Since my last post I’ve been through the gamut emotionally but am now moving in a healthy direction. I am practically content for the first time in months. I am involved in a small group, helping my fellowship with overseas work, am looking at a week in the Philippians to help build a fellowship and I’m days away from the writing conference. This state has allowed for me to more clearly see areas I need to change in, such as finances, and to more adequately take steps to grow in these areas.
None of this to say my life has become perfect, but I am content where I am and with what I am doing. I am listening to the Father’s guidance for growth (one thing at a time). And I’m not dancing on the edge of depression right now.
Maybe it’s the seasons, maybe it’s the help I’ve had recently or maybe it’s a change of mind set which has made me feel that the Father is close to me. I’ve known it in my head all along, but I’ve really struggled to feel it for the last year and a half. I held to the knowledge that He would never leave me nor forsake me, that He wouldn’t be done with me until He took me, but the knowledge couldn’t creep into my wayward feelings until now.
Now one of my greatest struggles is my writing. I keep writing but the words have been falling flat, lifeless. I think I really need to sit down and focus on each scene, the depth of emotion in them and allow myself to feel them. I have been learning how to leave crazy emotions behind better and I guess writing is a good exercise for that. A little scary though when you’re writing a scene where the character literally faces death – and then dies. Or another with a child so lonely they run from anyone who speaks to him. So much pain, fear… scary emotions in my opinion, but necessary in writing and common in life.
I’m hoping the conference this week will help me breathe life back into my scenes and my pen and continue to help me refine my craft as well as my focus. Let my eyes be on the one who is always with me, who’s hand covers mine and who’s breath fills my soul. Now to just get the breath onto the page.
The year has come and gone and for the first calendar year in quite some time, I’ve actually staid in one spot. This should cry stability and contentment but even the switching of calendars cannot achieve this. Staying in one place does not always make one any happier than constant moving. Obviously, it’s a state of mind – and mine isn’t so content.
This is not to say that I dislike my job, the city I’m living in or even the basic structure of my life. However, I am missing something. What this is, I’m not completely sure yet but I know in the last few months I have struggled to ignore the growing discontentment within me.
A few months ago, I truly could not handle the discontentment and had all the symptoms of an emotional breakdown, though only in certain areas of my life. I am very good at compartmentalizing it seems. I can figure out some of what caused the break at that point including loneliness and, especially, feeling that I should have fully adjusted to the US after more than a year back. But I haven’t. Not completely. My inability to meet personal expectations is often a strong factor in my mood swings and general discontent. I should be perfect… or at least close (Stop laughing at the crazy person).
Since recognizing my slipping emotional state, I have done what I’m good at – walls. For two months, I have been living fairly emotionally void. I know this is not ideal but I guess I’m not quite able to figure out how to handle the irrational emotions or change my situation.
I’ve had the irrational desire to just up and move – anywhere. A case of running away from problems, I think. I’ve resigned myself to many things in my life and am trying to learn to be content with them. Some are better than others, like singleness, it’s not so bad and I think I might like to keep it for quite some time. Loneliness is another matter, though; as is the insane desire to be truly perfect on this earth.
I’ve been doubting my purpose and path and wondering if the Father even wants to use me anymore. I’m awfully messed up and not positioned very well to be of much service.
And in all of this, I recognize that I am living in defeat and deceit because I know the Word. I know the Truth but I cannot seem to “feel” it. Emotions are truly deceptive and need to be controlled. How, I’m not so sure.
The last few days I’ve been focusing on just a few things to try and get my mind in a better place and keep my emotions in control without being completely void of them.
First of all I know that I am able to live in the Freedom of the Son who continues to love me, pursue me, and mold me even when I sit down and cry like a toddler.
Second, if I constantly question my path and position I will never accomplish anything even little. I must continue forward in faith and contentment keeping my ears tuned to the whisper of my Shepherd for any changes. I must focus on my relationship with Him and do what He has placed in front of me until He says otherwise.
Third, I need help. I know this is not something people love to admit and me least of all but I am not able to move past some of my issues on my own. I cannot reach out for help or even friendship without sabotaging myself. So I am looking into mental health options in my town (Book-based) to help me get past some of the road-blocks that I continue to trip over year after year. Finances would be a struggle with this, of course, but as the Father guides each tentative step I am certain something will change…eventually. This I cling to, this I chant in the depths of night, and this I know is true because He has not forgotten me.
