In Which I Semi-Retire from Blogging

Those who have been ardently, impatiently waiting for the latest blog posting from me has been disappointed this past summer. I went to a regional SCBWI conference at the beginning of June, had a 'near miss' with an agent and the blog went dark. Not because I'd given up writing or anything, far from it. The agent was awesome and said she wants to see my manuscript....after it's shortened a bit.

So I spent the summer carefully performing liposuction, nipping and tucking and sometimes restructuring. But at the same time, I really studied my writing. 

I love it. It's good. 

I want to continue doing this for ages and ages. But I'm just now getting how Looooooong it really does take to get published. And I realized that I was okay with that. 

Why? Because I decided that I couldn't wait around for the golden egg of royalties to drop into my lap to improve my financial situation. I have other skills beside writing. And those who love me best have been nudging me to get those skills polished and marketable. 

I realized I can do both. I can pursue both dreams.

I knew it would be difficult.

A challenge. 

A Mount Everest of tasks and responsibility.

And my track record for following through has never been awesome.

Except, now that I'm back on a college campus (after a hiatus of more than a decade) I'm not the same person I was before. I don't procrastinate my assignments. I usually have them done a day or two before they are due. I'm getting straight A's (yeah, yeah, its only a month into the school year...but still!). 

I also walk a half hour every morning (*a truly happy time with my iPod).

I make breakfast for five kids.

Help five kids with homework every afternoon. 

Cook dinner every night.  

Keep up with laundry (sorta...not folding still counts right?).

And on weekends, I've been able to get something done on my novel. In fact, I've discovered a few new ideas and my writing feels fresher than it has in a long time.

Perhaps everyone should try going back to school in their thirties...we have a much better work ethic and a better understanding of priorities.

I do need to let a couple of things go, however. And guess what...the blog gets the ax. Not permanently, I hope. Who knows, now that I'm 'signing off,' I might just gravitate back here more often.

As it is, I am the author of one YA fantasy novel and several other partial novels (all yet to be published). 

I am a happy wife and a mom of five energetic boys.

I am a college student, pursuing my Bachelors in Interpreting for the Deaf.

I still love writing. 

I still love fencing.

I still love immersing myself in a good book.

I still love art.

 I still love baking.

I still love so many, many things. 

But if my week was a pie chart, some of that stuff is gets a pretty skinny slice nowadays.

And that's okay with me right now. I hope you understand.

'Til next time!

Books as a Sanctuary

It is past midnight and I should be in bed. 

I spent seven of the last eight hours at Family Night at my oldest's Boy Scout Camp...or on the road to get to its lovely location: Damascus, Arkansas. And with the four other boys in the back of the van, it felt like we were driving all the way to the Middle Eastern Damascus and possibly ready for some Peace Talks when we got there.

When we got home and carried the (very dirty) little boys up to their beds, I remembered that tomorrow is another Swim Meet. That starts at 7am. And it lasts six hours. And Daddy will be out of town. And I am on the volunteer roster.

Dang.

So, I let my honey crawl into bed and I headed to Walmart. (What did we do without 24hour grocery stores?) I stocked up on Pop-Tarts, Blueberry Muffins and a box of Jimmy Dean breakfast sandwiches and headed home. I should have gone to bed just then. But I had to check email for the list of swimming events for tomorrow and then I found a new post from a favorite blogger.... you know how it goes.

This time, when I read that post, it opened up a tender area in my heart that I don't talk about very much. 

The post, by Fizzygrrl, is about the power of words and writing. And how it saved her from 8th grade. 

(Caution: Though I love Fizzygrrl and her messages and emotions, she does use a lot of profanity. Not for the tender reader. Caveat Lector.)

Fizzygrrl's honesty touched me and I couldn't go to sleep until I wrote a little something about books and stories and how they saved me. She was saved from the cruelty of the classroom. I was saved from the chaos of my homelife.

Now, my family sometimes reads this blog, and I'm not going to air any dirty laundry. But just the facts of our situation during my middle school years might illustrate just a little.

