Returning Home

I didn't do it intentionally. Honest!

Things like Christmas, family vacation, pre-planned blogposts, and a sore arm had gotten in the way. All of the sudden it had been... well, way too long.

It hadn't felt like it had been a long time otherwise I would have taken care of it long before I flopped down on a king size log bed with a purple pen and my Writer's Notebook.

Yup, I was rusty. It hurt. And I silently cursed myself for smacking my forearm on whatever I was clumsy enough to crash into.

But I loved it.

It felt so good to be back, to be doing something I loved. It was a deep breath of rich air. It was calming and refreshing.

I pushed through the pain of the pen's movement across the page. I slowly shook the dust from the dictionary stored in my corner of my brain. I smiled as I saw the influence of other writers and as the piece took a different direction than I anticipated.

It was good. It was home.

Home is watching my fingers bleed purple ink.

Home is the opening chords of a familiar song.

Home is digging into the Word when you've gotten busy, lazy, and unintentional.

Home is freedom and fresh air. Comfort, love, and uncontainable joy.

Home is sleeping between your own sheets after a long vacation. Home is hugs waiting for you at the door and milk in the fridge.

While the physical location of home is changing once again, the emotional feeling of home follows me wherever I go.

For this I am grateful.

I am also grateful for grace. For hobbies, no, for ways of life, that return after having been abandoned.

<>< Katie

What Would You Write?

Write what you know.

That's what writers are always told. I'm not good at following that advice. I always seem to start writing stories that I have no authority to write, horrors I can barely imagine.

What do I know? I know what it's like to go to a college prep school. I know what it's like to live with seven other girls in a four-bedroom apartment. I know what it's like to attend fifteen concerts by the same artist.

What I know is boring, at least to me.

Who wants to read a fictional work based on the reality of being an unemployed recent grad? Not me, that's for sure.

But it got me thinking: if I were the author who got my fictional character into this mess, how would I get her out?

Would I turn one of her cold-calling strangers turn into a job offer? (In this economy?)

Would I send a knight in shining armor to whisk her away to marital bliss? (That sounds pleasant, cheesy, and unrealistic)

Would I have her blog discovered and novel picked up by Huge Name Publishing House and it become a best seller? (I'm just dreaming all possibilities here)

Would I send her to graduate school, the international mission field, or a homeless shelter?

Would I make her sulk and wait? Wonder and hope? Would I teach her about trust and obedience?

I am not the Author of this life. And I guess that's a good thing since none of these options seem good and viable at the moment.

I am the protagonist in this lifestory, trusting the Author's plan. Unlike me, He doesn't change His mind, He doesn't kill characters for plot excitement, and He definitely doesn't abandon half-finished stories. 

And that, my friends, brings me hope.

<>< Katie

Where to Start?

"The first sentence is always the most difficult."

That's the post I saw on Twitter from my blogger-friend, Ashley.  Her statement is true: the first sentence is the most difficult to write. It's also the most important.

Katie: I never write it first.
Ashley: What do you write first? I tried the last chapter one time. Failed miserably.
Katie: Somewhere. Usually towards the beginning.

This conversation made me ponder my own writing habits and wonder about yours.  So, in the spirit of National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo): where do you start when you're writing?

It doesn't necessarily have to be a novel.  It could be a blog post, a poem, or a song.  Where do you start?

Like I told Ashley, I start somewhere towards the beginning but not usually the first line.  The first line is probably the most important line of the novel (or post).  I've heard of people who collect first lines.  The first line is vital, so why start with something so important?

I start later. I have a temporary first line, write the brunt of the piece, and then adjust the first line to be the stunning opening line it should be.  I don't think I write good first lines (except in that one post from Philly last November; that was a killer first line, if I may say so).

I like backstory.  I like to set the scene.  I don't like to jump right in and make the reader try to tread water while he/she is figuring out how deep the lake is and who else is in it.  I write like I think sharks should come with big huge arrows in the sky pointing to them.  But, I have been told that the first line is an awful place for backstory.  What are your thoughts?

Ashley mentioned she tried starting at the end once.  That's what I have in my NaNoWriMo novel: the beginning (sans opening line) and the end.  Now I'm sitting here like a child on Christmas as my parents open their gifts from me and I'm telling them what it is before the paper is off.

I'll ask it again: where do you start?  And why?

I guess it doesn't matter much as long as you start somewhere.

Happy writing,
<>< Katie

Six Month Update: Books Style

In January I set the goal to read 25 books this year.  So far, I am ahead of where I was last year at this time. 

1. The Greatest Salesman in the World by Og Mandino
This easy-read is a fictional story with religious undertones.  It's a good book but not to be considered the answer to all things.  (Of course, I like Jesus and He's only a minor character here).

2. Choosing to See by Mary Beth Chapman with Ellen Vaughn
Some people write because they like to write.  Some people write because they have a story to tell.  Mary Beth is the second.  Choosing to See does have a mixed feeling of "I'm famous, so I wrote a book" and "I'm doing this because my counselor told me to."  But she's very vulnerable with her audience and honest about her battles with depression and the horrors of losing a child.  As a Steven Curtis Chapman fan, reading some of these stories was almost like hearing a retelling of my own family's stories in that parts were familiar and just as funny or sad as I remember them.

