|
7/9/2023 0 Comments July 2023 Musings July 2023 Musings Never Too Late Happy July, friends! I hope your summer has been amazing so far! We just celebrated the 4th of July with fireworks and fun, and the rest of the summer will fly by now like the Chimney Swifts that have been soaring through the blue sky over our house and then disappearing just as quickly as they came. Time is also racing towards the publication date of my debut YA novel Free Sings the Sea in fall of 2024. The anticipation has been so exciting, and I am living in the moment and enjoying every step of the journey. As I prepare to go through the editing rounds on my manuscript, the focus this month has been on building my author platform. I was already a member of the writing community on Twitter, a group of supportive friends who I love and who have been supporting me daily, and I also created accounts for Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest and Goodreads. Those have been keeping me busy, and I have had the most fun creating edits and mood boards for FSTS. Spending more time with my characters has been a joy, and I can’t wait for you all to meet them. Time, in fact, is what I’ve been musing about this month. In our busy hustle and bustle lives, time is often something there is never enough of. And while it is true that the days fly by and we race to keep up with them, I find comfort in the idea that when it comes to meeting a goal or chasing after a dream, it is never too late. I thought that it might bring you comfort too. July is my birthday month, and I will be…55! Even I can’t believe it’s true. I have always loved writing, and many people have told me that I should be a writer. Life, however, got in the way. I was a busy homeschooling mom, and I was also dealing with complicated family issues and a difficult marriage. I didn’t know then what I know now, that getting up early and writing is good for my soul, and that no matter how chaotic life might be it whisks me away to another world and brings me peace. It all started, appropriately enough, one afternoon in the library. It was time for my baby son’s nap, so I paced up and down a quiet aisle with him in a sling until he fell asleep. And as I paced, the ending to what is now my women’s fiction second chance romance novel came into my mind. It was there, crystal clear and complete. I could see my main character and her children sitting around a fire, and the man that she loved lifting his hand in greeting as he walked up a beach trail. I fumbled with one hand through my messy backpack and pulled out the first scrap of paper I could find and wrote that ending down as quickly as I could. What a good afternoon that was! Not only did I leave the library with a bag full of books and a happy, rested baby, but my first novel had been born as well. When I got home that day, I pulled out an old spiral notebook. The next morning, I got up early and started to write. I have been up for the sunrise and writing every morning since then, and my baby boy will turn ten next month. It’s not an exaggeration to say that it changed my life. So the questions I have for you this month are: What is calling to you? What is your passion? Have you even thought about it lately? Because I have the best news- it is never too late! Don’t be afraid to try something new or follow a dream. It may take baby steps to get there, or you might have to make some major changes in your life to make it happen, but you will still feel better if you’re moving forward. In my forthcoming book, the love interest, Free, tells Shanna, the protagonist, that the opposite of ‘moving’ is ‘stagnant’. Stagnant water is still and putrid, there is no flow or forward movement. This month, I hope your creativity flourishes and you flow freely in the direction of something that is meaningful to you. It is never too late! Love, Stac
0 Comments
6/8/2023 0 Comments June 2023 Musings June 2023 Musings
Your Dream Happy June, friends! Summer will arrive this month, and I hope you have something fun planned! Here at my house, our homeschool year is wrapping up. I’ve been slicing cold, juicy watermelon for my kids every afternoon, which is a sure sign of summertime! This month, I’ve been musing about ways to encourage those of you who dream of being a published author someday. My message is for anyone who feels a little worn out and could use some inspiration to keep going. All of these suggestions truly helped me persevere for years, especially when I felt the most hopeless. I pray that you will find something useful, or at least find joy in the knowledge that you are definitely not alone! 5 Ways to Keep Your Dream of Being a Published Author Alive:
Love, Stac 5/20/2023 0 Comments May 2023 Musings May 2023 Musings
Book Blessings Happy May, friends! I hope you have been enjoying a lovely spring full of warm sunshine, beautiful blossoms and lengthening days filled with light. Here in North Carolina, the mountains are coming alive again after a long winter slumber, and the birds sing out the news from dawn till dusk that spring has sprung and summer is not far behind! This month, I have some very exciting news to share! My debut Young Adult novel FREE SINGS THE SEA will be published September 3, 2024 from Monarch Press! Dreams do come true. It has been a whirlwind week in my household with much celebration and rejoicing! My musings this month have been, oddly enough, though, on rejection. And that is because as writers we face a barrage of rejection at every turn. We have to be scrappy little fighters to persevere. If you are a querying writer, you are probably very familiar with form letter rejections that reject your work but try to soften the blow by telling you that it is a ‘subjective’ decision. I know from heartbroken personal experience that this line showing up in your inbox to haunt you is exhausting and frustrating. But I want to leave you with the thought that it is oh, so very true. When your heart, which is written all through your work, touches the heart of the agent or editor reading, then magic happens. It’s the reason why art in any form is special- it transcends the intellect and touches others in a very