My Dad decided to change careers when I was in 3rd grade. He was going to become an attorney. So by 4th grade, we'd moved from Iowa to Oklahoma City so he could go to Law School. 

For anyone who's never been to Oklahoma City, the place is huge. Sprawling. There are no geographical boundaries on this place, it just goes on and on, bleeding into Mustang, Moore, Midwest City.  I had already lived in several towns and states before then; the place I'd lived the longest being the well-known truckstop town of Winnemucca, Nevada. 

Yeah, I was going places.

So, we move to this huge city. My dad starts law school. Night school. Because he worked days at the courthouse as a bailiff to support our family of six. 

But its not quite enough, so my mom takes on babysitting in our home. Four little kids at first, then sometimes as many as eight. 

And the biggest house we can afford close to the university is a two bedroom rental. My bedroom was about 10' x 10' square with a set of bunks on each side. The boys' and the girls'.

It was snug, I'll tell you, but we had friends with a family of nine in a three bedroom and they had a set of bunks in the dining room, so we thought we had it good! At least we could take turns in the bedroom changing with the door shut.

But by the time I reached Middle School, the snug little house was beginning to feel cramped. We'd all grown in size and personality.


(This is the actual house. Someone spruced it up, but I bet it's still tiny inside. )

And we'd also grown in appetites. In addition to babysitting Monday through Friday, my mom picked up a paper route in our neighborhood.
She got up at 4:30 every morning, got her papers, came home and woke up a few kids to help.
Sundays everybody helped, because the papers were so monstrous. So we folded papers in our living room for a half hour, then loaded up our over-the-shoulder-paper-bags and the backseat of our Maverick. 

My mom would park it every few blocks and we'd do our side of the street and come back for more papers. It was great in the summer. The worst kind of awful in the winter.

Some days, we'd groan and refuse to get up and my mom would do it on her own.
Hundreds of papers.
Alone.

She is amazing.

Then it would be breakfast and the babysitting kids would be dropped of by their parents and we'd get dressed for school and start our day for real.

School. Homework. Dinner. Family Scriptures. Stories and Bed.

Start all over again.

But that part you just read and skipped over...Stories?

That was the best part of the day. 

My mom would read to us. She was a wonderful reader. She did all the voices and would speed up or pause in all the right places. She also told "head stories". We begged her to write them down someday and publish them. Most are forgotten, now. But she would come up with tales that were exciting and adventuresome and had children just the same ages as us, doing all sorts of wonderful things that we longed to do.

But if Storytime was the best part of the day, then Saturdays and trips to the Library were the best part of the week. We'd usually fill at least one brown grocery bag with the books we'd borrow. And I know my mother must have paid a fortune in fines over the years. 

But for me, the library was my sanctuary.

I can still remember what the Bell Isle Branch looked like and its been over 20 years since I've set foot in the place. It was huge and circular with floor to ceiling windows that alternated with bookshelves. It was spacious. My family's house could fit in the open area in front of the circulation desk. 

And the stories I read...Adventures. Mysteries. Sweet Teen Romances (I loved Ned Nickerson, Nancy Drew's boyfriend). These were all escapes from the rest of the reality I faced each day.

Do any of you remember the suitcase full of books, hauled around by the heroine in "Moonrise Kingdom"?

That was me in middle school.

It wasn't the coal mines of West Virginia. I didn't live in a drug-riddled slum. But it was harsh and it was emotionally demanding. And I couldn't face it.

So I escaped.

With a book.

I still do.

I'm packing a book to the Swim Meet tomorrow, right next to the Blueberry Muffins.

Long live stories. Long live the storytellers.

These are the things that get us through. 

Was there a special book that got you through a difficult time? 

Here's a post about books I read last fall while in the hospital with a sick child.

Read-Aloud Faves We're Raving About

I am a Mom first. My title of 'blogger' comes somewhere around 8th or 9th on the list of badges I wear. That is the only excuse I'll give for my month-long absence from the blogging world. I'm a Mom...'Nuff said.

