Finally got my partial ready for the GH. I'm really excited about this book. God bless Nancy for sticking with me and not screaming over all the changes she's had to suggest.
Now I'm ready to do some power writing to get the book finished. I have about 50 days to write another 65,000 words or so. That's an average of 5 pages a day, which is what I've been doing so far. I need to get in a few 10 page days so I have some breathing space to get through birthdays and Thanksgiving, but that should be doable.
Anyone else trying to get something new ready for the GH?
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Scam of the Day
If you've thought about buying on Half.com, let me give you one word of warning: DON'T! I lost nearly $50 there on a book I'd ordered for my oldest son's birthday--nearly $100 if you consider the fact that I had to buy a second copy elsewhere.
My youngest son is about to lose well over $100 on textbooks he'd ordered for school.
The way the scam artists on Half.com work is that the policies are set up in such a way that by the time you follow the proper steps, it's too late to get the charges reversed by the credit card company. And if you pay by debit card, like I did, then you're SOL because the debit card charges won't be refunded.
If my son doesn't get his money back, you're going to hear me scream all the way to court. He's a hard-working honors student, struggling to get by, and he doesn't deserve this. Just so some scum bag can make a few stolen bucks.
The only way to stop them is to get the word out. Either Half.com changes its policies, or people quit using the site.
My youngest son is about to lose well over $100 on textbooks he'd ordered for school.
The way the scam artists on Half.com work is that the policies are set up in such a way that by the time you follow the proper steps, it's too late to get the charges reversed by the credit card company. And if you pay by debit card, like I did, then you're SOL because the debit card charges won't be refunded.
If my son doesn't get his money back, you're going to hear me scream all the way to court. He's a hard-working honors student, struggling to get by, and he doesn't deserve this. Just so some scum bag can make a few stolen bucks.
The only way to stop them is to get the word out. Either Half.com changes its policies, or people quit using the site.
Nitwit? Or Downright Criminal?
Read the article and decide for yourself. This might be in the UK rather than the US, but this kind of behavior shouldn't be allowed anywhere. And the reporter says the firms are investigating. What about a criminal investigation? Criminal charges? Why aren't these men being punished?
More Nitwits
We're being trained to call the cops every time someone does something we don't think is right or don't like. But the ladies of the Cat Protection division of an animal welfare charity are probably carrying things a bit too far.
But then again, you can never be too careful. A teenager who would allow one flea (yes, just one), on the cat he'd recently adopted--well, who knows what such a kid might do? The fact that he'd chosen to adopt an abandoned kitten has nothing to do with it. He allowed a flea, and he must be stopped! By brute force, if necessary. Therefore two burly cops accompanied the ladies when they returned to the boy's home to repossess the cat.
I think we should send an entire armed troop to the ladies' homes and have their pets checked.
But then again, you can never be too careful. A teenager who would allow one flea (yes, just one), on the cat he'd recently adopted--well, who knows what such a kid might do? The fact that he'd chosen to adopt an abandoned kitten has nothing to do with it. He allowed a flea, and he must be stopped! By brute force, if necessary. Therefore two burly cops accompanied the ladies when they returned to the boy's home to repossess the cat.
I think we should send an entire armed troop to the ladies' homes and have their pets checked.
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Progress Update
Since I teamed up with a friend a week ago to write and revise 5 pages per day, I've written 35 pages, revised those same 35, and critiqued 35 for her. It's been hard, I've wanted to whine, make excuses, anything to keep from writing, but I've sucked it up and gotten it done.Better yet, I actually have an idea where this book is going instead of heading into dark waters with no life jacket.Whether it's any good or not, I have no idea. I can't judge my own work. It's kind of romantic suspense (light on romance) with a paranormal bent to it. Deciding which category to enter in the GH should be interesting.
So what are you working on? How do you make yourself get the pages done when you're tired and other responsibilities crowd you from every side?
So what are you working on? How do you make yourself get the pages done when you're tired and other responsibilities crowd you from every side?
Nitwit of the Day #3
Not just this school district, but all of them. I'm so tired of hearing about kids suspended for 10 days for a water gun (especially the little guys. Teenagers should get a butt paddling or 3 day suspension). Or the kids who get kicked out for wearing a T-shirt that says they love God or that abortion should be banned. Kids have a need to express themselves--as we all do. Since when did it become against the law to have an opinion? You can actually find yourself in jail for speaking out against sin or for speaking up for your beliefs. I guess it could be worse. In the Middle East you can get your head cut off for it.
