Here's the Thing About Being Writer

No matter what is happening in your life, words must be written, deadlines must be met, projects must be completed, edited, rewritten.

After spending two weeks in China, I arrived home knowing that I had several tasks before me. The first was to incorporate my new daughter into family life. My second was to keep my other four children from feeling displaced. My third was to write.

It isn't easy to be creative when your thoughts are caught up in the reality of life. The mini traumas and the major ones, the doctor appointments, fevers, medicines. The laundry and dishes and cooking.

It isn't easy to be creative, but if you're truly going to be an author, you must be.

Sometimes that means allowing yourself to daydream, to imagine the scenes that you'll put into your book. Sometimes it means sitting down and forcing yourself to put words to page. Any words. All words. Whatever is in your mind and heart.

I have found myself doing both things in the past ten days. I've got a proposal for my second book in the HEROES FOR HIRE series due in a couple of weeks, and no matter how jet lagged or sick (we've been stricken by the flu) I am, the writing will get done. That's how I've made a name for myself with my editors, and it is how I continue to sell to Harlequin. Good books turned in on time. It is my MO, and I refuse to slip into anything else.

I suppose there is a life lesson in here somewhere. Something about learning how much we really can accomplish when we're motivated enough. Maybe something even more profound about God giving us the time we need when we spend our time pursuing His will.

Unfortunately, I'm too tired to wax poetic about my writing journey. Instead, I will simply say that being an author means reaching beyond what you think you can do and discovering that you are much, much more capable than you ever imagined.

Blessings on your writing journey!

PS..the photo is of my beautiful treasures. I'm one blessed writer mom!

The Aftermath

Just so you know I'm not superwoman -

Yep, that's the pile of laundry that didn't get done while I was finishing the manuscript. It has to get done now, because my sister comes tomorrow to take care of the kids while hubby and I are in China.

It's a lot of laundry, but, then, I've got a lot of kids!

The Week In Review

The photos say it all. Book 15 or 14 or whatever it is, completed, edited, polished, packaged. Every time I finish a book, I feel like a tree killer. Piles of paper in the garbage can. Piles of paper on my desk.

Piles and piles and piles.

310 pages of manuscript printed out and read. Edited and reread. Re-printed and read again.

Aside from making sure my book was ready to go, I began packing, completed paperwork that must be hand carried to China, shopped for the stuff Sassy E needs for her performance. Typed up lists for my sisters and mom (who will be staying here).

And realized I am adopting a child.

Really and truly and for sure.

Bringing her home and making her part of us at the same time we allow ourselves to become part of her world, her life, her experiences. All her goods and bads and in betweens, all her challenges and triumps, swirling into what we already have.Our challenges and triumphs, our goods and bads and in betweens. Until there is no longer an us, no longer any her, but simply a family.

There is something beautiful and profound in that. Something beyond words or even thought. Something that wells up and spills out, overflowing into everything I do and think and say.

I finished my book this week, but more than that happened. I realized I was adopting a child. Really and truly and forever.

And it changed me.

Four days.

One down. One to go.

With my trip to China looming, it's important that I stay on top of my writing schedule. This is much easier said than done. I'm trying, but my big fear is that I'll fall behind. My next book is due June 15th. I leave for China June 17th.

Yikes!

Thankfully, book 14 was just accepted, and my editor did not need me to revise it. That is a HUGE relief off my mind. I was trying to figure out how I'd finish book fifteen and revise book fourteen and get ready to leave for China. No matter how many ways I tried to make it happen in my mind, it never did.

So, I've been saved the fate of having too much to do. Instead, I have enough to do.

Which may actually be the same as too much.

Oh well. Better to be busy than bored. And I definitely am busy!

Ready or not, here we come!

I know. This is my writing blog. However, my mind is caught up in all things related to Q, so.....

We've finally got approval to travel to meet her!

We leave June 17th and will be back July 1 or 2.

We should meet Q on June 22.

I've got to get RUNNING FOR COVER in to my editor before then.

Here We Go Again!

I'm off and running on my next book. RUNNING FOR COVER is the first book in a three book miniseries about a sibling group separated by adoption.

I guess adoption has been on my mind a lot lately.

So, for Mother's Day, my wonderful husband bought me the perfect gift - a new laptop!

As you may recall, my old laptop died a quick, brutal death. Now it is nothing more than a carcass waiting to be buried or brought back to life. I'm not sure which will happen.

As I admired my new writing tool, I was reminded of the days when my sons were much younger and believed that new sneakers would make them run faster. Each boy did the same. He'd put on his new shoes and run through the yard, shouting, "Look! Look how fast I am now, Mom!" And, in those sweet moments, it seemed as if they really were.

Today I will type on my new computer, and I will hope that the same shoe fairy who sprinkled magic speed-up dust on my sons' shoes has also sprinkled magic speed-up dust on the keyboard of my laptop, so that I can type faster than ever and shout for my boys to come see. "Look! Look how fast I am now, kids!"

Happy Mother's Day!

Gotta Love This Cover

My May release is the last in the Sinclair brothers series and the first book I've had with hero and heroine on the cover. I'm not sure if people on covers is a new trend for Love Inspired Suspense or if it's new trend for my books or if it isn't a trend at all, but my last two Sinclair brothers stories have had people on them. I've always preferred to have scenes on my book covers, but I may be changing my mind. The cover for DEFENDER'S DUTY does make me ask questions, and the book covers that make me ask questions are usually on the books I end up buying.

Today, I begin work on the first book in my new miniseries. My goal is to mail the book out by June 8. I hope to fly to China sometime after that, so I really need the book complete and in Melissa's hands by then. In order to do this, I've got to increase my word count by 500 - 1000 words a day. We'll see how that goes!

I've got nothing insightful or interesting to say, so I'm off to begin my word count for the day.

The End

Those are some of my favorite words. They mean - done, complete, finished. They mean a goal met, a contract fulfilled, a success rather then a failure. They mean I have followed through, persevered and kept going. They mean that when times were tough, when kids were cranky, when I was cranky, I gritted my teeth, bore it and just kept right on going.

They mean that I am not just a dreamer, I am an author.

They mean that hour after hour of typing letters, words and sentences have not been in vain.

They mean the vision in my head is now something I can hold in my hands.

And they mean a new beginning, a fresh start, another chance to make it just right.

Which is what I have today!

The manuscript is complete. The author is happy. And maybe that pile of laundry will finally get clean!

Worst Fears Confirmed (double posted from my adoption blog)

Or so it seems.

My gut instinct on the swine flu thing was right on. According to the Rumor Queen, some agencies are reporting that no referrals are being issued this month and that CCAA (china center of adoption affairs)will be shut down for 20 - 30 days. I'm not buying the shut down, and I really don't think referrals will be held up. I don't think this will effect LOA by more than a day or two. What I do believe is that no travel approvals will be issued until after the swine flu outbreak has weakened its hold.

Of course, this happened just days after I cancelled a book signing at the biggest book expo in north America. Not only do I not get to see my daughter in May, I've had to disappoint my publishing house for nothing.

Please excuse me while I go drown my sorrows in chocolate.

Profound Writer Thoughts

Ha!

Yesterday was take your kids to work day at my husband's job. I would have had several hours to write in complete SILENCE, but my eldest son had piano guild and I had to drive him there, wait for him to complete 45 minutes of evaluation and then drive him back to my husband's workplace. Although I was supposed to pick the kids up sometime after lunch, I figured I'd rush home and write for an hour and a half while the house was empty (and what a blessed thing that is!).

So, off I went. Back to the house and the computer.

That's where things got dicey.

My intentions were good, but I started having an internal dialogue that went something like this -

"Shirlee, you need to sit down at the computer and write."

"I would, but I'm hungry. I need to eat."

"You need to write."

"But I can't write when I'm hungry. I might actually lose weight and what a catastrophe that would be." Cue violin music here.

"You NEED TO WRITE."

"Okay, I need to write. But do I want to write? I mean really want to?"