So it's been a long while. I've worked long hours, had a two week holiday and have procrastinated the tedious line edits of my Isaiah project.
I have also been reflecting on the short story. It is truly a different creature than the novel and has left me befuddled. How can I take a reader to an exciting, life changing moment in a character's life in less than 5,000 words? Where's the build-up? Where's the reason to care or the understanding of a foreign world?
Then I realized something. Consider television, not the short comedies, but the 40 minutes(ish) dramas. In their series premier it is their job to draw the viewers into the characters and world in a very short time. The script has probably been attacked and torn down to a minimal amount of pages and yet successful premieres happen every fall. Some of them in worlds completely foreign to us.
How do these writers pull their viewers in so quickly? They do have the advantage of pictures to describe a place when a short story must use words. They also have actors who can breathe life into dialogue and the short story has basic words. Simple words.
And that's the key. Simple. Yes, each character is a complex individual with enthralling stories, pain deep enough to make bullies weep, and passion that burns away doubt. And each fantastical world is brilliant, beautiful, intricate, and highly developed. It is a writer's joy, but it is not necessary for the reader.
As a writer, I must learn when to let the complexities that impassion me sit out for awhile. There might be a place for them, but it's not in every story. Especially the short story.
By the end of the first line, the reader must be in love with the main character - whether that is pity, humor, awe or some other over the top emotion. It must be the first line. Once the reader is in love with the character toss bits and pieces of the pivotal aspects of his/her personality in the midst of some action/tension. While you're at it, through a few hints in of the fantastical world you're dragging your character through - make a passing remark about space aliens or magic. The reader needs to know very quickly this world she's in is not the one she knows so well.
Bring the character to a vital, life-changing situation where a choice must be made. This must be a difficult, gut wrenching choice that chalanges the character's very being and yet it must be resolved in just a few lines. The meat of the short story is the gaining of knowledge for the character to make the choice. This should be done with tension in every paragraph, if not every line. The reader should feel the struggle of the choice as well as the outward tensions (life's in danger, family threatened, the end of the known world...). And you have 5,000 words.
5,000 words to make the readers fall in love with a character, burn with questions, feel the internal and external battle, bring the character to a point of no return and watch him/her jump. Then walk away.
I once thought this was impossible for me. I still don't find it easy, but I began to watch shows with a different eye. What are the points in an episode where I feel for the character(s)? When do I want to cry, scream, hit something? Why? What happened that evoked such emotion? Write it down. Describe with the best of your ability and then do it again and again and again. Write it until you have evoked the same depths of emotion the television show did. Then shorten it.
And now I've tried my hand at a short story. Shy of 5,000 words by only 5 words. I used a world I built for another story, a world I've been refining for three years, but I used brand new characters, a new era, and a new battle. Then I chose the moment in time when my main character was given the opportunity to change her life and be a part of the war tearing apart her world. An easy choice for her, but a harder choice for the one she must accompany. After running for her life, being rescued, coming face-to-face with a new enemy and saving a life, she must talk her way into a chance for a new life. This is the moment she's been waiting for and I have a bit of build up to get her there because both she and her companion must realize it is necessary. Also, after she reaches this point, it takes less than 100 words to resolve it.
Of course, I've fallen in love with my main character and her companion and want to write entire novels about them, but I am forcing myself to consider a series of short stories. I must refine my writing, tighten it. Also, I need to get my name into print if I'm ever going to sell one of my books and the short story is the best way.
I do see the short story as a grand tool for improving my novel writing as well, though. If I can evoke the depth of emotions and tell a riviting story in 5,000 words then I need to make each section of 5000 words in my novel just as riveting and deep. Ideally, this will help me see where the fat in my novels are and how to make them much more... everything. Could the short story be my catalyst to new and better writing? Perhaps. Time will tell.
There is a song, "The More I Seek You" which I have fallen in love with, but there is a line in the song about the cup in the hand of the Lord. The song states "I want to drink from the cup in Your hand." I wonder how many of us really want to drink of this cup, though. Below are my reflections on this one line. A line that has torn at my heart and made me recognize my doubts and fear.