But I thought we lived in a free country. At least, we used to. The last 5 years our thinking/government has taken a turn down a very scary road.
But I thought we lived in a free country. At least, we used to. The last 5 years our thinking/government has taken a turn down a very scary road.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Nitwit of the Day #2
You have to wonder about some parents. Cheerleading moms, soccer dads, and now a father who spies on a rival team so his son can score more passing yards. Yeah, that should impress any college who might have wanted to recruit his son.
What are you teaching your children? Do you teach them respect for rules and respect for others, or do you teach them that getting ahead at any cost is the right way to go? What about with your writing? Do you teach them to respect your dreams, your creative process by setting rules about interrupting you during your writing time? Or do you drop everything at the first whine and go do what they want?
I think it was Nora Roberts who said if it didn't involve blood, she didn't want to hear about it until the writing was done. (Don't quote me on that) But at some point, your kids have to learn that while they matter, so do you. You have goals, dreams, and a need to create. Yes, you love them, yes you want them to succeed, but they should return those same feelings to you.
Forget scouting the other team. Forget what everyone else is writing (yes, it sounds so much more brilliant than your idea. So what?) Forget that people are selling all around you and you're still waiting. Forget that you haven't heard diddly squat from the editor who's had your manuscript for over a year, or from the agent who's had a partial for 18 months. They don't matter! What matters is getting the words on the page, training your muse to be there when you sit down to write, and finishing that book. What matters is you.
What are you teaching your children? Do you teach them respect for rules and respect for others, or do you teach them that getting ahead at any cost is the right way to go? What about with your writing? Do you teach them to respect your dreams, your creative process by setting rules about interrupting you during your writing time? Or do you drop everything at the first whine and go do what they want?
I think it was Nora Roberts who said if it didn't involve blood, she didn't want to hear about it until the writing was done. (Don't quote me on that) But at some point, your kids have to learn that while they matter, so do you. You have goals, dreams, and a need to create. Yes, you love them, yes you want them to succeed, but they should return those same feelings to you.
Forget scouting the other team. Forget what everyone else is writing (yes, it sounds so much more brilliant than your idea. So what?) Forget that people are selling all around you and you're still waiting. Forget that you haven't heard diddly squat from the editor who's had your manuscript for over a year, or from the agent who's had a partial for 18 months. They don't matter! What matters is getting the words on the page, training your muse to be there when you sit down to write, and finishing that book. What matters is you.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Nitwit of the Day
I think I may start a Nitwit of the Day thing here on my blog. Or not. There sure are plenty of them out there, including this judge who just made it illegal for the public to boat, fish, hunt waterfowl, etc. on public waterways. Yep. That fishing tournament your husband is signed up for, the one that cost a bundle and that you were looking forward to so you'd have 3 days alone to write? It's now illegal. Whoops.
Click on the link above to read all about it.
Click on the link above to read all about it.
Sunday, September 17, 2006
Ding-Dong! Avon Calling
No, I probably won't be showing up on your doorstep unless you live near me, but I'm now officially an Avon Representative with my very own Avon website.
After missing the last two RWA National conferences because I couldn't justify stretching our already stretched finances, I decided I needed a way to earn some money of my own until I start selling my manuscripts. If you're looking for Christmas gifts, stocking stuffers, makeup, jewelry, or any other of the myriad products Avon sells, check out my new Avon website at http://ppayne.avonrepresentative.com/ If you'll register on the site (free), you can browse the online catalog, place an order online, get free shipping, and have the items delivered directly to your door.
And in the process, help a deserving author get to Nationals. (Okay, sorry, couldn't resist)
In other news, I've teamed up with a friend to write and critique 5 pages per day from now until the GH deadline (if she can stand me that long). So far, so good. She's been a tremendous help and I've been getting my pages done. I hope I'm helping her in return.
After missing the last two RWA National conferences because I couldn't justify stretching our already stretched finances, I decided I needed a way to earn some money of my own until I start selling my manuscripts. If you're looking for Christmas gifts, stocking stuffers, makeup, jewelry, or any other of the myriad products Avon sells, check out my new Avon website at http://ppayne.avonrepresentative.com/ If you'll register on the site (free), you can browse the online catalog, place an order online, get free shipping, and have the items delivered directly to your door.