"Yes. You want to write because you need to write, because you get paid to write, because you actually enjoy writing. So WRITE."

At which point I sat myself down in front of the computer, pulled up my manuscript and would like to say I began writing.

But that would be a lie and lies are not allowed in Love Inspired (not to mention the fact that God strictly prohibits them).

So, I decided I needed to check on a few blogs I follow, but the entire time I perused the blogs, that annoying voice in my head was chanting, WRITE, WRITE, WRITE, WRITE.

And the other voice (because, of course, there are two) was whining, I JUST WANT TO RELAX FOR A FEW MINUTES.

And finally the chanting, annoying voice won out. I started writing. The words started flowing. I forgot I was hungry and that I'd rather read a few blogs and relax. I forgot writing was work that I wasn't sure I felt like doing. The ideas burst onto the page in words and phrases for ten whole minutes.

And then the phone rang. It was my husband, telling me it was time to pick the kids up. I saved my manuscript, walked out my front door, and a little voice whispered in head, "see, I TOLD you you should have started writing as soon as you got home!"

So, in case you're ever wondering what goes through my head before I begin writing...refer to this post. It explains everything! And in case you ever start having a similar internal dialogue with yourself...go with the voice that's screaming WRITE. It'll save you time, because for authors, that voice always wins in the end.

Thank Goodness For My Husband

The adoption is really wreaking havoc on my brain. For well over two weeks, I've been saving my continuity book on a USB device (I'm sure it is called something else, but I'm not computer savvy enough to know the name). At least that is what I thought I was doing. Until my wonderful laptop CRASHED. As in...completely stopped working. As in....no way to access my file. So, feeling rather smug that I'd done exactly what my-husband-the-computer-guy is always telling me to do and saved my document on a backup disk, I pulled out the USB device, plugged it into my desktop and realized that I HAD NOT BEEN SAVING the document to the device. Suddenly, I was three and a half weeks from deadline and missing the last ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY PAGES of my document.

I did not cry. Although, there were some tears in my eyes. Instead, I swallowed down panic and began rewriting those 120 pages while my husband (the most wonderful real-life hero in the world) went to work on my dead laptop and confirmed that it was, indeed, dead.

I rewrote thirty pages of document that night, the sick feeling in my stomach never quite leaving. I write fast, but not so fast that I could finish in time to meet my deadline. I'm a stickler for getting my stuff in on time, so this was a very big deal. I knew I'd have to call my editor and tell her that I might need an extra couple of weeks. Meanwhile, my husband wrestled the hard drive from my laptop, brought it to work and was able to extract all but ten pages of my work!

Yay, hubby! Yay, me! Yay, Emily who will now not get a panicked, tearful call from a panicked and tearful author who stupidly was not saving to the right file on her computer.

Crisis averted. Lesson learned. Now every time I save, I save to both my USB and my hard drive.

In honor of his hero status, I am posting a photo of my hero hubby signing the adoption papers for Q. And, of course, I couldn't resist also posting pictures of my cheeky (thanks for the word, Brenda) new daughter.

Introducing Q!!!

Today, we received the surprise of our lives. Approval from China to adopt our fifth child. Q was born March 31, 2002. She is seven years old and waiting in Chongqing. I do not believe in labeling my kids or in limiting them, so I've kept from mentioning Q's special need (which, I think, is obvious). However, I am happy to answers any questions about it.

We are beside ourselves with joy. As always, God's timing proves beyond what any of us anticipated. We were expecting to wait at least another 1.5 month for China to say 'yes' to our request to adopt Q. Instead of the average of fifty-odd days, it took only 32 for our approval.

Please pray for us as we begin making travel plans. Pray for Q. She is old enough to understand what is about to happen, and I can't help wondering if she's scared. Imagine being told that strangers were coming from a strange place to take you from everything you have ever known. Imagine that those strangers spoke a language you didn't understand. That is what is happening to Q.

Every time I think about it, I want to cry.

Where Art Thou, Spring?

With your green shoots and vivid colors?
Your chirping birds and azure sky?
Where art thou, spring?
Did the thrill of winter offend?
The joy of icy storms and snow covered cow patties drive you away?
Where art thou, spring?
Not here in Washington.
That is for sure.

Hahahahahahah.

That is maniacal laughter. I've been driven to it by this:

"SPOKANE, Wash.- With at least another inch of new snow in Spokane County the record snowfall record for a season has officially been shattered. Spokane County broke the record on Sunday by about a tenth of an inch. The old record was set in 1949-1950 at 93.5 inches. On Sunday, Spokane County hit 93.6 inches.

So far there haven't been any snowfall totals for Thursday morning. The National Weather Service is reporting at least an inch of fresh snow on the ground and calling for another 3 to 5 inches by day's end." KHQ-TV

Writing Advice

Lately, I've been receiving a lot of email asking for advice on becoming a writer. This has made me think a lot about the tools needed to actually sit down and write a book and, beyond writing the book, what it takes to make the story engaging to a reader.

Last night, I read an email from a thirteen-year-old who asked for tips on how to become an author. I was able to pull from several weeks of thoughts on the subject and pinpoint three key characteristics of a good writer. Those three are listed below along with the advice I provided for the thirteen-year-old. No rocket science here, just commonsense. Sometimes, though, we're so busy looking for the 'secret' to success we forget that there's no secret to it at all.

A writer must be a voracious reader.
One of the most important things you can do to prepare to be a writer is to read a lot. Fiction. Non-fiction. Whatever you can get your hands on! Learn how to write interesting sentences and how to create a compelling scene by studying the work of authors that you like. Then practice using words to paint vivid pictures for your readers. An author who can do this will always have a readership.

An author is a a student of humanity.
Aside from reading and practicing the art of writing, you should also spend time studying people. In order to be a good writer, you must understand how people think and act. You must know what they are doing but also why they are doing it. Studying people will help you create compelling characters that will grab a reader's attention.

An author has an indomitable spirit.
Being a writer means never giving up. Sometimes writers are rejected many times before they are published. Teach yourself to persists even in the face of what seems like failure. After all, God often teaches us the most important lessons when we are at the point where we are ready to give up. Remember that success will happen in God's time, but that His timing does not preclude our hard work. In other words, you must work hard to learn the craft of writing so that you will be ready for whatever writing opportunity God sends your way.

Two Down, Two to Go

And I'm not talking about books.

I'm afraid the ICK has hit my house. Darling Daughter One was sick last week, went on an antibotic and started feeling better. So, of course, twenty-four hours later, Darling Son Three told me his throat hurt. I spent a couple hours at the doctor and pharmacy yesterday and, besides his horrible cough, Number Three is feeling better. Fever is down, throat isn't hurting as much, nose isn't running.

But I'm sure his germs are. Probably running straight to Darling Son One or Two. Now, I don't want to play favorites, but if the ICK is going to hit, I hope it hits Son Two. Son One can't handle being sick.

In case you're wondering, I'm still writing. The thing about working from home is that there are very few good excuses for not going in to the office! That is both a blessing and a curse. I have noticed, though, that I am able to come up with plenty of excuses to avoid doing laundry. Kids are sick? Can't get the laundry done. Migraine? Can't get the laundry done? Smashed big toe into wall? Can't get the laundry done.

Sadly, I seem to be out of excuses today. Or maybe it's simply that the pile of laundry is multiplying three times for every one excuse I make. Sigh.

Here's hoping your laundry piles are a lot less tall than mine!

After the Call

A few people have asked if I'm as excited about a new sale as I was with my very first. The answer is - I am!

However, that excitement is tempered by knowledge. I understand the process now. I know what happens after the call. So, rather than screaming at the top of my lungs, jumping up and down and shivering with anxiety and anticipation, I scream at the top of my lungs, jump up and down and then get to work. I pick dates for turning in my proposals and my completed work. I email those to my editor and I mark my calender with circles and smiley faces and huge exclamation points. I assess my schedule, looking carefully at what will come in the next year and planning my writing schedule accordingly. I brainstorm titles, book cover ideas, and I think of how I will cut my twenty-five page synopsis down to one (for the art department). I assess how many words will need to be written each day to attain a goal of manuscript completion three weeks prior to my due date (after so many years and so many books, I know that is exactly how long it will take to revise and polish my manuscripts).