visceral way. Take courage, writers! Have a beautiful spring, friends, and please come back to visit often. I’m going to chronicle my publishing journey here, and we have many exciting moments to look forward to! Love, Stac 12/14/2022 0 Comments November 2022 MusingsNovember 2022 Musings I Hope You Dance Happy November everyone, and happy fall as well! It’s been a minute, as we say here in the south. I hope that you are all happy and healthy and looking forward to the holidays. I am definitely looking forward to Thanksgiving and Christmas, but I must say that what I have been doing the most this month is looking backward instead. My oldest daughter just got married! She married a wonderful young man of longtime family friends, and I couldn’t be more excited or happy for her. And yet… I find myself caught in an interesting moment in time that exists almost simultaneously in the past, present and future. I walk around my home doing ordinary chores and activities, but my mind seems to be mostly in the past remembering moments from my daughter’s childhood. And then my phone will chime, and I am back firmly in the present as she asks for my advice about a recipe. When we finish talking, I’m surprised to find myself in the future thinking about my grandchildren to come. But only until I visualize decorating a playroom for them filled with my daughter’s favorite old books and dolls, and then suddenly I am in the past again, having come full circle. Most of the people in my life do not realize that I am living in these multiple timelines, and I haven’t talked it over in depth with my daughter either. Not yet. I don’t want her to worry about me; I only want her to revel in this exciting season and look forward with joy to each dawning day of her new life. But when we do sit down with tea one day in the future, this is what I will tell her- It has been an honor and a privilege being your mom. You were a miracle from the moment you were born, the pediatrician present at my emergency c-section told me so, and you will always be a miracle. I used to see you hold out your tiny hand for the healthy snacks I made for you when you were little, and now I see you cooking healthy meals in your own kitchen. I used to see you draw in your sketch pad while I worked on my meal plan for the week, always trying to stretch a small budget over a lot of meals, and now I see you working hard to create your own budget friendly meal plan with creativity and love. I used to fold your small socks and dresses, and now I see you sitting on your bed folding your husband’s big work clothes. I see the love and nurturing that I poured into you being poured back out into your husband from a supply that I know will never end. I see your eyes lit up on Christmas morning, I see you on stage acting in the plays you loved so much, I see you singing ‘The Climb’ at your voice recital, and I know that your climb has just begun. I can’t wait to see you with your own children, but I will still always see you as a child yourself, running across the sun-dappled backyard in your sundress with your long, curly hair streaming behind you. I’ll hear your golden bracelets jingling on your arm as you come down the stairs with your Bible to sit at our sunlit table with me in the mornings. I remember when Grandma dedicated to you the song ‘I Hope You Dance’, and she also bought you a gift book with the cd in the back. We tucked the book away in your hope chest where it will stay now in your new home. Your hopes and dreams came true, and you are married to the love of your life. I am so thankful, and I agree with Grandma. What I desire the most for you is a joyful, passionate life full of love and simple pleasures. I hope you dance. So back to you, my friends. If you have children, love them well- even after sleepless nights, even in the hard times. Their years at home will go by astoundingly fast. The memories you are making now, will be the ones flashing through your mind in the future when you, too, begin living in multiple timelines all at once. Love, Stac
4/30/2022 0 Comments April 2022 MusingsQuerying Quandary April 2022 Musings Querying Quandary Happy April everyone! And happy spring as well! If you are here because you are a writer, I hope that the beautiful sunshine and longer days have been inspiring for you. If you are a reader, I hope you have found a sunny spot to curl up in with a book you love. I have been writing and revising every day. Oddly enough, I haven’t been querying much this month, but I have been musing on it more than ever. When I think about my writing journey from my first agent query to now, I find a close parallel in falling in love or beginning an exciting new relationship juxtaposed with the same relationship when the euphoria wears off and the hard times begin. You know that thrilling, dizzying feeling you have when you fall in love, when you are still so sure it was meant to be? I felt that way about my first novel manuscript. I don’t remember having any doubt in my mind that it would be published- in fact, I sent the barely edited first draft in a query to a successful agent at an established literary agency and then innocently waited for her to get back to me with an offer! I sent another woefully unready young adult manuscript to my dream agent. I read an interview where he said that there was no such thing as a dream agent, but I didn’t believe him because he was my dream agent. Confusing? Definitely. A quandary? Always. But it was so much fun! The breathlessly hitting send on a query and then waiting for the replies felt remarkably like the adrenaline rush you get when you are waiting to hear back from someone you are in love with. In those first stages of trying to become published, the real world fades away and you live in your own little writing reality, just like when you are in love and nothing else seems to matter. It’s a wonderful, heady time, and I do miss it! So there you are, wandering around in your writing daze, researching agents (so sure that their manuscript wish lists sound uncannily like your manuscript), sending queries, checking your email constantly, when…BAM! Yep, you get your first rejection. And