And in the process, help a deserving author get to Nationals.
In other news, I've teamed up with a friend to write and critique 5 pages per day from now until the GH deadline (if she can stand me that long). So far, so good. She's been a tremendous help and I've been getting my pages done. I hope I'm helping her in return.
Monday, September 11, 2006
Remembering....
Has it really been five years? Seems like only months ago when the greatest single tragedy to hit this country happened.
I was at home when the first plane hit. My husband was on a concrete job in Dallas. When I heard the news, I turned on the TV. It was after the second tower was hit, before the Pentagon. By the time that plane had gone down in Pennsylvania, I was in the car, racing to Dallas to pick up my daughter because I was terrified an attack would happen here as well. Mostly I think I just wanted my family close by. I kept her out of school for two days before I finally took her back. When I got home from picking her up, I sat down at the computer and wrote a poem that ended up being published in the local paper, surrounded by names of dozens of businesses who had paid $10 each to have their name there.
It took me a long time to feel "safe" again. The lack of planes in the sky really shook me, as did the sound of planes once they were allowed back. I still feel for those who lost loved ones that day, for the children who lost their innocence. I've posted a copy of that poem below. No, it wasn't particularly good, but it was fueled by the emotion of the moment.
Freedom 911
A moment forever frozen in time
In all of our hearts and all of our minds
As we watched with horror what a few evil men
Can do with hatred and evil intent.
So many emotions filled us that day
Stunned disbelief, anguish, anger, and pain.
Our minds as clouded as New York's city streets
We could only pray and tremble and weep.
We waited for news of loved ones so dear
And listened to stories of bravery and fear.
We cried with the mothers and fathers and wives
We grieve for the children who want to know why.
How can we answer their questions when we,
as adults never dreamed how evil mankind could be?
So we hold our own close, so glad they are safe
And ask God to surround them with angels each day.
Then we lift our heads high and stand firm and tall
As we proclaim to the world that our country won't fall.
We stand united, red, black, white and brown.
And say you can't keep America down.
We'll see these men punished for what they have done,
No stone left unturned till we've found every one.
We'll pray for our soldiers as they fight and they win,
Then we'll put it behind us and build once again.
But we'll never forget the ones who were lost
in airplanes and buildings, we've counted the cost.
We'll mourn and grieve the heroes once more,
and emerge even stronger than ever before.
God bless America, this land of the free
May you always reign righteous and always believe
In the Almighty God who holds us upright
And ever continue, for our freedom, to fight.
Pamela J. Payne
September 11, 2001
I was at home when the first plane hit. My husband was on a concrete job in Dallas. When I heard the news, I turned on the TV. It was after the second tower was hit, before the Pentagon. By the time that plane had gone down in Pennsylvania, I was in the car, racing to Dallas to pick up my daughter because I was terrified an attack would happen here as well. Mostly I think I just wanted my family close by. I kept her out of school for two days before I finally took her back. When I got home from picking her up, I sat down at the computer and wrote a poem that ended up being published in the local paper, surrounded by names of dozens of businesses who had paid $10 each to have their name there.
It took me a long time to feel "safe" again. The lack of planes in the sky really shook me, as did the sound of planes once they were allowed back. I still feel for those who lost loved ones that day, for the children who lost their innocence. I've posted a copy of that poem below. No, it wasn't particularly good, but it was fueled by the emotion of the moment.
Freedom 911
A moment forever frozen in time
In all of our hearts and all of our minds
As we watched with horror what a few evil men
Can do with hatred and evil intent.
So many emotions filled us that day
Stunned disbelief, anguish, anger, and pain.
Our minds as clouded as New York's city streets
We could only pray and tremble and weep.
We waited for news of loved ones so dear
And listened to stories of bravery and fear.
We cried with the mothers and fathers and wives
We grieve for the children who want to know why.
How can we answer their questions when we,
as adults never dreamed how evil mankind could be?
So we hold our own close, so glad they are safe
And ask God to surround them with angels each day.
Then we lift our heads high and stand firm and tall
As we proclaim to the world that our country won't fall.
We stand united, red, black, white and brown.
And say you can't keep America down.
We'll see these men punished for what they have done,
No stone left unturned till we've found every one.
We'll pray for our soldiers as they fight and they win,
Then we'll put it behind us and build once again.