Then, I take two days off. I bask in the joy of being published. I celebrate, but only for a couple of days. Because I know that receiving that contract is only a small part of a very long, very wonderful road.

Happy Sunday!

Yay!

I've got to run and get finger printed (again). It should be exciting. Several hours of waiting in a crowded lobby to get my fingerprints taken. Fingerprints which are already in the data banks. And I can assure everyone who wants those prints...I haven't sewn on new fingers since the last two sets of prints were taken.

The good news is...Melissa Endlich offered me a three book contract!

I'm so excited to begin this newest series. The excitement over that will last way longer than the inconvenience of fingerprinting.

Have I said lately how much I LOVE my editor??

Immortalized in a Venerable Monument

I have four...well, actually five....kids.

Of the four that are at home, only one has inherited my love of the written word. The other three....well, let's just say they'd rather not write anything. And read? We're making headway in that area, but I still wouldn't say they adore books the way I do.

So it was with great dread that I collected today's writing assignments. Each kid was required to choose a place and write a paragraph describing it. The key to this assignment was to use interesting adjectives. Three of my kids didn't do so well. Unless you include big, little, loud, green, bright or beautiful in your list of interesting adjectives. My twelve-year-old, however, put a smile on my face. He chose to describe Mount Rushmore, and his description could have come out of any travel brochure. As a matter of fact, I tactfully (ha!) asked if he'd looked in his history book. He, being him, reminded me that he was studying world history not US history.

My favorite sentence of his was - The four presidents immortalized in this venerable monument....

My writer's heart swelled fifteen times its normal size when I read that. Immortalized. Venerable.

Those are interesting words, thoughtfully used. They reflect the kind of passion for written language that can't be taught or learned.

It's a God-given gift and I can't take any credit for it, but I can't help but be happy that one of my kids shares my passion for words

I HATE Waiting

Waiting.

It's part of a writer's life.

That doesn't mean I like doing it.

Currently, I am waiting on several things. Not all of them writing related.

I am waiting to hear whether or not my wonderful editor Melissa Endlich can convince my senior editor to buy my next book. Melissa said she loved it, but maybe the senior editor of the line will hate it. Seeing as how I've been suffering severe writer's doubts lately, that seems like a likely scenario. Though Melissa has assured me that I have no reason to doubt my writing, the perfectionist part of me just can't let go of the "I'm not good enough" feeling. Strange since I've written twelve books already. Sigh.

I am waiting on pre-approval from China. I won't even go into that. Suffice to say....waiting is NOT fun.

I am waiting for spring. Seeing as how it is 14 degrees outside, there is a blanket of snow on the ground, the weatherman is calling for single digit temps and there is snow in the forecast for the weekend, I think I may be waiting for a long, long time.

Maybe I should bake some bread. At least waiting for the dough to rise has its benefits. That pungent yeasty scent that wafts from under the cloth. The slow rise that is obvious and noticeable and makes the wait much less painful. And then the certainty of success. I've baked enough loaves of bread to know when it's going to work and when it's not, and I only bother waiting for the ones that will. The best thing is that its in my control. I start the dough knowing how long it will take. I begin with the knowledge that the end of the process will occur in a rather defined amount of time.

If only the wait on everything else in my life could be so easily predicted!

Will You Show Up?

We had a guest speaker at church a couple of weeks ago. He isn't a pastor, but does short mission trips. His message really touched me, and I often find myself thinking about his words. He was talking about the boy with the loaves and fish and the wonderful miracle Jesus performed. It's a story I've heard and read a thousand times. However, what the speaker said, really resonated with me. He asked.....

Will you show up?

Will you give what you have?

Will you believe that what you have is enough for God to accomplish His plan?

Sometimes I look at my abilities, my time, my talents and my finances and I wonder, "what can God do with these? They're nothing compared with what others have."

But God isn't asking me to give more than what I have. He isn't asking that I wait until I feel accomplished enough, talented enough, wealthy enough. He is asking me to be where He needs me now, with what I have now. He is asking me to have faith in His ability to accomplish great things through me despite my shortcomings, my lack of time, of talent, of wealth.

In these trying times, we can still believe that God can use us. That He will use us. If only we are willing to show up and to give what little we have.

Where Did Spring Go?

For a few blessed days it was above 45 degrees here in beautiful Washington. I basked in the sweet smell of spring that seemed to hover in the air. Rain fell, but it was a soft rain. The kind that brings thoughts of gardens and flowers and green leaves.

And then winter returned.

I wonder if the robins that have been hopping around in the yard are as shell shocked as I am.

At least the quail are happy. They've been running around the yard. One in particular always makes me smile. He seems happy to be with his buddies, but happier still to find food. Often, the covey of quail will be in the neighbor's yard. Then, as if all are wondering about the grass being greener on the other side, they'll run in mass toward the fence, quickly ducking under it. All except for my favorite little guy. He runs just a little slower, arrives at the fence just a little after everyone else. Then he tries to squeeze underneath. Oh, how he tries. Pushing his cute little head under, realizing that he can't proceed, backing up and trying again. Only to finally understand that he simply cannot squeeze beneath. Suddenly, he'll hop from the ground, spread his wings, soar for just a moment before he lands on the other side.

I've seen the quail do this a half a dozen times since we moved to Spokane. Sometimes I think the poor bird is a little dense. I mean, he's tried six times and hasn't made it under yet. Other times, I think he's foolish. What if a cat were coming? Would he still try to go under the fence or would he immediately spread his wings and fly. Most of the time, though, I admire his pluck. Failing once hasn't kept him from trying again. To him, getting under the fence has never ceased to be a possibility. Trying and failing only gives him more impetus to try again.

And who knows? Maybe one day he'll make it under that fence. I can almost see him now, strutting his stuff through our winter-barren garden, his feathers fluffed and his head high.

If only I could so clearly see my own failures as opportunities to persist. If only I could believe as strongly as that pint sized bird that anything is possible. Animals are not capable of faith, but they are capable of persistence. Why is it that we humans, who have faith opened up to us, are so quick to see failure as the end of the road rather than the beginning of another chance?

New York or Bust

It's been a while since I've gone on any writer conferences. Between the adoption and our move, I've had little time to think or plan a trip away from the hubby and kids. When my editor asked if I'd like to attend BEA this year, I jumped at the opportunity. BEA is a huge book expo. Lots of people. Lots of books. Lots of fun. Basically, I'll sign books for an hour and then wander around visiting other booths and collecting tons of freebies. Gotta love the freebies. This will be my third BEA. My second in New York. The expo is at the end of May, and I'm planning to fly into Baltimore and take the train up to New York. My Mom and oldest sister both want to come with me, so we can have some great family time as we ride up on the train. I'll get guest passes for both of them and they can visit all the booths while I sign.

Seeing as how kid #5 will arrive sometime this summer (we hope), BEA will probably be my last conference until next summer. I'd planned to attend RWA, but at this point have put plans for that on hold. Being an author is a great and wonderful gift, and I love it. But (big but)family comes first. Once Q comes home, she and the other kids and hubby will need me on the home front. I'm a little sad at having to say no to a trip I've been planning for a year. RWA in D.C. was going to be awesome! Harlequin is celebrating its 60th birthday, and I so wanted to be part of the party.

This is the hard thing about being a working mom. Finding balance between pursuing a career and being around for the family.

Of course, in this situation, it's a no brainer.

I rest in the assurance that God chose the path I'm on. He placed my feet on it, He patted me on the back and whispered encouragingly, "Go!" and He's walking beside me all the way. There may not always be balance in my life, but there is always faith. And where there is faith, there is hope and there is peace.

