudes toward ourselves and others at all times. By the same token, if you find yourself being harshly summed up by other people, remind yourself not to take it on board and get depressed because everyone's opinion is only relative. You have the option to never take mean, negative feedback as accurate!
Blessings everyone,
Paula
I have a book by Peter Daniels, who's old enough to clearly remember the days when "Beatle Mania" first struck the world; days when many of us were not even born yet. He describes how he saw the four young men on his television screen on that day in the 1960s and instantly thought how sloppily they wore their clothes, how rebellious and appalling their presentation seemed to be and how badly they needed haircuts. They were scruffy, uncouth and loud.
Fast forward a couple of decades to when this book was published. Daniels was watching a TV program with a sudden flashback, which he recognized as that very same clip he saw before. But this time, his initial impression was how clean-cut the four young men were and compared to what regularly bombarded his ears from all media forms, their music seemed reserved and almost classical.
His story made me realise that we do the same to ourselves too, all the time. Reminded me of a photo that was taken of me when I was about 17 or 18 years old. At that time, I'd been going through some sort of phase when I liked to dress up in old vintage sort of clothes that looked like they came from the 1920s or 1930s. I think I wanted to appear interesting and eccentric. In this particular photo I was wearing some sort of weird sailor suit and looked like a character from an Agatha Christie mystery. I'd been going through my anorexic stage too, and looked as skinny as a stick. At the time I thought it came across OK and was quite happy with the photo.
About five to seven years later, I looked at that same photo with disgust, my initial response being how stupid I looked and how mad I was at my family and friends for letting me make such a fool of myself in public. I slammed the album shut telling myself, "You were a real wally!" Then I found it again quite recently, about twenty years after it was taken, and this time I smiled with a bit of nostalgic affection for my old self, thinking how insecure I used to be and how hard I used to try to make a statement. I realised I probably just needed a smile and some encouraging feedback that I really was OK, and if I'd been around then, I would have given myself some.
So now the experience has made me think that as our opinions change all the time anyway, we might as well be generous in our attitudes toward ourselves and others at all times. By the same token, if you find yourself being harshly summed up by other people, remind yourself not to take it on board and get depressed because everyone's opinion is only relative. You have the option to never take mean, negative feedback as accurate!
Blessings everyone,
Paula
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Paula's Incredible Time Machine
Here is one of the most effective tools I've come across for dealing with bouts of discouragement and depression easily and thoroughly. It is completely free because this amazing machine operates within your own head. Here's how it works. When circumstances get you down, all you have to do is remind yourself, "Oh, I've got the incredible time machine." Then you choose to either zoom it back into the past, ahead into the future or a combination of the two.
I'll take my current discouragement issue to take as an example. I've been plugging away trying to write and sell my books for over ten years and feel as if I've been pushing a mountain all that time. I sometimes manage to move that mountain a few inches but if I stop to rub my throbbing head, it promptly slides back to just where it was. Well, that's how it seems anyhow. I know that discouragement can distort actual facts. When I'm tired and stressed, it's easy to sink into the rut of self-pity. Now that I know the Time Machine helps me out of this rut, here's what I do.
1) Whiz back into the past as many years as I want to go.
I zoom back to the year 1987, when I was totally stressed with my Year 12 load and convinced that I would crack under the strain. I was thinking, "I'll never get an offer to any university because my grades will be too lame." (RESULT: I actually did pass all the subjects fairly well and even achieved the highest score possible for English and I did get an offer to Adelaide University in the first round of offers)
Next I whiz back to those years of study when all my friends were pairing up, I was still single and depressed because I never thought I'd meet the right person, because all the nicest fellows were already taken etc etc. (RESULT: When I'd just turned 21, my brother-in-law introduced me to somebody who worked with him, and that turned out to be Andrew, who I've now been happily (mostly) married to for eighteen years)
Then I visit the year 1993, when I was having repeated early miscarriages and convinced myself that there was no way I'd possibly be able to start a family, because for some unknown reason, I just couldn't stay pregnant. (RESULT: I now have three fun, intelligent kids who are aged between fifteen and six)
There are other examples I could choose but you get the idea. When I revisit the past, I see that the results would have been just the same without putting myself through all the stress of the worry and depression, which turned out to be totally wasted and useless. Then I remind myself, "Hey, there seems to be a pattern here. One day I'll look back and kick myself for all the years of misery and depression I'm putting myself through now. So I'm going to stop. I don't see the full picture. Instead of being depressed, I'm going to simply keep on doing the small things that are put before me each day and stay optimistic because I have no idea of the great things the future may hold."
Then the thought of the future reminds me to use the Incredible Time Machine in the opposite direction.
2) Whiz forward five, ten, fifteen or more years. Then simply remember to ask myself, "Will this really matter then?"
My son, Logan, may be stressing us all out because he has a long-overdue assignment due, needs my help and neither of us can easily understand the text book. Or my son Blake may still be whining and struggling with a reading concept that I feel I've been over and over again with him. Instead of stressing and groaning, I can remember to whiz us forward and realise, "Hey, this issue will be long behind us in 5 years."
Or I may have tried to hold a Light the Dark party showcasing all the excellent Aussie books and products for Christmas shopping, got a whole lot of good food in, made a beautiful looking spread beneath the flashing Christmas tree and then nobody showed up. (Yes, this one isn't hypothetical. It actually happened last night. It is one of the weekly events (or non-events) that has pulled me into my rut) OK, so I take a deep breath, square up my shoulders, grin at my family and say, "Hey, ten years from now, this night will be well behind me. In fact just weeks from now, this night will be well behind me because I'm not going to stop persevering."
So if you get how the Incredible Time Machine works, I'm inviting you to use it too, because this is a blog that's designed to encourage. I believe that simple techniques are often the most effective. When we acknowledge our own lapses into depression, they may prove encouraging to others and therefore not wasted. So use this tool, fly backward and forward through your past and future, remind yourself that as change is definite, you might as well shake off your despondency and get on with the jobs you have before you.
Blessings,
Paula
I'll take my current discouragement issue to take as an example. I've been plugging away trying to write and sell my books for over ten years and feel as if I've been pushing a mountain all that time. I sometimes manage to move that mountain a few inches but if I stop to rub my throbbing head, it promptly slides back to just where it was. Well, that's how it seems anyhow. I know that discouragement can distort actual facts. When I'm tired and stressed, it's easy to sink into the rut of self-pity. Now that I know the Time Machine helps me out of this rut, here's what I do.
1) Whiz back into the past as many years as I want to go.
I zoom back to the year 1987, when I was totally stressed with my Year 12 load and convinced that I would crack under the strain. I was thinking, "I'll never get an offer to any university because my grades will be too lame." (RESULT: I actually did pass all the subjects fairly well and even achieved the highest score possible for English and I did get an offer to Adelaide University in the first round of offers)
Next I whiz back to those years of study when all my friends were pairing up, I was still single and depressed because I never thought I'd meet the right person, because all the nicest fellows were already taken etc etc. (RESULT: When I'd just turned 21, my brother-in-law introduced me to somebody who worked with him, and that turned out to be Andrew, who I've now been happily (mostly) married to for eighteen years)
Then I visit the year 1993, when I was having repeated early miscarriages and convinced myself that there was no way I'd possibly be able to start a family, because for some unknown reason, I just couldn't stay pregnant. (RESULT: I now have three fun, intelligent kids who are aged between fifteen and six)
There are other examples I could choose but you get the idea. When I revisit the past, I see that the results would have been just the same without putting myself through all the stress of the worry and depression, which turned out to be totally wasted and useless. Then I remind myself, "Hey, there seems to be a pattern here. One day I'll look back and kick myself for all the years of misery and depression I'm putting myself through now. So I'm going to stop. I don't see the full picture. Instead of being depressed, I'm going to simply keep on doing the small things that are put before me each day and stay optimistic because I have no idea of the great things the future may hold."
