Book Clubs and Lessons Learned

A few years ago someone invited me to join a book club. I really didn't think I needed a book club and at the time my schedules were pretty full so did I want to add another thing to my already full calendar? After all I've been reading for most of my life -- I'm an avid reader. But since the gals were urging me to join them, I did. I can't even begin to tell you the way book clubs have added to my life. The biggest surprise was that I had narrowed my book world down to a comfort zone. I read my favorite authors, not a bad thing to do, but I didn't realize it limited my exposure to some wonderful new authors. When I moved from the east coast to the center of Florida and I found they didn't have a local book club, I started one!

I am continually surprised by the choices made and the enjoyment I get out of these 'new' authors, some of whom I regret I overlooked in the past. Our book club here is two different entities, the winter one, or as Floridians say, the 'seasonal one' which has about fifteen to twenty ladies every meeting. We meet once a month in a members house so that means we also get coffee and cookies or other lovely stuff. In the summer when our snowbirds have flown to points north, we, at first, disbanded. Then those of us who were left decided that just because we were small in number didn't mean we couldn't continue on. Our program changed. At winter meetings we chose a book, everyone reads it and at the meeting we discuss it. For our summer meetings we meet and discuss whatever books we've been reading. It gives us an even wider scope to investigate and I find myself making a summer reading list after every meeting. It always amazes me that each reader has something different to say even when we all agree it was a great book (or otherwise). They have honored me by reviewing one of my books and that was especially fun because I urged them not to sugar-coat their review. And, they didn't, another learning experience I thoroughly enjoyed.

But getting back to reading things you never would have chosen. Last week a friend suggested a book, in fact she even loaned me her copy. At first look I thought "I'll never read this," but politely took it and that night opened it up for the first time. Yesterday was our monthly book club and I wrote a review on this new book, a totally new-for-me adventure. This novel is Angelology by Danielle Trussoni. Here's what I wrote.

"If anyone had told me I would be reading a book about a 400 year old angel who lived with his family, mother included, in an exclusive, opulent New York penthouse and is losing his wings because of mold, has blood the color of sapphires, I'd have said, 'Yeah, right!' First of all, the angels in this book are certainly no angels; they are cruel, vicious, manipulating and down-right evil. But this book is fascinating in several senses. First it is beautifully written; second, it contains exceptional and brilliant imagination, religion and history. The research is unbelievably deep and well done. The story begins in a convent in upstate New York and the mystery that entwines the characters runs throughout the book and includes a young nun, her past family, an art dealer, a convent full of interesting and unusual nuns and religious history (beautifully done), angels, ancient history, modern history (WWII) and current history. I also involves art and culture. The book is written in definite segments. Spheres One, Two and Three and The Heavenly Choir. I absolutely loved the first part, thought the second part, while accurate was a bit tedious as far as background and scientific and religious input goes. Of course, this is a novel but the amazing part is that the author has woven a 'story' around and through a lot of history and scripture. I haven't finished the third part or the ending yet but I'm going to although I'm surprising myself. You just never know what lies between those covers unless you explore.

I'm a writer, books are my life and I've loved them all my life. So who needs book clubs? Everyone.

When you have something to say…say it.

I have been in the doldrums lately. My mother once used that phrase…I remember she was asked when she thought her ship would come in she said, "I don't know, it's probably caught up in the doldrums somewhere." I wasn't sure what the doldrums were so I looked it up. In addition to being 'low spirits' it also means 'equatorial ocean regions having little or no wind.' In other words her ship was caught in limbo. Well, that was me. I like to keep my blog going but lately there just wasn't anything to say. I was in those darned doldrums. But times are a'changing.

As I mentioned before, I had finished my latest manuscript and submitted it to my publisher and I was also debating whether to go back to one I'd started writing several times over the past few years. Well, I came to the conclusion, after several rewrites and injections of what I thought might be kickers, that this story just isn't going anywhere and I was pushing a loaded cart uphill. So, another set back, or so I thought. But, that wasn't what it was…because after some serious meditation and a few talks to myself, I realized I had another, completely new plot brewing! I haven't put fingers to the keyboard yet but the words are accumulating and will probably burst forth at any moment. So, now I have something to talk about. Not about the characters and plot, it's too early for that, but the burning embers I'm blowing on to create the necessary fire to go forth is there. It certainly is a spirit lifter.