then another and another. It never gets easier, and it always feels like someone just stomped around on your heart. The doubts set in, and the fear. Now the falling in love feeling is replaced by frustration and even anger, and your new relationship with the publishing world becomes more complicated. It’s a similar feeling to realizing as a relationship progresses that the person you love is not perfect all of the time. Real life begins to slowly intrude on your consciousness again, and it’s not always pleasant. In fact, the pain can get even worse as query rejections become rejections on full manuscripts. The only thing to do at this point is persevere. Just as when you are having relationship problems you can seek counseling, when you are having problems in your publishing journey you can find help from others. Query critiques are extremely helpful, as is support from other writers like the Writing Community on Twitter. If you are a writer who understands my publishing journey/love affair analogy, maybe even too well, then what I wish for you is that you get your Happily Ever After in the end. An HEA may be different for every writer. Maybe you will begin a new WIP and feel that first flush of new love again. Maybe you will find the best news in an email and receive an offer of representation from an agent who believes in you. Maybe you will decide to self-publish and love it. My hope is that this will be the month you get good news- whatever that means for you! Love, Stac 3/1/2022 1 Comment February 2022 MusingsDon’t Give Up? February 2022 Musings Don’t Give Up? Happy February everyone! And guess what? We made it through January again! I don’t know about you, but getting past January each winter always gives me hope. Warmer weather is coming! In North Carolina where I live, February is also the month that the beautiful Daffodils come out and brighten up the drab winter landscape with their cheerful yellow color and their promise that spring is on the way. This month I have been musing about three little words- DON’T GIVE UP. I like the words. I like what they stand for, and I tend to use them frequently with only the best of intentions. It has come to my attention, however, that some of you don’t share my fondness for the don’t give up mentality, and you have every right to feel that way. There are many on the “don’t give up team” when it comes to encouraging each other in the writing community through the arduous process of querying and trying to become published, but if that advice doesn’t resonate with you it is a perfectly valid experience. To illustrate, I am going to share one of my biggest parenting failures with you. When my oldest son was younger, he was involved in community theater with my daughter. She loved it, and he didn’t. During one play, he went through the audition process and was given his part. Then he decided that he wanted to drop out. Because I wanted to teach him an important life lesson, I encouraged him not to give up. I’m sure I gave an impassioned speech on how life was going to be hard, and how he had to learn to persevere even when he didn’t feel like it. You know the sort of speech- be strong, finish what you start, don’t let others down. Sounds reasonable, right? Well, he did learn his part and stick it out through that whole play. As I recall, he did so without complaining, too. But do you know what? Years later we drove by the old school where they had play practice twice a week, and my son told me that he still gets sick to his stomach every time he passes the building. It broke my heart, I can tell you. He hated that experience so much that it affected him mentally and physically, even years later. I respond well to DON’T GIVE UP. My grandfather taught it to me through many life lessons, and it has helped me throughout my life. It helps me tremendously with my writing and querying, which can be such a demoralizing experience. But my son did not respond well to that kind of motivation. You might be like me, or like my son, or somewhere in between. The point is that everyone does not need to be pushed at all times. And you don’t need to push yourself to the breaking point, either. If it is your personality to go hard and never give up, then draw on that strength to help you when you need it. But you are just as strong and special if you need to take a step back and focus on self-care for a time. If you are exhausted from banging your head against the publishing industry wall, it is okay to take a detour and do something else and look for joy elsewhere. If you love to write and it is your dream, you can come back to it, or take a less traditional route to publication. The moral of this long-winded blog post story is to live in the present moment as much as possible. Life is short. My son’s experience in theater was many years ago, and yet it feels like it was just yesterday. Use helpful advice and well-intentioned cheerleading from others if it resonates with you, and discard the rest. If you are the type of person who thrives on encouragement and who loves to be pushed when you feel like you might quit, then I will say it again- DON’T GIVE UP. If, on the other hand, you do not want to hear those three words again, then I understand. And I believe in you whether or not you ever get published, just because you’re you. Love, Stac 1/19/2022 0 Comments January 2022 MusingsIt’s Gonna Snow! Happy New Year, friends! It is, unbelievably, a whole new year. I don’t think any of us will miss last year. And most of us don’t dare to dream that this year will be any different. Collectively, as a society, as humans on this spinning planet, we are all exhausted. We have all experienced trauma from this global pandemic in some way. Or in many ways. It would be easy to give in to pessimism and expect the worst from the coming year. It would be even easier to succumb to apathy and simply not care one way or the other what happens next. What I have been musing about this month is how we can keep that from happening, and how we might go about staying afloat when those waves of fear and anxiety and depression threaten to crash over us and destroy all hope for better times ahead.