Then the thought of the future reminds me to use the Incredible Time Machine in the opposite direction.
2) Whiz forward five, ten, fifteen or more years. Then simply remember to ask myself, "Will this really matter then?"
My son, Logan, may be stressing us all out because he has a long-overdue assignment due, needs my help and neither of us can easily understand the text book. Or my son Blake may still be whining and struggling with a reading concept that I feel I've been over and over again with him. Instead of stressing and groaning, I can remember to whiz us forward and realise, "Hey, this issue will be long behind us in 5 years."
Or I may have tried to hold a Light the Dark party showcasing all the excellent Aussie books and products for Christmas shopping, got a whole lot of good food in, made a beautiful looking spread beneath the flashing Christmas tree and then nobody showed up. (Yes, this one isn't hypothetical. It actually happened last night. It is one of the weekly events (or non-events) that has pulled me into my rut) OK, so I take a deep breath, square up my shoulders, grin at my family and say, "Hey, ten years from now, this night will be well behind me. In fact just weeks from now, this night will be well behind me because I'm not going to stop persevering."
So if you get how the Incredible Time Machine works, I'm inviting you to use it too, because this is a blog that's designed to encourage. I believe that simple techniques are often the most effective. When we acknowledge our own lapses into depression, they may prove encouraging to others and therefore not wasted. So use this tool, fly backward and forward through your past and future, remind yourself that as change is definite, you might as well shake off your despondency and get on with the jobs you have before you.
Blessings,
Paula
Thursday, October 21, 2010
The Commonsense Beatitudes
Blessed are those who can laugh at themselves; they will always have entertainment.
Blessed are those who can distinguish between a mountain and a molehill; they will save themselves a lot of trouble.
Blessed are those who can rest and sleep without looking for excuses; they will become wise.
Blessed are those who know how to be silent and listen; they will learn new things.
Blessed are those who are intelligent enough not to take themselves too seriously; they will be appreciated.
Blessed are you if you can look seriously at small things and peacefully at serious things; you will go far in life.
Blessed are you if you can admire a smile and forget a scowl; your path will be sunlit.
Blessed are you if you can interpret the attitudes of others with good will, even when appearances are to the contrary; you may seem naive but that is the price of charity.
Blessed are those who think before acting and who laugh before thinking; they will avoid foolish mistakes.
Blessed are you if you know how to be silent and smile even when you are interrupted, contradicted or walked on; the gospel is beginning to take root in your heart.
Blessed are you especially if you know how to recognise the Lord in all those you meet; you have found the true light, true wisdom.
Fr. Joseph Folliet
Blessed are those who can distinguish between a mountain and a molehill; they will save themselves a lot of trouble.
Blessed are those who can rest and sleep without looking for excuses; they will become wise.
Blessed are those who know how to be silent and listen; they will learn new things.
Blessed are those who are intelligent enough not to take themselves too seriously; they will be appreciated.
Blessed are you if you can look seriously at small things and peacefully at serious things; you will go far in life.
Blessed are you if you can admire a smile and forget a scowl; your path will be sunlit.
Blessed are you if you can interpret the attitudes of others with good will, even when appearances are to the contrary; you may seem naive but that is the price of charity.
Blessed are those who think before acting and who laugh before thinking; they will avoid foolish mistakes.
Blessed are you if you know how to be silent and smile even when you are interrupted, contradicted or walked on; the gospel is beginning to take root in your heart.
Blessed are you especially if you know how to recognise the Lord in all those you meet; you have found the true light, true wisdom.
Fr. Joseph Folliet
Friday, October 15, 2010
The Talking Chicken
OK, where am I going with this title? I'm like the talking chicken. It's all to do with something I don't consider is my greatest strength and that is self-promotion. After having six books published, you'd think I'd be less awkward about getting out there and selling them, but the truth is that my old habits have been very hard to squash. They spring up even now.
One day at High School, some of my friends were going about whispering that I was a show-off. I still get the same sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach when I think about it, and remember the decision I made to never, ever put myself in the position of being accused of that again. On top of that, the Bible tells us to wait for others promote us, doesn't it? Jesus Himself told the parable of the banquet guest who was asked to step down from the place of honour. Like many of us, I took it all on board and decided to be a model of humility and modesty. But the extent of this attitude has definitely got in the way of selling my books, which was not what I intended at all. I came across a little story that helped.
A man heard about a rare talking chicken that could speak five languages. He set out on a world-wide search to find it. After an exhausting search, he discovered one in a pet shop at a bazaar and asked the owner to post it to his home address. When he arrived home in two days, he asked his wife if the bird had arrived and she said, "Yes."
"Where is it?"
"In the oven."
"Arrrgh, that was a one-of-a-kind bird that could talk five languages!"
And his wife replied, "Well, why didn't he speak up?"
So I realised that I've been behaving just like this poor bird. When Jesus said to wait for others to promote us, I think his point was that we need to remember that all the good things He's given us come from Him. I'm sure He didn't mean for us to clam up and never mention the skills and talents God has given us, especially when He's given us them to benefit others. I asked myself if I believe my books have the potential to give people a lot of joy and enrich their lives. The answer is yes!
So folks, my books are really enjoyable, intriguing and good and if you haven't read them and enjoy a compelling story, please give them a go. Whew, I can tell you, it was difficult for me to type that sentence. All my instincts cried up against stating it outright like that, but if I can do it on this blog, I'll hopefully begin to learn to do it elsewhere too.
And if anybody reading this is another talking chicken, I hope this will help you too. If you have any similar stories, please let me know :)
One day at High School, some of my friends were going about whispering that I was a show-off. I still get the same sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach when I think about it, and remember the decision I made to never, ever put myself in the position of being accused of that again. On top of that, the Bible tells us to wait for others promote us, doesn't it? Jesus Himself told the parable of the banquet guest who was asked to step down from the place of honour. Like many of us, I took it all on board and decided to be a model of humility and modesty. But the extent of this attitude has definitely got in the way of selling my books, which was not what I intended at all. I came across a little story that helped.
A man heard about a rare talking chicken that could speak five languages. He set out on a world-wide search to find it. After an exhausting search, he discovered one in a pet shop at a bazaar and asked the owner to post it to his home address. When he arrived home in two days, he asked his wife if the bird had arrived and she said, "Yes."
"Where is it?"
"In the oven."
"Arrrgh, that was a one-of-a-kind bird that could talk five languages!"
And his wife replied, "Well, why didn't he speak up?"
So I realised that I've been behaving just like this poor bird. When Jesus said to wait for others to promote us, I think his point was that we need to remember that all the good things He's given us come from Him. I'm sure He didn't mean for us to clam up and never mention the skills and talents God has given us, especially when He's given us them to benefit others. I asked myself if I believe my books have the potential to give people a lot of joy and enrich their lives. The answer is yes!
So folks, my books are really enjoyable, intriguing and good and if you haven't read them and enjoy a compelling story, please give them a go. Whew, I can tell you, it was difficult for me to type that sentence. All my instincts cried up against stating it outright like that, but if I can do it on this blog, I'll hopefully begin to learn to do it elsewhere too.