But we'll never forget the ones who were lost
in airplanes and buildings, we've counted the cost.
We'll mourn and grieve the heroes once more,
and emerge even stronger than ever before.
God bless America, this land of the free
May you always reign righteous and always believe
In the Almighty God who holds us upright
And ever continue, for our freedom, to fight.
Pamela J. Payne
September 11, 2001
Monday, September 04, 2006
What makes a good mother?
On one of my lists, we've been talking about whether or not we were/are good mothers. We've discovered that none of us lived up to our own expectations.
I always thought, growing up, that I’d be a great mother. I was wrong. I didn’t spend my days down on the floor playing CandyLand or Barbie with my daughters, or Battleship with my sons.
Well, okay, I did once in a while, but in my mind a great mother would do this all day, every day. And somehow, along the way, she would keep the house spotless, the laundry washed, dried, folded, and put away. Dinner would be on the table at six on the dot, perfectly cooked, perfectly balanced nutritionally. The kids would get baths every night and would go straight to bed with no fuss after the perfect mother read them two bedtime stories. And she would never, ever forget to make them brush their teeth.
That my children’s teeth have fillings is a silent testimony to the fact that I wasn’t a great mother. Somehow, in spite of my less-than-perfect mothering, the kids turned out all right. Except for the baby, of course, who is totally gorgeous, exceptionally smart, independent, caring---and thinks it will take the rest of her life in therapy to undo the damage I did. I look at her and think, if I’d had half the strength of character she has at that age, there’s no telling what I might have accomplished.
My kids deserved better. But then I stop and think. Did it ever occur to them that maybe mom yelled because she was stressed because they all had things they needed me to do, and that there were three other children and a husband who had their own demands and expectations, and I was trying my damnedest to hold it all together, and there were times when I felt like I was being pulled apart, like I was going to split into a half-dozen pieces?
And on top of my children’s problems I kept trying to solve, I had my own problems. I’d had a bout with cancer that made me worry and fret until I descended into depression no one else recognized. Then my father came down with lung cancer and the depression deepened. He passed away, and I felt like I'd lost my anchor. It was at the worst possible time for my youngest kids. They needed their mother, and she didn't have enough emotional fortitude to pull herself out of the mire to meet their emotional needs. All I wanted was for the world to go away and leave me alone.
So, does all that make me a bad mother? I never sold my kids into prostitution like some mothers have. I didn't scald them in the bath, beat them senseless, starve them in a closet. I did try to make sure they went to good schools, tried my best to keep them safe, instilled in them a love of reading, tried to control their television exposure as much as I could. I took them to church (at least until the depression got too bad), even started my own Christian school to give them the best start in life that I could. When they were little I worked at jobs where they could be with me instead of establishing myself in a career that would have kept my husband and I out of the mess we're in now. I loved them more than life itself and at any point would have given up my life for theirs if necessary.
I've prayed for each of them since before they were born. No, they haven't always made the right choices, but they've always known that the choice they were about to make might not be the best one. And when they made the wrong choice, they fixed it. They backed up and started over, sometimes at great personal and emotional cost.
Yes, I have a lot of regrets. I regret not spending enough one on one time with them when I had the chance. I regret not listening when they needed me to listen, not give advice. I regret missed opportunities. But I don't regret the people they have come to be. They're wonderful, bright, witty, mature men and women. None have ever been in jail, they aren't thieves or drug addicts, they respect others, they study hard and do well in school.
So was I great mother? Maybe not, but that's what we decided on the lists. We might not have been the best mothers, but we did our best with what we had to work with, and the kids turned out all right.
I always thought, growing up, that I’d be a great mother. I was wrong. I didn’t spend my days down on the floor playing CandyLand or Barbie with my daughters, or Battleship with my sons.
Well, okay, I did once in a while, but in my mind a great mother would do this all day, every day. And somehow, along the way, she would keep the house spotless, the laundry washed, dried, folded, and put away. Dinner would be on the table at six on the dot, perfectly cooked, perfectly balanced nutritionally. The kids would get baths every night and would go straight to bed with no fuss after the perfect mother read them two bedtime stories. And she would never, ever forget to make them brush their teeth.