As the weather's been (finally) warming up the past month, my preschooler and  I have been taking lots of walks to the library. We live within walking distance of a LIBRARY!!! (Dream come true, I'm telling you!) So we load up the hefty canvas bag of picture books, Middle Grade books, YA books, and kid movies and pull out the little guy's "motorcycle" (envision tough looking plastic tricycle) and walk the half mile to our new library.

(via arkansasbusiness.com)

Isn't it cool-looking! And it has lots of awesome-sauce inside!

Today, I wanted to share some of the super gems we've found inside these walls. First of all is one of our staples: Elephant & Piggie books by the ever-funny Mo Willems.

If you haven't read these books, stop right now and go pick up one. These are great for any kiddo between the ages of 2-6. But I find these are especially great for the fidgety kind. The words are multi-sized with lots of emotion. Its not just reading at a monotone. But shouting and whispering and groaning and crying. For example:

All these emotions in one book. And there are a TON of them! I couldn't afford to buy them all, so I'm reallllly glad that Libraries are around to foot the bill and make them available to all of us.

These are also great for early readers. Lots of simple words. But NOT BORING....AT ALL!

My older kids still pick them up and laugh. 

Real humor, real humanity (even though they are animals), real emotions. 

'Caveat Lector'...after reading a couple, especially at full volume, you might need a Big Gulp to rehydrate your vocal chords. :)

Another fun couple of books are two I brought with me to our elementary school's Reading Is Fundamental  winter program. Let me tell you, the kids Looooooooooooved them. They wanted tons more time with these books and had a hard time going to pick out their own free book. 

Our theme for the day was "Let your Imagination go Wild" and these two really fit the bill.

(Images via chrisvandusen.com)

In the first book, author/illustrator has Jack telling his dad all about the awesome car, HE would build, and boy, does he pull out the stops, from gel-filled bumpers that don't crumple to a snack bar to a robot and beyond. Just watch the eyes of a kid reading this book for a the first time and you will not bemoan the future of the next generation. Promise.

The next book, Jack has a conversation with his mom about their boring, run-of-the-mill house and the ideas he has for improving it. Again, it is filled with lots of pink and turquoise and mid-century kitschy-cool blended with Jetson-esque remodeling.

The kids really got excited about this, as each room becomes more outlandish and outstanding. Here's an image of the kitchen, the FIRST room that is described.

It gets better...it really does. And there are glimpses of the car from the first book, which are fun 'Easter eggs' for the kids to find on their multiple readings afterwards. Which there will be. I promise.

Another fun read, we only discovered this year was "Traction Man". If any of you have sons into action figures or who had action figures yourselves or had brothers, buddies, or friends who had them, then you will enjoy this wonderful book that takes a look into the life of the new Christmas present and his exploration of his surroundings and heroic activities that day.

But what happens when Granny gives Traction Man a wonderful gift???

You have to read! There is a sequel that takes place at the beach with some new Barbie-esque friends. And it looks like there is another one out that I haven't read yet:

Looks good!!!

I'm noticing a trend here of Author/Illustrators. Well, we shall keep that up with my last recommendation with the ever-wonderful, Lauren Child. My family hadn't heard of her until 3-4 years ago when some friends introduced us to the fun TV series, 'Charlie and Lola' based on Child's books. We watched all of them available on DVD at our local library. We were hooked. And I polished my British accent so I could read the REAL books aloud to my crew without making them protest, "Say it right, Mom!!!" My all-time favorites are the one about picky eating and the one about Lola's make-believe friend, Soren Lorenson. 

The way the book was printed to make Soren there, but not there in the illustrations was simply amazing. You have to check out the book to see what I mean...I'm not spoiling. :)

Below is another book I love, just because I am a bibliophile and I HATE it when the book I want from the library or bookshop is NOT there! Child totally captures that feeling.  

Lauren Child's 'Clarice Bean' books are great. At least one is a picture book, and I believe the rest are upper elementary chapter books which are great for the almost-tweener.