The cup in the hand of the Lord – we do not know its contents, but He asks us to drink. To drink deep with Him no matter. The contents of the cup are intense, overwhelming – beautiful and heart breaking. Each cup is filled to overflowing with:
Sacrifice AND blessing
Loneliness AND love
Pain AND Obedience (peace)
Sorrow AND trust
Passion AND Patience
Each cup is mixed with great hardship and rich blessings. Can we have one without the other? I do not think so. But, on our own, we cannot bear the intensity of any cup. That is why He ask us to drink with Him, not alone. He is strong enough.
I tremble at His feet and stare at the cup.
“What is in it?” I ask.
“Drink with Me.”
“Will it hurt?”
“Drink with Me.”
“I’m frightened. The cup will change me, won’t it?”
He nods.
“It will be too much, more than I can handle.”
He nods.
“I cannot. It will kill me.”
“You can,” He says. “And as you drink, I will hold you closer. Your heart will beat against Mine. Your tears will mix with Mine. Your pain will be Mine. Your death, also My death. Your blessings, My glory. Your trust, My peace. Your patience, My joy. Drink with Me.”
Tears slide down my face. “I am so afraid.”
“Then let me be your courage.”
I turn my eyes from the cup and seek His gaze. Tears shimmer within them. He reaches to me and pulls me to His chest. He kisses my forehead and I feel a tear follow the tender touch of His lips. “Drink with Me.”
The cup is raised.
Still I shake, but I nod my head.
He places the cup to His lips first.
Sorrow tears at my heart as He shudders, His face drawn in pain.
Then the cup is before me. I place my weak, trembling hands over His and close my eyes. Cold metal touches my lips and I drink.
I spend so much time trying to DO something for God. To be important to him by my actions, to be needed and used and, dare I say it, special. But the more I do the less content I am.
I hear again and again how we must learn to rest in him, to patiently wait on Him, to trust Him. And I try, I really do. But I am failing quite miserably at it.
The last year I have felt useless. What am I doing to serve Him? to bring glory to His name? Nothing great. Nothing big. Just little things. I want to do more than the little things. (I don't sound like a spoiled little child, do I?)
If he cannot trust me with the little things why should I ever be worthy of doing "great" things? If I never sit down to listen to Him, open His word, talk with Him and just dwell on the awesomeness of God, can I ever truly bring glory to His name?
I doubt it. I might be able to work myself up into appearing important to other people, but I will never actually be "special". It would be a mirage that quickly vanishes. I want to be more than a mirage but I can't be.
Every breath brings me closer to the moment I vanish in the breeze. Every breath is a chance to change, to learn, to trust. Trust.
It is trust which will bring glory to God. I trust Him for my bread, my breath, my bills, my dreams, my purpose, even with my impatience and nagging questions. I will only learn to trust Him more by spending time with Him, by slowing my day and my mind and taking a few minutes or more and listening.
Reflecting.
Loving.
And then I realize. I will still never actually be special, because who can be compared to Him? And that's okay. He is special and perfect. He is life, Creator, King, Friend and my very heartbeat - and He loves me. Maybe I am a little special to be loved by one so great.
But then, we all are.
Check out the new free verse I posted in Perspectives.
Today I decided it was time to stop trying to maintain two blogs... especially two blogs on the same site. It's not like I'm great at this blogging thing anyway and maintaining two has proved impossible for undisciplined me.
Anyway, I moved all the blogs from my "Writing Life" blog over to this one. They'll be archived June 09, but I put the actual date written at the top of each entry. Maybe having just one will mean I do better with updates... maybe.
Guess it’s finally time to write about the writing conference I attended the second week of May. It was the Colorado Christian Writers’ Conference and amazing. I was exhausted and overwhelmed much of the time, but at the same time was affirmed in my craft, knowledge and call. Although this affirmation does not mean I suddenly know for certain I am “destined” to be a full time writer, it does mean I won’t be letting this dream go without a fight.