Waiting, Waiting, Waiting...

Well, it seems like I'm waiting for everything lately. Waiting for preapproval from China is torture. Add to that a wait to hear back on my newest proposal and things get even worse.

I can't complain about the wait on the proposal, though. After months of suffering writer doubts and putting off mailing in the completed proposal, I finally managed to get up my courage and mail it. LAST WEEK. Sigh.

This morning, I heard from my wonderful editor Melissa Endlich. I'm happy to say she already read the proposal. I'm even happier to say she loved it. She asked for a brief description of the second and third story in the series I was proposing. Fortunately my procrastinating to mail in the proposal gave me plenty of time to think about story ideas. I was able to do a one page write-up for each book and email it to her within a couple of hours of her query.

So now I'm waiting again.

I suppose Melissa will send the proposal up to Tina who will make the final decision about buying (or not)the three book series.

I love writing. I love being an author.

I do not love waiting.

Okay....so it's been a (long) while

I admit it. I got caught up in six million things since our move. I thought I'd easily slip back into my schedule, but moving across the country takes a little more than a week to recover from. Here I am, six months in, and still trying to figure life in Washington out.

And I mean that in the best possible way.

Do I love it here?

Yep.

Would I do it again?

Of course.

But a move is a life change and life changes need time to be recovered from. I love our new house, our new neighbors, the rural feel and the closeness of town. I love the view of the mountains that I see every time I glance out the kitchen window. I love our land and our little red barn (which will soon be home to several chickens). I love our new church and our new friends, but I miss our old church and our old friends. I miss my family. My nieces and my plethora of nephews. I miss going out to the store and seeing a dozen people that I know.

What I've realized about this move is that life is often about taking chances. We can choose to sit and let life happen to us or we can choose to take action and happen to life. Rodney, the kids and I....well, we happened to life when we arrived in Spokane. Our loud, exuberant family took the quiet street we live on by storm. We barged into churches and dance studios and art centers. We banged out piano songs and sang loudly. We laughed. We happened.

That's not to say it was easy. God has planned this for us for a long time. I've no doubt about that. Selling our Maryland house to the first people to walk through the door, finding our new home that met our needs so beautifully (and was built by a man who was building for no one but himself...proving that in 1978 God was planning for us to live here)...everything fell into place. But change is scary, isn't it? The unknown, the unseen, the invisible roads that will lead from this place and to others....it is hard to walk toward those things no matter how much faith we have that God is in them.

Which brings me to some news that I share with the greatest fear and the fullest of hope. Soon my family will 'happen' to China. In three months or four or five or six we will travel to meet the newest member of the McCoy family. At this point we are still waiting for a pre approval letter from China, but we have submitted a letter of intent to adopt. In other words, we have accepted a referral for a little girl. She will be seven in March. She needs us as much as we need her. Like our other children, she is talkative and outgoing, loves music and activity. My mother, on viewing the photo, said, "She looks like another live wire. Well, what's one more?"

So true, Mom, so true.

Once we receive pre-approval I will be able to post more information, but for now, I leave you with this thought: Doing nothing is safe. Doing nothing is easy. Make it your goal to not do nothing.

Not do nothing.

I've heard that six million times on the Christian radio station lately. Such an easy concept, but so difficult.

Whatever your dreams, whatever God's desire for you....go forward boldly and do NOT do nothing.

Shirlee

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

Good from Bad

At a time of the year when we all want to be carried away with joy and peace, many people are struggling. Life isn't always easy. My sister Sara can attest to that. Her husband has been sick for eighteen months. Not just a little sick. The kind of sick that changes a person. And everyone who loves him.

Here is an article written by Sara for Today's Christian Woman. Perhaps you'll find her journey encouraging.

http://www.christianitytoday.com/tcw/2008/sepoct/9.88.html

It's supposed to be raining, but....

Instead, it's snowing.

Hope you all had a great Thanksgiving!

Continuity 2010

On the heels of posting the cover for COLD CASE MURDER, I've been asked to write book four in the 2010 continuity. All the stories will deal with witness protection. So far, I know that my heroine is pregnant and in witness protection. I also know that her ex-husband is trying to find her and that just as he finds her so does the villian.

Sound intriguing?

It did to me. Plus, I really love writing stories about couples who reunite.

I can't wait to get started!

Another Cover

This is for the 2009 LI Suspense continuity. It makes me wonder. I guess that is always a good thing when it comes to covers. If I wonder about the cover, I'll pick up the book and read the blurb.

There is Snow on the Mountains

And it is COLD.

Okay, so it's not quite as cold as I'm told it's going to get. Currently, it's no colder than it was in Maryland in December. I'm not much for cold weather. However, I've decided I will learn to love it. I'm here in cold country, so I may as well get used to the idea.

Also, the snowy mountains are beautiful. Makes me want to write a historical just so that I can write about traveling through those mountains during the winter. Although, I don't suppose many settlers would have chanced it. I can't even imagine driving through some of those passes on a road in a car.

Christmas will be different this year. No family around. Not a huge network of friends. We'll be creating new traditions and new memories, but that doesn't mean we won't miss old traditions. And while I'm thinking of new traditions and family, I can't help wondering what DD #2 is doing. I know, it's been a while since I've mentioned the adoption, but that doesn't mean it's not still happening. Our daughter will have another year in China without us. We'll have another year here without her. I don't stress much about time passing. All of it is in God's hands.

Now...I'd better go write. I hope you all are writing too!

Probation and Weed

Oddly enough, I found a cell phone while walking through the woods near my son's art class. I planned to charge the phone, look for a home number and call the owner of the phone. Of course, being me, I immediately thought, "I wonder if this beat up phone belongs to a drug dealer." Then dismissed the thought as pure imagination.

My son, being much more technically savvy than I am, managed to figure out that the phone was still charged. He turned it on, and I scrolled through the contact list, hoping to find a home number. Guess what I found? An entry titled "Probation" and one titled "Weed".

As I was contemplating my next move, the phone rang and some loud music spewed from it. Immediately, I had visions of tracking devices and gang members, drug feuds and me and my kids caught in the middle.

I decided then and there that the owner of the phone could do without a call from me. I thought about mailing the phone to the police, but decided I'd feel too much like an idiot. I mean, maybe "weed" was someones last name. And maybe probation was....well, something other than what I thought.

Regardless, the phone was turned off and deposited in a lost and found.

Somehow I doubt it will ever be retrieved.

Dancing is Like a Party to Music

So said my seven-year-old daughter to a new girl in her jazz class. Knowing my daughter and her love of words, music and dance, this didn't surprise me. However, the mother of the girl E was talking to was struck by it enough that she told her sister-in-law who came to me and asked if I'd heard my daughter's words.

I relayed the conversation and E's words to my youngest sister who said, "Wow. That's passion."

And that got me thinking.

What is it that makes a dancer work so hard for so long for so little encouragement? What drives an artist or musician to face criticism and critique, rejection and failure? How does a gymnast or a football player face physical pain, fear and heartache over and over again without quitting? What is it that compells a writer to write when her words may never be read, her story never told?

Is it only passion? To me passion is something that waxes and wanes. It may be there one day and not the next. What lives inside the person who is successful despite astounding odds is something different. Drive, determination and, most importantly, resiliancy. The person who continues to pursue his or her passion is the one who can take a punch, shrug it off and keep going. She is the person who works not just for the accolades and trophies, but for the sheer joy of self expression. She is the person who listens and learns, who is not afraid to fail because she understands that only in failing can she succeed.

That is passion. That is heart. That is courage. That is success.

Migraine...uhg

Migraines stink.

I just wanted to get that out. After suffering through one for the past twelve hours, I'm completely disgusted by the fact that my head refuses to listen to my mind which is telling it to stop hurting!

To make myself happier, I've been contemplating things I love. I'm posting one of those things here.

