Weekends, Weekends

I usually post on Mondays, but I'm having a hard time of it today. Frankly, I'm exhausted. I wonder if it has anything to do with the fact that in addition to working full time during the week, over the past four weekends I have attended:

• two conferences
  
• two fairs
  
• two mammoth shopping trips with friends
  
• a play written and directed by my brilliant niece, Kristi
  
• and a partridge in a pear tree.

No, wait. That last part isn't right. But the rest is. And with the exception of one of the fairs, all these events were out of town, ranging from Dallas, Texas to Savannah, Georgia plus a couple of trips to Atlanta.

You wouldn't believe the things I've seen during all this. A five-week-old baby zebra prancing through the crowd, leading folks to the petting zoo. Actors in pig costumes. Horse-drawn carriages circling the squares in Savannah, with moss dripping from the live oak trees. I should show you pictures of some of this, right? That would be lovely, except I didn't take any. Actually, I took one on my camera phone of the baby zebra--then got a new phone and left it on the old one. If I were trying to do this as a living or aiming to become a journalist, I'd be in serious trouble.

Kristi tried sending me some photos of her play, which I tried to use, but they kept turning out too dark. Sorry, Kristi! Oh well, she's doing so many things lately, I'll take lots of pictures next time. This girl amazes me. In addition to working and getting her degree in theater and film, she wrote, produced and directed a film last summer for a project called "The Woman's Angle," showcasing women directors in Atlanta. Check out this review of her film called Changing Baby. Last weekend she performed at a story-telling festival, and that was a couple of weeks after the play she directed. I was about to brag that she got all this creative energy from her old Aunt Robin--but I'm having trouble just writing this blog post.

Last weekend I made a trip up to Atlanta to meet Kathleen, with whom I became acquainted through this blog. Other than the fact that I got lost on the way up, I had a great time. Since we're both serious bargain hunters, she took me on a tour of fabric outlets, used bookstores, and thrift shops. Of course I came home with another stack of fabric I have no time to sew.

Kathleen also gave me a goody bag that blew me away. She obviously has picked up on all my interests from this blog, because it featured just about all of them. She handmade a tote bag for me that is simply amazing--featuring a pieced parrot and a parrot pin (because of my infamous picture in which I am covered with parrots). Inside were Pirates of the Caribbean soaps, vintage-looking point protectors for my knitting needles, a toile note pad, and more parrot goodies. Since I still have the tote bag and all the goodies in my possession, maybe I can actually manage to show those to you:

I'm rather partial to the "Swashbuckler Soap," myself.

Kathleen also invited me to come for a sewing get-together sometime, but after seeing how good she is, hmmm. Maybe I better stick to buying the fabric and dreaming.

Win an Autographed Copy of Demon: A Memoir

I briefly met Tosca Lee, author of Demon: A Memoir, at the ACFW conference in Dallas. I actually started up a conversation with her before I realized who she was, because I had to complement her very chic outfit. I'd love to have those boots she was wearing! But then, she was Mrs. Nebraska, so she obviously knows a thing or two about style.

I reminded her I wrote a review of her book for Novel Reviews awhile back (April 19, to be exact), and she actually remembered it. After we chatted, she graciously autographed a copy of Demon for me. Since I already have a copy, I decided to pass this one on to you.

By the way, in case you're thinking from the title that this is a horror novel and don't care for those, think again. It does have scary moments, but it's really a sort of spiritual history of the world and humankind, as a demon tells his story to a man who he hopes will write his biography. We see the angels and Lucifer before they fell, the creation of man (pitiful mud creatures as he calls them), their fall and redemption. If you want to know more, you can check out my review.

If you'd like to receive this autographed copy of the novel, leave a comment before next Friday, when I'll announce the winner.

Have a great weekend!

Elizabeth Musser on the Ups and Downs of Writing and Life

Today's guest blogger is author Elizabeth Musser, who has some great thoughts to share about perseverance--in writing and in life. I won't give much more of an intro, since I did that Monday. If you missed that post, be sure to take a look at it. I shared some information there about how I came to know Elizabeth, and about her new book, Searching for Eternity. Here's Elizabeth:



Recently I received a short email from my agent: “I’ve struck out with every publisher on your novel….”

I’ve been writing novels for 13 years now. I’ve known that amazing thrill when the publisher asks, “How would you like to write a book?” and I’ve known the terrible disappointment when he says, “Your numbers just aren’t good enough. We’re taking the book off the market.” I’ve collected rejection slips as well as readers’ glowing letters, I’ve signed books at a crowded church event, and I’ve sat alone at a table at the front of a bookstore where no one stopped by to buy my book.

Ups and downs, ups and downs. It reminds me of learning to post on a pony. At the beginning, the rider just can’t seem to get it write—excuse me—right. But eventually, instead of bouncing all over the saddle and getting very sore buns, she learns the rhythm of the pony, and she posts up and down, up and down, almost automatically.