3. How the Garcia Girls Lost Their Accents by Julia Alvarez
This novel is really hard to write about in one paragraph since I used some of its themes to write a twenty-five page thesis.  Alavrez does a great job of opening up to the readers the world as seen by Dominican emigrants and their challenges in living in the United States, both cultural and familial.  It's written reverse-chronologically which is interesting but not necessarily a bad thing.  Definitely worth exploring.

4. Lifestories by Mark Hall with Tim Luke
Mark Hall is a youth pastor first and the lead singer of Casting Crowns second.  His book, like all of their CDs, reflects this.  It tells the stories behind the songs on the Casting Crowns and Lifesong CDs, but it's not a "sit back and have a story told to you" book.  It's a "sit, read, reflect, and grow spiritually" book.  The only thing I would have done different would have been to include the song lyrics with each corresponding chapter.  I think you're supposed to read the chapter then watch the music video.  I know better than to put down a book to turn on the computer...

5. Lipstick in Afghanistan by Roberta Gately
This novel tells the story of an ER nurse who moves to Afghanistan through Aide du Monde (ADM).  It talks about her transition to working in an Afghanistan hospital, her struggle to get to know the culture, and her effort to build relationships with the people there.  Even though parts of it broke my heart, I definitely enjoyed this book!

6. Forgotten God by Francis Chan
This is a book I'm going to have to read again I enjoyed it that much.  Chan takes a look at the Holy Spirit, or the aspect of God he declares "forgotten."  Really, how often do you give credit to the Spirit?  Check it out!  Definitely a must read!

7. Navigating the Rough Waters of Today's Publishing World by Marcia Meier
If you're clueless about today's publishing world, this book is a good resource.  If you have some background knowledge in writing and publishing, this book doesn't have a lot of new information.  However, it was interesting to get Meier's opinion on the situation.

8. Magic Hour by Kristin Hannah
This novel is the story of a psychiatrist who is being blamed for a teenager's shooting spree and suicide.  She essentially loses her practice the same time a mysterious lost child appears in her hometown where her sister is the police chief.  It's a story of questioning one's self-esteem, perseverance, and courage.  I found myself in this book in several different situations.  I'm not really sure what the title has to do with anything and the "strained family relationship" mentioned on the back cover isn't as strained as one would expect.  I enjoyed this book but I did find parts of it to be predictable. 

9. A Loss for Words by Lou Ann Walker
Lou Ann Walker is a CODA (a Child of Deaf Adults), so I picked up this autobiography to see a slightly different perspective on Deafness.  Parts of the story broke my heart in how her parents (and her entire family) were treated. Parts of it I enjoyed and parts I thought droned on too long.  Walker's a journalist so sometime she just wrote what happened and didn't drawn any conclusions which frustrates me as a writer.

10. Over the Edge by Brandilyn Collins
I won this book from a blog giveaway, so I wasn't really sure what to expect.  I loved it!  Maybe it was my pre-existing interest in Lyme disease or how well the book is written, but I devoured it in three days!  It has a lot of good information about Lyme and isn't too technical while also telling a compelling story.  My only real criticism would be that during the most intense moments of the story, it seemed Jannie's Lyme symptoms were ignored or forgotten.  The plot line is a lot of building and then a quick ending but it wasn't necessarily bad.  Of the novels on this list, I think this one was my favorite.

11. Friendships for Grown-Ups by Lisa Whelchel
This book holds hints of, "I'm famous, so I wrote a book about my life" but it also have some very helpful information regarding friendship in adulthood.  One thing that I found especially useful is the resources at the end containing practical tips about being intentional with friendships and building relationships.  Sometimes Whelchel went into what I would consider to be superfluous details with each relationship scenario that I felt could have been summed up with an, "Every relationship is different."  But I know some people want that kind of detail and information regarding the differences in relationships.

Current Moving Bookmarks:
Too Busy Not to Pray by Bill Hybels
Grace for the Moment by Max Lucado
Saints at the River by Ron Rash

Reading Wish List:
Outlive Your Life by Max Lucado
Twelve Extraordinary Women by John MacArthur
Crazy Love by Francis Chan
Eli the Good by Silas House
I own books 2-10, so if you want to borrow them, please let me know.

My parents bought a Kindle they're going to let me take to China, so I need to make a list of what I want to read on the plane.

What have you been reading lately?  What should I check out?

<>< Katie

Author Interview: Jennifer Rogers Spinola

Hey, friends! All the cool kids are doing author interviews… so I figured I’d do one of my own. Jennifer Rogers Spinola is going through the process of publishing her novel, Southern Fried Sushi, that will be released in October 2011. Jenny currently lives in Brazil with her Brazilian husband Athos and their adopted son Ethan. For more information, check out her website at http://www.jenniferrogerspinola.com/

<>< Katie

Katie: You’re in the process of publishing a novel. Tell us a little bit about Southern Fried Sushi. What should readers expect?