But one of my favorites of hers is "Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Book?"

I am planning to share this one for next fall's RIF day. (Shhh! Don't tell.)

In this wonderful read-aloud, Herb has been cutting the pictures out of his books and when he is sucked into his fairy tale book one night, he discovers the consequences of messing about with good books. Its' like a fractured fairytale/fairytale retold with wonderful illustrations and story line. And lots of humor. I mean, Goldilocks is the Antagonist!

(via mylearning.org)

Made my Happily-Ever-After heart go pitter-pat. Absolutely loved.

So what about you? Do you have a favorite author or illustrator or storybook series? Please share? I love to get new recommendations. :)

Finding an Achor

I needed some music therapy this afternoon. I started working part-time a couple weeks ago. But today, I had to work a split shift with a crazy picking up/dropping off of Daniel a few times with a very understanding friend/babysitter (in the pouring rain). This included transferring the car seat each time and cell phone on the low-battery. I missed several calls and almost missed a vital text.

I was twenty minutes late picking up the elementary kiddos who were huddled in the picnic pavilion waiting patiently. But then two fought over the front seat, and because my judgement wasn't as wise as Solomon's one ended up screaming at me and his brother and refused to buckle his seatbelt (so we could all go home) then, when he did, told us all he hated us. Thanks, and all that. Once home, he refused to leave the car. I insisted. He got out, slammed the door so hard, I was surprised it didn't break a window, and I swatted him (not nearly so hard). Then he stormed upstairs (good...time out for the both of us) and I walked the dog in the pouring rain.

Then when I was dry, the other boys proffered their report cards and I looked them over. Well done, the two of you. I took out the one of the boy who was upstairs and nearly broke down in tears.

This boy can be so sweet and so kind and so thoughtful. He always has the highest praise for his angelic behavior at school. But he had nearly straight "1"s through all the criteria for literacy and math. This translates to mean he is achieving low levels of progress toward meeting standards.

Everything from: Reads with fluency and accuracy, through Uses addition and subtraction strategies to solve two-step problem solving.

In December when I sat down with teachers and staff and heard the results of the tests that he took, I was relieved because they backed up my gut feeling. This son is smart, but not in reading or even with some math skills. Yep, IQ is 120. But my 8 year old can't read much more than a beginning first-grader. But at least these tests meant that he qualified as a child with learning disabilities and could receive the help he needed.

But looking over the report card, it felt like I was standing back out in the rain, but this time without a jacket. What will the future hold for this child? How can I help him? How can I help all of them as I am feeling weary and so unskilled for their needs, emotionally and academically?

And what about my dreams? I took a break from writing during the holidays and now that the computer is "fixed", Microsoft Word sometimes thinks that it is 2010 and I cannot access my manuscripts when I want to work on them. There is an opportunity to attend a writing conference in two months that I was feeling all sparkly about a few days ago. But reality, budget and time restraints open my eyes to the truth. Not now. Not the season.

So on this cold, dreary January afternoon. I needed something to cheer me up. This song has pretty, it has color. And it reflects the cry of my heart to my Heavenly Father. In the midst of crazy and confusing and feeling unable. He anchors me to life, to truth, to hope.

Six Haircuts

Why can't my boys be like this when I cut their hair? Now that they are growing up, they have definite opinions about their hair styles. My middle-schooler wanted his hair practically buzzed...??? My 4th grader wanted really long bangs. And my kindergartener wanted a mohawk. Really?

Yes. He did.

I did go shorter for some boys and a little longer on others and I promised they could gel it into spikes sometimes, but nobody got a mohawk, that's for sure. Too conservative for that, baby.

Is it because I'm past 35 that kids seem too trendy in elementary school, or is it because they wear uniforms that hair is the only way to "express themselves"?

I dunno. But when more that two hours had past and I had finished five boys' and one man's haircuts, I wanted a reaction more like Calvin's.

"That's great. Perfect."

