Angie at Infuze

Fellow Misfit Angie Poole has her story, "A Stone's Throw" up at Infuze. It's a great example of her pink collar drama. I just love her voice. So go read it; you'll be glad you did.

Update on the Mac:
Still not working. I did recover and backup all my files but I still have some corruption on the hard drive. Trying to determine exactly what it is before I call Apple. AGAIN. Sigh.

Day Eight and Nine

UPDATE: This was supposed to post Sunday. However, my Mac died. I think it's the hard drive. I ran some diagnostic tests and tried to repair it myself today to no avail. Luckily it's still under warranty and I have automatic backups. Unluckily, I'm without my pacifier and going through withdrawals. I'm having to try to access everything from the PC at home, which is where this post is coming from. I'll let you know more after I talk to Apple tomorrow.

***

Since I was done with writing for a while, I spent Friday updating my blog. Blogger forced me to a new template so I had some difficulty figuring out how to get it back to the customization I had done before. Then I added a few things. So that took a big chunk of time.

Then I decided to get a MySpace page. With Michelle walking me through it I was able to get it up pretty quickly.

On Saturday, we had been invited to a theatre fundraiser by Michelle’s friend, Kim. Kim sells clothes, jewelry, and makeup and has a great eye for putting outfits together. Since the event was formal, she dressed and bedecked Michelle and I with jewelry. She even lent Mich her mink coat.

On the way to the theatre we drove by a field filled with deer. I couldn’t believe it. I hadn’t seen deer since I was at Yosemite. Well, there was a dead one on the road to Kokomo that someone had hit, but that doesn’t really count.

The evening began with silent auction. Michelle had put together a basket of books donated by ACFW authors. It ended up brining in $105. Then we had a really nice dinner and watched a shortened version of Guys and Dolls.


Because it was such a late evening, we were hungry again on the drive home, so I requested a stop at White Castle. I’ve had frozen White Castle burgers from Costco but never the real thing. In fact, until I saw Wayne’s World, I never knew it was an actual place. So we go tromping inside in our formal dresses and Mich’s mink to eat at White Castle. Kim shared her White Castle experiences from college. We went back to Kim’s house to return the clothes and jewelry then drove another back to Mich’s house where we arrived at 2:30 AM. It was a great night.

Our flight leaves tomorrow at 8 AM so we have to be up EARLY! It’s been a great trip and we can’t wait to come back and visit again. The only thing the kids missed was actually seeing the snow falling.

Day Five, Six and Seven

Well Sabrina kinda outted us in her comment on Day Two. Wednesday Mich and I had planned to drive down to Kokomo to meet Sabrina and Cara Putman for lunch.

The day before, Mich’s dog, Molly, had scratched Mich’s eye with her claw. So Phil took Mich to the doctor’s where they spent most of the day. Mich got a contact bandage and some drops to put in. It was one of the worst kinds of scratches you can get on your eye. So she had a follow up appointment Wednesday morning.

She got back and we left. Between getting stuck behind some slow drivers and having to ask to find where the Cracker Barrel was, we were about a half hour late. We thought.

I should make another disclaimer here. I’ve lived in two time zones: Pacific and Mountain. In Arizona, we don’t even change our clocks for Daylight Savings. So I don’t know about time zones out here. But apparently Mich lives in Central and Kokomo is in Eastern. So we were actually an hour and a half late. And we hadn’t exchanged phone numbers. Sigh..

So Cara had to leave by the time we got there and Sabrina was nice enough to stay and visit for another hour. Poor woman, she’d spent her whole afternoon there! But it was great to visit and catch up with her.

On the way home we let the kids run around McDonald’s playplace for a while to burn off energy before driving home in a rainstorm.

Yesterday, Mich and I finished the final polish on our Relief Daily Sacrament contest stories and submitted them. I happened to double check mine after I’d uploaded it and it looked like total gibberish. Considering I’d been having trouble with Firefox uploading files to my Yahoo groups, I assumed that was the problem. And it was. I switched to Safari, uploaded it, and it looked fine. But it was a little stressful there for a moment. I should learn to not play so close to the deadline. Which I think I’ve said before.

I don’t know what we’re going to do today. But I know what we’re NOT going to do: write.

Day Three and Four

Since Michelle doesn’t have enough money to buy me off and there’s nothing that I want to blackmail her for, the story of our trip to Chicago will end with the beginning.