Usually, I don't post photos of kids, but I figure they're all in a group, I've posted no names and no one knows where any of them live....so....here's to my nieces and nephews (of which I have many). These are the nephews and nieces from my side of the family. Two are missing. My sister's kids (the ones playing games after hurricane Ike). My husband's side of the family is smaller, and I won't post pictures of them.

Where are All the Christian Fiction Writers?

This is the question that has been foremost in my mind for the past few weeks. I decided that when I moved to Spokane I would connect to people by finding writing groups. I've found the local chapter of the RWA (yay!), but still haven't found a Christian fiction writers group.

What's that about?

Surely I'm not the only Christian fiction writer in Spokane.

The one group I did find meets during the day. Not a good time for a homeschool mom.

On-line groups are great, but there's something much more intimate and fun about meeting people face to face. The exchange of ideas, of creative energy helps me renew as a writer.

On a completely different note...my dog is in love with the cow next door. Or maybe the cow is in love with my dog. Today, I was out walking in the yard and the cow was watching intently as Rushmore raced after me. Seconds later, the cow let out a very deep bellow. To me, it sounded like unrequited love. Then again, I'm not so great at cow-speak. If I wrote LI, I'd think that would be a perfect way for heroine and hero to meet - over a lovesick cow and puppy.

What does the picture of a heart-shaped rock have to do with any of this? My son found the rock in our field. Without showing it to me, he went inside and wrote "I love you" on it. Then he brought it out and handed it to me. Which has nothing to do with anything except how very sweet my ten-year-old is!

Help!

I'm drowning in fruit. We've got an apple tree and a pear tree in our back yard that have been producing loads of fruit since we arrived. We've also got grapes which will be ripe any day now. Then there's our gruff neighbor Fred. He brought over several pounds of plums the other day. And by several I mean a LOT.

Considering how expensive groceries are and how many kids I've got to feed, I can't complain about the plethora of fruit. The problem is, I don't know what to do with it. Can it? Bake it into bread or cake? Freeze it? What does one do with ripe fruit other than snack on it?

I've looked up recipes and have so far made pear/plum jam, several loaves of pear bread, an apple pie, a pear pie, zucchini bread (zucchini compliments of our neighbor Leonora). At this point, I'm sick of peeling fruit and I'm tired of baking. Which is saying a lot seeing as how I love to bake.

So, if anybody knows a way to freeze fruit without it getting gross and brown and mushy, I'd love to hear it.

After the Storm

My sister already has electricty. She's fortunate. I know a lot of people in Houston are still without power. She sent me some pictures of the damage to the neighborhood and the cute picture above of her two sons playing in the dark (dad is holding a flashlight on the game). It makes me thankful to have lights and working bathrooms and so many other things that I take for granted.

We're really blessed in this country.

Hurricane yIKEs

Above is a picture of my sister's boarded up window as well as the sky above her Houston home yesterday evening before the hurricane hit. Last night, she, her husband and two kids rode out the storm. Since the eye of the hurricane never went over their town, they had hours of high wind with no reprieve. Sara said the house was literally shaking beneath the force of it. We're so thankful the house is still standing, but more thankful that Sara and her family are okay.

Let's all remember to pray for those that weren't so fortunate. There's a lot of devastation in Houston and the surrounding area and many people will need support in the weeks to come.

New Inspiration

When I wrote my first published book, I had been inspired by Smith Mountain Lake. My mother-in-law had just had a house built, and the beauty and serenity of the place touched something deep in my soul. Every time I visit Kitty, I am reminded of Romans 1:20 - For since the creation of the world God's invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse.

There is so much beauty in this world it is seemingly impossible to believe that it happened by chance. Creation cries out, demanding our attention, commanding us to acknowledge the truth.

Here in Spokane, I look at distant mountains and deep blue sky, I hear the whisper of wind through fields of long grass and I want to drink it all in, write it all down. I am not an artist who paints or draws. I am a word artist. My books are my canvas. My words my medium.

And this new place I've come to is ripe with inspiration.

What inspires you?

New Covers

Well, after several years of covers with no people, I've got two covers with people on them. I guess the hunky Sinclair brothers really did deserve to be put on the covers of their books. The above hunky hero is Grayson Sinclair. I've never been much for covers that have people on them. I think, though, that if I saw this in the store I'd pick it up. Good looking guy. Nice colors. What more can an author or reader ask? Besides a good story that is!

Long Trip

Well, we arrived in Spokane Valley last Friday after a long but wonderful trip across country. As we'd planned, we stopped at Mount Rushmore and Yellowstone National park. We also took a side trip to a place called 1880s Town. The kids had a blast seeing so much of our wonderful country. So did Rodney and I...until the last day. Those final three hundred miles seemed to take an eternity!

Home is a nice split foyer in a beautiful setting. There are mountain views from the back deck, a cow in the pasture next door, friendly neighbors. We got a dog that we named Rushmore. He and the kids love to roam the pasture behind our house. Rushmore is a goldendoodle and is the only dog my eldest son has absolutely no allergies to. As if he senses that Jude has had to stay far away from dogs, Rushmore has taken quite a shine to my thirteen-year-old. If all four kids are out playing, Jude is the one Rushmore wants to hang out with.

It took almost a week to get Comcast in to hook up our internet. Happily, that happened yesterday. So....I'm back! Yay!

After we arrived in Spokane, I realized just how tired I've been. Between the adoption, writing deadlines, homeschooling the kids, the car accident and the move, I was drained. Our trip across country has renewed me. For a week, I did no writing at all. I'm happy to say that I missed it. There's something cathartic about writing. It frees the mind and eases the burdens of the soul. I think that is God's gift to those of us who write...that in using what He's given us, we gain a sense of peace.

Where in the World is Shirlee McCoy?

It's been a while. So long, in fact, that I forgot my password for this blog and had to create a new one. Yikes!

I do have an excuse. Actually, I have several. The biggest is that I'm moving. I'm not talking a little move. I'm talking a 2400 mile across country move. It's happening in two days, and I still can't believe it's real. One minute, my husband was saying, "my company has a position in Spokane, Washington...." and the next we were selling our house and getting ready to move.

Speaking of selling houses, with the housing market what it is in our area, we were sure it would take three months or more to sell. Instead, the first person that walked into our house bought it. I'd like to think that is because of my impeccable decorating sense, but seeing as how I don't decorate at all, I have to admit God was moving in a big way.

That was miracle number one in the McCoy moving odyssey. The second miracle was that our China dossier for the adoption was logged into China right around the time the words Spokane and Washington started being tossed around in our house. So, while we will have several adoption things to do once we arrive in our new home, we are officially paper pregnant! Yes, friends, I'm two months along!

The third miracle....my writing projects are caught up and done. The timing worked out perfectly so that I could make the long drive (yes, we're driving) without having the pressure of books or proposals on my mind. I turned in the last book in the Sinclair series, completed line edits on my continuity and am currently working on a proposal for a new project. No stress. No fuss. I can leave Maryland and start fresh in Spokane. Yay!

God's timing is always perfect. My husband and I have wanted to move from our very hectic and crowded home to a place a little less hectic and a little less crowded for the entire fourteen years of our marriage. We've looked in different areas, made attempts to buy land or purchase houses. In the end, doors were closed, and we refused to force them back open. With this move, the door flew open before we even knocked and it has remained open, beckoning us to whatever God has planned for us.

This past Sunday was our last time with our wonderful church family. Our pastor pulled me aside and said, "Shirlee, I want to tell you that I think this move is going to be the best thing for your family. I've seen you and Rodney trying to move many times over the years, but it was never right. This time, God has opened the doors. Your house sale, finding a new home so quickly, God is working everything out for you this time. And I really believe this is God's will for your lives."

My point? Waiting on God is never easy. We want to hear 'yes', not 'no' or 'not now'. But in waiting, we allow God to work in His way and in His time. When we do that, we find that His plans for us are much bigger and better than the plans we had for ourselves.

First Impressions

How important is that first impression?