If you visit me today in my old farmhouse in rural North Carolina, we could sit down to a steamy mug of tea or coffee. We could try to carry on an intelligent conversation and get to know each other. It would be difficult, though, and that is because my two youngest children are bouncing around the house in anticipation of an event that will happen tonight. You might try to smile and be polite and act like my kids aren’t completely out of control, but you will hear one thing shouted over and over- “It’s gonna snow!” Now, if you are from somewhere where it snows all winter long, you won’t be able to understand what the excitement is all about. You know that snow just makes life even more complicated than it already is. Southern mamas know that too, but our kids don’t. Here in North Carolina, we only get one good snow a winter, if that. Our kids live for getting out there and making a snowman and sledding and having snowball fights, and then coming in and warming up with a big cup of hot cocoa. The snow will only last one day, but children will enjoy every second of it. And that’s what got me thinking. What if we try to do the same thing this year? What if we try to look forward to the simple things in our lives with the single- mindedness of a child? Warm pancakes covered in melted butter and drizzled with sticky sweet maple syrup, a hot cup of cinnamon apple tea, a good book- maybe a favorite old one faded and torn but as comforting as an old friend. Those of us who write can spend cold, grey days curled up under afghans creating characters and stories that carry us far away on grand adventures. Some of you might look forward to painting or crocheting or creating art that makes you feel alive. Walking, exercising, cooking, the possibilities are endless. Whatever you choose to look forward to, try to look forward to it like an excited child when snow is on the way! I know it’s hard. We’re all scared for ourselves and our loved ones. We’re scared for the world that seems to have gone mad. Sometimes all we can do is get through the day or even the next hour. And that’s okay. Be gentle with yourself, and take your time. But when you feel strong enough, begin to look forward and maybe even dream a new dream. I wish you all a happy and healthy 2022, and I will definitely be looking forward to spending more time with you! Love, Stac 12/9/2021 1 Comment December 2021 Musings HOPE FOR CHRISTMAS
A Christmas short story The grocery store was crowded that Christmas Eve. Joanna had done everything she could to avoid being in the store that afternoon, but she had to finish cleaning one last house before she could buy any food for Christmas dinner. Her two-year-old little boy was starting to whine, and her girls trudged along beside her looking almost as exhausted as she felt. Joanna sighed. She instantly regretted it when her glasses fogged up from her mask. The pandemic had been going on for almost two years, and she was bone-weary. “Mommy, can we get grapes?” Lexi asked, looking up at her hopefully. “No, baby, we can’t afford it,” Joanna told her. “And keep your hands away from your face.” How many things had she already told them they couldn’t have? She’d lost track. Her kids were so used to her not being able to afford things that they didn’t even fuss about it like other children. “Mommy, out!” James said again. She started to sigh but stopped herself and pulled him out of the seat and onto her hip. They got in line six feet behind the man in front of them, and Joanna looked in her cart. Christmas dinner was going to be small and simple, but even so, she wasn’t sure she would have enough money to cover everything. She made a mental note of what she would leave behind if she had to eliminate something as James made a grab for the candy on the nearby rack. “No,” she told him, rocking him back and forth. Sarah, her oldest daughter, came to her rescue. “Peekaboo!” she said, hiding behind Joanna and then popping out in front of him. James giggled, and then mercifully it was their turn to check out. When the cashier told Joanna her total, it was a few more dollars than she had. Regretfully, she took the kids' Veggie Straws out of a bag and handed them back. They were the girls’ favorite snack that she could never afford, and she had been hoping they would be something fun for them to have on Christmas. “We’ll leave these,” she said, feeling like the worst mom in the world. The girls looked down, clearly disappointed, but they didn’t complain. Joanna pulled the cart behind her, still carrying James, and found their van. She buckled him into his car seat, then put hand sanitizer on all the little hands. “I’m going to deal with the groceries,” she said, “be right back.” She handed them baby wipes, then went around to the back of the beat up old van. It was while she was putting the heavy potatoes in that she heard a deep voice behind her. “Jo? Is that you?” Her heart stopped, it really did, just for a moment, and she turned slowly around. Ben stood there smiling at her. His hair a little silver at the temples, a mask dangling from one ear, but still, unmistakably, Ben, her high school sweetheart and first love. A smile lit up her face, and even though he couldn’t see it behind her mask, he must have seen it in her eyes because he put his own mask back on and hugged her, then twirled her around in a big circle. “It’s so good to see you!” he said, putting her back on her feet. “How’ve you been?” “Umm, okay,” Joanna said, trying to pull herself together. “Are you visiting for Christmas?” “Actually, the kids and I just moved back, and we’re living in Mama’s old house.” “Oh...I was sorry to hear about your Mama,” he said, gently. “And... your husband?” “We’re