Let me just say this. I like to plan. If I’m going some place new I like maps and schedules and all the information I can get. I actually had all that stuff for Chicago, but I left it at the house because I trusted Michelle. That was my first mistake. Kidding! But really, I was just having a good time and not really paying attention where we needed to be and when. I figured Mich would keep track of all of that. However, Mich only got three hours of sleep the night before.

We got off the train at 9 PM. There are two cars in the parking lot, neither of which were Michelle’s. We got off at the wrong stop. One stop PAST our stop. And no trains going back that direction.

So it’s dark. And there’s nothing around but a small gas station. Luckily, it has a mini-mart inside where we got something to drink and a place to wait outside.

We could walk 4 miles in the dark on a two-lane road to the station where our car was at, with three tired kids. Or call a cab. Or call Phil but he’d take at least an hour to get to us.

Luckily, Mich has a friend who lives about 20 minutes from the station. She came and took us to the station. Mich was able to talk to the lady at the mini-mart and get directions. She also told us that people get off at this stop by mistake all the time. So Mich’s friend came and got us, took us to our car and then we had another hour drive home. But we talked writing and stuff, like we have been all weekend while the kids slept.

So, back to the beginning. I forgot to mention that yesterday, even though it was upper 40s, Mich and I sat outside on her porch and wrote. With my heavy coat, my warm laptop, and a blanket on my legs, I was pretty cozy. Of course our being outside was necessitated by Calvin’s attempt to walk on their not-totally-frozen-solid pond.

Today we went to Chicago (okay, it’s yesterday now). I’ve never been. Then again, I’ve never been anywhere. We took the train in, which was also a new experience, and hit the Starbucks in the train station. Mich and I were critiquing some Misfit stuff on the train.

When then took the bus (going the wrong way at first) to Navy Pier where we spent the day at the Children’s Museum.












We also walked the length of the pier and visited the stained glass museum. Apparently at the turn of the century (19th to 20th) Chicago was quite the place for art glass. We saw some beautiful examples.

It was pretty comfortable temp wise. It was drizzling in the morning, but soon turned sunny with a light breeze. I wasn’t cold once.

Mich and I are also teaching our children our rule breaking tendency. They were doing an elevated net/rope course when two of them turned and started coming back. We waved at them to continue on when we heard a chorus of “we’re not allowed!” Huh? We’d sent them through the exit.

Later on the way home we were trying to find the train station. We found the El stations and the bus stops, but we couldn’t find the entrance to the train station. Turns out we walked past it three times, once going a couple of blocks out of our way. I think we were talking. Then we proceeded down the stairs, en masse, on the wrong side. Irritating hurried commuters, I’m sure.

Actually, everyone we met was really nice to us. We were hurrying to make our train, after another stop at the bathroom and Starbucks, only to find every car was full we were going to have to sit apart. Several people changed seats so we were each able to sit with our kids. We found out that even though we got on the train at 7:10 PM, this was actually the 6:08 train. It finally left at 7:30. Because it was running so late, we got to ride for free. Let’s just say I was glad to have my venti chai latte. Especially given what came later.

More tomorrow after we’ve recovered.

Day Two

When we got in the car yesterday Sissy asked, “What station is this? What kind of music is this?” Yes, Mich is making me listen to country music. I don’t think my kids have ever heard it.

The kids got to play in what was left of the snow today. They had fun tossing it at each other. Calvin tried his hand at reverse snow-shoveling. He was tossing it from the yard onto the porch. He also thought shoes were optional.

We went walking in the woods. The Pendergrasses have 15 acres. Calvin came home with the bone of some animal. He was quite thrilled.

Mich and I also spent time brainstorming and editing our stories for the Relief/FiF contest. I think we’ve made some progress.

More tomorrow . . .

We're Here

The kids and I are spending Spring Break with Michelle and her family. This should be an adventure. I’ve rarely been outside of California and Arizona. They live in Indiana. Where they get snow. And it’s cold.

So we’re flying in and I have to laugh. As gray and brown and overcast as it is, it could almost be San Bernardino, California in the summer when I was growing up. The grasses on the foothills would be brown and dead from the heat and the smog hung over and obscured the mountains. Other than the temperatures, the scenes were eerily similar.