And then…as if that wasn't enough I receved an exciting email from Florida Writers Association. Having been a member of FWA and planning on attending the conference in October, any communication is always welcome and this one hit the spot! I had submitted two short stories to the latest-to-be-published anthology the FWA publishes each year. This project began two years ago. The first collection was "Our Family to Yours" and submissions had to be about family matters, true or fictional. I submitted a couple of stories and one was picked for inclusion in the publication. Wow! Great! The next year the anthology was based on and called "A Slice of Life" and every story couldn't have a beginning or an end; it was just to be about a moment in time. A challenge for sure. Again I submitted some work and one was chosen for inclusion in book, too. Another Wow and Great! This year the anthology was more of a challenge, not that the other two weren't but the one for 2011 was entitled "Let's Talk" and all the entries had to be conversation only. That meant not one 'she said' or 'he remarked' not a single description…just dialogue. Another challenge but I love writing-challenges so I sent off two submissions. Last week I received an email saying one wasn't accepted. Was I disappointed? Sure but I thought to myself, "you can't win them all". But yesterday I received another email stating that they had chosen the other Let's Talk submission. Another Wow! Great! If truth be known I thought the first one might make it and was not at all sure the other would. Who knows? It's a matter of who reads them and what buttons they push. I'm pleased beyond words, if that's possible for a writer. Anyhow, the doldrums seem to have picked up a few new breaths of wind.

Guess I'll be saying something before you know it.

A Laugh-Out-Loud Moment

Being slightly OCD (obsessive compulsive -- I'm going to leave the word disorder off) I'm compulsive about a few things and then again a messy desk drawer doesn't bother me a bit. But if someone moves something on a shelf or puts something in the 'fridge where it 'doesn't belong', I am compelled to move it back where it lives.

The same rule has been applied to such rituals as reading the newspaper in a specific order, hanging everything in my closet by color code and type of garment, and counting the silverware and dishes as I remove them from the dishwasher.

I also hang onto old, very old, habits. One thing I remember from my childhood was my father telling me that by reading the comics in the newspaper every day you not only learn life lessons but begin your day with humor. I still read the comics every day, however, they are not on the top of the pile of newspaper sections. I sort the sections in order of reading, local news first, then world news, followed by other sections that appear on certain days of the week, like food columns and, lastly, the comics because that's also where the crossword puzzle is and I absolutely must do the puzzle! He also said that reading the want ads was a clear clue as to how the economy was going. I don't do that. Sorry, Daddy.

This morning, reading my daily newspaper, I got to the comic section and read only those strips that have made my 'list'. I always read Pickles by Brian Crane. Today's made me laugh out loud; causing my husband to look up from the sports section (I never read that). I had to read Pickles to him even though he isn't a laugh-out-loud kind of guy. He has a wonderful sense of humor but laughing out loud is not his thing. He did think this one was very funny, though.

I have to share this morning's Pickles with you. Pickles is a small box of three or four cells. The characters are an elderly couple. Today they are lying in bed, she reading the paper and he obviously trying to go to sleep. She reads, "It says here that when men sleep, 70% of their brain activity sleeps too. But when women sleep, only 10% of their brain activity goes to sleep. That's why I'm always more tired than you. My brain won't go to sleep."

And, he says, "It's probably just keeping your mouth company."

Hope you laughed out loud.

Betwixt and between

Betwixt and between. That's how I feel right now. It's a mixture of emotions, game playing and the dreaded "what lies ahead." But, it isn't something I haven't lived through before because it happens every time I finish another novel. You see, while writing I become so intertwined and part of the lives I'm creating they become real people to me. Close, as if part of my family. So when I write The End,even if it's only in my mind it's as if I've cut the umbilical cord, pushed the last bird out of the nest and watched as the last ship leaves shore.