That my children’s teeth have fillings is a silent testimony to the fact that I wasn’t a great mother. Somehow, in spite of my less-than-perfect mothering, the kids turned out all right. Except for the baby, of course, who is totally gorgeous, exceptionally smart, independent, caring---and thinks it will take the rest of her life in therapy to undo the damage I did. I look at her and think, if I’d had half the strength of character she has at that age, there’s no telling what I might have accomplished.
My kids deserved better. But then I stop and think. Did it ever occur to them that maybe mom yelled because she was stressed because they all had things they needed me to do, and that there were three other children and a husband who had their own demands and expectations, and I was trying my damnedest to hold it all together, and there were times when I felt like I was being pulled apart, like I was going to split into a half-dozen pieces?
And on top of my children’s problems I kept trying to solve, I had my own problems. I’d had a bout with cancer that made me worry and fret until I descended into depression no one else recognized. Then my father came down with lung cancer and the depression deepened. He passed away, and I felt like I'd lost my anchor. It was at the worst possible time for my youngest kids. They needed their mother, and she didn't have enough emotional fortitude to pull herself out of the mire to meet their emotional needs. All I wanted was for the world to go away and leave me alone.
So, does all that make me a bad mother? I never sold my kids into prostitution like some mothers have. I didn't scald them in the bath, beat them senseless, starve them in a closet. I did try to make sure they went to good schools, tried my best to keep them safe, instilled in them a love of reading, tried to control their television exposure as much as I could. I took them to church (at least until the depression got too bad), even started my own Christian school to give them the best start in life that I could. When they were little I worked at jobs where they could be with me instead of establishing myself in a career that would have kept my husband and I out of the mess we're in now. I loved them more than life itself and at any point would have given up my life for theirs if necessary.
I've prayed for each of them since before they were born. No, they haven't always made the right choices, but they've always known that the choice they were about to make might not be the best one. And when they made the wrong choice, they fixed it. They backed up and started over, sometimes at great personal and emotional cost.
Yes, I have a lot of regrets. I regret not spending enough one on one time with them when I had the chance. I regret not listening when they needed me to listen, not give advice. I regret missed opportunities. But I don't regret the people they have come to be. They're wonderful, bright, witty, mature men and women. None have ever been in jail, they aren't thieves or drug addicts, they respect others, they study hard and do well in school.
So was I great mother? Maybe not, but that's what we decided on the lists. We might not have been the best mothers, but we did our best with what we had to work with, and the kids turned out all right.
Sunday, August 27, 2006
Rules are Made to be Broken
How many times has a critique partner told you, "You can't do that?" Or "You need to get rid of every word ending in 'ing'." Or you've heard on a writer's loop somewhere that historicals are dead, cowboys are passe, you can't have a heroine who commits a crime, intentional or not (I actually had an editor tell me that once.) Then you pick up a new novel and on the freshly printed page is--horrors!--a heroine on her way to jail for committing a crime. (Unintentionally of course, and she's exonerated in the end, as mine is).
I've been doing a lot of reading lately. You know what I've found? I don't notice the word was. This is a biggie, because I get dinged for it a lot. Yes, I try to find other ways to say things, but sometimes was is the only word that works. (And no, I'm not referring to the most recent critique where a very kind author pointed out the tremendous overuse of was in an old ms. I have learned a few things. :) I also don't notice the use of adverbs, unless the story itself doesn't hold my attention. What I do notice is rambling thoughts, stilted dialogue, stupid heroines or unbelieveable plots.
Tell a good story, and I'll forgive you anything. So please, quit editing the life out of your book and just write it so I can read it.
I've been doing a lot of reading lately. You know what I've found? I don't notice the word was. This is a biggie, because I get dinged for it a lot. Yes, I try to find other ways to say things, but sometimes was is the only word that works. (And no, I'm not referring to the most recent critique where a very kind author pointed out the tremendous overuse of was in an old ms. I have learned a few things. :) I also don't notice the use of adverbs, unless the story itself doesn't hold my attention. What I do notice is rambling thoughts, stilted dialogue, stupid heroines or unbelieveable plots.
Tell a good story, and I'll forgive you anything. So please, quit editing the life out of your book and just write it so I can read it.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Rain? Oh please!!
It's cloudy, I hear thunder in the distance, and it smells like rain. We're in the worst drought in recent memory, so please help us pray for rain. Not just an inch, though we'd take it. We need a good 6 inch rain to fill the ponds and bring the grass back to life. The cows and I would really appreciate it.