One thing I noticed is that the raindrops seem smaller here. Twice we’ve walked outside, I’ve noticed the ground was wet, but I couldn’t feel any rain. I’m wondering if all the dust in the desert air makes the raindrops bigger.

The other thing is how much more hydrated my skin feels. My hands were dry and flaky when I was on the plane and all ready they are feeling softer. So, beauty tip for the day: move somewhere where it rains. Or there’s actual moisture in the air. So it doesn’t get sucked out of your skin.

When we got to Michelle’s house there were still patches of snow on the ground. My kids have never seen snow, so first thing out of the car they make a beeline for the nearest patch. Sissy just touches it (“Wow! It’s cold!”) but Calvin has to go jump in it (“It feels like ice!”). He walks in snow up to his ankles from the car to the house, big grin on his face.

It’s raining tonight, so I don’t know if there’ll be any snow left by morning for them to play in.

More updates tomorrow.

And you might want to check out Michelle’s blog to get her version of events.

Facing the Giant of Christian Art: an oxymoron?

Over on the ACFW loop there was some discussion about the movie Facing the Giants. I’m not going to rehash it here, I haven’t even seen the movie. But it’s an example of a subject that comes up time and again about Christian art. What is it? Does it even exist? Should it? Huge questions that I’m not going to even begin to address.

Pam Meyers posted a link to a Jeffrey Overstreet article at Christianity Today that I thought did an outstanding job of summing up some of the answers to these questions. While he’s talking about movies and movie reviews, I think everything he says applies equally to writing. This quote in particular really resonated with me.

"Sermons have their proper place and purpose, but art is something different. I want to encourage audiences to move beyond simplistic, formulaic gospel lessons into the magnificence of the gospel as it is revealed in the lives of our neighbors, in creation, in history, in aesthetics, in mystery, and in the darkest corners of human experience."

That might be the best quote to explain what I want to accomplish with my writing. And I don’t think I’m alone in that desire.

Later he says:

"And good art cannot be reduced to a simple, extractable message. If your movie leads up to a simple 'Come to Jesus' climax, that may make for an entertaining sermon, but don't ask us to praise it as great storytelling. That's an altar call, not art."

And this:

"I want to see that what is good is lifted up. And I want to see crass and sinful behavior reflected truthfully so that we can see it as unhealthy, and then live our lives with that understanding.

In other words, I am looking for signs of truth, beauty, excellence, and redemption in art. And that means looking closer, not putting on blinders."

Because I write romantic suspense, this is an issue that comes up. How do I portray evil in the world in a way that is truthful and glorifies God? How much to put ‘on scene’? Are there subjects that are off limits? I think the answer will vary from book to book and writer to writer, but the above quote is a good reference point to begin thinking about those questions.

"Many Christians are not comfortable with art that reflects the complexity and the darkness of the world. Many would prefer movies that make them comfortable, or that steer their attentions away from the problems in the world and the rough edges of worldly people. They prefer movies that tell them that Christians are clearly "the good guys" and everybody else, well, they're the bad guys. And they do not discern the difference between portraying/exposing wickedness—and actually condoning wickedness.

They want Christian critics to condemn movies that portray the reality of evil, because dealing with evil is a discomforting, painful, sometimes horrifying process."

This is the one of the issues that has been discussed in the CBA writing circles. Lately there has been something called “the new CBA” as opposed to the traditional, bread-and-butter CBA. The quote above I think embodies what those of us trying to write for “the new CBA” are trying to do and the challenges we are coming up against.

I’m tempted to keep quoting the whole article, so please click over and read it for yourself. For me there was just a ton of stuff to mull over. I’d love to hear your thoughts on this too.

And the Winner Is…

Well, we’ll get to that in a minute. First, some congratulations to friend and fellow Misfit, Heather, whose story "Matt and Marnie Sittin' in a Tree. Or Something Like That" is up at Infuze Magazine. Go check it out.

Second, I spent last night at my daughter’s enrichment programs. They put on a Living History Museum. The kids got to pick which historical character they wanted to come dressed as. She chose Amelia Earhart. She wrote a four page report, made a display board, came in costume and answered questions about Amelia’s life. She was one of 19 participants, and the historical figures ranged from Cleopatra to Ronald and Nancy Reagan. There were entertainers, scientists, and political figures. It was so fun to see the different ways the kids chose to present their projects. A few even used computer presentations.