divorced,” she told him, “and he’s still up north.” “I’m sorry,” he said again. Joanna was sorry about her Mama too, she missed her every day. But she wasn’t sorry about her marriage. It had been a big mistake, and it had ended when her ex-husband cheated on her with another woman. It was hard making it on her own, exhausting being a single mom, but she was thankful to be free. She looked into Ben’s beautiful brown eyes. “And you? Do you have a family?” “Just my horses and my dogs,” he told her cheerfully. “I still live out at the ranch.” “Mommy!” James suddenly wailed from inside the van. “Oh, I’ve kept you too long,” Ben said. “I’ll let you go, but could I say hi to the kids first?” Joanna remembered that he had always loved children. “Of course, come on around.” She opened the door, and he leaned down, smiling. “Hi, guys!” “Hi!” the girls said in unison. James looked steadfastly the other way. “I’m Ben, an old friend of your Mom’s. Are you ready for Christmas?” “Yes, sir,” Lexi said. Sarah nodded silently. “Hey...” Ben said, straightening up and turning to Joanna. “I don’t know if you already have plans for tonight, but my church is having a Christmas Eve service, and you’re welcome to come. It’s at my old church, the same one that you used to go to with me. There will be some really fun activities for the kids and Christmas carols.” Joanna noticed the girls grinning and whispering to each other. “There’ll be some fun for the grown-ups, too,” Ben added, winking. She couldn’t see his dimples, but she knew they were there. “Thanks, I’ll think about it,” she promised. “Great, if you let me see your phone I’ll add myself to your contacts, and if you decide to come I’ll text you the time and details.” While she rummaged in her backpack for her cellphone, he jogged across to his big Ram truck and reached inside, then came back rubbing sanitizer on his hands. “There we go, okay…” He put his number in and handed her phone back to her. They stared at each other for a minute with silly grins on their faces until James started to fuss again. “Oh, right,” he said, “I have to let you go. I’m so glad that I ran into you.” “Me too,” she said, thinking what an understatement that was. “It was really good to see you, Ben.” “You too. Maybe I’ll see you tonight?” He gave her one last grin, then turned and headed back to his truck. She admired him as he went, from the top of his cowboy hat to the tips of his dusty cowboy boots. When she had climbed in the van and buckled up, Sarah said, “He was nice, Mommy.” “Yeah, he is,” Joanna agreed, digging through her backpack again for a baggie of Cheerios. “Here, open these and give them to James for me, please.” The whining stopped. It would only be temporary, but it was a relief. “Can we go to church tonight, Mommy?” Lexi asked. That was the question that Joanna had been asking herself. “I’m not sure yet; let me think on it.” “If we go, I’m wearing my red dress,” Lexi said, sounding pleased. “If we go, I’m wearing jeans and a hoodie,” Sarah told her. “You can’t wear jeans to church on Christmas Eve!” Lexi said. “Can too!” While they bickered, Joanna tried to decide what to do. She was still amazed that she had run into Ben, and she felt flushed with excitement. She glanced in the rearview mirror and touched her pink cheek. If only she would have taken a few minutes to tidy herself up before they ran to the store. Her coat was at least ten years old, and her long hair that was starting to be threaded with silver was slipping out of her ponytail. The truth was, she couldn’t remember the last time that she cared what she looked like. On that depressing thought, she started to contemplate how she had gotten to where she was in life. Part of it was her past mistakes, she acknowledged that, but part of it was also that she was trying to live a dream. Joanna was a writer who had always dreamed of writing a novel, and now she had done it. Juggling writing with her house cleaning business and her kids had been hard, but worth it. There was never enough money, but she had hoped that it would be easier when her book was out in the world. It turned out, though, that actually getting published was way harder than she thought it would be. The first step was finding an agent, and that was next to impossible. She had queried nearly a hundred agents with her manuscript, but when she checked her email there was always just another rejection. Maybe it was time to give up. “James is asleep, Mommy.” “Okay, thanks, honey.” She glanced back at her girls. The next day was Christmas and they were so excited, but she had only been able to buy them one gift each. She couldn’t even buy them their favorite snack. And now they wanted to go to church. It might be fun for them, but Joanna was nervous. She didn’t have anything decent to wear, and there would be so many new people to talk to. But it’s Christmas Eve, she told herself firmly, and surely she could find enough Christmas spirit to do it for her kids. She took a deep breath- and decided to go. ~ Joanna had made the right decision for once. The Christmas Eve service at Ben’s church had been perfect. They had kept it mostly outside for safety, everyone had worn their masks, and the people had been endlessly kind. The kids had fun and made new friends, and as a bonus they had played so hard that they might even sleep in until seven the next day on Christmas morning. Probably not, but a girl could dream. And then there was Ben. Joanna felt a smile on her face just thinking about him. During a quiet moment in between Christmas hymns, he had told her that he had missed her every day throughout the years. He had looked after her the whole evening so that she wouldn’t feel uncomfortable, and