In other news--for a change, there isn't much. Which means I have no current crisis going on in my life, so I'm writing for all I'm worth. Youngest daughter is safely back at college, second youngest son goes back to college on Thursday, and other than my romance chapter meeting on Saturday, I have nothing crowding my schedule besides the ongoing job hunt. This is the first time in months and months that I've had any free time. I have 4 writing projects going at once. If I get stuck on one, I switch to another while ideas percolate on the first. If I get bored, I switch to the third. But I do have goals in mind. I want to finish two of these in time for the Golden Heart. That's only a few weeks away (Yikes!) The other two I want to have finished by the end of the year.
One of these projects is just in beginning pages form right now. It's different from anything I've tried before, so I have no idea how it will go. I'm just trying to stretch myself by writing outside my comfort zone. I figured I'd better do it now while I have the freedom to pick and choose my projects. (IE, while I'm still unpublished.)
In other news--for a change, there isn't much. Which means I have no current crisis going on in my life, so I'm writing for all I'm worth. Youngest daughter is safely back at college, second youngest son goes back to college on Thursday, and other than my romance chapter meeting on Saturday, I have nothing crowding my schedule besides the ongoing job hunt. This is the first time in months and months that I've had any free time. I have 4 writing projects going at once. If I get stuck on one, I switch to another while ideas percolate on the first. If I get bored, I switch to the third. But I do have goals in mind. I want to finish two of these in time for the Golden Heart. That's only a few weeks away (Yikes!) The other two I want to have finished by the end of the year.
One of these projects is just in beginning pages form right now. It's different from anything I've tried before, so I have no idea how it will go. I'm just trying to stretch myself by writing outside my comfort zone. I figured I'd better do it now while I have the freedom to pick and choose my projects. (IE, while I'm still unpublished.)
Friday, August 18, 2006
The "New" Car
I was cruising Craigslist the other day, looking for a car for my youngest son, hoping to find someone who wanted to trade a decent car for his truck. Found a guy with a 1990 Subaru Legacy that had a blown head gasket who only wanted $600 for it, or was willing to trade for something else. We had a gas scooter that we'd never been able to sell at the flea market and he agreed to the trade. DH has been working on the car and it runs great, has a brand new MP3/CD player and speakers, new tires, new paint. I think we got a pretty good deal.
Trouble is, dh wants to keep it instead of letting our son have it. So now I have to start looking for another car.
Sunday, August 13, 2006
I Believe in Miracles part 2
I might believe in miracles, but I still don't trust Blogger not to eat my post so I broke that first lost message into two parts. I've forgotten what I wrote after GeeBee's good news, except the part about writers being solitary beings, by necessity, but coming together through the internet to form communities like the Bat Cave and the Wet Noodle Posse, becoming friends, rallying around each other when encouragement and support is needed.
If you don't have a community of support, find one. It's vital to have friends you can count on to pray when prayer is needed, to have people you can share the joys and trials of life with. Breaking in can be hard, but I've learned that the way to become part of an online community is to post, and post often, until you become familiar to the others. Getting through my father-in-law's death, my mother's stroke, and my daughter's blood clot crises would have been much harder if not for my online support system.
And just for GeeBee, because it touched home at this particular time:
7 Wonders of the World
A group of Geography students studied the Seven Wonders of the World.
At the end of that section, the students were asked to list what they considered to be the Seven Wonders of the World. Though there was some disagreement, the following got the most votes:
1. Egypt's Great Pyramids
2. Taj Mahal
3. Grand Canyon
4. Panama Canal
5. Empire State Building
6. St. Peter's Basilica
7. China's Great Wall.
While gathering the votes, the teacher noted that one student, a quiet girl, hadn't turned in her paper yet. So she asked the girl if she was having trouble with her list.
The quiet girl replied, "Yes, a little. I couldn't quite make up my mind because there were so many."
The teacher said, "Well, tell us what you have, and maybe we can help."
The girl hesitated, then read, "I think the Seven Wonders of the World are:
1. to touch
2. to taste
3. to see
4. to hear
She hesitated a little, and then,
5. to run
6. to laugh
7. and to love.
It is far too easy for us to look at the exploits of man and refer to them as "wonders" while we overlook all that God has done, regarding them as merely "ordinary."
May you be reminded today of those things which are truly wondrous.