Jenny: Here's a portion from the original proposal: "An independent journalist coming face-to-face with her past, must start over again among the least likely people in the last place she'd expect."

The book follows award-winning journalist Shiloh Jacobs through a series of gut-wrenching events that force her out of Tokyo and the writing job she loves and to a hick, Southern Virginia town she's never heard of. The question is this: Can Shiloh, stuck in this small town with only a handful of unlikely friends to call family, find a way out?

As Shiloh begins to unravel the secret that changed her mother's life so powerfully, Shiloh realizes she must make a decision: to find forgiveness for her painful past or shut the door on God—and her troubled family life—forever.

Katie: What inspired this book?

Jenny: Since I'm a small-town girl who moved to Japan, I started to wonder what the opposite would be like. Gawking at skyscrapers is one thing but what would someone used to skyscrapers do in my small hometown where the biggest building is the local Wal-Mart? That intrigued me. A lot of story ideas start with plain old what ifs.

The other thing that led to this book is when I realized I was always writing about stuff that required research, stuff I didn't know very well. So one day I thought, "What if I write on a topic I know about?" And when I boiled it down, I realized I don't have "exciting" expertise in some area like medicine, forensic investigation, or something of the like that sells books. So what do I know about? 1) rednecks 2) living abroad

Katie: What have you learned through the process of writing a novel, the challenge of getting it published, and now the publishing process?

Jenny: Wow... where to begin? I have always loved to write. Period. I know nothing about publishing novels, and I'm not even in the right country to go to writer's conferences and learn all that stuff. But in impossible situations like mine is exactly where God loves to step in. The biggest help I've had came from fellow author (and former coworker) Roger Bruner, who had just received a contract with the same publishing company and walked me through the process step by step.

I've learned:
- Finish your novel, no matter what, because that forces you to write and think and work through the rough spots.
- Make use of a critique group, a dedicated small group of writers that come together and give encouragement.
- You just have to write. That's it. Every day. Even if you have no ideas. Even if what you write stinks. As long as you’re writing something, anything, those creative juices flow. And then finish.
- Publishing isn't as easy as it used to be (if it ever was). The market is flooded, so you have to come up with something different from what everybody else is doing but not so different that it won't sell.
- Reading helps writing. Try to always read someone better than you, and you'll pick up good habits.
- You can't send query letters anymore. The publishing market has changed significantly. Publishers don't read unsolicited stuff. You either have to have an agent, meet an interested editor at a writer's conference, or know someone who's already in the business. The bottom line is, though, that God still makes away even for the clueless, like me, when the time is right.
- Go to writer's conferences. I learned SO MUCH about writing and marketing, plus met lots of fellow writers, neat agents and editors, and bought cheap books.

Katie: How do you balance your time between writing, your family, a social life, and other responsibilities?
Jenny: It's really difficult with a husband, young child, church, plus friends, English (ESL) students, and all the work it takes to keep a home running in a foreign country.

So I do a couple of things:
- Get up early with my husband and write while he studies
- Shower in the evening. Really. Then when my two-year-old sleeps around mid-day I can spend my time writing not showering and drying my hair.
- Make writing a priority. If I have an hour of quiet time on the weekend, I usually choose to write. I always choose writing time over reading time because it's much easier to stick a book in your bag and read in line, read in the car, read outside while my son plays, but it's much harder to get that focused time where I can sit, think, and plug in my laptop.

Katie: What are some of your writing habits?
Jenny: If I get stuck I just write SOMETHING. Then when I realize I don't like it (doesn't take very long), it forces me to write something else.

I also try to keep at least one writing project on the back burner, even if I'm working on something else, so that I'm never without something to think/write about.

When I'm really into a crucial section in a story, I'll sometimes write for hours at a time, eating at my desk, and writing and rewriting paragraphs until I'm happy with it. Now that my son is bigger, it's harder to do that, so when I can't sit at my computer and write, I mentally go over plotlines and even individual words while I make lunch or change diapers so that when I get a minute, all that thinking comes out in one written chunk.

Katie: If you could be any two inanimate objects, what would you be and why?
1. A tree somewhere on top of a mountain. Living in the city, I miss nature. But I miss total expanses of wilderness. Mountain rains. Dawns. Falling leaves. Streams with bends that no one sees.
2. A Japanese fan, with all the color and life folded neatly inside its deceptively fragile paper.

Katie: Thank you so much for your time. Is there anything else you'd like to add?
Jenny: Well, my life sure has turned out differently than I expected. I left full-time writing a few years back to serve as a short-term Baptist missionary in Japan which changed my life and outlook on many things. I also met my Brazilian husband there; we got married after my term ended and moved to Brazil. Now we've adopted a son who was born at 24 weeks with major medical issues, and we've seen God's healing miracle in his life, so that we can hardly contain our joy at his health and happiness and love of life.

If you'd have asked me back in college if my life would end up this way, I'd have laughed out loud. I was dating a local boy from home in Virginia and planning to get married after graduation. I never wanted to be a missionary and prayed God would never send me overseas.

My biggest advice: Follow God. Love God. He works everything out in your life in a greater way than you can imagine. And He *loves* surprises.