And what does this fight look like? It means attacking my “Isaiah” story and stripping it back down and tossing the ending (or moving the ending up since it’s not really strong enough to be a great climactic ending). It means cutting ¼ of what I wrote for that story and reorganizing the rest. It means, for this one WIP, I have a minimum of seven more months until it’s submission worthy and who knows how long beyond that until it’s publishable (if ever, though I’m pretty attached to this story so I don’t think it will ever fade into the background).
This fight also means learning something new – the dreaded short story. If the publishing world was hard before, it is now nearly impossible without a platform and some writing credentials. This means I have a lot to do such as figuring out how to get more people to read my blog (not sure how I’ll do that yet). Also, the magazine world is a bit easier to get into, though the pay is minimal if anything. Magazines prefer short stories. I don’t know how to write a short story. :p
So in the midst of redoing my “Isaiah” book, which has returned to its original title Hand of Freedom, I must start figuring out how to write short stories. Oh, and I haven’t left my “Talia” project yet, either. I guess I’m going to have to figure out this balance between projects pretty quick now or it’ll be ten more years before I get a book out. Of course, if I can figure out the balance and the short stories, this will also mean I’m getting more written and the messages in my heart are getting to people wrapped beautifully (I hope) in deep characters, exciting plot, and emotional relevance.
Well it's been awhile, not surprising. Someday I might actually learn discipline, but I'm not holding my breath.
I've continued working on my two projects and am even brain storming a third. This is great for a writing career, but I feel it is evidence of a dissatisfied mind as well. Things I love have been felling burdensome and my energy level just never comes back (though being pretty sick twice since I last wrote does give a bit of an excuse). I just can't seem to accomplish anything anymore and this has led to a deep discontentment with my life right now.
Now this doesn't mean I'm depressed or crying myself to sleep every night, it means I'm restless and unfocused. I still like my job, my home, my long weekends, the increase of sunny days (though it's brought an excess of pollen with it), and my lazy cat. What specifically is leaving me discontent? The sense there should be something more, that I should be doing something more.
Obviously I battle the Martha complex, add to that three years of seeing a purpose in front of me everyday (even if I didn't think I was doing well) and I'm feeling kinda stuck and just questioning things. Is writing really going to be worthy it? Yes I love delving into new worlds, languages, and minds and discovering the intense stories built in each of these. Yes I dream of being in print and getting my stories into the hands of avid readers longing for tales of magic and quests ingrained with Christian values. But will I ever be good enough to actually accomplish this? Will I ever have the discipline and finances to really see it through? Will I give up?
Part of me wants to scream NO, but another part of me, the overly practical, list making part sees all the ways I'm not cut out for this lifestyle which leaves me wondering. Did I mis-hear God? Is writing my passion and dream, but not what He has in mind for me? Or am I letting the enemy rob the joy of a godly passion?
Despite my doubts and nagging dissatisfaction, I am not quitting. I continue to write and to edit in between recovering from a new illness that strikes every few weeks (and never the swine flu so stop worrying) and the gradual increase of activities as the weather warms. I continue to re-read writing texts and think how to improve and laying my trepidations at the cross where they belong. Add to all that and I'm attending my first writer's conference this next week. It's real close, Estes Park, and Christian. I'm hoping this conference will provide the knowledge I need to go forward at this point, a few contacts, but especially a confirmation that I'm on the right course. This doesn't mean an agent falls in love with my idea or a publisher eagerly requests a full manuscript. This would just be a sense of comfort, an increase of passion, and an overall contentment in the environment of Christian writers and with my own writing (as desperate as it is for a professional editor).
My editor money is going to this conference so it probably won't be until the end of summer until I can get Isaiah sent out for a deep edit. But this could be good as I've been working through a text Self-Editing for Fiction Writers which came highly recommended from several writing sites. Taking my WIP through the steps in this book is slow, time consuming, and sometimes aggravating, but I'm really like the results. A clear story, easier to follow, and cleaner. Now I just need to figure out how to amp up the tension in the middle (yes, I suffer from the dreaded sagging middle), and I think I’ll have all the steps I know how to do so when I send my WIP to an editor she'll be finding things I haven't learned about yet and be able to see glaring plot issues rather than a mountain of amateur mistakes. I hope this will make the editing experience a true learning environment truly preparing me for the vicious publishing world and improved writing in general.