had even helped her chase after James. Joanna felt grateful. Grateful, but freezing cold. The temperature had dropped during the evening, and there was a heavy, damp feeling in the air. They were all four chilled to the bone. There wouldn’t be much relief when they got home, either. Her mom’s old house had an equally old furnace that barely worked. She needed to have a repair man come out and look at it, but there was never enough money for that. Her current plan was to get the kids home and into footie jammies and bed as quickly as possible so that she could pile all of the blankets in the house on top of them. It was a good plan, but like most of her plans it didn’t work out quite like she thought it would. She pulled her sleepy, cranky toddler out of his seat and hurried the girls to the door, then quickly opened it and went inside. It was icy. Something was wrong. She ran to the closest vent and held her hand over it and felt nothing at all, not even the lukewarm air that usually blew out of it. The old furnace had breathed its last. “I’m cold, Mommy!” Lexi said. “I know baby,” Joanna told her, rubbing her hands together and trying to think. It was Christmas Eve. No one would come to help them even if she had any money, which she didn’t. She sank down into a kitchen chair with her coat still on and let the black cloak of despair which had been following her around for weeks settle comfortably onto her shoulders. ~ “Mommy,” Joanna heard Sarah say, as if from far away. Slowly she became aware of her surroundings again, and the first thing she noticed was the hot tears on her cheeks. She tried so hard to never cry in front of the kids, she knew how unsettling it was for them, but somehow it almost didn’t seem to matter anymore. “Mommy!” This time Lexi yanked on her coat sleeve. Both of the girls were pressed up against her legs, and James was still in her lap, huddled as far into her coat as he could go. Lord, she prayed, give me strength- show me what to do. Then a plan began to form in her mind. There was only one heat source in the house, and that was the kitchen oven. Sometimes on cold mornings she would turn it on and leave the door cracked, and they would gather around it to keep warm while she made pancakes. They would just have to sleep in the kitchen close to the stove. It would be the only way to not freeze during the night. “Baby,” she said to Sarah, “run back to Grandma’s room where our moving boxes are and see if you can find me the blowup bed we brought from the old house.” Sarah took off through the house with her sister close behind, flipping lights on as she went. Joanna hoisted James up onto her hip, then went to preheat the oven. A half hour later, the bed was ready and sitting in the middle of the old farmhouse kitchen with every blanket they could find in the house piled on top of it. Teeth were brushed, jammies were on, and they were all cuddled in and ready for the bedtime story. Joanna propped herself up higher with a pillow and opened the book. “Wait!” Sarah said suddenly. “Did you check your email today to see if any agents got back to you?” Joanna sighed and set the book back down. She felt emotionally drained and exhausted, and she just wanted to go to sleep. “No, I didn’t,” she said wearily. Lexi knew that Joanna was writing a book, but she didn’t understand much more than that. Sarah was nine, however, and had more of a grasp of the situation. She knew that if Mommy got an agent, then the agent would help Mommy sell her book. And she knew that Mommy checked her email all of the time because that was the place where this agent magic would happen. “Check it now!” Sarah encouraged her. “Honey, listen,” Joanna said, “I appreciate you being on Mommy’s team for sure, but agents spend time with their families during Christmas break just like everyone else, and they don’t have much time to read. I probably won’t hear anything at all from any of the agents I queried until after the New Year.” “But Mommy,” Sarah said earnestly, “tonight at Ben’s church the kids had prayer request time before we played games, and I prayed for you to get good news from an agent.” “Awww, I appreciate that, baby, thank you.” Joanna picked the Christmas book back up. “Go and check, Mommy,” Lexi said, starting to pick up on her sister’s excitement. Joanna hated to disappoint them, but she realized that she would have to check her email if there was any hope of them listening to the story and going to sleep. She got up and winced when her feet touched the icy floor, then went to get her phone out of her backpack where she had left it hanging on a hook by the door. James tried to follow her, and Sarah held him on the bed, which made him wail. Joanna hurried back and climbed underneath the covers. Big eyes watched as she checked her email. As soon as it loaded, she was surprised to see that there was an agent reply, and she braced herself for that sinking feeling in her stomach and in her heart that always accompanied a rejection. She tapped on it, dreading telling the girls. And then she caught her breath. For the second time that day, her heart seemed to stop. It wasn’t a rejection after all! As a matter of fact, it was the exact opposite- it was an offer of representation, and an invitation to set up a call at her convenience after Christmas. “Mommy?” Sarah asked, sounding concerned. Joanna realized that she was just staring at her phone. She looked up. “You were right, I did hear back from an agent! She was one of my favorites, too. She wants me to call her after Christmas.” “That’s good, right?” Sarah asked. “That’s the best thing ever, baby!” Joanna told her, pulling all three of her kids into a big bear hug. “I told