Have Pen; Will Travel

My life ends in May.

Or at least my calendar ends in May.  In May, I will walk across the stage to receive a hard-earned diploma, but I have no idea where I'm going to walk when I descend the stage.

I'm praying by then I'll have it all figured out.

Today I started filling out five graduate school applications to study creative writing.  I've been told getting a masters in creative writing is like getting a masters in violin: you're never going to use it.

Thanks for the encouragement!

The person who told me that went on to explain that I should do it because I love to write and I want to get better.

So I'm throwing caution into the wind and applying to MFA programs in five states around the country (only one of which have I ever visited before).

On tomorrow's to do list is updating my resume and applying for writing and editing jobs all over the country.  So if you know anyone that needs a writer/editor, I can probably hook you up with a good one!

The next day I'll apply for hobo positions in mid-sized cities.  Does anyone have a shopping cart I can borrow?

As I was mulling over these options and moping, I was having a nice facebook conversation with Casey.  She provided the traditional suggestions: Have you considered journalism or teaching?  Yes, thanks, and, no, I'm not interested.

She also provided me with some encouragement, said she was praying for me, and sent me on my way.  It helped.

That night, as I was going to turn off my iPod off, "Peace Be Still" by Rush of Fools began to play.

I didn't sign.  I didn't sing.

I sat cross-legged on my bed and let those words wash over me as God sang His daughter to sleep.

Come to Me, you who are weak.

Let My strength be yours tonight.
Come and rest, let My love be your bed
Let My heart be yours tonight.

Peace be still; peace be still.
Please be still and know that I AM God.
And know that I AM God.

Come empty cup, let Me fill you up.
I'll descent on you like a dove tonight.
Lift your head, let your eyes fall into Mine.
Let your fear subside tonight.

Peace be still, peace be still.
Please be still and know that I AM God.
And know that I AM God.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah...

The line that hit me the most was, "Please know [in your heart] that I AM God." I know that He is God.  I know that He has it all figured out.  I know that I don't have to know.  But that doesn't give me peace.

Please know in your heart that I AM God.

<>< Katie

Writer's Notebook entry dated 12-30-10.
Update 1-20-11: Four of the applications are now complete, the resume is updated, Dad told me I'd make a good hobo (what the heck does that mean?), and the oldest working iPod known to man has since died (August 3, 2005-January 13, 2011).

Looking Like People

"Your characters talk and act like people, but they don't look like people," my fiction writing class told me last week.  This constructive criticism has stuck in my head since then. 

It's true: I rarely describe the physical features of my characters.  Maybe it's because even though I'm a visual learned I struggle to describe real people much less made-up people.  There are almost a million 5'4" girls with light brown hair.  Maybe it's because I find writing physical description to be boring.  "Her dyed red hair fell in her face covering her hazel eyes" lameness.  Maybe it's because when I'm reading I envision the characters my own way and don't like being told I'm wrong.
"But we want to see the characters the way you see them," my professor told me.

My question is: Does it matter?  If it's vital that a character has curly, dark brown hair looks like she jumped out of a Jane Austen novel, then, yes, of course I'll mention it.  But does every character, or even the main character, need to be accompanied by a physical description?

Elizabeth says yes.  Otherwise they're just voices.
Nikki says she's stop reading if they weren't described.
Without looking up from the book she was reading, Amy nodded.

I remember as a fourth grader reading The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe before watching the movie.  Afterwards, the teacher asked us what we thought.

One student (I wish it was me...) said, "I liked the pictures in the book better."

I gave my protagonist strawberry blonde hair just to appease my classmates.  But deep down inside I wonder.  Does it matter to you if you know I'm so skinny I disappear if I turn sideways, my hands are so chapped they're bloody, and my not-quite-shoulder-length dirty blonde hair spends a majority of it's time in a three-quarters pony tail?

<>< Katie

The Brownie

Yesterday, Dr. Johnson (of the science department) threw a brownie with green frosting to Chelsea.  Today said Key Lime Brownie made an appearance in our fiction writing class.  Chelsea gave it to Logan.  Logan gave it to me and told me he made it himself.  I asked how he wrapped it in plastic and left it on Dr. Vance's desk.  Saxon decided he wanted to eat said brownie.

Chomp.

Chew.

Chew.

Chew.

"That was disgusting!  It was like coconut.  Yeah, very bad choice."

Dr. Vance refused to eat the remainder of the brownie.  At the end of class, the brownie missing one bite was still sitting on the desk.

"Somebody's going to have to take care of that," Dr. Vance said.

"That was a very bad decision," Saxon repeated.

The class concluded the brownie made out of ginkgo tree berries and injected with poison.  Dr. Johnson knew Saxon would eat the poisonous brownie, thus making him incapable of playing kickball.  He knew Dr. Vance would not refuse a brownie and the poison would make the English department short two vital kickball players.  In the rule book we write, we will have to make sure distributing poisonous brownies is illegal.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is what happens when you give a key lime, coconut brownie to a Fiction Writing class...