There's so much to learn and so many things I want to improve on, but each day is a struggle with the basics - joy, contentment, and basic self-discipline. My eyes are all around me searching for purpose even as my head and heart tell me, "Look up. In Christ alone is your purpose. Rest and take everything one step at a time. He knows what you need and when you need to learn it. Rest."
So how am I doing balancing two projects. Well, so-so. Tells you a lot, right?
It’s a struggle still. I have broken bits of ideas for what I’m currently writing, my “Talia” project, while I’m also reading editing books and going through my “Isaiah” project piece by piece (not much fun :p). This is making for some interesting crossover. I’ll be looking at how to add sensory details to a scene in my “Isaiah” project and just want to add this brilliant plot twist which would mean re-working the entire manuscript. Probably not a good idea. But then as I’m writing on my “Talia” project I find my critical eye is getting a little worse leaving me dissatisfied with many scenes because of weak description, not enough detail, or poor word choice. This leaves me dreading the actually creation process.
I haven’t given up yet, I’m just still trying to learn how to keep the explosion ideas focused on the “Talia” project and the critical eye focused only on the “Isaiah” project. One of those issues of balance that I’ve never been very good at.
I think my 3-day weekends will be a huge help in finding this balance and actually getting a decent amount of work done on both projects. I would love to have “Isaiah” ready for a professional editor by this summer (if I can save the money for it) knowing it is the best work I have ever done and as solid in all the pivotal areas (characterization, pace, description, dialogue and suspense) as I am currently capable of – but that means a lot more work is ahead of me for this project. I would also love to have the first draft of “Talia” completed at the same time so I can do the first read-through and broad edits (like plot holes, weak characters, and dropped threads).
At this point, though, I have barely 5,000 words on my “Talia” project and with a goal of 70,000 to 80,000 words, I’ve got a ways to go. Also, I’ve only gotten through 8 chapters of “Isaiah” and out of 38, that’s not much of a dent and I think the last two chapters I did I was too tired and probably should do them again. Argh.
But I am not quitting and I will go one step at a time, just like I’ve been learning in my personal life lately. And when I fail to complete a step, I get to try again. The world doesn’t end and my chance at “success” has not passed me by. My choice is to persevere even when I’m discouraged, even when life pulls me away and my body keeps me in bed for 12+ hours a day. I came back to the states to write and it would be pretty sad if I give up just because life hasn’t gone as smoothly as I’d hoped. Guess I’m finding how strong I am, or at least how strong I trust Him who made me.
It probably seems that I've dropped off the face of the earth, especially with my writing. Wasn't one of the reasons I returned to the states to write?? That's what I keep telling myself, but moving, grad work, and just settling into life seems to be pulling me by the hair away from what I want to do.
However, this does not mean I've done nothing. No, on the contrary, I completed my edits to my WIP and have a Creative Writing major in college looking it over. I have all the parts ready to submit to ABNA (tonight) and I'm saving money toward paying an editor to go through my WIP and take it from good to great.
There is a sense of accomplishment just getting something finished and into other hands. I know it is the strongest piece I've written yet, though I don't think it is strong enough to sell... not yet, at least. I am starting to understand the importance of walking away from a piece though, take a week (or four) and do nothing related to a project and not only will you see errors you were blind to before, but you will also have a renewed love interest in the work, rather than tired annoyance.
With my WIP in the hands of another I've started outlining another manuscript. It is connected to the WIP I just waved good-bye to so I may not do much with it for a week or so. Just let it marinate and maybe explore completely different ideas as well. I've had many, but none of them make my blood race and keep me awake half the night as the characters, world and over arching plot of Isaiah and his friends. Maybe I need to learn how to fall in love with several ideas, acknowledging my passion for all, but bouncing between them for actual work. I just have to convince my heart it really isn't cheating, it's more like having three or four children, not three or four husbands. ;) I think that might be my next writing goal - have 3 ideas for 3 unconnected books that I fall in love with. This might be a struggle, but I'll let you know how it goes.
27year old administrative coordinator for the Communications department of a non-profit in a new state, Colorado. Welcome to my life of eternal transition!
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