And if anybody reading this is another talking chicken, I hope this will help you too. If you have any similar stories, please let me know :)
Monday, October 11, 2010
The Ice Sculpture
Here's a good reflection. Living your life is a bit like melting an ice sculpture that has been frozen to minus 50 degrees C. You start heating it up and for some time, nothing seems to be happening. There is lots of heat energy going into it with no visible results. But suddenly when the temperature gets to zero it begins to melt and you have water.
In the same way, you can put a saucepan of that water over a flame to boil but it appears that nothing is happening until around 100 degrees C. Then you begin to see a few bubbles, a bit of steam, and eventually it rolls up to a good, steady boil.
The principle here is that we can pour a lot of energy into anything (for me it's writing novels and homeschooling my family) and day by day it seems that nothing is happening. I've had moments of discouragement and been tempted to quit, wondering what is the use of plowing on for no results. Perhaps I'm just a victim of living life in the fast-paced 21st century, when we are conditioned to think our gratification should be instant. Yet the fact is that when we pour honest effort and energy into something meaningful, it's bound to bloom into something beautiful that is obvious to everyone as the fruits of our labour, as long as we stay faithful and don't quit!
In the same way, you can put a saucepan of that water over a flame to boil but it appears that nothing is happening until around 100 degrees C. Then you begin to see a few bubbles, a bit of steam, and eventually it rolls up to a good, steady boil.
The principle here is that we can pour a lot of energy into anything (for me it's writing novels and homeschooling my family) and day by day it seems that nothing is happening. I've had moments of discouragement and been tempted to quit, wondering what is the use of plowing on for no results. Perhaps I'm just a victim of living life in the fast-paced 21st century, when we are conditioned to think our gratification should be instant. Yet the fact is that when we pour honest effort and energy into something meaningful, it's bound to bloom into something beautiful that is obvious to everyone as the fruits of our labour, as long as we stay faithful and don't quit!
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Stories to combat writer's discouragement
I was having some gloomy moments last week and couldn't figure out why, until I put two and two together. I've recently had two great things happen. 1) "Picking up the Pieces", the first novel I ever had published back in 2000, has been re-published! A good number of them arrived on my doorstep last week. 2) After working on it for over a year, my newest manuscript is out of my hands and with my editor. Now, you'd think those are both things that would make me cheer, "Hooray!" But when good things happen and I have time to stand back and take a deep breath, I find myself getting anxious and flat. All the "what ifs?" begin to surge through my head. "What if people don't really care? What if I can't sell them as quickly as I anticipated? What if all the hard work I've done amounts to nothing much?" I guess we all have these feelings sometimes. I've collected a few stories about other hardworking writers and scribes to help me combat them.
A lesson from Baruch
One of the lesser known people in the Bible, he was Jeremiah's secretary. Baruch took Jeremiah's dictation of the Lord's Words and then went and read them out to the people while Jeremiah was shut up and restrained. Eventually Baruch was asked to come before the princes in the royal household and read them out loud. I guess many of us remember how King Jehoiakim cut them up and threw them with contempt into the fire. Baruch had to run into hiding with Jeremiah and take the dictation again.
In the short chapter 45 of Jeremiah, although this is not stated in words, it appear that Baruch let himself grow discouraged because of the lack of public acclaim he and Jeremiah were earning. I can easily imagine that Baruch, swept away by the magnitude of what he was scribing, hoped to make a name for himself and even become a national hero. He'd staked his life and reputation for the sake of recording Jeremiah's prophecies for posterity. Surely he felt that God would decide to reward them in their here and now. When that didn't happen, Baruch must have sunk into depression, and Jeremiah received a prophecy especially for him. This is how it went. God's response was, "Should you seek great things for yourself - seek them not for I bring evil upon all flesh but leave you your life as a booty and snatched prize of war." It was probably not the response from God that Baruch longed to hear but there we have it. It seems to apply to me too at times. The rebuke seems to be not to value the response of men to your work so highly, because we're doing it for the love of God and others, and when our motivation is to earn accolades for ourselves, we have to be careful (ouch!)
The medieval writer of "Sir Gawain"
I refer to an article in the recent edition of the Omega Writer's "Zaphon" on-line magazine, written by Anne Hamilton. She drew my attention to this anonymous man who poured hours into writing his brilliant work in English. Just as he finished, it became unpublishable. A proclamation went out from the church restricting theological writing to Latin. Perhaps he sank into despair and thought, "How can God let this happen when He gave me the inspiration in the first place?" However, over 500 years later, the only surviving copy of his work influenced thousands of people. Twentieth century's two great professors JRR Tolkien and CS Lewis both fell in love with it and drew heavily on his writing for their own amazing series which we know and love so well.
The irony is, how could either of these two men possibly have known that their relatively obscure efforts would be incorporated into something timeless? And by the same token, how can we possibly know all the ways God will use the gift of writing He's given us without our knowledge? We know what we need to be doing! The amount of recognition we receive for it is inconsequential to God and should also be to us, as we have faith that He hasn't forgotten us and knows where He wants to take our work!
I feel better now myself.
A lesson from Baruch
One of the lesser known people in the Bible, he was Jeremiah's secretary. Baruch took Jeremiah's dictation of the Lord's Words and then went and read them out to the people while Jeremiah was shut up and restrained. Eventually Baruch was asked to come before the princes in the royal household and read them out loud. I guess many of us remember how King Jehoiakim cut them up and threw them with contempt into the fire. Baruch had to run into hiding with Jeremiah and take the dictation again.
In the short chapter 45 of Jeremiah, although this is not stated in words, it appear that Baruch let himself grow discouraged because of the lack of public acclaim he and Jeremiah were earning. I can easily imagine that Baruch, swept away by the magnitude of what he was scribing, hoped to make a name for himself and even become a national hero. He'd staked his life and reputation for the sake of recording Jeremiah's prophecies for posterity. Surely he felt that God would decide to reward them in their here and now. When that didn't happen, Baruch must have sunk into depression, and Jeremiah received a prophecy especially for him. This is how it went. God's response was, "Should you seek great things for yourself - seek them not for I bring evil upon all flesh but leave you your life as a booty and snatched prize of war." It was probably not the response from God that Baruch longed to hear but there we have it. It seems to apply to me too at times. The rebuke seems to be not to value the response of men to your work so highly, because we're doing it for the love of God and others, and when our motivation is to earn accolades for ourselves, we have to be careful (ouch!)
The medieval writer of "Sir Gawain"
I refer to an article in the recent edition of the Omega Writer's "Zaphon" on-line magazine, written by Anne Hamilton. She drew my attention to this anonymous man who poured hours into writing his brilliant work in English. Just as he finished, it became unpublishable. A proclamation went out from the church restricting theological writing to Latin. Perhaps he sank into despair and thought, "How can God let this happen when He gave me the inspiration in the first place?" However, over 500 years later, the only surviving copy of his work influenced thousands of people. Twentieth century's two great professors JRR Tolkien and CS Lewis both fell in love with it and drew heavily on his writing for their own amazing series which we know and love so well.
The irony is, how could either of these two men possibly have known that their relatively obscure efforts would be incorporated into something timeless? And by the same token, how can we possibly know all the ways God will use the gift of writing He's given us without our knowledge? We know what we need to be doing! The amount of recognition we receive for it is inconsequential to God and should also be to us, as we have faith that He hasn't forgotten us and knows where He wants to take our work!
I feel better now myself.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Catch up at last
It's been a long, long since I've updated here.