Writing Finding Amy was a true labor of love, because it was, in part, based on fact. I loved the story, the characters, the outcomes even though at the start of the book I never expected the end that came about. You see, I'm not a true structured writer. Some authors have the entire plot in their heads before the first word is typed into the computer. Not me. I have the beginning of the plot and the characters in mind but the entire story is still a mystery in some ways. And, even if I think I have the plot kind of outlined, my characters sometimes have another view and off we go. Finding Amy took more time than any of my other novels. Probably the health problems for both me and my husband and the recuperating afterwards played a big part in that process. But, there was also a lot more research to be done with this book. Not that I'm complaining. I love researching because it's kind of like going back to school. You learn so much more than you even need to for the plot.

Now I feel ready to begin the next book. The outline has been wandering around in my mind for several years and I think this might be the time to begin. Still, I feel bound in some way to Finding Amy. It hasn't actually been launched, there are things that might need attention so am I ready for the next set of characters, the next set of plotting?

That's where the betwixt and between comes in. I seem to be in a flux, caught between the present and the past and peering tentatively into the future. It's a confusing time and I find myself not able to really concentrate on anything.

Then mix in the three day weekend and what I thought was Saturday was Friday and today, Monday, May 30th, feels like Sunday and not only is it Memorial Day but it's my granddaughter's thirtieth birthday and I'm 1200 miles away and you can see my indecision. Maybe I had better just lay low for a day or two, go to the pool and exercise with the girls, finish the book I'm reading, lounge a little. The only trouble with that is I'm not really a lounger so I'm going to have to put some effort into that too.

One thing I know though, it will all work out and before long I'll be grinding away at the computer doing what I love to do best in all the world.

So betwixt and between is just a hiatus. Good, now I've got that sorted out.

Bits and Pieces

There are so many things going on…some real and some in my head, perhaps trying to become real. Anyhow I thought if I jotted them down I might be able to reorganize my thoughts and actions, at least for the next few days.

First and foremost—I finished my latest manuscript! I am really happy about that. Of course I have come to love the story and the characters; that always happens. Somehow they just take a piece of my mind and heart right from the start and then go shooting off to the finish. This time though, I had a lot of interruptions, serious interruptions which have resulted in periods when I just couldn't work on what I wanted to…the book! Interruptions which were mainly health related and while they are not all solved or ended, recently I found time to work on 'the book', disappearing into my studio for longer and longer periods of time until this morning it is finished. This manuscript took a bit more research than some of the others but that's always interesting too. Of course, the dreaded editing and rewriting are looming before me but I honestly have to say I love that too. What I call the 'screen edit' has been done. That means I've been staring until I'm cross eyed at the computer screen. This morning, in between loads of laundry, I printed out the manuscript. All 368 pages of it. I've already eliminated about 1,000 words so I'll be looking for more ways to write a bit tighter. But,I'm convinced that in the near future I can honestly say, "It's finished". That is until I send it to my publisher.

Also on my mind are a variety of other things. One night last week I suffered one of my more sleepless nights. No matter what I did things in my head just wouldn't go away so I got up and jotted them down on paper. Sometimes that works. This time it didn't. The next morning, blurry eyed from lack of sleep, I looked at the paper. I'd listed poems and songs as well as books from my childhood. Now I have to admit that my mother was a great story reader and she also loved to recite poems and sing songs from her childhood. It wasn't until I was well into my adulthood that I realized what a treasure these were but of course, the hectic pace of life put them on the shelf. I hadn't thought of these things in years and years. I wondered if it had anything to do with Mother's Day because I sure thought about my mother a lot on that day, not that I don't think of her every day.

The fact I couldn't remember many of them made me nervous. As a writer and a supporter and teacher of the importance of keeping a record of family history, I felt compelled to do something about this. So, thanks to the Internet I Googled the names of the books, songs and poems. I found all of them except one but I'm determined to find that one too if it exists somewhere. My list contained Rudyard Kiplings Just So Stories and I copied all four of them from the Internet. I found one song, My Grandfather's Clock" and a poem, The Walrus and the Carpenter from Through the Looking Glass. The only poem I couldn't find was one that included the words, "Yesterday, beneath the rick, I broke his prison with my pick" It was a poem about a toad. Ah, well, I'll keep looking when I can.

Tomorrow I'll have another set of things to consider and that's okay too. I'm not complaining about anything because I love challenges and think that life itself is a challenge at times. I love my life, past and present, good and bad and we all have that. I thank God everyday for everything that has become part of my life because that's what makes ME.