Even better, this was all voluntary participation. This is an enrichment program for homeschoolers where they can do more extracurricular activities like Spanish, dance, drama, chess, intense science units, etc to enrich their homeschooling experience. It’s been a great program for both of my kids. And I was pretty proud of how much work she put into her project and how well she did last night.

Finally, what you all have been waiting for. The winner of Renovating Becky Miller is . . .

Georgiana D!

E-mail me through my contact information on the right and give me your snail mail info so I can get the book out to you. Thanks for playing, everyone.

Welcome Sharon Hinck

Hey everyone. Today I have a guest, Sharon Hinck. She’s the author of the Secret Life of Becky Miller and her latest book, Renovating Becky Miller.

In addition to being a young mom, Becky Miller is a daydreamer. Most recently, she’s been envisioning herself in the happy endings she sees during her weekly movie nights with husband Kevin. But her real life feels more like a broken filmstrip, spinning out of control!

When Becky and her family decide to purchase a rundown farmhouse, Becky pictures a slower, simpler lifestyle in the pastoral countryside. Of course, it doesn’t quite work out like she imagined . . . .

Regular readers of my blog know that I have, um, “adventures.” Sometimes they’re of my kids’ making, sometimes they’re my own. Sometimes they involve home improvement (here too). With that in mind, did the inspiration for Becky Miller come from the collision of motherhood and writing in your own life, or is she strictly imaginary, or some composite?

Friends know that I’m always having adventures – and that went on even before I had children to blame it on! Once we had children, the “adventures” increased exponentially. As did the internal pressures to “get it right.” Becky’s storylines are fictional, but her juggling act is VERY familiar to me.

I love this section: “I was a full time mom. And I loved it. Except when it drove me crazy. My children were magnificent, bewildering creations gifted to me from the Almighty. Except when they were tormenting me like gleeful gargoyles wielding red-hot pokers.” Which made me wonder, how do you juggle being a mom and writer? And have any of your children tried to burn the house down with a toaster while you were writing? (Or is that just me?)

Okay, I have to confess that I’m the one who starts the most fires. I put eggs on to boil then wander off to check my email…and don’t come up for air until the smoke alarm goes off a half-hour later. I’m also entering that wonderful age where I go downstairs to get something, but then can’t remember why I went downstairs. The kids help – by mocking me. I’m always losing my cup of tea (usually where I’ve left it – reheating in the microwave).

I wrestle a lot with the things I’m not good at as a mom, since I’m expending a lot of energy and time in writing. On the other hand, all four of my kids are passionate about the arts – music, drama, writing, photography, composing, singing. We’ve had some great conversations about the challenge of serving God through the arts. So in some ways my artistic life can bring blessing to my parenting life. (But pray for my dear husband – surrounded by a wife and four children who are ALL artists. Poor man. We sure keep his life interesting.)

I haven’t been on the sports booster club for school, but I’ve choreographed school musicals. I didn’t drive for grade-school field trips, but I talked to classes for reading week. I rarely bake cookies, but I listen to my daughter’s plot-threads for her latest story or play piano duets with my son. I’m not measuring up to my picture of “The Good Mom,” but I’m learning that picture can be a harmful myth.

I struggle with that too. One of Becky’s issues is an overloaded schedule that makes her feel like she’s rushing constantly and being pulled in different directions. I think we can all relate to that. Did you come up with any secret solutions while writing this that you’d like to share?

One thing Becky taught me, as I watched her journey in Renovating Becky Miller, is that we take on responsibilities to fix things that aren’t our job to fix. In each situation, we have an opportunity to bring our small part of grace to the needs we see. But that doesn’t mean it’s all up to us to make others happy, or solve every issue. God really is big enough (and the ONLY ONE big enough) to handle the needs we see around us. That spoke to me. I used to see my tiny contributions as failures, since they only helped a little – and didn’t fix the whole problem. Now I’m beginning to see that sometimes God has called me to that one little piece, and He has other people in the body to contribute other pieces.

That's so true and yet so hard for us to remember. I love this part of your bio: ‘My favorite college and community theatre role was as Luisa in “The Fantastiks” where in an opening monologue the character prays, “Please, God, please. Don’t let me be normal.” I think God answered my prayer...’ Writers are some of my favorite people to hang out with because they aren’t normal, because their combination of verbal skills and imagination can create some of the most interesting conversations. What experiences have you had talking with ‘normals’ where they looked at you like you were out of your mind?