When the story got back to Dr. Johnson, he was amused.  He said the brownie came from the bottom of a chemistry test tube.  Saxon said it tasted like that could have been true.

<>< Katie

I have been rejected

As part of my English major, I have to take a Communications class.  Someone please explain that one to me.  All I know is I would much rather write about donating blood or girls tumbling from walls than yesterday's bank robbery on 15th and Main St.

My optimistic attitude about this class quickly moved to dislike.  I even mentioned it to one of my English professors.
Professor: You know, you could have taken Poetry Writing instead of Communications Class.
Katie: I know, but I thought this would have been the lesser of the two evils.
Professor: You would have had more fun in the other evil.

Well, I think out of boredom, some of very clever lines have flowed through my fingers in this class.  And let me tell you, they're not about the hit-and-run that happened around 10pm last night...

The professor handed us a speech asked us to write an article about it, and said, "You're going to like this one."  I'm not sure if it was out of spite for the professor or spite for the class, but I was determined for prove him wrong.  It was pretty easy.  This was a Steve Jobs speech, and I'm a Windows girl.  The irony is that this post was written from a Mac.

With a Shaun Groves post about fear pulled up as an incentive to finish the assignment, I began to read the speech.  Naturally, I did everything my English background told me to do: critique, analyze, examine.  Well, that's apparently a big no-no for journalism, but I didn't really care.  I figured I would turn the filter on later.

Somewhere around the middle of the speech, I moved from loathing the assignment to tolerating it.  Although I did not agree with all of the theology, Jobs was making good points.

"I had been rejected, but I was still in love," he said.
Jobs was talking about being fired from his own company, but I think that's a line that can be applied to a plethora of different aspects of life.

"I had been rejected, but I was still in love."

For me, the application that shines through most clearly is in writing.  I submitted a piece that I thought was a sure-thing, but it was rejected.  That's a hard pill to swallow, especially for someone who can't swallow pills.

"I had been rejected, but I was still in love."

I was rejected, but I still love to write.  Just like Jobs continued to pursue a dream that eventually turned into the development of Pixar and NeXT, I am continuing to pursue a dream.  Who knows where it will turn out. 

This is what I do know: God gave me a passion for writing.  It is one of my strengths.  There is no way that He isn't going to use it for His glory.  I am willing to suffer through every Communications class required for my English major just to see that come to fruition.

<>< Katie

The Mirror

Sometimes I want to have a "Did you know?" blog series.  My brain is filled with random things that I enjoy making people stop and go "Wait, what?" 

Examples:
Did you know, watermelon floats?
Did you know, shaving cream cleans tables?
Did you know, dry erase markers write on mirrors?

The other morning, I stumbled into the bathroom to find two notes.

"Amy, I'm not going to class.  It's a stress/sleep thing.  Love, Liz."

"Jen, you're beautiful.  Love, Nikki."

Still half asleep, I brushed my teeth and didn't think anything of it.

Ten minutes later I ventured into the bathroom again and found a whole new set of notes.

KATIE!
We love you!  We hope you have a wonderful day!  Your beautiful face here: : )
PS: Please wash the mirror.

The mirror was covered in purple notes!  And my sweet suitemates earned their keep.  Their simple action put a smile on my face all day long.

Do something simple and make someone's day today.

PS: I didn't wash the mirror.

<>< Katie

God is an Earthquake

God is an earthquake.

Sometimes He bursts in with trembling force destroying anything and everything.  With one simple movement He flips your life up-side down.  Just like detrimental earthquakes get all of the press, unexpected life changes get all of the attention.  Yes, God uses those.

He also uses earthquakes like the ones I experienced in Guatemala.

I was sitting on the bottom bunk journaling when the bed began to shake.  At first, I didn't think anything of it.  Heather must have woken up and kicked the unstable bed frame.  Then I looked at Heather, still fast asleep.  I looked across the room at Mandi who was looking back at me.  Her eyes held the same questions mine did: what is going on?

Together we both looked at the huge water jug.  The water sloshing told us it was not just a bed frame problem.  We were experiencing an earthquake.  So small it could have gone unnoticed.

Sometimes God's signs and His words are so small they may go unnoticed.  So subtle you might pass them by. 

I just wanted to take a moment and encourage you to seek in the big earthquakes; hear His booming voice.  But also realize that sometime God whispers.  Don't let the whisper, the little earthquake, pass you by.

With love,
<>< Katie

3:42am

Let's admit it: we all face writer's block.  I've heard arguments that it deoes not exist, but reality is that sometimes the words just don't come.  Some days it's because you can't find the time and other days the blank piece of paper (or blank "Document 1") is just too overwhelming to produce anything, much less anything worth while.

A few weeks ago Nikki and I were emailing about the hectic schedules we face this summer and the lack of free writing time.  I suggested she take five minutes and just write.  Pen to paper... three, two, one GO!

But what to write?
1. Peanut Butter Bagel
"I had peanut butter on my bagel today instead of cream cheese, and I feel the need to write about it."

2. A funny or sad or embarassing or random story
It could be from fifteen years ago of fifteen seconds ago, no one really cares.  You don't have to justify why you thought about it right now.  Just write it.  Embellish if you feel like it.