I was thinking about that question recently, remembering when I interviewed for my first teaching job. I'd been studying at the University of Maryland, had graduated with honors and received the outstanding student teacher award for my class. I'd passed the National Teacher's Exam with flying colors and had done the same on the graduate studies exam. I had the credentials and the know-how, but what got me the job was my outgoing nature. Or so I was told after the fact. What's funny is that I tend to be an introvert, but on that particular day, I'd decided that if I wanted to get the job, I had better walk in with a smile and a look of confidence. The principal had plenty of teachers in and out of his school. Many of them were young and inexperienced and left as soon as they could. I guess that's what prompted him to ask me why I thought I could handle the kind of kids that attended his school. My answer? "Well, how much trouble are they?"

He was honest. The kids came from rough situations, there were fights in the classrooms and in the halls. The principal needed a teacher who wasn't going to be cowed by such things. I wasn't so sure that was me, but I also wasn't sure it wasn't. I'd been praying about getting a teaching job. Who was I to say this wasn't God's answer? I told the principal that I'd been working with kids since I was in middle school and that I thought I could handle anything my students dished out.

I got the job based on my answer and on the Principal's perception of me - that I was young, energetic, outgoing and eager to face whatever challenge came my way.

When I wrote my first book and was ready to submit it, I understood that first impressions could open doors for me or cause them to be slammed shut. Editors receive many queries each week. Mine had to stand out. Not in a gaudy flashy way. In a way that captured positive attention and made the editor want to see more of my work. To prepare for that all important first impression, I studied books on queries, studied samples of good query letters, read examples of good synopses and generally learned everything I could about what editors wanted and didn't want in queries.

It paid off. I received positive responses to each of my queries and that first book was read by all the editors I'd queried. They didn't buy it (I cringe when I think of how horrible it was!), but, without exception, the editors wanted to see more of my writing. If you've just completed your first novel, remember that first impressions are very important. Research your market, know who is publishing what you write, know how many books they publish per year, prepare a query that is professional and a proposal that will leave the editor wanting more. You can always improve as a writer, but you can't change that first impression. Make it a good one!

Maryland, My Maryland?

I've lived in Maryland all of my life (minus the years I spent in Thailand). In all my years attending Maryland public schools, I was never informed of one very interesting tidbit about my home state. Its state song. I learned the national anthem, the pledge of allegiance, the state bird, flower and nickname. I learned about the historical significance of Annapolis and Baltimore and too many other towns to name. But not once in all those years did I ever hear the state song mentioned let alone sung.

As I helped my fourth grader do research for his state project, I was surprised to learn that most states do have state songs. We, of course, looked up Maryland's. It was written in 1861 by a Marylander who was living in Louisiana. If you want to be slightly amused and a little appalled, read the alarmingly long song (which is sun to the tune of Oh Christmas Tree and which I have cut down to a third of its length). Please notice the sections which I gleefully boldface typed.

Of course, you also must keep in mind the historical significance of the time, the cessation of the south, the battle waging between opposing factions. As a poem, the piece is a fantastic testimonial to how torn citizens must have been. As a song....well, see for yourself.

Maryland My Maryland
Written by James Ryder Randall

The despot's heel is on thy shore,
Maryland, My Maryland!
His torch is at thy temple door,
Maryland, My Maryland!
Avenge the patriotic gore
That flecked the streets of Baltimore,
And be the battle queen of yore,
Maryland! My Maryland!


Hark to an exiled son's appeal,
Maryland, My Maryland!
My Mother State! to thee I kneel,
Maryland, My Maryland!
For life and death, for woe and weal,
Thy peerless chivalry reveal,
And gird they beauteous limbs with steel,
Maryland! My Maryland!


Thou wilt not yield the vandal toll,
Maryland, My Maryland!
Thou wilt not crook to his control,
Maryland, My Maryland!
Better the fire upon thee roll,
Better the blade, the shot, the bowl,
Than crucifixion of the soul,
Maryland! My Maryland!

I hear the distant thunder-hum,
Maryland, My Maryland!
The Old Line's bugle, fife, and drum,
Maryland, My Maryland!
She is not dead, nor deaf, nor dumb-
Huzza! she spurns the Northern scum!Maryland My Maryland
She breathes, she burns, she'll come, she'll come. Maryland, my maryland.

Writing Advice

I got an email from a reader who wanted to know what advice I'd give to aspiring writers. I emailed her a response and decided maybe there were others who were wondering what it takes to be successful. Here are my suggestions:

Be committed -Finish what you start. I've mentored a lot of people who write a chapter or two of a manuscript, decide the story isn't working and move on to something else. A book never works out the first time we write it. Write it anyway. Then fix it.

Be persistent. One rejection (or two or three or four or five....)doesn't make you a failure, and it certainly doesn't mean that God doesn't want you to write. All it means is that you're not where you want to be at the moment. Which doesn't mean you're not going to eventually get there!

Be a good student. Your writing will be judged and critiqued, its value weighed by every editor and agent who looks at it. Think of them as your professors and your writing as a final thesis. You pass or fail based on their opinion of your work. Make it great.

Be ready for success. Set goals and meet them, so that when the time comes and you get THE CALL, you'll be ready to meet deadlines and produce manuscripts over and over again.

Be faithful. God does not call us to give up when the going gets tough. Be faithful to the call He's given you whether that call is to write books or edit your church newsletter.

Be grateful. For your gift. For your calling. For the creativity that God has given you. And because you are grateful for the gift, use it. Don't sit around talking about writing. Write. Trusting always that God is in control of your words, your story and your career. Write like it matters. Like you will succeed. Like what God has already done is enough. Because it is. And then write some more because, rejection or not, you must.

Writing, Writing and More Writing

My favorite thing about being a writer (aside from the actual writing) is the fact that I've been able to build a career that allows me to be home with my kids. Of course, the most difficult part of being a writer (aside from the actual writing :0))is that I work from home. There is nothing quite as frustrating as getting into a scene and suddenly being interrupted. There are times when I long for an office separate from my house. And, if you're wondering, that won't be happening any time soon. Currently, my office is in the kitchen. I've got a desk, a laptop and kids doing homeschool work set up very cozily along side the refrigerator, oven, dishwasher, sink and dining room table!

If you're building your writing career, just beginning your writing journey or wondering if writing is the career for you, you'll need to establish work parameters. When will you write? How much time each day will you spend writing? At what point will writing take precedence over family? Will it ever? Should it ever? You'll also need to keep in mind that being an author isn't limited to creating stories and writing them. The job includes working with editors to fine-tune your product and create winning manuscripts. Editing through the production process must be done in a timely manner and that time is not determined by the author. Writing a book is never done alone. Once the story is complete, a team of experts begins working through the manuscript, and the author must buckle up and be ready for the ride. Whether s/he's got a vacation planned or a birthday party to host, if a book is in production, staying on target and getting those edits in on time is paramount.

This, of course, is every writing mom's (or dad's) challenge. How do you fit your God-given talent for writing into a life that is already overflowing? The answer boils down to this - if you're truly pursuing God's will for your life, then you'll have the time you need. It won't always be easy. Sometimes it will be downright difficult. It will always, however, be worth it.

Happy writing!

INS

Finally!

After four months waiting, we received INS approval of our I600A - Advanced Processing of an Orphan.

If you've read my posts about our adoption, you'll know that this had to be obtained before our dossier could be sent to China. I'm not sure why, but our adoption coordinator didn't ask us to apply for the I600A until our homestudy was almost complete. The end result of this was that we've had a complete homestudy for four months and have not been able to move forward with the adoption because we didn't have our I600A.

What a mess.

On the upside, God is in control. His timing determines everything that happens, and I really can't sweat the wait. Yes, it was aggravating (we were told it would take four weeks), but I've always felt that the hold-ups we've experienced (and there have been many) were all part of God's plan to place a child that He's predetermined as ours into our family.