The fact is I decided to take a break from internet for a few months. Early in the year I had a chronic health problem which wouldn't go away, (but now it has, hooray!!), and a worrying financial problem which was a real hassle, (but now it's been sorted out, thank goodness). It was a really, really horrible time actually, so now that these two things are over I'm happier than ever with my old lifestyle. Yet after taking such a long holiday from the internet, I started wondering what I was going to do about blogging. Would I just start off where I left off? Not to mention I feel ashamed of not catching up with good friends on their blogs.
Anyway, while this was all going on, my family started to get more of a fascination with Facebook. They began to convince me that many more untapped "fans" might be reachable through setting up a fan page, so over the last few days that's what I've done. So for now, I've decided to put this particular blog on hold for an experiment, but I'm keep up my thoughts and impressions through my fan page on Facebook. I'd rather just have one thing happening than two.
So I'm going to begin visiting blogs again and leaving comments, as I'd love to know how you're all going. And I'd like to invite anybody who liked to keep up with this blog to visit my Facebook fan page and share your thoughts with me. I'd really love that.
The fact is I decided to take a break from internet for a few months. Early in the year I had a chronic health problem which wouldn't go away, (but now it has, hooray!!), and a worrying financial problem which was a real hassle, (but now it's been sorted out, thank goodness). It was a really, really horrible time actually, so now that these two things are over I'm happier than ever with my old lifestyle. Yet after taking such a long holiday from the internet, I started wondering what I was going to do about blogging. Would I just start off where I left off? Not to mention I feel ashamed of not catching up with good friends on their blogs.
Anyway, while this was all going on, my family started to get more of a fascination with Facebook. They began to convince me that many more untapped "fans" might be reachable through setting up a fan page, so over the last few days that's what I've done. So for now, I've decided to put this particular blog on hold for an experiment, but I'm keep up my thoughts and impressions through my fan page on Facebook. I'd rather just have one thing happening than two.
So I'm going to begin visiting blogs again and leaving comments, as I'd love to know how you're all going. And I'd like to invite anybody who liked to keep up with this blog to visit my Facebook fan page and share your thoughts with me. I'd really love that.
Monday, January 4, 2010
My newsletter for December 2009
New Year, New Decade
On Christmas Eve I had one of those milestone birthdays with a zero at the end of it. OK, it's the one between 30 and 50. It's handy in a way, when you spin over another decade just as the calendar spins over another decade. I've been told my due date was actually January 2nd, 1970 and wish I'd gone the distance, because Christmas Eve isn't a good time to try to fit a birthday into. I'm usually too busy along with everyone else. But there you go! And this year, I took the time to reflect because I don't want to go into my forties without some nostalgia.
First, I can see that it's an illusion that you're old or even middle aged when you reach it. In my heart of hearts I feel just the same as I did in my teens and early twenties. But back then, 40 did carry a middle-aged stigma. I wouldn't have wanted to write about them then, because I would have thought I had no idea how they think and feel. Now I know that they think and feel not much different as before. Now I'm not afraid to try to write convincingly about the elderly, because although I haven't got there yet, I'm willing to guess that it'll probably be the same.
40 years is a big chunk of time. The Israelites were wandering around in the Sinai Desert during a slab of time the duration of my life span. No wonder they thought God was slow to move. If I'd been a new-born baby during the Exodus from Egypt, it would have been the only life I'd ever known. Although 40 years is a snap in the grand scheme of things, it's definitely long enough for a person to become set in their ways.
I've seen extremes in my life. I've been chubby and I've been too skinny. I've been afraid that I could never have a baby or carry a pregnancy full term but I've also been surprised by a completely unexpected pregnancy. I can stand back and see that I've wasted a lot of energy fearing or worrying about things which never happened. I'll never have that emotional energy back again but at least I can launch into this season of my life with my eyes open.
New Year's Resolution
This is similar to all the advice you've probably heard to keep a Gratitude Journal, yet it's slightly different. I was thinking how I'd tend to get hurt feelings or sad if people overlook my efforts. Feeling unappreciated or unnoticed is not pleasant. On the other hand, when people do give us unexpected encouraging feedback, it gives us an instant lift. As God created us in His own image, He would surely feel the same. I found myself standing back and wondering how often I took the time to actually notice His efforts. He's made a fantastically beautiful world, and it's so easy to breeze along taking it for granted or not even noticing.
I've often been striving to make my own mark in the world and impress people. I'm tired of that attitude now. I want to begin to notice the beauty and say a sincere "Thank You Lord," for no other reason than warming His heart because somebody is acknowledging Him. Living in the Adelaide Hills is enough to give me a head start but beautiful things are everywhere. Babies and children, smiles on the faces of friendly people, images written in books. Yesterday I went for a walk in the Mt Barker wetlands near my home and started my new habit. I saw a great pelican sticking his neck under the water, tilting back his head and having a huge drink. He sort of shook it down his neck. And I sat still and watched a tiny wren flit into a bush and trill a little song that sounded like clear bells. What a huge difference there is between the pelican and the wren, yet they are both birds! I said, "Wow God, thank you for your magnificent variety." And at home, I wrote it into my journal and I felt good too. I think noticing the beauty is a habit I'll definitely keep up.
What I've been reading
In the week before Christmas I bought "The Book of Tomorrow" by Cecelia Ahern. She's only young and already a bestselling author, who wrote "PS, I Love You" which was made into a movie. I picked up her most recent book because the title drew me, and then the blurb on the back convinced me! I'll write it down, to show the impact a great blurb makes.
Tamara Goodwin has always lived in the here and now, never giving a second thought to tomorrow. Until a travelling library arrives in her tiny village bringing with it a mysterious, large leather-bound book locked with a gold clasp and padlock. What she discovers within the pages takes her breath away and shakes her world to its core. A mesmerising story about how tomorrow can change what happens today.
There you have it. An intriguing blurb needs to be paired up with an eye-catching cover to say, "Buy me!" My opinion of the book itself is that it was pretty good. I was interested enough to stay up late at the end of Christmas Day to finish it off, although the cheeky heroine had a mouth on her that I found a bit wearing on my nerves. It left me more enthusiastic to keep on with my own fiction for the Christian market because Christian readers deserve similar exciting and intriguing novels without having to wade through all the swearing and casual sex. And I have to add that this book is pretty mild compared to some I've read, including those which have been on the University English syllabus reading list.
Anyway, it's encouraging in a way to notice that the occasional bit of average writing can slip past the editors even in a best-seller like this. I found the following sentence:- "She had become grey in the face and lost all her colour." Now I've been assessing and tearing up my own work long enough to know that one of these two descriptive phrases should have been deleted. This sort of thing is a tautology. It's saying the same thing twice in different ways. Alison, my old editor who worked on my Quenarden books with me, used to refer to them as "wet water" and sometimes she'd jot "WW" in the margin of my manuscript with an arrow pointing to the tautology. When even bestselling books miss a few basic mistakes like this from time to time, it makes me think we can be easy on ourselves. We're all human!
Writers talking about other writers
Long ago I read some scathing comments that Louisa May Alcott wrote about Mark Twain, calling him vulgar and full of himself. She said that nobody should ever deign to read crass rubbish like his. Of course it was written in her polite, lady-like sort of way but I don't have her actual words in front of me. Anyway, a few days ago I came across a book which quoted Mark Twain himself slamming Jane Austen. He thought she was trite, affected and wrote books in which nothing meaty and interesting happened whatsoever. On his way home to America after his English tour, he complained that there was nothing better than her books in the ship's library. This proves that writers have always taken digs at each other. But it also proves that we should take lightly what other people say, no matter how great their credentials seem to be. All three of these authors are still enjoyed as classic geniuses with not just books but many quotes to their credit. People just have different tastes, that's all.