3. "I don't know what to write but Katie told me to write so I am doing it."
MercyMe actually has an entire song about this (ok, without me). It's entitled "3:42am" and it's my prayer for life.

"3:42 am (Writer's Block)" by MercyMe

3:41am make that 3:42

time just keeps rolling on while I'm here stuck like glue

so many things cross my mind but nothing stays awhile... so frustrating

I just want to say something worthwhile... speak through me.

Say, say what You wanna say... and say it loudly

Say, say what You wannna say.

6:45am, man, that just can't be right

3 hours have gone by and this is all I've got

My common sense tells me I should get out of the way.... so You can speak

O, Lord, show up or I'll be here all day... speak through me.

Say, say what You wanna say... and say it loudly.

Say, say what You wanna say... speak through me.

If the idea's mine it's nothing but a waste of time.

So won't You say, say what You wanna say.

Say, say what You wanna say.

Say, say what You wanna say.

Say, say what You wanna say (say it loudly)

Say, say what You wanna say.

Say, say what You wanna say.

and say it louldy

Say, say what You wanna say... speak through me

If the idea's mine it's nothing but a waste of time

So won't You say, say what you wanna say.

Don't wait until you have time to write or you'll never write.  Make time.  And let Him use you.  Let the Writer write; you be the pen.

<>< Katie

See the blue; be the blue

My summer days have been pretty much the same: check blogger for updates, facebook, read blogs, check blogger for updates, write a new blog, read a chapter, work on novel (50,000 words!), check blogger for updates, read a chapter, work on novel, check blogger for updates...

When I finally tear myself away from the computer, I head to the basement to work on my scrapbook.  Directly above my workstation is a window that leads to a hole in our backyard.  When we first punched holes in the walls to add the windows, we put flowers in the terraced dug-out because they were pretty.  Well, the years have gone by and so have the flowers.

The other day I was banished to the basement (tornado warning?).  After cranking out a few pages, I looked up and saw this:

That's the best photo I could get without climbing on the counter and sitting in the window well in a "super safe way," sorry.  There is one small clump of blue flowers in a huge sea of green.  I looked at those blue flowers and smiled.

That's how we're supposed to be: one blue flower in a sea of green.  We're supposed to stand out in the crowd.  Stand strong for Christ, even when we're alone.  Daily show His grace, mercy, joy, and compassion even when it isn't easy.  We're supposed to be the blue.

A couple of hours later, I was still thinking about this God moment when I remembered the title of disc two in my car: See the Blue by Peder Eide.

The back of the CD case says,

If you look around yourself right now - even as you read this- and look for the color blue, you will most likely find many things that are blue.  The color stands out when you look for it.  It has always been there, but it's when you look for it that you find it!  The same goes for God's presence, God's fingerprint, God's grace, and God's still small voice.  It's always there, but often we don't notice it, hear it, or see it until we look for it."

Do you see the blue?  Can you be the blue?

<>< Katie

Peppermint Mocha, Please

Well, I did it.  I found the perfect place to sit and write.  I could sit there for hours undisturbed.  It was quiet and there weren't a lot of people to watch.  It seemed pretty much perfect.  Except it's three hours from my house.  Dang it!

I don't care.  Let me tell you about it.  It's Radio Shack.  Well, sort of.  Buried deep inside this Radio Shack was a little cafe that had three very important things: coffee, wifi, and wine.  Ok, so I'm not quite 21 yet and I don't really care for wine, but I would be willing to take up wine-drinking just to sit there with a glass as I mulled over words.  They can't serve it by the glass, but you can buy a bottle and drink your wine... in Radio Shack.

Well, the Radio Shack Cafe was a fail since it's so far away.  Instead I tried the library.  My suitemates think I loathe libraries.  I don't.  Just our campus library because it's outdated and feels like a dungeon.  The public library was a great suggestion!  I was impressed.  It had almost everything I wanted in a writing spot:
Quiet- check
Minimal distractions- check
View of the lake- check
Desk/workspace- check
Comfy chair- semi-check... better than the spindle one at home
Coffee- negative
Outlet for my computer- negative
However, I'm not a big coffee drinker and caffeine gives me a headache, so I can sacrifice that.  As for the plug, well, if I go with my computer fully charged it lasts two hours and that's how long I have on the parking meter, too.  It passes the test of day one.  I'll just pray the old man who was reading over my shoulder sits somewhere else next time.

Later that same day, I had a meeting with my boss for my writing internship.  We met at Starbucks, thus I was able to have my tall caffeine-free peppermint mocha.  We then sat on the patio and worked.  More accurately: I sat on the patio; Matt paced.  This was our second "pacing session" where he discusses, draws, demonstrates, dreams while I throw out ideas and write feverishly.  Since we met in a coffee shop, this officially fulfills aspects of my "Coffee-Shop Dwelling Writer" dream.  I can only hope that Matt has a dream to be the "Weirdo pacing and talking outside of a busy Starbucks."