Hee hee! Great question. My small group women’s Bible study (affectionately known as The Church Ladies) have informed me that my mind is a weird and scary place. But they encourage me to be who God made me (as a “not normal”) because they’ve been blessed by that. Come to think of it, maybe that’s just because they find it so reassuring to see how much more normal they are by comparison! They DO think it’s weird when I come to our Bible study worried about a character that’s in trouble. I’ll explain that I have to hurry home to finish a scene, because I don’t want to leave the character in that dilemma for too long.

Generally they give me a cup of tea and pat my shoulders, and remind me that my characters are fictional.

I’ve worked in the arts all my life, and there is certainly a heightened degree of “not normal” that goes along with the sideways view of life and the desire to express deep things. However, I’ll let you in on a secret. Each of us is so unique, and reflects such specific and amazing aspects of God’s nature – that no one is normal. And I’m delighted by that.

Good, then I'm in good company. Thanks for being with us, Sharon.

Thank YOU so much for inviting me to stop by! This was a really fun chat! I hope your kids stop setting your toaster on fire – but I hope life never gets too normal for you.
Hugs, Sharon

Jen here. If you want to win an autographed copy of Renovating Becky Miller leave a comment and I'll draw names next Friday. You can also leave a comment even if you don't want to win ;)

Schedule Update

Just to let you all know tomorrow I'll have an interview here with Sharon Hinck, author of Secret Life of Becky Miller and Renovating Becky Miller. She'll also stop by to answer questions and I'll be giving away a copy of her latest book. So stop by tomorrow and make Sharon feel welcome.

Blame Michelle

Ah, I guess meme's are good for giving me something to blog about. This one is courtesy of Michelle.

A - Available or Married? Married.

B - Best Moment? Wow, hard to say. But I'm going with the birth of my son, little Calvin, because he wasn't suppose to survive the pregnancy.

C - Cake or Pie? Pie -- Cake, preferably chocolate. Maybe a flourless torte with a ganache icing. Hmm, I wonder if I have any.

D - Drink of choice? Diet Coke, a decent wine, and either Perrier or San Pellegrino.

E - Essential Item? My Mac PowerBook G4. Even if the lid won't stay shut. Sigh.

F - Favorite Color? Blue. Periwinkle, to be specific.

G - Gummi Bears or Worms? Bears, but really I'm not fond of either. Too sweet and they stick in your teeth.

H - Hometown? Highland, Calif. Major points to anyone who's even heard of it. More points if you know where it is.

I - Indulgence? A hot bubble bath, a glass of wine, and a good book.

J - January or February? February. In January I'm still recovering from the holidays. It's nothing personal.

K - Kids & names? "Sissy" and "Calvin". Sorry, not giving you their real names.

L - Life is incomplete without? Books.

M - Marriage Date? September 2, 1995.

N - Number of Siblings? Two younger brothers.

O - Oranges or apples? Oranges. But I grew up surrounded by orange groves, so that's kind of a given. Ever been in a rotten orange fight? I don't recommend it.

P - Phobias/Fears... Kites (kidding). Heights, elevators, and spiders.

Q - Favorite Quotation? "For God so loved the world . . ."

R - Reason to Smile? My kids. Always.

S - Season? Summer. It's warm. Okay, in Arizona it's blisteringly hot. Still. . .

T - Tag three people! Oh good grief. Everybody's already been tagged. How about this? Tag yourself.

U - Unknown fact about me: If it's unknown, do I even know it? And if I do, why would I want to share it? There's probably a good reason it's unknown.

V - Vegetable you hate? Beans. In any way, shape, or form.

W - Worst habit? Probably worrying. But I'm getting better.

Where's X? Because there could be question on X-rays. I've had a lot of those.

Y - Your favorite food? Right now chocolate covered strawberries sound wonderful . . .

Z - Zodiac? Cancer.

To Goal or Not to Goal

Okay, it’s February, a little late normally to be talking about goals. But then again, I’m not much for rules . . . And lately I’ve been thinking a lot about goals. I normally make goals for myself, both short term and long term. But this year I haven’t been real motivated to get any done. Usually my short to medium term goals go on a white board above my desk. But up until a couple of weeks ago, I didn’t even know where that whiteboard was after our move. Now, I need to find the whiteboard cleaner so I can clean it and then figure out what I want to put up there. Maybe that should be my first goal.