The last thing we have to do is get all our documentation authenticated. This will mean trips to the court houses of two different counties. Lord willing, this will not be nearly as challenging and scary as I'm making it out to be in my mind. The problem is, I've got the worst sense of direction. I get lost going EVERYWHERE. A twenty minute trip to the courthouse in Annapolis could take me three or four or five hours. And the courthouse over the bay bridge? Please. That's a disaster waiting to happen. My kids and I could be stranded on the Eastern shore for months.

The good news is that things on the writing front are going well. PROTECTOR'S PROMISE will be mailed out Monday, and then I'll get back to work on COLD CASE MURDER. I've also got a proposal for book 3 in the Sinclair Brother's trilogy to work up, but I've got that story in my mind, so it shouldn't be too difficult.

Emotional Duress?

I feel bad saying this, but I've always thought that people who sue for emotional duress are full of baloney. How can emotional duress be quantified? And how can it be proven?

I still feel that way, but I have to say that after my accident the other night, I do suddenly understand the term. I've had trouble sleeping since Wednesday, and I find myself awake in the wee hours of the morning trying to figure out how the accident played out (it's eight, and I've been up since three). I sit down to write and the stupid accident plays over in my head again and again. Like a bad movie that can't be turned off. I think because I only saw the police car a second before it hit me, I can't wrap my mind around what happened. Where was the police car while I was pulling up to the intersection? Not in a normal lane of traffic, because those were occupied by cars stopped at the red light. Did he stop at the red light? Did he slow a little or a lot? Did he try to swerve, or did he not have time? What influenced his decision to run the red? Was he in pursuit of someone? Rushing to a crime in progress? Or was he simply going to the scene of a fender bender?

It will be easier to put it all behind me once the on-duty officers from that night are back and I can speak to one of them. I'm praying they are forthcoming with the information. While I refuse to accept blame for what happened, I'm not angry or bitter or wanting to get the guy who hit me in trouble. I just want answers. Of course, if one of my kids had been seriously hurt or killed, I would want more than answers.

A dear friend of mine said, "Shirlee, it was an accident. Accidents happen."

I know this is true, but I will maintain forever that an emergency vehicle has a responsibility to make sure the intersection is clear before going through it, that stopping for ten seconds wastes a lot less time than is saved by going through. At the kind of intersection I was going through, there a many variables. A reasonable motorist would understand that views of oncoming cars are limited, that running a red light even if the intersection appeared clear could be dangerous. If a reasonable motorist understood this. That reasonable motorist would then slow enough to be able to stop quickly if necessary. The assumption that every motorist will hear and see emergency lights is a poor answer to this. My view of the intersection was completely blocked, and modern cars are so well insulated from noise, that is often impossible to hear sirens until the emergency vehicle is very close.

Yeah, it was an accident. Yeah, I understand how it happened.

Do I think it could have been a prevented? Yes.

Do I think I could have prevented it? No.

So, that is where I stand on responsibility for what happened. And that is the last I'm going to say about my horrible Wednesday night!

On the upside, my husband, kids and I are going car shopping today. Since poor Old Faithful is dead, I need a new ride. Or, at least, one that doesn't have the bumper completely torn from it!

Stay safe!

And if you think about it, pray for the officer who hit me. I'm sure this is as trying a time for him as it is for me.

And On It Goes

Just as an aside, because I can't stop thinking about the stupid accident. I realized after I thought back over what happened, that I was probably at a standstill when I was hit. There were two police cars entering the intersection. I saw the one that was further away (and therefore not in the blindspot created by the car next to me). I slammed on my brakes to avoid him and then saw the police car that hit me. I'm 100% sure this is what happened because the damage to my car is really odd. The front bumper is peeled away from the car, as if the police car were moving by me and just caught my bumper as he flew past.

An interesting aside - none of the police officers who were on the scene last night are working for the next THREE days. Three days? How can that be?

My husband was trying to get information about the case and none of the officers were around.

By the Grace of God

This morning, I'm watching the sun rise above the hill across from my house. The sky is lilac and pale blue, the ground dusted with snow. It's quite beautiful. I can see my husband's truck sitting in the driveway, see the fire hydrant that is across the street from our house. What I can't see is my mini van. My poor, faithful old car. The car I have had for eleven years. The one I was driving home from church last night when I was hit by a police car.

Yes, you read that correctly. Last night, I was hit by a police car.

How it happened is still a mystery to me. I'm the most careful and cautious driver in the world. In the years I've been driving, I've never been pulled over for speeding. I never race through yellow lights or speed to make it through a green. I'm conscientious about pulling over and out of the way when I see emergency vehicles, and have lectured my kids on the importance of doing so over and over again. I'm the annoying driver you get behind when you're in a hurry. The one that is driving the speed limit and slowing when she sees yellow lights.

Yet, somehow I was hit by a police car.

If you're interested in the story, here is how it goes - I was sitting at a red light at a huge intersection less than five miles from my house. Picture two three-lane roads bisected by two lanes of traffic. I was on the two lane road heading west. There was a truck or SUV next to me in the right lane. As per usual, when the light turned, I looked to my left which is the direction cross-traffic would be coming from as I crossed. Everyone had stopped, so I proceeded across the first three lane road, under the light and toward the next three lane road I had to go across. The cross-traffic on this road would be coming from the right, but (of course) was stopped because of the red light. The car to my right was slightly ahead of me (probably due to the fact that I'm a slow driver) and actually sort of above me because we were going up a hill. I pulled up beside him (I only realize now that he was slowing down because he saw a police car speeding toward the intersection), passed him at about ten miles an hour, started into the intersection and saw a police car with flashing lights coming toward me.

The rest, as they say, is history.

By the grace of God my four kids were unscathed. Not a nick, cut or bruise among them. We'll talk about psychological ramifications later.

Anyhow, I swerved and put on my brakes as soon as I saw the police lights. That was when I FINALLY (too little too late) heard sirens. The police car hit the front passenger bumper of my car and carried it (yes, I mean that literally) as it skidded and (according to my son) spun one or two times. I never saw that. My car came rather gently to a stop in the south bound lane of the road I'd been crossing. I asked my kids if they were okay, and then I pulled over to the side and spent about ten minutes looking for my hazard lights.

It seemed like forever that I sat there wondering what to do and thinking, "Oh my goodness! I just got hit by a police car. My kids could have been killed!"

Suddenly, a police officer was at my window. He asked if we were alright and I said, "Yes. It was a green light, wasn't it? I did have a green light?"

I think I must have been in shock. So he says, "Yes, but I'm more concerned about whether or not everyone is okay. ARE YOU OKAY?"

Which in retrospect seems kind of weird. I've been in another accident years ago, and I remember being asked what happened once it was determined that we were fine. Not this time. The next thing I new, police cars were everywhere. Someone was taking pictures of my car, and I was just sitting there wondering what I was supposed to do. I called my husband, but he was in school and didn't get my message. The same officer who'd first approached me handed me a paper that said (in part), "You have the right to remain silent. You have a right not to incriminate yourself."

So, I start thinking, "Am I in trouble? Did I do something wrong? I was coming across at a green light. I never saw or heard the police car. How can this be my fault?"

I called my husband again. Frantic this time because I didn't know if I should fill out and sign the form I'd been given. Then, when I still couldn't reach him, I called my parents, hoping they could give me some insight into what to do (they live about three miles from where the accident happened.). Our phone call was cut short when the officer approached again. He wanted the form, but I told him I wasn't sure what it was for. He said it was a form they always give out after an accident. Which isn't true. Maybe they give them out after an accident involving a police car. It felt to me like he was being snippy about it, but maybe that was my perception because (as I stated before) I was in SHOCK.

Long story short, the police officer in the car that hit me is fine. I'm fine. My kids are fine. My car is totaled. I'm anxious and upset and feel guilty even though I didn't do anything wrong. As I think always happens after something like this, I keep thinking about all the ways I could have prevented it from happening. After tossing and turning for hours, I realized there was absolutely nothing I could have done to keep the accident from happening. I guess, this is as close to a real accident as anything can be.