LESSONS LEARNED

I've always thought I had a pretty good command of the English language. I attribute much of that to my father, who insisted we use words properly; that we challenge ourselves to broaden our vocabulary. One of his hard and fast rules was that if we didn't know what a word meant or heard a new word, we looked it up. When one of my daughters was in the fifth grade her teacher gave each of her students a button to wear on their shirts or jackets. It was bright yellow with red letters that stated "We never guess, we look it up". I think that was meant to cover reading, history, geography (do they even teach that anymore?) and,of course, English.

I know I'm not the run-of-the-mill language buff. I have a dictionary in the magazine rack next to my chair in the living room and if I come across a word I'm not familiar with, I look it up; there's a dictionary/thesaurus near my desk; and if something comes up on television, or in the newspaper and I don't know exactly what it is or means, I run to the computer and look it up. My gosh, that lesson has stayed with me!

In today's world our word usage has expanded immensely. I have to admit I don't know what some of the new lingo means and when I look it up I don't even understand the technical language, but I try.

Lately, and even though I don't want to get into politics, I have strong feelings about come of the current topics, but what I really want to see is something I call common sense put into place. Can something as simple as this prevail? My most current conundrum is the situation with gas prices which hit and hurt just about everyone in this country and are part of the myriad proposals facing us all. There seem to be many solutions and blame connected with this subject, offered by many people. One of the words bandied about is the word subsidy. It seems big oil companies need subsidies.

Excuse me but just look up the word subsidy. It means; financial support, financial assistance, financial funding, financial backing, grants and subvention. Notice all those 'financial' words. I always thought subsidies were a system used by government at all levels to help a struggling entity, to give a lift to new business or programs, or to help people with real needs.

Now here's the problem I have with this subject. How, I ask, does a company who boasts and posts bigger than enormous profits for one quarter of the year, qualify for a subsidy? What kind of financial help do they need? Are they in need of financial assistance? Financial backing? Grants? Small struggling businesses, businesses that, with some help, could expand thereby picking up some of the people who are looking for jobs, and people and programs in need might qualify for subsidies. But major, giant, thriving businesses don't need subsidies.

I think I might share this with some of our congressmen, maybe even the President. It's one small voice but perhaps we should raise some small voices. It's not against the law to raise a question or prompt a discussion. Subsidies for giant oil companies?

Another lesson my father taught me was that it was a privilege to be an American citizen (he was naturalized) but with that privilege came responsibility. We've always been a nation of responsible, privileged people. We help the poor and downtrodden. We share where we can. Isn't that just common sense?

I think we've all learned this kind of lesson sometime in our life. Lessons we should use.

A friend named Janie

Every morning, as early as possible in my busy days, I read from my daily devotional. It is a calm, rewarding break for me and I share the reading with my husband. We discuss the message for that day, look up the accompanying scriptures and often marvel at how spot on it is for that particular time, current 'problems' or concerns.

The very story behind the devotional is unusual. I read from a little book titled Jesus Calling, by Sarah Young. It is written in first person Jesus, so it's as if He's talking to you personally. I received the book from a friend in New Jersey. Nothing unusual about that but in this case there is. I have never met or spoken to this friend in Jesus. Another friend from Florida was receiving a daily "hug" from a lady named "Janie". She asked if I'd like to receive a hug every day and a spiritual message every evening. I, of course, said I'd love that. I can't tell you how much delight I've received from not only the wonderful book Janie sent me (when she learned I was dealing with a serious medical problem for my son) but also from her personal messages once in a while. We communicate via email and she has become a fan of my books, but I digress.

Yesterday's message really hit home. Of course, I cannot say that doesn't happen often because it does. But yesterday not only did the message hit the spot it drove itself right into my heart. Here's just a portion of the message, 'Walk with Me in holy trust, responding to My initiatives rather than trying to make things fit your plans. I died to set you free, and that includes freedom from compulsive planning. When your mind spins with a multitude of thoughts, you cannot hear My voice."

Well, that hit the nail on the head because I am a compulsive, obsessive PLANNER! In fact, here it is not even May and I'm planning for an October conference. There are some serious things to consider with regard to this event, but already I'm planning what might or might not occur. My plans usually are fraught with what I call my 'what if' syndrome. And, all this time I was wasting brain time. Oh, it's not that I haven't prayed about what I'm planning and I'm pretty sure that's okay but just taking over is not what He wants.