I like this blog entry from Thomas Nelson CEO Michael Hyatt on goal setting. It’s worth perusing if you’re interested in the topic. The points he makes that have worked for me are: reward yourself for hitting your goals, write them down, keep them limited, and keep them specific. I love this in particular.

I know my limitations and am very much aware that I can’t accomplish what I believe I am supposed to do without God’s help. (If you can accomplish an objective without God’s help, you’re not thinking big enough.)

Here's why I like goals. It's hard to hit something you're not aiming at. In fact, it rarely happens. Plus, it helps you make decisions on where you spend your time, talent, and resources. If you want to write a best-seller but you spend all your time painting, something isn't adding up.

That ties in a lot with what I've been thinking lately about who God designed me to be. It's not necessarily what other people think I've been designed to be. So as a result, I'm thinking of starting a “To NOT do” list. I think I first heard of this idea from Andy Stanley's The Next Generation Leader. And I think Michael Hyatt brought it up recently on his blog, but I can't be sure about much if I have to rely on my memory. Anyhow, they are things I’m not going to do anymore. This does fit in nicely with goals, because to achieve some goals you have to give some stuff up. While I’d love to put house cleaning on my “To NOT do” list, I think that may have to wait awhile. But I am going to be delegating more chores to my kids. I am not going to be guilted into doing things that don’t apply to my goals anymore. And I’m going to give up a few activities that don’t relate to my goals.

As soon as I find that whiteboard cleaner.

So anyone want to share their goals? Or their To NOT do list?

I'm Up

Over at the Carnival of Christian Writers at Writer Interrupted.

A Year Long Class on Writing . . . and It's Free

At the end of last year I mentioned that Bob Mayer and Jennifer Crusie were going to be teaching a year-long writing class on their blog and you can participate. Well, I sorta forgot about it until the other day. So, here's the link.

One thing I always enjoyed about reading their blog and listening to their lectures on CD is that they approach writing a little differently. This is good for beginning writers to know and for all of us to remember. There is more than one way to write. Part of the learning curve is figuring out how you do it.

The other enjoyable thing is how they banter and bait each other a lot. Good to know writers can have a good sense of humor. At least all the ones I hang out with do . . .

Finally, it's free. That is almost always a good thing, especially for broke writers.

Tagged again

Michelle tagged me with six things that are weird about me. At first I had a hard time coming up with them. It’s hard to see yourself as weird. I mean, I’m sure plenty of people think I’m weird, but I just see me as me. But the more I thought about it, the more weird things I came up with. Not sure if that’s a good or bad thing. So, here goes.

1. Like Mich, I like raw potatoes. I guess this is weird because no one else I know likes them this way. But with salt, wow, yummy. We eat other veggies raw, why not potatoes? Actually I like nearly every veggie better raw.

2. I apparently have synthensia. All of my senses mesh together. Colors and shapes have taste. Squares are red Jello, rectangles are blueberry, triangles are lemon. And now my tongue feels like it’s been poked by said shapes. I also see music in color. In fact, I have to see the music in order to hear it. That probably doesn’t make much sense, but I know when I’m really tired and I’m not seeing the music in my head, I can’t hear it either. I can hear the notes but they don’t make any sense to me.

3. Which leads me to weirdness no. 3. I’m not sure if this is the cause or not, but I had scarlet fever when I was 8. Remember, it’s what made Mary blind in Little House on the Prairie? Actually, I think it was On the Banks of Plum Creek. Anyhow, I think/know it’s affected some of my nerves. In particular my vestibular mechanism is messed up. This is a ‘thing’ (technical term, I know) in your middle ear that regulates stimulus. (This is at least how I understand it. I could be wrong, I’m not a doctor.) It’s part of why I hate any roller coaster that uses centrifugal force. Like a Ferris Wheel. Or a merry-go-round. I can’t even watch them. I lose my sense of my place in space and start vomiting. Also can’t see laser light shows. No great loss there. Additionally, it doesn’t filter out enough stimulus. In a room with a lot of people talking like a party or a writers conference, I can’t filter out the individual with whom I’m talking. I hear everyone’s conversation and get overwhelmed and start shutting down. It’s so hard for me to just try and focus on what the person I’m talking to is saying. I just try to say, “Hmm” a lot. So if I do that to you, don’t be offended.

