Details

When I finish a good book I often wonder what it was that I liked: Was it the plot, or the characters, or something else entirely?  Most times it’s the details.

I went to the wedding between my husband’s brother and his lovely bride over the weekend. It was incredible. Everything was there, from the handmade toothpicks for the appetizers to the area set up for Bocci and horseshoes (it was a picnic reception). Every detail was planned for, every need thought of.

I believe it’s the same with our writing. Is there enough suspense to keep the reader invested?  Are there tender moments where the reader is reminded why he/she loves your characters enough to stay up into the wee hours of the night to find out what happens to them? Are there details, precious details, for the reader to savor, to taste, and enjoy?

Writing Plans

This is planning season for me.

I look over my calendar and try to think what we’ll do for school (we’re a homeschooling family), where we’ll go for vacation during the next year , and what if any projects we’ll do around the house.

I don’t know why, but every end of August, beginning of September I do this, it’s almost like nesting; maybe it has something to do with the long winter months on the way (Did I mention I live near Buffalo?).

Either way, that’s what I’m doing today. I’m bringing out my calendar and planning. But for the last two years I’ve added something extra to the planning list: What am I planning to write in the next year?

For the first time ever there’s some structure to my writing. I need to have my edits in by such and such a date and then revise for the final draft. The creative side of me is screaming over this, but I’ve promised it long months of free write time in-between.

So the question I ask today, my friends, is what are your writing plans for the next year, and how do you deal with the anticreativeness of deadlines?

Humble Pie

Monday I ran a 6k.

I use the word run loosely; mainly I was moving my feet slightly faster and waving my arms a bit.

Now to understand the humor in this you have to know something about me. I don’t run.  But three weeks ago I decided to join my husband in his annual Turkey Trot. (It’s a five mile run on Thanksgiving held in Buffalo, NY) So I decided that might require me to, you know, get off the couch.

So three weeks ago I got up at 5:30 (am) and started moving. It wasn’t pretty. But I’ve kept with it, and when my husband called me on Monday and asked if we could take a slight detour on our weekly date on Monday for him to run a 3.4 mile race, I said sure, as long as I could do it to.

What he didn’t tell me was that it was an off roads trail. Uphill.

When I started, I was determined to do three things: Finish. Finish in under an hour. Not finish last.

At least I got two of the three.

Yes, it is a very humbling thing to be that last one to go across the line, with your husband who came back to find you, to everyone cheering and you know they’re only cheering because now they get to go home.

I tried to convince myself that surely I wasn’t the last one, there was that girl I passed who was texting and the woman walking her dog, but people taking down the props is hard to argue with.

But, at least I wasn’t home, sitting on the couch.

Surreal Moment

I just got back from Kingdom Bound. For those of you not from the Western New York area, Kingdom Bound is like the Woodstock of Christian Music: four days of music and rides at Darien Lake (used to be a six flags park). This is the second year I’ve gone and I LOVED it.

Imagine listening live to the music you write to. Or better yet, imagine meeting the artists who make the music that you listen to as you write. Or even better, imagine giving an ARC to your favorite singer of the band you listen to as you write.

Ahhh….. It was wonderful.

Birthdays and other announcements

Today is my daughter’s sixth birthday.

It’s so much fun watching her go up to perfect strangers and announce her big news. They pacify her, telling her happy birthday; some sincerely, some not so much.

It’s the same way when I tell people I’m writing. Each time I say the words I cringe, wondering if I said too much.  

But I said it, it’s out there, and I sit back and wait for the responses. Some people are genuinely happy. Others look at me incredulously like Who do you think you are, writing a book? Others just try to pacify me.

It’s especially hard, because I’ve thought all of those things myself. Who do I think I am? Then I try to pacify myself, and if it’s a good day I’ll end up just feeling content in what I’m doing.

Because it’s not about them, or me; it’s about doing what God created you to do.

Just me.

I’m not very trendy. I just like what I like and get around to reading what I want, not when it comes out, but when I feel like it.

I didn’t realize that about myself until recently. My daughter was reading a book that is the first in a trilogy, which meant that the next book wasn’t coming out for over a year. She spent some time venting her frustration. That was when I realized that has never happened to me.

I read all four Twilight books for the first time in a week. Hunger Games, same thing. And now I just got done reading all of the Shiver books.

There has never been a time when I waited in line outside of a bookstore, eagerly waiting for a sequel.

I’m telling you this because I’ve decided to do some book reviews on this blog and this is my way of excusing how dated they’ll be.

Until then,

melanie

Resolutions

My family and I just got back from camp. We go every year to Camp Pioneer, a beautiful place right on Lake Erie. It’s kind of like New Year’s Eve for me. I mean the resolutions, not necessarily the party. At some point every year I make it to the beach for some alone time and think about my life; where it’s going, where I’ve been. And I make some hard decisions.

This year I thought a lot about my role as a wife and mother, and my career. It was on the shores of Lake Erie that I decided I don’t want to be a nurse anymore. I love being a nurse, always have, but it just feels like it’s time to be a writer, not just play at it.

And I decided the difference between being a good mother and a bad one was talking with my children, instead of at them and I need to do that more.

My husband?  I acknowledged my mistakes, and his. And I thanked God that I have David in my life and I am looking forward to more time with him this year.

But most of all I saw the parts of my life that I had attempted to do my own way and they sucked. So this year it’s all His; the good, the bad, the ugly.

I can’t to see how it turns out.