I wish it were that easy in my career. At times I find myself on a crazy wild stallion who is galloping uncontrolled into the wilderness with me holding on for dear life. My emotions go all over the place. One minute I’m excited about a new idea for a story or thrilled with the progress I’ve made on a chapter, the next I want to give it all up and hide my head in the sand, not with the horses but the ostriches.

For me, perseverance is a lot about knowing what to care about. Over the years, one of the blessings of persevering has been learning how not to care. Yes, I care about writing the best book I can, I care about doing careful research, and I care about communicating well with my publisher and agent and readers.

But there are things I have to force myself not to care about: the list of best sellers when my book is not among them; the review of my book that is less than stellar; the sales that sag; the rejection, again and again and again of a manuscript. These details are part of the writer’s life, but if I am not careful, the negative things can drown out the joy of writing and can almost paralyze me.

That’s why I find myself going before the Lord on my knees and asking Him to help me make wise decisions. How much time do I spend on marketing, how much money on conferences and books, how many websites do I visit? Often, for me, I simply need to write. I don’t need more information, especially since it changes every day in our cyber friendly world. I need to do my part. Write.

Over the years, I’ve developed a battle plan. I protect the time I have to write by not answering the phone, by refusing to look at the emails first, by telling my friends that I am not free in the mornings because I am writing. I’ve learned that instead of staring at a blank page, it is helpful to get up, stretch, and take a walk. Let the inspiration come through nature. In short, I do my part, I work hard, I entrust this fragile career into the hands of the Greatest Publicist in the galaxy, and I wait. This is hard.

I also have a few trusted friends who will tell me the truth when I am discouraged. They remind me of my calling, and they encourage me to seek God and keep going. I have learned to hold my career lightly, being ready to give it up if God calls me into something else.

So far, each time I have offered it back to Him, He has clearly shown me that for now I am to keep going. Persevere. On the good days when the words flow and on the bad days when I feel stuck. On the days when an email brings good news and on the days when a phone call destroys my self-confidence.

When people ask me what suggestions I have for the aspiring writer, I say ‘write, write, write and pray, pray, pray.’ This is what I do. I cannot not write. I keep going. And I pray. Long, long ago, God planted a seed in my heart, a desire to sprout a book. As with all of God’s creations, He chooses to let us spend time underground, developing roots, tenaciously grabbing the soil until one day, we are ready to push our head out and offer up our creation to Him. As I do this, each morning, I am reminded of why I write. I write because the Word became flesh and spoke to my heart. In my small way, I want my words to reflect His Word and call others into the wild ride of life in Christ. A trot on a pony, a gallop on a stallion, a pause to sip cool water by a stream. Persevere.

Elizabeth Goldsmith Musser, October, 2007
www.elizabeth.musser.com

A Wonderful Writer--And Friend

Sometimes when I hear other writers talking about their mentors, I get a little jealous. How did they manage to find these talented, successful writers, and convince them to be their mentors? Why doesn't anyone want to be my mentor?

Then I realize, I have a wonderful mentor in Elizabeth Musser. I just never called her that until a couple of minutes ago.

I first became aware of Elizabeth and her books when I was living in a suburb of Atlanta a few years ago. Dave and I attended church with Elizabeth's sister-in-law Janet and her family. During a gathering of our two families one evening, Janet told us about her talented sister-in-law, and next thing I knew, I was flying through the pages of Elizabeth's two historical novels about the Algerian War for Independence from France: Two Crosses and Two Testaments. Back then, I didn't particularly enjoy Christian fiction. A lot of it seemed too sweet and simplistic. Elizabeth's writing was more complex and edgy. She wasn't afraid to tackle difficult subjects. Her work started me thinking about trying to write for the Christian market again--something I had tried before and given up on.

I couldn't easily meet Elizabeth face to face at that time, since she was (and still is) living in France, where she and her husband are missionaries. So I emailed her, and we started up a correspondence. Eventually I got to meet her when she visited family in Atlanta and had a book signing.

I can't begin to describe how gracious Elizabeth has been to me. She's read one of my manuscripts and offered advice. She's encouraged me when my spirits are flagging. Last year she was able to attend the ACFW conference, and I had such a blast hanging out with her. I've told you all what an introvert I am. Elizabeth would pull me over to someone and say, "You need to talk to this girl. I've read her book. It's wonderful." Or words to that effect. I have to say, it's much easier to talk to someone about your novel after an intro like that!

Okay, so why am I bringing this up now? First because Elizabeth has a new book coming out this week. I'm going to read it and review it here and eventually share a copy with y'all, but right now I've only read the first chapter myself. It's called Searching for Eternity, and here's what it's about: "Following his father’s dubious disappearance, adolescent Emile de Bonnery is forced to leave his native France for Atlanta, Georgia, never suspecting what awaits him in the South of 1964—culture shock, racism, and friendship with a strange girl named Eternity Jones. He brings with him to America an odd collection of ‘treasures’ used by his father during the French Resistance. With the aid of these ‘treasures’, Emile and Eternity find themselves on a journey through abuse, betrayal and prejudice which will ultimately lead them into a spiritual quest for healing. Spanning four decades, their journey unfolds like a spy story and its conclusion shows what happens in the midst of complex human relationships when an adolescent goes searching for eternity."