 “Be yourself. Above all, let who you are, what you are, what you believe, shine through every sentence you write, every piece you finish.” ~ John Jakes

<>< Katie

An Afternoon at Starbucks

A few weeks ago I confided in you all that I have this secret goal to one day become a coffee shop-dwelling writer.  I talked about how my first shot at that goal didn't go so well since I chose a small, local coffee shop where professors hold office hours and my friends dwell.  I didn't give up, and on Wednesday I took a second stab at that goal.

"Hey, do you guys know of any good coffee shops in the area?" I asked after an enlightening, entertaining lunch discussing world politics and the best way to remove snot from one's nose (yes, really).

"Come over to church and use our coffee shop; that's why we have it," Bob suggested.  Then he laughed, "No, you wouldn't get any work done; you'd just talk."  I pretended to be mad at him, but we both knew it was the truth.

"Barnes and Noble has a coffee shop.  As does Borders," Jessica provided.  No good.  I'd spend more than the $3 I had in my wallet.

"Or there's a Starbucks across the street," Emily offered.

I was looking for a small, local coffee shop, but Starbucks would have to do.  I ventured across the street, walked into Starbucks with my purple purse, purple computer bag, and purple tumbler, and took a seat at the first table I saw with an outlet.  There I sat.  My water warm (it sat in the car during lunch).  My coffee cold (I only bought it so I didn't feel like I was loitering).  My battery dead (it was fine Monday, but by Tuesday it wouldn't hold a charge).  My pen sticky, my notebook out, and my inspiration missing.  I had been afraid of that.  I wasn't too worried.  I had plenty of stories to write.  Since the novel's hit a stand-still I've explored short stories.  As I've sure you've all noticed, I don't do "short" but, boy, do I love "stories."  If none of those would suffice, I had plenty of old material to play with.  I've never written "Major Parking Lot Incident" or I could tell the stories behind some of the weird items I'm finding as I clean my bedroom.  That wasn't necessary.  I did several hours of "picking" and POV focusing before finally calling it a day.

One thing I started in March was what I think I'm going to call the "inspiration box"  (Unless someone else has a more clever title). Anytime I read a good prompt, quote, exercise, or idea it goes in a gold box I saved from this past Christmas.  Most of these come from a writer's blog but some come from class and others from others.  I'd love to hear, how do you find inspiration?  What do you write when words don't come?  Also, can you work in a coffee shop or do you spend too much time people watching?  I've had that problem, too.

Oh, and how about a quick quote from Donald Miller's A Million Miles in a Thousand Years.

"And as I worked on the novel, as my character did what he wanted and ruined my story, it reminded me of life in certain ways.  I mean, as I sat there in my office feeling like God making my worlds, and as my characters fought to have their way, their senseless, selfish ways of nonstory, I could identify with them... I was also that character, fighting God and I could see God sitting at His computer, staring blankly at His screen as I asked Him to write in some money and some sex and some comfort." (Pg 85-86)

<>< Katie

The Pledge

I was already wearing khaki pants when I pulled on the gray polo with my alma mater's name embroidered on it.  I grabbed the navy blue polar fleece pull-over just in case the temperature dropped.  As I was walking out the door, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and couldn't help but laugh.  For years I complained about wearing a uniform to school every day and now here I am, years later, putting it on by choice.  At least it wasn't Friday.  It must be the private school advantage: we know how to dress ourselves in red, white, and blue.

Just for kicks and giggles, I contemplated writing the Honor Code on the top of my test.  "I pledge I will not lie, cheat, or steal.  Nor will I tolerate those who do."  For nine long years "I pledge..." was written at the top of every test I took accompanied by my signature that sometimes included all of the letters to my name.

Now, here I am, years removed from the pledge, the uniform, and the salmon colored bricks, yet they are forcing their way back into my life one collared polo at a time.  Some habits die hard, I guess.  However, it dawned on me today that it's all a lie.  I cheat.  I steal.  I tolerate it from myself and from others.

I am a writer.

I stretch the truth or make it up completely, I steal material from every day conversations, and I tolerate this only because I am a writer; this is what I'm paid to do.  Lying, cheating, and stealing are encouraged.

Eves drop.  Put something in your purse that doesn't exactly belong there (as long as it's only words, Grandma!). Let the tales of others appear in your work.  Don't feel bad about it.  After all, "The Code's more like guidelines than actual rules."

Ok, maybe that's a bit of hyperbole.  That doesn't mean real life is off-limits.  For example, a green laser was repeatedly shot across campus and directly into my eyes apartment this evening.  It gave me a nice headache.  When I write about this, the owner of the green laser pointer will be strangled and his laser buried at the bottom of the lake.  Just sayin'.

Lie, cheat, and steal material in the name of fiction.  Ok, I promise I won't do it while wearing the plaid skirt that makes me look like a Catholic school girl.

<>< Katie

Part I: Story Telling

This is Part I of a two-part blog series. Part II will be posted tomorrow.

"How many of you like to tell stories?" A professor asked one morning. Every hand in the room shot up. Of course, this is a creative writing class.

"How many of you like to hear stories?" Again, every hand went up.