It also proves that there'll always be books you come across that you don't like much. You might consider them a waste of your money and time spent reading them. But maybe we should consider that if we didn't invest in books we don't enjoy from time to time, we probably wouldn't come across the rare gems either. And when you put them back into circulation by donating them to Goodwill Shops, somebody with different taste to yours might pick them up cheap and actually like them. Apart from my very favourites which I'd never part with, I'm beginning to think that books are like money. They are meant to be circulated and not hoarded.
A similar principle holds true for writing. Over time, I've ripped out or scribbled out lots of scenes that just seemed superfluous or not to fit. They were scenes that I'd worked hours on. That sort of situation has made me groan and think, 'What a waste of time and effort!' But it wasn't a waste because writing them was an integral part of writing the whole book.
That's all for now but I thought that in a few days I'll post some birthday and Christmas photos on. I might be posting more than just once a month, if I have anything good to share.
See you soon.
On Christmas Eve I had one of those milestone birthdays with a zero at the end of it. OK, it's the one between 30 and 50. It's handy in a way, when you spin over another decade just as the calendar spins over another decade. I've been told my due date was actually January 2nd, 1970 and wish I'd gone the distance, because Christmas Eve isn't a good time to try to fit a birthday into. I'm usually too busy along with everyone else. But there you go! And this year, I took the time to reflect because I don't want to go into my forties without some nostalgia.
First, I can see that it's an illusion that you're old or even middle aged when you reach it. In my heart of hearts I feel just the same as I did in my teens and early twenties. But back then, 40 did carry a middle-aged stigma. I wouldn't have wanted to write about them then, because I would have thought I had no idea how they think and feel. Now I know that they think and feel not much different as before. Now I'm not afraid to try to write convincingly about the elderly, because although I haven't got there yet, I'm willing to guess that it'll probably be the same.
40 years is a big chunk of time. The Israelites were wandering around in the Sinai Desert during a slab of time the duration of my life span. No wonder they thought God was slow to move. If I'd been a new-born baby during the Exodus from Egypt, it would have been the only life I'd ever known. Although 40 years is a snap in the grand scheme of things, it's definitely long enough for a person to become set in their ways.
I've seen extremes in my life. I've been chubby and I've been too skinny. I've been afraid that I could never have a baby or carry a pregnancy full term but I've also been surprised by a completely unexpected pregnancy. I can stand back and see that I've wasted a lot of energy fearing or worrying about things which never happened. I'll never have that emotional energy back again but at least I can launch into this season of my life with my eyes open.
New Year's Resolution
This is similar to all the advice you've probably heard to keep a Gratitude Journal, yet it's slightly different. I was thinking how I'd tend to get hurt feelings or sad if people overlook my efforts. Feeling unappreciated or unnoticed is not pleasant. On the other hand, when people do give us unexpected encouraging feedback, it gives us an instant lift. As God created us in His own image, He would surely feel the same. I found myself standing back and wondering how often I took the time to actually notice His efforts. He's made a fantastically beautiful world, and it's so easy to breeze along taking it for granted or not even noticing.
I've often been striving to make my own mark in the world and impress people. I'm tired of that attitude now. I want to begin to notice the beauty and say a sincere "Thank You Lord," for no other reason than warming His heart because somebody is acknowledging Him. Living in the Adelaide Hills is enough to give me a head start but beautiful things are everywhere. Babies and children, smiles on the faces of friendly people, images written in books. Yesterday I went for a walk in the Mt Barker wetlands near my home and started my new habit. I saw a great pelican sticking his neck under the water, tilting back his head and having a huge drink. He sort of shook it down his neck. And I sat still and watched a tiny wren flit into a bush and trill a little song that sounded like clear bells. What a huge difference there is between the pelican and the wren, yet they are both birds! I said, "Wow God, thank you for your magnificent variety." And at home, I wrote it into my journal and I felt good too. I think noticing the beauty is a habit I'll definitely keep up.
What I've been reading
In the week before Christmas I bought "The Book of Tomorrow" by Cecelia Ahern. She's only young and already a bestselling author, who wrote "PS, I Love You" which was made into a movie. I picked up her most recent book because the title drew me, and then the blurb on the back convinced me! I'll write it down, to show the impact a great blurb makes.
Tamara Goodwin has always lived in the here and now, never giving a second thought to tomorrow. Until a travelling library arrives in her tiny village bringing with it a mysterious, large leather-bound book locked with a gold clasp and padlock. What she discovers within the pages takes her breath away and shakes her world to its core. A mesmerising story about how tomorrow can change what happens today.
There you have it. An intriguing blurb needs to be paired up with an eye-catching cover to say, "Buy me!" My opinion of the book itself is that it was pretty good. I was interested enough to stay up late at the end of Christmas Day to finish it off, although the cheeky heroine had a mouth on her that I found a bit wearing on my nerves. It left me more enthusiastic to keep on with my own fiction for the Christian market because Christian readers deserve similar exciting and intriguing novels without having to wade through all the swearing and casual sex. And I have to add that this book is pretty mild compared to some I've read, including those which have been on the University English syllabus reading list.
Anyway, it's encouraging in a way to notice that the occasional bit of average writing can slip past the editors even in a best-seller like this. I found the following sentence:- "She had become grey in the face and lost all her colour." Now I've been assessing and tearing up my own work long enough to know that one of these two descriptive phrases should have been deleted. This sort of thing is a tautology. It's saying the same thing twice in different ways. Alison, my old editor who worked on my Quenarden books with me, used to refer to them as "wet water" and sometimes she'd jot "WW" in the margin of my manuscript with an arrow pointing to the tautology. When even bestselling books miss a few basic mistakes like this from time to time, it makes me think we can be easy on ourselves. We're all human!
Writers talking about other writers
Long ago I read some scathing comments that Louisa May Alcott wrote about Mark Twain, calling him vulgar and full of himself. She said that nobody should ever deign to read crass rubbish like his. Of course it was written in her polite, lady-like sort of way but I don't have her actual words in front of me. Anyway, a few days ago I came across a book which quoted Mark Twain himself slamming Jane Austen. He thought she was trite, affected and wrote books in which nothing meaty and interesting happened whatsoever. On his way home to America after his English tour, he complained that there was nothing better than her books in the ship's library. This proves that writers have always taken digs at each other. But it also proves that we should take lightly what other people say, no matter how great their credentials seem to be. All three of these authors are still enjoyed as classic geniuses with not just books but many quotes to their credit. People just have different tastes, that's all.
It also proves that there'll always be books you come across that you don't like much. You might consider them a waste of your money and time spent reading them. But maybe we should consider that if we didn't invest in books we don't enjoy from time to time, we probably wouldn't come across the rare gems either. And when you put them back into circulation by donating them to Goodwill Shops, somebody with different taste to yours might pick them up cheap and actually like them. Apart from my very favourites which I'd never part with, I'm beginning to think that books are like money. They are meant to be circulated and not hoarded.
A similar principle holds true for writing. Over time, I've ripped out or scribbled out lots of scenes that just seemed superfluous or not to fit. They were scenes that I'd worked hours on. That sort of situation has made me groan and think, 'What a waste of time and effort!' But it wasn't a waste because writing them was an integral part of writing the whole book.
That's all for now but I thought that in a few days I'll post some birthday and Christmas photos on. I might be posting more than just once a month, if I have anything good to share.