Washed Clean

My boys have enjoyed the new park by our house. My 2 year old and 5 year old especially love the shallow rocky creek that runs through it. They love to cross back and forth, to toss pebbles in and to balance on the rocks in the middle. But so many days when we come home from the park, we have muddy kiddos in the backseat of the car. It seems I have given more baths since we moved here than any other time!

(And I still keep forgetting to buy a plug for that tub when I am at Wal-Mart. Why is that!)

So when, for my scripture study this morning, I was reading an article about Jesus Christ by Elder Boyd K. Packer, I was reminded of a poem he wrote and shared in General Conference several years ago. I have read this many times and shared in a talk and a couple of lessons since then. It is great for all of us living in this wonderful, but messy world.

Perhaps we don't suffer from 'spiritual leprosy', but there are other ways of being spiritually unclean. Whether we just need a daily bath of repentant prayer or we need a long lasting cure for 'spiritual cancer', we need the Savior. Because "all are fallen, all are lost."

We can't help but become dirty and soiled. We all need to be cleansed.

I so need to be cleansed.

Washed Clean

In ancient times the cry “Unclean!”

Would warn of lepers near.

“Unclean! Unclean!” the words rang out;

Then all drew back in fear,

Lest by the touch of lepers’ hands

They, too, would lepers be.

There was no cure in ancient times,

Just hopeless agony.

No soap, no balm, no medicine

Could stay disease or pain.

There was no salve, no cleansing bath,

To make them well again.

But there was One, the record shows,

Whose touch could make them pure;

Could ease their awful suffering,

Their rotting flesh restore.

His coming long had been foretold.

Signs would precede His birth.

A Son of God to woman born,

With power to cleanse the earth.

The day He made ten lepers whole,

The day He made them clean,

Well symbolized His ministry

And what His life would mean.

However great that miracle,

This was not why He came.

He came to rescue every soul

From death, from sin, from shame.

For greater miracles, He said,

His servants yet would do,

To rescue every living soul,

Not just heal up the few.

Though we’re redeemed from mortal death,

We still can’t enter in

Unless we’re clean, cleansed every whit,

From every mortal sin.

What must be done to make us clean

We cannot do alone.

The law, to be a law, requires

A pure one must atone.

He taught that justice will be stayed

Till mercy’s claim be heard

If we repent and are baptized

And live by every word. …

If we could only understand

All we have heard and seen,

We’d know there is no greater gift

Than those two words—“Washed clean!” 

I love this poem. It speaks to my inner self in ways that normal words cannot. But then there was this section of Elder Packer's article that was very illustrative of the great power Jesus had within himself. It helped me see the Atonement in a way I had not yet seen it before. Perhaps it will bless your life too. I just had to share.

Atonement of Jesus Christ

Before the Crucifixion and afterward, many men have willingly given their lives in selfless acts of heroism. But none faced what Christ endured. Upon Him was the burden of all human transgression, all human guilt. And hanging in the balance was the Atonement. Through His willing act, mercy and justice could be reconciled, eternal law sustained, and that mediation achieved without which mortal man could not be redeemed.

He by choice accepted the penalty in behalf of all mankind for the sum total of all wickedness and depravity; for brutality, immorality, perversion, and corruption; for addiction; for the killings and torture and terror—for all of it that ever had been or all that ever would be enacted upon this earth. In so choosing He faced the awesome power of the evil one, who was not confined to flesh nor subject to mortal pain. That was Gethsemane!

How the Atonement was wrought we do not know. No mortal watched as evil turned away and hid in shame before the Light of that pure being. All wickedness could not quench that Light. When what was done was done, the ransom had been paid. Both death and hell forsook their claim on all who would repent. Men at last were free. Then every soul who ever lived could choose to touch that Light and be redeemed.

By this infinite sacrifice, “through [this] Atonement of Christ, all mankind may be saved, by obedience to the laws and ordinances of the Gospel” 

(from "Who is Jesus Christ?" by President Boyd K. Packer, President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. Ensign/Liahona magazine, March 2008)