"How many of you like to hear your parents or grandparents tell stories?" A bit hesitantly, the hands raised themselves into the air.

"Only the first time," Chelsea whispered to me. A little bit of laughter erupted from our side of the classroom. She'd voiced my exact thoughts. Only once do I really need to hear about how you walked to school everyday through the snow. Yes, I realize it was up-hill both ways.

However, there are some stories I don't mind hearing over and over again. Toddler Dad being brought home by the school girls because he had lost his clothes somewhere in the neighborhood (I like to think this was a recurring story and therefore truly happened as often as Dad tells it). Or how Mom's boyfriend took a flip off of the roof into a snowbank and a passer-by thought it was Grandpa.

I am blessed to have four grandparents and two parents, all healthy. Unfortunately, they're 900 miles away not telling me stories as we sit around and chat. Sometimes I miss that. Somedays I miss dinner being interrupted by a "Hey, did I ever tell you about the time our family cow followed me to school?" Yes, you have, only every day since I was old enough to remember but please tell it again!

As a writer, you never know when these stories are going to come in handy. Maybe they're the substance you need for a good poem, a great situation to plug into your novel, an amusing blog post, or even something to write about when you're suffering from writer's block. Recording and rewriting these stories in your Writer's Notebook is an excellent exercise.

What's a Writer's Notebook? That's tomorrow. See you then!

Go write about your family's classics,
<>< Katie

Delete

Most of you who know me well understand that I don't sit still. I'm a fidgeter. When I'm writing, I fidget with the capslock button because I like to watch the light go on and off. Even in composing of these few sentences I've played with it three times. Every time I pause, I hit "CAPSLOCK, CAPSLOCK, CAPSLOCK" until I have the words to continue my thought. Sometimes I even play while I'm in the middle of a word, thinking about spelling. I choose capslock because it doesn't do anything, hitting "SHIFT, SHIFT, SHIFT" or "TAB, TAB, TAB" doesn't quite have the same effect. It's really easy to turn capslock off and I normally don't have to retype more than a few letters. (I just did it again, "CAPSLOCK, CAPSLOCK, CAPSLOCK.") My other habit is worse.

When I'm reading or editing, I like to click the mouse of my laptop repeatedly. This means I highlight the word, the sentences, and then the entire document. I was staring at words, oblivious to the fact that I was highlighting words, sentences, paragraphs, etc. I finally decided how I wanted to rephrase a sentence, so I hit, "Delete" and there it went. All 55 pages. Gone. Vanished. Blank.

That's what God does. He highlights our entire life and in one foul swoop deletes it all and replaces it with Himself. He wipes our slate clean.

Don't worry, I was able to undo my mistake with the wonderful "Control Z" but I don't understand why you would want to do that in real life. Let God delete your sin, your imperfections, your failures. Let Him replace them with His plan, His purpose, His perfection.

Does that make sense? (CAPS, CAPS, CAPS).

<>< Katie

PS: Allyson just appeared in my room and threw me a gold fish. I caught it! And ate it. Without washing my hands! She told me I had to put that in my blog.

One Volunteer Hour Closer to Graduation

Our small group has been planning these afternoon volunteer trips to the nursing home near our school. Honestly, the elderly are out of my comfort zone so I've opted not to go. I was talking to Laura about it the other day and she ran the guilt trip, "It's a really good way to give back." Yes, I know, but that doesn't mean I like it! There are other ways to give back then just working with the elderly! Well... needless to say, she finally got me to come.

As Laura and I were walking to her car I said a quick prayer in my head,
"Lord, You know this isn't my favorite thing to do but bless this time. Make this trip worth my while, and, please, if at all possible, don't push me too far out of my comfort zone. Amen." Short and sweet. :-)

Laura and I met up with Natalie, who'd already been working there for awhile. We ran around the building playing "Marco Polo" looking for her. Just kidding, but only a little... Laura and I did walk in circles for a good five minutes (You'd think we'd have learned from the river adventure... not so much).

We found Natalie and the festival we were supposed to be helping out with had just finished. The lady was unsure what exactly to have us do and finally she said,
"Well, I have a job for you, but it involves a lot of writing."

Natalie admitted that was fine and she got us settled. She had us working on some paperwork that didn't really involve A LOT of writing. Either way, when she handed us those pens, I knew God had heard (and answered) my prayer. He understood I wasn't comfortable with the elderly so He found another job we could do and still give back the community. How great is our God? :-D Just because He forces us outside of our comfort zones doesn't mean He deserts us there. He walks us through every step of the way (and sometimes we have to walk in the same place more than once, right, Laura?). He won't give you more than you can handle (like some little old lady you can't understand with her heavy drawl).

I'm glad sacrificed part of an afternoon when I could have (should have) been studying. I'm also glad I got to play with pens all afternoon instead of people. My efforts were worthwhile, I am now one hour closer to graduation, and I stepped out of my comfort zone. (Ok, I feel like a certain gym teacher talking about comfort zones... I'm done now).

Yes, I will confess God has spoken to me in an unusual fashion: elderly and pens.
This is my God moment for the week. :-)

<>< Katie

"Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world." James 1:27