See you soon.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
November wrap-up
I'm a few days late but here I am.
Over the weekend, I flew up to the Word Writer's Fair which was held in Brisbane. I conducted a couple of the workshops which were running all day; one on jump-starting the imagination and the other on creating lovable characters. About 60 people attended the Fair, there were trading stalls, I made new contact with several people and had a good time.
I also attended a few workshops myself. The first was by Andrew Lansdown, whose new book of nature poetry, Birds in Mind, has just been published. From Andrew, I found out that I'm far more 'poetic' than I thought I was. He explained that the job of a poet is to make connections between the subject of a poem and something else that on the surface seems entirely unrelated. Of course, we all know this sort of thing as similes and metaphors. Poets rely on these devices to illuminate their work. But as he spoke I realised that it's just the same for prose writers. It's easy to assume that because we don't write actual poetry, we don't have the same sort of creativity that they do. But writers of fiction and non-fiction alike use similes, metaphors, symbolism and other similar literary devices all the time. Just yesterday as I was typing away at my new manuscript, I mentioned that one of the female characters carried her heaviness of heart like an X-ray apron, or something of the sort. Most prose authors do. OK, so we may not be Shakespeares but I think we should still think of ourselves as creative as poets, my friends.
I also attended the workshop of Janelle Dyer, the author of "Yellow Zone," a novel concerning the end-times predicted in scripture. Hers was on characters too. When I found out that she and I had chosen the same topic, I initially felt a bit regretful. But I needn't have worried because we handled it in totally different ways. I like to run workshops a bit like a stand-up comedian. I find it easiest to give a spiel which includes one-liners and jokes here and there to raise a laugh. Then I have one or two short exercises at the end. Not so with Jan. Her workshop involved group participation from the start. Sheets of butcher's paper were flying around and she had us brainstorming in groups with our black textas. She'd prepared many hand-outs while I relied more on participants paying attention, adding their observations and taking notes. There is nothing superior or inferior about either way. The difference of presenters just adds to the freshness of the day.
That's the impression I came home with. We really should celebrate our differences. At the Writer's Fair, we were all people who consider that we've been given the same creative gift of working with words on paper. But our ways of expressing it were as diverse as possible. God surely uses the personalities, life experiences and passions of each individual to shine. The price of the registration included a free book of the registrants choice. There were five newly published works to choose from.
1) My "A Design of Gold" which anyone who follows this newsletter/blog would know is a contemporary drama/romance novel. I love these.
2) "Birds in Mind"; those wonderful nature poems by Andrew Lansdown which I've mentioned.
3) "Climbing Mountains", a non-fiction biography by Stacey Charbachi, who discovered a breast lump when she was eight months pregnant with her second child, which turned out to be cancer. It's a candid and warm description about her journey back to health and wholeness.
4) "Nerrilee's World", a lovely picture book about a little mermaid, which was written by my editor, Anne Hamilton, and illustrated by Sandra Templeton. Nerrilee is an Aussie mermaid for sure, when you read about all the sea creatures and plants around her home.
5) "Even Before you were Born", a collection of different people's reflections on pregnancy and birth. This is a diversity within one cover, including art, poetry, reflections and stories. I wrote a story for it, about when my oldest son was born.
So what a mixed assortment of great reads from people all using our creative gifts. I flew back home to Adelaide at 5.30am, feeling glad that I came.
Over the weekend, I flew up to the Word Writer's Fair which was held in Brisbane. I conducted a couple of the workshops which were running all day; one on jump-starting the imagination and the other on creating lovable characters. About 60 people attended the Fair, there were trading stalls, I made new contact with several people and had a good time.
I also attended a few workshops myself. The first was by Andrew Lansdown, whose new book of nature poetry, Birds in Mind, has just been published. From Andrew, I found out that I'm far more 'poetic' than I thought I was. He explained that the job of a poet is to make connections between the subject of a poem and something else that on the surface seems entirely unrelated. Of course, we all know this sort of thing as similes and metaphors. Poets rely on these devices to illuminate their work. But as he spoke I realised that it's just the same for prose writers. It's easy to assume that because we don't write actual poetry, we don't have the same sort of creativity that they do. But writers of fiction and non-fiction alike use similes, metaphors, symbolism and other similar literary devices all the time. Just yesterday as I was typing away at my new manuscript, I mentioned that one of the female characters carried her heaviness of heart like an X-ray apron, or something of the sort. Most prose authors do. OK, so we may not be Shakespeares but I think we should still think of ourselves as creative as poets, my friends.
I also attended the workshop of Janelle Dyer, the author of "Yellow Zone," a novel concerning the end-times predicted in scripture. Hers was on characters too. When I found out that she and I had chosen the same topic, I initially felt a bit regretful. But I needn't have worried because we handled it in totally different ways. I like to run workshops a bit like a stand-up comedian. I find it easiest to give a spiel which includes one-liners and jokes here and there to raise a laugh. Then I have one or two short exercises at the end. Not so with Jan. Her workshop involved group participation from the start. Sheets of butcher's paper were flying around and she had us brainstorming in groups with our black textas. She'd prepared many hand-outs while I relied more on participants paying attention, adding their observations and taking notes. There is nothing superior or inferior about either way. The difference of presenters just adds to the freshness of the day.
That's the impression I came home with. We really should celebrate our differences. At the Writer's Fair, we were all people who consider that we've been given the same creative gift of working with words on paper. But our ways of expressing it were as diverse as possible. God surely uses the personalities, life experiences and passions of each individual to shine. The price of the registration included a free book of the registrants choice. There were five newly published works to choose from.
1) My "A Design of Gold" which anyone who follows this newsletter/blog would know is a contemporary drama/romance novel. I love these.
2) "Birds in Mind"; those wonderful nature poems by Andrew Lansdown which I've mentioned.
3) "Climbing Mountains", a non-fiction biography by Stacey Charbachi, who discovered a breast lump when she was eight months pregnant with her second child, which turned out to be cancer. It's a candid and warm description about her journey back to health and wholeness.
4) "Nerrilee's World", a lovely picture book about a little mermaid, which was written by my editor, Anne Hamilton, and illustrated by Sandra Templeton. Nerrilee is an Aussie mermaid for sure, when you read about all the sea creatures and plants around her home.
5) "Even Before you were Born", a collection of different people's reflections on pregnancy and birth. This is a diversity within one cover, including art, poetry, reflections and stories. I wrote a story for it, about when my oldest son was born.
So what a mixed assortment of great reads from people all using our creative gifts. I flew back home to Adelaide at 5.30am, feeling glad that I came.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
October newsletter
My new perspective
Here I am back again. I want my end of month wrap-ups to be upbeat. This reflection may seem sober but when I think about it, that's not really the case. It's a fact that hit me in the face this last week of October about the Christian book market in Australia. It's something that's been so obvious all along that I wonder it never hit me before. This awareness brought some sadness with it, but on the whole I think it has the potential to be very liberating. In short, Christian books is an industry that's not moving and I'm probably as "successful" in it as I'm ever going to be.
I've been working on my fiction ever since I was in my early twenties. All that time, in the back of mind I've hoped to make a name for myself and earn some money. Last week, the penny dropped that this may not ever be possible. I like to be optimistic, but I also need to be realistic. The set-up has long been bleak for Australian Christian authors of any genre, let alone fiction. Our two main national booksellers (Koorong and Word) seem to assume that local material won't sell very well. Australian produced writing carries a stigma. Sellers assume it will be colloquial and second rate, and therefore they don't bother to promote or highlight it in any way. They purchase a small number to get lost on their shelves collecting dust, and call that "supporting" Aussie authors. Rarely if ever does it get included in their catalogues. Hence, a vicious circle is created. Customers don't find Aussie books on the shelves because they don't know about them; and then sellers feel justified in saying that they don't sell. That's the scenario.