you!” Sarah said, all smiles now. “It’s a Christmas miracle!” “You know, I think it just might be,” Joanna told her. “Now, let’s get you to sleep so Christmas can come.” James was grabbing for her phone, so she went to put it back in her backpack before she tucked them in. This time she was glad to feel the icy floor because it meant that she wasn’t dreaming. As she slipped her phone in one of the front pockets, she noticed an envelope. “What’s this?” she wondered out loud. She opened it and was amazed to see money inside. “What in the world?” She pulled the money out and started counting it slowly, almost unable to believe her eyes. There was enough money in her hands to call someone to repair the furnace. There was enough to pay the electric bill which had been worrying her for days. And there was even enough for a big bag of Veggie Straws. Someone at the church must have snuck the envelope into her backpack before she left. Just then her phone dinged, and she pulled it out. It was a text from Ben. “Hey Jo! I hope you and the kids had fun tonight. Wondered if maybe you would like to bring them out to the ranch after lunch tomorrow? We could show them all the animals, and I have a little pony I think is just the right size for them to ride. Please? I would love to see you, Jo.” She grinned and didn’t even have to think about her reply. “I can’t think of anything I would love more,” she texted back. “And thank you.” In somewhat of a daze, she walked back into the kitchen with the kids and stopped just before she climbed into the bed. They all became quiet and listened. It was a Christmas carol. Ever so softly, they could hear the beautiful words of O Holy Night outside the window. The girls flew out of the bed and ran into the living room with Joanna and James right behind them. Joanna pulled back the curtain and wrapped them all up in an afghan from the back of the couch, and they looked out. There, in the middle of the front yard, illuminated by a beautiful moon, stood a group of people singing. “Christmas carolers!” Lexi whispered. But it can’t be, Joanna thought. Their old farmhouse was out in the middle of nowhere, and they had never had Christmas carolers before. And yet there they were. When the lovely song ended, the carolers began to sing Joy to the World. As Joanna watched, the first delicate snowflakes began to fall. “It’s snowing!” the girls shrieked. “Can we go out? Please, please?” Joanna decided that it was a night to throw caution to the wind, a night to make memories, and she really wanted to thank whoever had driven so far down the old country road to sing Christmas carols for them. “Okay, guys, but only for a few minutes, it’s getting really late.” The girls were already running for the back door. “Put your coats on!” Joanna slipped her own coat on and zipped James into his, then followed them out. The snow was getting thicker, and the ground was covered in a thin white layer like cake frosting. The front lawn was covered too when they walked around the side of the house- even the spot where the Christmas carolers had been only a few minutes before. It was as if no one had been there at all; even the snow in the driveway was untouched. “What on earth?” Joanna said. But the girls weren’t listening. They were running around with upturned faces trying to catch the falling flakes on their tongues. She laughed and ran to them, and they all danced in a circle together in the snow. Joanna felt something then that she hadn’t felt in a very long time. She felt hope. And hope, after all, was what Christmas was all about. The End 11/8/2021 0 Comments November 2021 Musings Thankful Happy Thanksgiving to my American friends! And to my friends who don’t celebrate Thanksgiving- Happy November! Thanksgiving is a great time of year to count your blessings and focus on what you are thankful for. It’s so expected, though, that I was tempted to write something completely different this month and go in another direction altogether. And let’s be honest, it has been a HARD couple of years! It’s been so hard, in fact, that I decided I really should focus on thankfulness even if I wasn’t inspired to. Actually, ESPECIALLY if I wasn’t inspired to! And I decided to focus on simple things that I am thankful for. Of course there are the big things as well- teachers and health care workers come to mind. What heroes they have been through these difficult times! Sometimes when the world seems to be spinning out of control though, it is good to focus in, to find the magic in the mundane. With that in mind, here are only a few of the first things to pop into my head when I count my blessings this year… I am thankful for: -The writing community on Twitter. When you bring a group of people together who dream of a different reality, who have characters of all kinds living in their heads, and who have stories inside themselves that need to be shared and then read by others, camaraderie and magic happens. Trust and support happens. And fun happens. -My little boy’s shiny, golden hair. We haven’t taken him for a haircut in months because of the pandemic. It was in his eyes and tickling his ears, so I cut the sides and bangs for him but left the rest. Now he has a little mullet straight out of the 80s! It’s so cute that it makes everything he does even funnier than normal, and can’t we all use a good laugh right now? -My youngest daughter’s love for reading. She is the most like me when it comes to loving books! Right now she is reading one of my favorite Rosamunde Pilcher novels, and it is such a joy to be able to talk to her about the characters like they are real. “I met Pandora!” she will say, and my heart sings. Or, “I just read a chapter about Henry, and