I've been told the police officer slowed as he approached the intersection. I don't know what he did. I'm sure he didn't mean to plow into my van, but I keep thinking - "how could he not have gone more carefully through that intersection? How could he not have stopped completely before going through such a big intersection?" By the time I saw him, he was going at a pretty good clip, so if he slowed....

Well, I just don't know.

What I do know is that my poor old car is dead, but we are fine. Purely by the grace of God.

And despite everything else, I have that to be truly grateful for.

Link

To Sabrina's blog. I'm not sure why I can never get this to work.

http://sabrinalfox.blogspot.com/

Uniquely You

I was catching up on some blog reading (read that as avoiding writing, laundry, dishes), and visited my friend Sabrina's blog. Mixed in among book reviews was a post from December where she described her son's experience at basketball practice. Let me try to post a link to her blog -



Her description of her son made me smile. I have a quirky kid, too. Of my four, he's the one most likely to come up with interesting ideas, understand deep things of God, explore the world with wonder and enthusiasm. Less mature than my other kids, he lacks some of the gifts that come so easily to them. While my other three thrive at musical endeavors, my second son struggles to feel beat and rhythm. While my other kids are gregarious and active, my second born is quieter, more introspective and given to deep thinking. While the other three run, jump and leap, my dear second child trips, falls and limps.

Is he to be pitied because he marches to his own beat, lives in his own world, enjoys things in a different way than 90% of kids his age?

Do we look back and pity Einstein or Edison? Do we feel sorry for Ansel Adams?

Of course we don't.

Those men (and so many men and women just like them) struggled in school, struggled at home, struggled with life, but their experiments, their drive, their unique way of looking at the world led to advancement in thinking, design and concept.

I remember when #2 was four. I brought him to get his eyes checked and learned that his vision was 20/425. According to the eye doctor, #2 had never seen the world clearly. A few months later, I brought all the kids back so that my oldest and youngest sons could get their eyes checked. When we came out of the doctor's office, my youngest son said:

"Do I need glasses?"

I said, "No, your eyes are 20/20."

He said, "What does that mean?"

I said, "It means your eyes are just the way God intended them to be."

To which my quirky second son replied, "So are mine, Mom. Just because I need glasses doesn't mean my eyes aren't the way God intended them to be. I'm exactly how He wants me to be."

He was FOUR.

I'm pretty sure my quirky guy saw (and still sees) the world much more clearly than the rest of us.

My point?

Whatever your strengths and weakness, whatever your dreams and aspirations, they are uniquely yours. God-given, they are the foundation of who you are, where you'll go, and what you will become. The Bible says we are knit together in our mother's wombs. In my mind, I see the Master creator, crafting the very fiber of who we are. Not by accident, not without reason, but because He wants us uniquely suited for His purpose.

As a quirky day dreamer who has become a teacher and author, I can honestly say that the things that set me apart from others are the things that make me able to do what I do. Determination, stubbornness, an unfortunate laid-back attitude toward housework, a huge imagination, the ability to create stories in my head and then transfer those images and thoughts into words, those are what help me walk the tightrope that is my life. Balanced precariously between my role as wife and mother and my role as author, I use the unique qualities God gave me to live the life He always intended I would have.

Don't be afraid to be uniquely you. Whatever your strengths and weakness, they are exactly what God intended!

Good Intentions

It seems I always start the week with big plans regarding things like how much cleaning will get done, how much writing I'll do, how much more organized I'll be. Inevitably, I wake up on Thursday morning and think - where in the world is the week going and why haven't I accomplished more during it?!

What I'm beginning to realize is that I am only one person (yes, I know it seems obvious, but I so want to be everything to everyone). I have limited time. I can't be two (or three or four) places at once. Therefore, no matter how much I want to do everything for everyone, I simply can't.

Of course, realizing this doesn't make me any less anxious to accomplish what I feel I should.

Interestingly enough, when I was in college I wrote a paper focused on the idea that the more modern advances women have, the more time (rather than less time) they spend devoted to cleaning, cooking, etc. I think that idea is more true than any of us realize. All I have to do is watch television and I'm bombarded with commercials for equipment that I can use to (pick your poison) have whiter whites, brighter brights, shinier floors, more sanitary toilets, smaller onion slices, air tight frozen foods, even MORE airtight frozen foods, tighter abs, stronger thighs, clearer skin, more luxurious hair. The ideal woman, then, must have a spotless house, a perfect figure and timeless beauty.

Of course, by the time that perfect woman is done using every new product on the market to make her house sparkle and her laundry immaculate, and by the time she's done running and lunging and lifting and stretching, exfoliated and scrubbing, washing and rubbing, that poor perfect woman is a tired old hag who can barely lift her head to give her kids a kiss goodnight!

So, dear friends, I have not reached Thursday with my to-do list done. However, I am happy to report that I have plenty of energy to dole out hugs and kisses!

Writing Challenges

One of the things aspiring authors don't often think about are the challenges that arise after the first contract is attained. While it may seem that getting published is the ultimate goal when it comes to being an author, I'd argue that the true test of a person's dedication to his or her craft lies in the ability to continue after the first book is sold. Case in point - during the months preceding my first sale, I congratulated three other new authors on the sales of their first manuscripts. As far as I've been able to tell, none of them ever sold another book.

Why?

Simply put, achieving publication is a wonderful, exciting and fantastic time in a writer's life. When we get THE call, we dance and scream and rejoice (as we should). Finally, after (sometimes) years of effort and countless rejection, we've been validated. We really are AUTHORS. However, writing isn't just an art. It's a job. It's not just a craft. It's a career. Being successful at it means pushing ourselves to continue past that first sale to the second and third and fourth. It means facing rejection again. It means working with people who have different ideas about our stories and writing styles. It means opening ourselves up to criticism and disappointment.

Perhaps even more than that, it means sacrifice- Sleep, free time, relaxation. We may have full-time careers apart from writing. We may be busy moms and wives; husbands and fathers. We may be homeschooling our kids or hosting Bible studies at our houses. Whatever the case, we all have lives outside of our writing careers. At least we should. Maintaining those things that are important in our lives while pursuing our God-given passion and talent for writing can be a draining (though fulfilling)endeavor. When the reality of the work sets in (revisions, copy edits, line edits, hours in front of a computer trying to make another story work), some authors decide the returns aren't worth the effort.

To be successful at what we do, we must accept early in our careers that it takes time to make money writing, that not everyone is going to love (or even like) our work and that sometimes the people closest to us won't understand the drive to complete the next story, sell the next book, continue the journey. Perhaps those closest to us don't understand that crafting a story is work. Perhaps they see our writing as a hobby - one that pulls us away from more important things (them!).

Whatever the case, to be successful as authors we must anticipate, acknowledge and accept the challenges that come our way. As with any journey God puts us on, we are not promised an easy path. We are only promised comfort and companionship along the way.

I guess my point is - being an author is one of the most fantastic jobs a person can have, but it requires a great deal of self motivation, self confidence and faith. Is it worth it? Of course! Is it easy? No. However, if it is your passion and your gift, what choice do you have but to push forward and strive to achieve all your goals and dreams?

Keep writing!

If

Do you ever wonder what life would be like if....

you'd taken that job opportunity that you were afraid to pursue?

you'd moved rather than stayed?

you'd had a child then rather than waiting until the money was there?

you'd stepped out in faith a little sooner?

you'd shared a little more of who you were or what you have?

you'd said you were sorry one more time?

Lately I've been thinking a lot about 'if only' and how those two little words can keep us frozen in place, afraid to move forward, afraid to look back. In my April release, Lakeview Protector, the heroine often wonders....what if...what if...what if. That question haunts her as she tries to move forward and live life in the wake of a horrible tragedy.

As I wrote the book, I found myself caught up in her struggle and wondering how a person could live with a descion that seemed to have completely altered her life. How do you go on when you feel one choice, one moment might have created a different outcome? A better one?

Of course, life is about moving forward and accepting that the past is just that - past. Still, do you ever wonder?