~Author Unknown~
If you don't have a community of support, find one. It's vital to have friends you can count on to pray when prayer is needed, to have people you can share the joys and trials of life with. Breaking in can be hard, but I've learned that the way to become part of an online community is to post, and post often, until you become familiar to the others. Getting through my father-in-law's death, my mother's stroke, and my daughter's blood clot crises would have been much harder if not for my online support system.
And just for GeeBee, because it touched home at this particular time:
7 Wonders of the World
A group of Geography students studied the Seven Wonders of the World.
At the end of that section, the students were asked to list what they considered to be the Seven Wonders of the World. Though there was some disagreement, the following got the most votes:
1. Egypt's Great Pyramids
2. Taj Mahal
3. Grand Canyon
4. Panama Canal
5. Empire State Building
6. St. Peter's Basilica
7. China's Great Wall.
While gathering the votes, the teacher noted that one student, a quiet girl, hadn't turned in her paper yet. So she asked the girl if she was having trouble with her list.
The quiet girl replied, "Yes, a little. I couldn't quite make up my mind because there were so many."
The teacher said, "Well, tell us what you have, and maybe we can help."
The girl hesitated, then read, "I think the Seven Wonders of the World are:
1. to touch
2. to taste
3. to see
4. to hear
She hesitated a little, and then,
5. to run
6. to laugh
7. and to love.
It is far too easy for us to look at the exploits of man and refer to them as "wonders" while we overlook all that God has done, regarding them as merely "ordinary."
May you be reminded today of those things which are truly wondrous.
~Author Unknown~
I Believe in Miracles
I'm going to try to recreate a post that Blogger ate, because I think it's an important message to hear...but I don't know if I can do justice to the original.
A friend's 3 1/2 year old grandson fell while jumping on his trampoline and hit his head on the frame. What followed was a grandmother's second-worse nightmare. He had a blood clot on his brain and the doctor's said IF he survived he might be paralyzed, on a breathing machine for life, mentally handicapped--all sorts of dire predictions. The members of eHarlequin's Bat Cave started to pray. They even changed the name of the current cave because it seems our lives tend to live up to the cave name, and this one wasn't suitable under the circumstances. People were praying in the U.S, in England, Australia, Sweden--all around the world, around the clock.
We nicknamed Cearha's grandson GeeBee. At first, GeeBee was in a medically-induced coma, his right side paralyzed, on a breathing machine. That was okay--at least he was still alive. Then he coughed against the tube a few times--baby steps, but progress just the same. Then he twitched his right side--the paralyzed one. He squeezed his grandma's hand. He curled into a fetal position. Finally, when he'd had enough of being messed with, he pinched the nurse, on purpose! Go GeeBee became the rallying cry in the Cave.
His brain pressure normalized and he was weaned off the sedation. Yesterday he began to breathe on his own, and last night he woke up! He knew his name, his sister's name, and he asked for his mama. So yes, God does answer prayer and miracles do still happen.
Next step--to see GeeBee walk, then run, then go on to live a totally normal life.
But for the love of God, I hope they burn the trampoline.
A friend's 3 1/2 year old grandson fell while jumping on his trampoline and hit his head on the frame. What followed was a grandmother's second-worse nightmare. He had a blood clot on his brain and the doctor's said IF he survived he might be paralyzed, on a breathing machine for life, mentally handicapped--all sorts of dire predictions. The members of eHarlequin's Bat Cave started to pray. They even changed the name of the current cave because it seems our lives tend to live up to the cave name, and this one wasn't suitable under the circumstances. People were praying in the U.S, in England, Australia, Sweden--all around the world, around the clock.
We nicknamed Cearha's grandson GeeBee. At first, GeeBee was in a medically-induced coma, his right side paralyzed, on a breathing machine. That was okay--at least he was still alive. Then he coughed against the tube a few times--baby steps, but progress just the same. Then he twitched his right side--the paralyzed one. He squeezed his grandma's hand. He curled into a fetal position. Finally, when he'd had enough of being messed with, he pinched the nurse, on purpose! Go GeeBee became the rallying cry in the Cave.
His brain pressure normalized and he was weaned off the sedation. Yesterday he began to breathe on his own, and last night he woke up! He knew his name, his sister's name, and he asked for his mama. So yes, God does answer prayer and miracles do still happen.
Next step--to see GeeBee walk, then run, then go on to live a totally normal life.