Every once in a while you have to bring yourself up short, open your eyes, which you thought were already open, and turn things over to God. I thought I was doing that but apparently I hadn't planned on this eye-opening, back to basics message I received yesterday. I'm grateful ever day for the blessings in our lives. I'm blessed - with many things and many people. One of them is named Janie.

Progress - is it all that's it's cut out to be?

I just spent a mind-boggling five days getting my latest book, Forgiven, entered into the Florida Writers Association RPLA competition. Two of my previous novels were entered and won some recognition. I love competitions, not only for the opportunities they sometimes provide but also just challenging myself and trying to get into the rush of things. Also, getting feedback from real judges is a great boost to an author. I hope all my writer friends try competitions and/or contests. It doesn't have to be something you think should really be on the New York Times best seller list (and how realistic is that?) but competions are a great writing tool. I tell my students that stretching your writing ability will only produce better writing. For me, I don't really enjoy writing short stories. I need 300 pages and 100,000+ words to get my story told as I'd like it. But I enter short story and poetry contests(another thing I'm not paticularly good at) just to see what happens. Sometimes I've been pleasantly surprised and at other times, I don't even get a response. Must have been pretty bad. But, the stretching part for me is to actually get a short story across in 1500 words. So, when this year's FWA competition opened I planned to enter my latest book.

Now we get to the progress part. In the past I read the instructions, typed up what was needed, crossed every 't' and dotted every 'i', pushed it into a properly addressed envelope with all the other things the competition required and took it to the post office. Easy, right? But, this year we have gone technical. All submissions must be electronic i.e., sent via email. Being totally inept at these mechanics, I studied and studied the instructions. They use language I'm not familiar with. So, I pored through the 20 pages of instructions again so that I would cross every 't' and dot every 'i' but it wasn't the 't/s' and 'i/s' I needed to be worried about. It was the instructions on how to get this into the email with the proper identifications, in the right order and to the right person.

This morning I assembled my submission, checking and rechecking the instructions. By jove I think I've got it. But, and here the heart comes to a slow halt, after I pushed the send button my mind catapulted through those 20 pages of instructions. Had I? Did I? Should I have? Oh, drat. It's gone and I'm hoping it just gets to the right person and gets processed. This is harder than writing the book! I guess it's progress and sometimes I think we as a culture try to simplify things by making them more difficult. One opinion, I'm sure.

This brought me to think about another 'progressive' thing I've experienced in the last couple of weeks. Two weeks ago I was at my doctor's office and he thought he found something that needed to be checked. I hadn't planned on this at all. In fact, I was on my way to my hairdresser. But, instead, the doctor sent me to the hospital for a test. Plans changed and I was a bit nervous. Upon arriving at the hospital, and God knows I've been there too often in the past couple of years, I checked in at the front desk. Usually you check in, they take your driver's license I.D. and your insurance cards and then send you off to the proper department. So, being savvy on these things I arrived at the front desk, cards in hand, expecting to follow the usual procedure. But, No. Things have been modernized. They didn't need my cards and I.D. The lovely young woman behind the counter handed me one of those square gadgets you get in restaurants which will alert you when your table is ready. You know the things, they blink inoccuously for a while and then go into a frantic buzzing, flashing and vibrating and you know your table is ready. The lovely young woman directed me to a waiting area and said when the 'buzzing thing' went off I could go into the lab. I did as I was instructed. Did I tell you it was pouring, one of Florida's quick and saturating downpours? Sitting on the chair with a very wet umbrella, the doctor's orders, and my I.D. cards in my hands I was comtemplating this unexpected turn of events when the buzzy thing went off. The umbrelly fell wetly to the floor, my cards flew in several directions and the doctor's orders suddenly became wet and wrinkled. My heart was in my throat; after all this was a bit scary just being there. Is this progress? I really think it would have been a whole lot kinder if I'd just waited my turn and had the lovely young woman call softly to me that it was my turn to go into the lab. I guess I'm just not programed for all this progress.

But, and there is always a but, I passed the test and I'm praying my submission entry flew through cyber-space and has safely landed in the right receptical or in front of the right eyes. Time will tell. We must keep up with progress even if it kills us.