I also wanted to let you know that Elizabeth will be doing a guest blog this Wednesday. Even though Elizabeth is a successful author, she has shown me that everyone hits obstacles and rough spots. We unpublished souls are not the only ones who face doubt, who experience disappointment and goals that just can't seem to be accomplished. Wednesday she's going to be telling us about some of those experiences, and what God has shown her through them.

I know she'll inspire you--the way she always inspires me.

In the meantime, if you'd like to know more about Elizabeth and her books, you can visit her website at http://www.elizabethmusser.com/. (The photo at the top is of Elizabeth at ICRS in Atlanta this past summer, with a poster of her upcoming book.)

Yours, Mine, and Ours

I noticed something recently. Whenever I talk about writing, even when I pray about it, I refer to it as “my writing.”

You may not think there’s anything odd about that. It started to jar on me, though, because I’ve tried so hard to give my writing—see, there I go again!—to God. I want it to be whatever He wants it to be. And I’ve tried very hard to turn over to Him all my dreams of publication, too. So why is it still “mine.”

For the past few days, especially when I pray, I’ve tried very hard to call it “your writing.” It’s amazing what a difference that makes in the way I think, in the way I feel. As a writer, I should know the power of words, right? But sometimes I’m still amazed.

See, I’ve always had trouble believing that God cares all that much about what I write. I’ve never had that problem in any other area of my life, but somehow I’ve always felt that I came up with this dream of being a novelist, and I invented these characters that I love, but that God somehow thinks it’s all silly and petty.

But once I’ve given it to him, it seems different. If it belongs to him, it’s his responsibility, too. He’ll make a way for it to succeed, or he’ll decide if that shouldn’t happen. He’ll give me the energy and the time to do his writing, as long as I’m willing to cooperate. I even started to think that he loves my characters as much as I do!

Now for the Ridiculous and Embarrassing

Before I completely move away from the subject of the ACFW conference I attended a couple of weeks ago, I have to tell you a little bit about the fun I had on the way to Dallas. (Yes, that was sarcasm.) You knew I couldn’t go all the way from Atlanta to Dallas without a few misadventures, right?

If you recall, I left for the conference right after the incident of the frog in the night. My critter adventures continued when I got to the Atlanta airport. I had about half an hour until my flight started boarding. I found a great seat with a view of the planes taking off and landing, and plenty of room to stretch out and relax. For about two minutes.

A gaggle of teenagers suddenly appeared and plopped down all around me. They were sort of loud, but that wasn’t the problem. A couple of them started squealing and giggling and pointing under a seat across from me. One of them yelled down to the others, “Look! A mouse!”

Sure enough, a mouse was running back and forth under a seat across from my purse and my toes. I wondered if he was actually a pet mouse that someone had dumped, because he seemed hysterical. I didn’t wait long enough to think all that much about his roots, however, because he kept shooting toward my ankles. I decided to relocate myself before I got to know him any better.

Things went pretty smoothly for awhile after that, until right after I got into the Marriott Quorum. That’s when I realized I’d left my book in the seat back on the plane. It wasn’t just any book, either. Remember me telling you about getting a book called Insulin Murders through Interlibrary Loan at my library? It took me a long time to get up the nerve to request the book from our ILL staff person, because it sounded like such a weird thing to be interested in (you fellow writers out there will understand). Now I had to call up the airline and ask if they’d found it.

The customer service guy on the phone was very nice. Then the moment came. He asked the title of the book. I told him. His response: “Ha ha ha….okaaaaay.” For 30 minutes he tried to track down my book. The folks at DFW said they didn’t have it. The plane had returned to Atlanta by then, and he couldn’t get anyone at the gate on the phone. I finally decided I would check in person in Atlanta when I got back the next Sunday.

So I walk up to the woman at the airline’s lost and found. She asks for the name of the book. I tell her. She looks at me blankly. “What was that?” I tell her again. “Okaaaaaay.” She couldn’t find it, of course. I went through all that for nothing. Or actually, less than nothing. I actually ended up worse off than when I started. Somehow, while trudging around the airport looking for my book, I lost my sweater.

And now I get to tell the ILL person at work that I—a librarian, a guardian of books—lost that weird book she ordered for me. I’ll have to pay for it, of course. I’m beginning to wish I had just done that to begin with.

Contest Winner!

After spending what felt like forever cutting up little scraps of paper with names, I now have a winner for the drawing. And the winner is...Brittany J., a subscriber and frequent commentor. Congratulations, Brittany, and thanks for reading the blog.

As for everyone else, thanks so much for participating. Be sure to stick around. More giveaways will be coming soon.