A friend of mine nailed it when she said that the bookstores are not there to create markets. They are there, in fact, to exploit the markets already created by writers. So unless a writer is a celebrity who will do more to support the bookstore than the reverse, the bookstores are not really interested. We assume our Christian bookstore chains exist for the purpose of outreach and evangelism, but sadly, they are first and foremost, businesses! In the past I would have considered this point of view cynical to the extreme. But after years of experiencing this, I now see it's wise and realistic. (Hey, having said this, I'd sure appreciate it if any Aussie readers who enjoyed my books would get onto the website of Koorong books and write reviews for them! We might as well try the best we can).
So here I am, almost through my thirties, and for the first time last week, I sat back and faced the fact that I probably won't ever grow 'successful' as a Christian fiction author. In fact if I keep going this way, I'll keep pouring in resources of money, time and creativity for very little return. It's been the same for over a decade. If I was "wise" in the common sense of the word, I'd choose to give up at this stage and do something else. Finding a full-time or part-time job outside of home would help financially. Several years back, we decided to put money into the publishing of my "Quenarden" series rather than put a deposit on a block of land. So my chosen calling; the occupation I'd hoped to become my "brilliant career" has actually cost us as a family. When I started thinking along these lines last week, my head started to ache and my spirits seemed to sag. I think that as well as being a calling, this has been a road of sacrifice.
Yet I'm going to keep on doing it for as long as I keep getting stories to tell! I have a wonderful, hard-working new publisher, Rochelle. I love writing stories. I really enjoy getting into my characters' heads. There is nothing like the euphoric feeling when people give me feedback that my books have blessed them. I like to think that these books are my contribution to God's goodness in the world; the way He's designed me to fulfil the Great Commission. Yeah, sure fiction can fulfil the Great Commission as well as anything else! The pen truly is mightier than the sword. If I worked in some office every day and had a great income but no chance to pursue my writing, I'd feel as if I'd missed something extremely precious. I'm glad I have a wonderful family who feel the same way.
So overall, my lifestyle is not going to change. The only thing that's going to have a complete turn-around is the way I think about things. God's priorities aren't a well-known name, expensive homes and holidays and money, after all. I'm going to stop thinking of my writing as a business and begin thinking of it as a ministry! That's what will make me happier. It's already begun to make a huge difference.
My parents had their Golden Wedding anniversary on October 24th
I was searching for a lovely card for them and discovered that there are not as many Golden Wedding cards as I expected in the shops. Perhaps its getting more unusual for couples for last 50 years in this day and age when separation and divorces touch more families than ever before. I thought I'd ask them their secret to a long, happy life together. As I expected, they made jokes without even thinking very hard. Mum said, "Keep your mouth shut" and "Agree a lot" and "Master the art of flattery." Dad said, "Figure out that she's the boss and don't forget your place." Yet as I was laughing, it occurred to me that this actually is their secret to going the distance. A sense of humour smooths out many rough patches.
My sister Julie bought them a music CD full of all the hit songs of 1959, the year they were married. She is very creative in getting the best presents. There must be a real gift to that. Not only does she come up with unusual ideas, she also finds places to purchase them. There must be more to it being happening to be in the right place at the right time, because I've tried to rely on that and it doesn't work so well for me.
A bit of interesting trivia; my parents were married on the day when TV first made it's debut in Australia. Our long-running Channel 9 went on air for the first time that night. The story goes that one of my uncles decided not to attend the wedding because of this.
Are you like the letter Q?
The reason I ask is because I've been reading a book in which the letter Q is typed in a font that makes it appear more like a quirky capital Q than the small "q" I'm used to seeing in the middle of words. Having noticed it once, I kept noticing Qs written in this way over and over on at least every second or third page. Words containing them came up all the time; equivalent, quilt, question, cheque, equal, quite, require, inadequacy, consequences, square, quality, and I just noticed that I used the word "quirky" quite unconsciously it in the second sentence of this reflection. There I go again with "quite".
Frankly, I didn't realise the letter Q is such a well-used letter in the English language. If anyone had asked me, I would've called it one of the rarer, more dispensable ones that we need to hold onto for a long time on our Scrabble palettes. I would've thought it just pops up on rare occasions to add a bit of variety. Now, to my surprise, I see that Q is far more versatile, handy and necessary than I would ever have imagined. I'd go so far as to say that if we ever dispensed with it (assuming that vowels, m, t, n and s are more important), we'd soon become unstuck and feel sorry.
In moments of discouragement, I tend to think of myself as a relatively useless person who doesn't do as much "important" stuff as others. Yet like Q, I do add my bit to the world. I look after my family, tell jokes that make people smile, write books that amuse and inspire, and I've been on hand to give people encouragement many times. If I wasn't around to do these things, the world surely would be a poorer place.
I'm surrounded by the sort of people who could be seen as an m or t or a. They are doctors, nurses, social workers, teachers, pastors and missionaries; the vital difference-makers doing tangible good. I've let myself feel guilty and inferior because I don't picture myself as a vital difference maker. But the letter Q has just shown me that we can be important in our own ways. We can provide the sort of uplift that is over in a flash but gifts people a happy lift. My function is to give people a break to have a smile and enjoy something I've said or written. Without the people who do this sort of simple thing, the world would be a far less spicy place. If you stop people like me (and maybe you too) doing what we do, the world would soon notice and demand us back. We're Qs! We're the simple encouragers, story-tellers and creators of beauty. Our quirkiness and quixotic qualities give the world a burst of unique fragrance!
See you next month. I'll be going to Brisbane for the Word Writer's fair in late November and will let you know what happens.
Here I am back again. I want my end of month wrap-ups to be upbeat. This reflection may seem sober but when I think about it, that's not really the case. It's a fact that hit me in the face this last week of October about the Christian book market in Australia. It's something that's been so obvious all along that I wonder it never hit me before. This awareness brought some sadness with it, but on the whole I think it has the potential to be very liberating. In short, Christian books is an industry that's not moving and I'm probably as "successful" in it as I'm ever going to be.
I've been working on my fiction ever since I was in my early twenties. All that time, in the back of mind I've hoped to make a name for myself and earn some money. Last week, the penny dropped that this may not ever be possible. I like to be optimistic, but I also need to be realistic. The set-up has long been bleak for Australian Christian authors of any genre, let alone fiction. Our two main national booksellers (Koorong and Word) seem to assume that local material won't sell very well. Australian produced writing carries a stigma. Sellers assume it will be colloquial and second rate, and therefore they don't bother to promote or highlight it in any way. They purchase a small number to get lost on their shelves collecting dust, and call that "supporting" Aussie authors. Rarely if ever does it get included in their catalogues. Hence, a vicious circle is created. Customers don't find Aussie books on the shelves because they don't know about them; and then sellers feel justified in saying that they don't sell. That's the scenario.
A friend of mine nailed it when she said that the bookstores are not there to create markets. They are there, in fact, to exploit the markets already created by writers. So unless a writer is a celebrity who will do more to support the bookstore than the reverse, the bookstores are not really interested. We assume our Christian bookstore chains exist for the purpose of outreach and evangelism, but sadly, they are first and foremost, businesses! In the past I would have considered this point of view cynical to the extreme. But after years of experiencing this, I now see it's wise and realistic. (Hey, having said this, I'd sure appreciate it if any Aussie readers who enjoyed my books would get onto the website of Koorong books and write reviews for them! We might as well try the best we can).