4. My fingernails routinely turn purple . . . My toes do too, More gray actually.

5. Like Mich, I have a birthmark on my left wrist that’s a good barometer of my mood, changing from purple to red.

6. I could never be a pill popper because I gag on pills. And if you watch me take them, you might gag too. It’s awful. And I have to take five pills each morning. Luckily they’re small. Still.

I came up with more than six things. Not sure if all of these are weird or what, but here you go.


I like knowing the endings of movies, but I hate knowing them in books.

Almost every joint is double jointed. And I can crack just about every one of them too. I sound like a bowl of Rice Krispies in the morning.

I’ve had 6 concussions and I don’t play football.

I’m afraid of kites. Okay really, it’s just heights.

I’m also claustrophobic. I hate having a pillow anywhere near close to covering my head. I have to be firmly on top of it. I also hate having the sheets tight around my legs, like if someone sits on the bed while I’m in it. Like my kids. Guaranteed to make me freak out.

I hate being cold.

I’m not going to tag anyone because I know y’all are busy. But feel free to tag yourself and put in the comments here so we can all go to your site and laugh at your weirdness. Um, celebrate your uniqueness? Yeah, that’s it.

Where's Mike?

Mike Snyder is apparently hitting the publicity circuit early. Today and tomorrow you can find him over at Brandilyn Collins's blog, Forensics and Faith, where she interviews him. Given how off-the-wall his interview questions are, I can only imagine how his answers will be.

Infuze also has a blurb up about him.

Sigh. Must be nice.

I'm not jealous. Really.

PS--It's 25 today and it snowed here Sunday. Yep. It's true.

What I Did on My Christmas Vacation

Okay, probably one of my nonexistent New Year’s resolutions should be to blog more. And it’s not that I don’t have ideas to blog about—I do. I just keep running out of time to get to them. So here it is Saturday again, and I’m just getting around to posting.

I suppose my running-behind-schedule applies to more than just my blog. For instance, just yesterday I download the pictures of Christmas from my digital camera to my computer. Which reminded me of something we did over Christmas vacation. We went hiking.

In one of my posts last July I mentioned how much I like hiking. So over Christmas break, since Peter had the week between Christmas and New Year’s off, I wanted to do some hiking. There are some great trails in the local regional parks. And this time of year, with all the snowbirds and the bowl game attendees flocking to the Valley of the Sun, the Arizona Republic usually prints a list of things you can do to show visitors the real essence of Arizona. Frankly, I think you need to be here in July and burn your hand on the 200 degree handle of your car door to truly experience the essence of Arizona, but that’s just me.

Heedless of my opinion, the Republic published a list of some easy hikes in the local area. When I’m looking at hikes I have to remember I have little kids with little legs and accommodate accordingly. At South Mountain Park, one of the nation’s largest city park’s, I found one that looked promising and we were off.

Well, not quite. We had to replace little Calvin’s bike because the handlebars kept falling off. Then the kids wanted to see Night at the Museum. (A topic for another time perhaps. I liked it, they loved it, but I think there were a few missed opportunities, especially at the beginning to raise the stakes. Anyhow).

So after all that we get to the trail at about 4:30. It’s freezing, like 42 degrees, and it had been raining on and off all day. I start wondering about the wisdom of this, but I get so few opportunities to hike and the kids are looking forward to it. The weather looked okay so we decided to start off.

We were hiking to Fat Man’s Pass, an easy three mile round trip hike. I was thinking it got dark at 6 . . . 20 minutes a mile . . . we should be back at 5:30, plenty of time before it got dark.

Um, I miscalculated. Well, it didn’t help that I kept stopping to take pictures like this. Or that Calvin had to be carried by moi the last mile. Or that we kept jumping to the side of the trail to avoid being run over by mountain bikers (though to their credit they were all very nice). Or that it’s actually pitch black at 5:30.

Arizonans have a sense of humor in naming things. This is Fat Man’s Pass. See that slit in the middle? That’s what you have to skinny through or hike all the way around. The kids had fun getting through it. I could make it, and did there and back, but I’m claustrophobic and had to practice Lamaze breathing to not freak out at the rock walls pressing in on me, just waiting to crush the life out of me. This was a bit worse than the McDonald’s playland tube.