My Mother's Birthday

Today is my mother's birthday. I can't bring myself to say 'would have been my mother's birthday' because every April 3rd is my mother's birthday. She left us way too soon, dying well into her 90th year. She would have been (those awful words again) 105 today.

I always thought of myself as a Daddy's girl but I certainly didn't love my mother any less. It was just that Daddy and I were so alike in many ways. I remember after his death, when my mother came to live with me, she'd often say, "Oh, you're so like your daddy)and her voice was wistful because she missed him terribly. I wondered, after his death, how she would manage because they were so close, but she stiffened her spine and carried on. They were the closest couple I've ever known, doing so much together and in their later years the bond became even closer, if that was possible.

I truly think of my parents every day even though both died many years ago but the memories of a different ilk. I remember fun times with both of them but the difference was that with Daddy it was always different or exciting and with Mother it was comforting, supporting, calming and loving. My earliest memories are of Mother reading to me. She read every day until my teen years when the after-school activities took over. Even so, we all read a lot, sharing favorite passages or reading to each other. As a child I remember Mother cuddling me to her when I scraped my knee, had a bad day or made a goal I'd set for myself. Her cheering was quiet, Daddy's was exuberant.

My parents didn't have a lot of friends they could interact with because they traveled so much, but I don't think they had a single enemy. I cannot remember an incident where my mother was angry or upset with anyone. She offered strict yet gentle discipline because while instilling in me a sense of what was acceptable and what was not, she never lost her temper. Was she a saint? I doubt it but to me she came really close to that stature.

I remember my mother with love and thanksgiving because that's what she instilled in me. I often wish I could leave the legacy she did but we had such different adult lives. She had Daddy for 53 years and he was a wonderful husband and father. Her life was steady, not that they didn't have difficult times but they faced them and solved problems together. My life was pock-marked with bad decisions and unfortunate happenings. I had a difficult time and it's only now in the last 16 years that I have the steadiness and love that I longed for. I loved my children with all my heart and I did my best.

For as long as I live, when April 3rd comes around I'll quietly celebrate my mother's birthday. I miss my mother.

P.S. When September 22nd comes around I'll celebrate my daddy's 105th birthday too. I miss him too.

Giving a Little

This is perhaps a double-edged sword about giving a little and reaping the good things in life.

We recently put our home on the market, yes, even with the dismal real estate situation, we thought that now was the time to take this step. It's based on several things. With consideration to the recent medical problems for both of us and the economy (ah, yes the economy), we thought that even though we love our home and our location, this might be the best course for us. When we made that decision it tugged at my heart. At our age? I thought. Do I want to be uprooted again? We've moved a lot in our 16 year marriage and prior to that my life seemed to be one long dislocation. But that is the past and now is now.

You see, we are not young anymore and things like maintenance and upkeep become more entailed and difficult. Our lovely home is bright and cheery and just what we always dreamed, a late-life gift, if you will. The five window, pale yet sunny-yellow kitchen is a dream come true. The spacious rooms are just that -- spacious. The laundry/pantry room is not a closet but a real room. I could go on and on about the pleasant surrounding we have occupied for the past six years but it isn't necessary. To top off this accolade, we live in a 55+ community with wonderful friends and neighbors. There is a Clubhouse for interesting activities,a great pool, tennis and an executive golf course to name only a few of the 'amenities'. The activities sound like a vacation heaven and yet you can opt to take part or not. Of course, our weather is wonderful except for our brief, unusually cool winter, and I know that makes our northern family and friends giggle. Cold to us is anything under 65°.

So why are we leaving? Well, for starters we aren't leaving our community, just the large home. There are other homes right here that are smaller, more compact and beautiful on a smaller scale so we wouldn't (hopefully) be leaving our utopia, just changing addresses. We are praying that this course of action will actually take place, and if it doesn't, well, although we can't turn back or erase the number of years God has gifted us with(nor do we want to), we know that whatever happens will be the right thing. We both find comfort in knowing that what we decide doesn't really matter because long ago we put our lives in His hands. So perhaps a double-edged sword might not be the right phraseology. We are blessed, not only by our surroundings but by the most important choices we made a long time ago. We put ourselves in God's hands and that's what really counts.