So here I am, almost through my thirties, and for the first time last week, I sat back and faced the fact that I probably won't ever grow 'successful' as a Christian fiction author. In fact if I keep going this way, I'll keep pouring in resources of money, time and creativity for very little return. It's been the same for over a decade. If I was "wise" in the common sense of the word, I'd choose to give up at this stage and do something else. Finding a full-time or part-time job outside of home would help financially. Several years back, we decided to put money into the publishing of my "Quenarden" series rather than put a deposit on a block of land. So my chosen calling; the occupation I'd hoped to become my "brilliant career" has actually cost us as a family. When I started thinking along these lines last week, my head started to ache and my spirits seemed to sag. I think that as well as being a calling, this has been a road of sacrifice.
Yet I'm going to keep on doing it for as long as I keep getting stories to tell! I have a wonderful, hard-working new publisher, Rochelle. I love writing stories. I really enjoy getting into my characters' heads. There is nothing like the euphoric feeling when people give me feedback that my books have blessed them. I like to think that these books are my contribution to God's goodness in the world; the way He's designed me to fulfil the Great Commission. Yeah, sure fiction can fulfil the Great Commission as well as anything else! The pen truly is mightier than the sword. If I worked in some office every day and had a great income but no chance to pursue my writing, I'd feel as if I'd missed something extremely precious. I'm glad I have a wonderful family who feel the same way.
So overall, my lifestyle is not going to change. The only thing that's going to have a complete turn-around is the way I think about things. God's priorities aren't a well-known name, expensive homes and holidays and money, after all. I'm going to stop thinking of my writing as a business and begin thinking of it as a ministry! That's what will make me happier. It's already begun to make a huge difference.
My parents had their Golden Wedding anniversary on October 24th
I was searching for a lovely card for them and discovered that there are not as many Golden Wedding cards as I expected in the shops. Perhaps its getting more unusual for couples for last 50 years in this day and age when separation and divorces touch more families than ever before. I thought I'd ask them their secret to a long, happy life together. As I expected, they made jokes without even thinking very hard. Mum said, "Keep your mouth shut" and "Agree a lot" and "Master the art of flattery." Dad said, "Figure out that she's the boss and don't forget your place." Yet as I was laughing, it occurred to me that this actually is their secret to going the distance. A sense of humour smooths out many rough patches.
My sister Julie bought them a music CD full of all the hit songs of 1959, the year they were married. She is very creative in getting the best presents. There must be a real gift to that. Not only does she come up with unusual ideas, she also finds places to purchase them. There must be more to it being happening to be in the right place at the right time, because I've tried to rely on that and it doesn't work so well for me.
A bit of interesting trivia; my parents were married on the day when TV first made it's debut in Australia. Our long-running Channel 9 went on air for the first time that night. The story goes that one of my uncles decided not to attend the wedding because of this.
Are you like the letter Q?
The reason I ask is because I've been reading a book in which the letter Q is typed in a font that makes it appear more like a quirky capital Q than the small "q" I'm used to seeing in the middle of words. Having noticed it once, I kept noticing Qs written in this way over and over on at least every second or third page. Words containing them came up all the time; equivalent, quilt, question, cheque, equal, quite, require, inadequacy, consequences, square, quality, and I just noticed that I used the word "quirky" quite unconsciously it in the second sentence of this reflection. There I go again with "quite".
Frankly, I didn't realise the letter Q is such a well-used letter in the English language. If anyone had asked me, I would've called it one of the rarer, more dispensable ones that we need to hold onto for a long time on our Scrabble palettes. I would've thought it just pops up on rare occasions to add a bit of variety. Now, to my surprise, I see that Q is far more versatile, handy and necessary than I would ever have imagined. I'd go so far as to say that if we ever dispensed with it (assuming that vowels, m, t, n and s are more important), we'd soon become unstuck and feel sorry.
In moments of discouragement, I tend to think of myself as a relatively useless person who doesn't do as much "important" stuff as others. Yet like Q, I do add my bit to the world. I look after my family, tell jokes that make people smile, write books that amuse and inspire, and I've been on hand to give people encouragement many times. If I wasn't around to do these things, the world surely would be a poorer place.
I'm surrounded by the sort of people who could be seen as an m or t or a. They are doctors, nurses, social workers, teachers, pastors and missionaries; the vital difference-makers doing tangible good. I've let myself feel guilty and inferior because I don't picture myself as a vital difference maker. But the letter Q has just shown me that we can be important in our own ways. We can provide the sort of uplift that is over in a flash but gifts people a happy lift. My function is to give people a break to have a smile and enjoy something I've said or written. Without the people who do this sort of simple thing, the world would be a far less spicy place. If you stop people like me (and maybe you too) doing what we do, the world would soon notice and demand us back. We're Qs! We're the simple encouragers, story-tellers and creators of beauty. Our quirkiness and quixotic qualities give the world a burst of unique fragrance!
See you next month. I'll be going to Brisbane for the Word Writer's fair in late November and will let you know what happens.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
A change to come
I've decided to change how I blog. Instead of trying to keep up a regular record of happenings and reflections as I've been doing since January 1st, 2006, I'll be blogging just once a month, in the last week of the month. It will still be here at the same address but more like a monthly newsletter. The reason is mainly a matter of time and priorities. I've been a bit burned-out. It's great that my new novel has just been published but I'm finding that good things can take their toll on your adrenals and fatigue level as much as not-so-good. I'm presently working on a manuscript, homeschooling my family, trying to begin a small party-plan business and teaching Blake's Sunday School class in three week blocks. At the same time there's housework and exercise to contend with too. To be honest, it's all been getting on top of me so I decided something has to slide but couldn't decide what.
I didn't want it to be my blog. I love my blog. I love the friends I've made. I love blogging the way I've been doing it until now. But when I came up with the idea of doing a monthly newsletter, I figured out that it'll be a nice compromise. I expect it to be better in many ways.
1) Anyone who'd like to visit here and leave a comment will have a more definite idea of when I'll be saying something, so you don't need to keep coming over to check.
2) I'll definitely have much more to say. After storing up my thoughts in a journal all month, I'll never get blog-freeze again.
3) I'll be able to devote more time to reading the posts of others, because the time I devote to blogs will be freed up.
4) My thoughts will be less scattered. I'll be more focused.
5) I guess it means there'll be only twelve posts/year. That'll be weird but I'm expecting they'll be longer, newsier and more interesting.
I've convinced myself! Now I can hardly wait until the last week of October for my first newsletter. I'll be back then.
I didn't want it to be my blog. I love my blog. I love the friends I've made. I love blogging the way I've been doing it until now. But when I came up with the idea of doing a monthly newsletter, I figured out that it'll be a nice compromise. I expect it to be better in many ways.
1) Anyone who'd like to visit here and leave a comment will have a more definite idea of when I'll be saying something, so you don't need to keep coming over to check.
2) I'll definitely have much more to say. After storing up my thoughts in a journal all month, I'll never get blog-freeze again.
3) I'll be able to devote more time to reading the posts of others, because the time I devote to blogs will be freed up.
4) My thoughts will be less scattered. I'll be more focused.
5) I guess it means there'll be only twelve posts/year. That'll be weird but I'm expecting they'll be longer, newsier and more interesting.
I've convinced myself! Now I can hardly wait until the last week of October for my first newsletter. I'll be back then.
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