But for the love of God, I hope they burn the trampoline.
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Lunch with My Favorite Noodler
Got to have lunch with Stephanie Feagan yesterday. Two hours of good conversation along with good food--what could be better? Listening to her stories about National really brought home how much I'd missed by not going to Atlanta, but it also made me more determined to make it to Dallas. I've already started cleaning my purse out every night, depositing my change and dollar bills into a coffee can. One can is full, and I've started on the second. I might not be able to afford the conference fee, but at least I can join the Noodlers for lunch one day since I live close enough to drive.
So how do you save up the money for conference trips (those of you who have to budget for such things)?
So how do you save up the money for conference trips (those of you who have to budget for such things)?
Sunday, August 06, 2006
Making Memories
I've spent the last few days with my grandsons, going swimming, playing at the park, fishing, watching as they rode their electric Harley. We had fun, but most importantly, we made memories.
No one was better at making memories than my father-in-law. He did it by repetition--doing and saying things over and over until they were forever a part of us. My grandmother always greeted us on our visits with homemade rolls, buttered and toasted, and mugs of hot chocolate. I hope I can follow their example with my own grandchildren. I've started by having a tradition of a big breakfast in the mornings when they're here. We have eggs, sausage, biscuits, pancakes, orange juice. If I forget something ( like I did this week when I failed to buy orange juice) the kids let me know I goofed.
Do you have "memory makers?" Things you do with your kids every year, or with your grandkids? I'd love to have some ideas of things I can do to make our own memories.
Saturday, August 05, 2006
Something Every Unpublished Writer Should Read
Rita Winner and Wet Noodle Posse member Stephanie Feagan posted a letter to a friend on her blog at http://www.stephaniefeagan.com/blog/ and I think it's a classic. Something every aspiring, unpublished writer needs to hear. And it wouldn't hurt the published authors to read it, either. Go take a look. It's the blog titled The Secret To Getting Published .
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
Back to School Already?
This month on the Wet Noodle Posse website I wrote the Top 10 Tips for back to school. Click on the link above to check it out.
I'd invited my grandsons to spend a week with Gramma this summer, but with their Disney Cruise in June and the big wedding in July, then their mom being in the hospital, time just seemed to slip away. My oldest grandson informed me last week that he only had 21 days left until school started, so I picked them up today and brought them home with me. We stopped by the "sprinkler" park on the way home, where they had a blast, ate dinner at Grandy's, then came home to watch the Phillies/Cardinals game. Tomorrow we're headed for the park before it gets too hot, then we'll come back and play in the sprinkler for a while before heading over to my sister-in-law's house for a swim in their pool. Friday we're off to the waterpark, and Saturday we'll do something else involving water. The boys take after me--swimming is their favorite summer activity.
The news from the RWA National convention continues to roll in, with Noodlers taking top honors in a number of different contests. You can read all about it on the Wet Noodle website (www.wetnoodleposse.com) Also, JoAnn Ross, author and mentor extraordinaire, was awarded the RWA Pro Mentor of the Year award. There isn't a nicer, more helpful and more considerate woman on the planet and we love her dearly. Hop over to her website (www.joannross.com) and check out her fabulous books and writer's tips.
I'd invited my grandsons to spend a week with Gramma this summer, but with their Disney Cruise in June and the big wedding in July, then their mom being in the hospital, time just seemed to slip away. My oldest grandson informed me last week that he only had 21 days left until school started, so I picked them up today and brought them home with me. We stopped by the "sprinkler" park on the way home, where they had a blast, ate dinner at Grandy's, then came home to watch the Phillies/Cardinals game. Tomorrow we're headed for the park before it gets too hot, then we'll come back and play in the sprinkler for a while before heading over to my sister-in-law's house for a swim in their pool. Friday we're off to the waterpark, and Saturday we'll do something else involving water. The boys take after me--swimming is their favorite summer activity.
The news from the RWA National convention continues to roll in, with Noodlers taking top honors in a number of different contests. You can read all about it on the Wet Noodle website (www.wetnoodleposse.com) Also, JoAnn Ross, author and mentor extraordinaire, was awarded the RWA Pro Mentor of the Year award. There isn't a nicer, more helpful and more considerate woman on the planet and we love her dearly. Hop over to her website (www.joannross.com) and check out her fabulous books and writer's tips.
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