It had taken us 45 minutes to get here. The sun was behind the mountains and it was getting dark. I knew when we returned the last half mile of the trail hugged the side of the mountain and was rocky, strewn with chunks of granite. The clouds were rolling in. Did I also mention I’m night blind?

So we start double-timing it back. I’m trying to figure how we can cover 1.5 miles in the fifteen minutes of twilight we have left. We can’t.

Poor Calvin is worn out and shivering on Peter’s back. Sissy was trooper though, I was so proud of her. She never complained. We started running. Not easy to do on the rocky trail in the disappearing light. I felt more like a mountain goat hopping from rock to rock, helping Sissy over the tough areas and running full out in the sandy areas. The last mile was in blackness for me. I can’t see anything. Not the rocks, not the trail, not Peter and Calvin up ahead. I can see Sissy’s reflective sneakers and that’s all. She’s in front of me, and I’m stepping where she’s stepping, and praying I don’t break an ankle.

We made it back in twenty-five minutes. Safely. Our car was the only one left at the trailhead. The city lights, now visible, twinkled up at us breaking the sense of isolation that had followed us on the way back.

Too bad I had filled up the camera earlier with pictures so there wasn’t any room to take one of the city lights. We hopped in the car and turned on the heater and headed home, just as the rain started, thankful we hadn’t become a stupid hiker statistic.

Isn't this just the coolest thing?

Okay, I have a lot of other things to post about but it's been one of those weeks. In the meantime, drool over this, Apple's new iPhone. Now, it's waaaaaay out of my budget, but doesn't it just look so cool? It's almost like a mini Mac. I confess, I have a weakness for gadgets, especially ones that do really neat stuff. I loved watching the demonstrations of the various features. Very intuitive. Apple always does two things well: intuitiveness and style.

Maybe someday. Sigh.

Called to Write

Ah, I hadn’t really wanted to open up this can of worms, but since my friend, Heather, did, and I decided my response was too long for a blog comment, I decided to post here.

First of all, I don’t think there’s a right or wrong answer to this question. I don’t think all writers are “called” to write. I think you absolutely can be gifted and successful as a writer without it. I don’t think you have to be called to write to do it to the glory of God.

But I know without a shadow of a doubt I was called to write. I can remember the specific moment, the almost audible voice of God telling me to step out in faith and write. And I said no. For six years.

I’ve heard that voice of God in my heart each time He’s asked me to step out in faith. But the only time in my life He’s ever “called” me to something was to write. He didn’t call me to marry my husband, or give birth to my kids, or to be a stay-at-home mom, although I’ve done all those things with His favor and blessings, and I believe they were in His will for me.

One thing that I can compare it to in my life is singing. I love to sing. God’s given me some measure of talent and opened the doors to allow me to use this gift in ministry. And I love doing it. But it’s not the same as my calling to write. I can’t explain it other than that. It’s just different.

For me, the calling to write is to sit my butt in the chair. That’s basically it. The rest, like publication and success, is in His hands. And I also feel that if I’m not faithful to keep my butt in that chair I’m being disobedient.

But I would emphasize most of all, that all of this is very personal. My experience doesn’t mean it’s true for anyone else. Or should be. It’s just what God has told me to do.

Can people be called to other things, like plumbing? Sure. Why not? Does everyone have to be “called” to something? I don’t know. Maybe not. I think part of the difficulty is that calling and will and purpose are all interrelated but not the same things. While I don’t have the brain power right now to tease apart separate definitions, I think that may be one place to begin a discussion on this subject.

The Next Best Thing . . .

. . . to a contract of my own is my good friend and crit partner Michael Snyder getting one. He officially signed the contract with Zondervan and is now free to talk about his well-deserved publishing career.

Here's the official Publisher's Lunch notice.

Michael Snyder's MY NAME IS RUSSELL FINK, a romantic comedy written from a Christian worldview, about an artist trapped in the body of a copier salesman with a psychotic fiancee -- and someone has murdered his allegedly clairvoyant basset hound, to Andy Meisenheimer at Zondervan, in a nice deal, for two books, by Steve Laube of the Steve Laube Agency (world).

Mike talks about it here and here.

My Name is Russell Fink is a great book. I love all the permutations I've read, and I can't wait to see it on the bookstore shelves next fall so you all can read it too.

And, you know what? His second book is even better. Mike is an amazingly gifted writer, and it's a privilege and honor to be able to swap work with him.