I love him!” Is there anything better than talking about a book you love with someone who loves it too? -Christmas Carols! Especially the old, classic ones with the choirs and the magical, tinkling bells. If you want a little pick-me-up, just light some candles and put on a Christmas playlist the next time you’re cooking supper, and you’re guaranteed to feel like a kid again, or at least a happier version of your current age! -Sunrises and sunsets. I see the spectacular sunrise from my kitchen window in the mornings, and the beautiful orange and pink sunsets from my living room window while I write in the afternoon. It always reminds me of Lamentations 3:22-23- THROUGH THE LORD’S MERCIES WE ARE NOT CONSUMED, BECAUSE HIS COMPASSIONS FAIL NOT. THEY ARE NEW EVERY MORNING; GREAT IS YOUR FAITHFULNESS. There is peace in knowing that the sun comes up every morning, and with it hope for another day. -Savory Winter Vegetable Pie. Yep, I’m thankful for pie. Our family transitioned to a vegan diet many years ago, and it’s one of the best decisions we have ever made. That first Thanksgiving though, I was confused. What could take the place of the turkey as the center of the meal at our dinner table? Enter the pie. I will include the recipe for you down below, and I hope that it blesses your family as it has ours. -You, if you are reading this now. I am thankful for you. Thank you for taking the time to visit my website, and to read my musings. I appreciate you. I have no way of knowing what season of life you are in right now, though I would love to hear from you in the comments, but I do wish you the very best this holiday season. If you are able to come up with your own little list of things to be thankful for, I hope that you are blessed when you contemplate all that is good in your life. And if you are going through an extremely difficult season and it is hard to even find small, simple things to be thankful for, then I understand, and my thoughts are with you. I pray that you will find a way out of your difficulties, and that you are able to dream a new dream. Don’t give up. -Stac’s Savory Winter Vegetable Pie- Mix 4 cups of unbleached all-purpose flour together with 2 ½ teaspoons of salt, 1 ¼ cups of canola oil and 6 tablespoons of water. This will create your oil dough crust. Press most of it down into a foil-lined baking pan, saving a little to use as a topping. Next, fill a large pan with 2 tablespoons of oil, 2 chopped potatoes, 1 chopped sweet potato, 2 chopped carrots, 2 chopped pieces of celery, and 1 small chopped onion. Add 3 cups of water, then sprinkle salt, thyme and sage to taste over it all. Bring to a boil, then stir in 2 tablespoons of oil mixed with 3 tablespoons of flour. Turn it down to simmer for 15 minutes. Now pour it (carefully) into your crust, and crumble the remaining crust all over the top. Bake for half an hour, or until it is a nice, golden brown. Now…..enjoy! This freezes really well, and I always double the recipe and make two, then freeze one. During the winter, there is always someone who could use a nice hot meal, and with some bread and a dessert, you’ll have just the thing to bring. Or , serve it to your own family when it has been one of those hard days and the very last thing you feel like doing is getting into that kitchen and cooking ! 10/11/2021 0 Comments October 11th, 2021Go For Grit
Happy October, and I hope that you’re having a wonderful fall! It occurred to me that on my writing website, I have yet to muse about writing. So, let’s do something about that! My creative journey began about six years ago when I started drafting my first novel instead of just dreaming about it. I have learned so many lessons since then, but today I want to focus on three of the most important ones. Number one would have to be: It’s the journey, not the destination. That sounds like a cliché, but it happens to be true when it comes to publishing. When I started writing, I had just become a single mom of four children. I was inspired to start fresh and dream big, but at the same time I felt the weight of supporting my kids fall squarely on my shoulders. I fantasized about writing THAT NOVEL- you know, the kind of book that an agent would fall in love with and then sell right away, maybe even at auction! And since I’ve had quite the imagination since birth, I couldn’t see any reason why my book wouldn’t quickly become a movie or a Netflix series as well. And then reality set in. This writing gig was a marathon, not a sprint, and I had to be in it for the long game. I joined the writing community on Twitter, and for the first time in my life I found my tribe. I started to learn and make friends and enjoy the process and the writing journey. I still dream about the day I become a published author, but writing every day just for the sense of peace it brings me is what I love. So, if you are beginning your writing journey or slogging along in the query trenches, try your best not to get discouraged. Settle into your journey and find joy in it along the way. Make some good writer friends if you can and cheer each other on. Read, read, read, because there’s no better way to improve your craft and have fun while you’re doing it. And please try not to be discouraged when everything doesn’t go according to plan. Which leads me to the second lesson I have learned... Number two is: Lower your expectations. That sounds contrary to common motivational jargon about reaching for the stars and dreaming big, I know. It’s not about doubting yourself or settling for second best, though. It’s more about taking some of the pressure off yourself and hoping for the best while realizing that everything won’t happen RIGHT AWAY. You may put a lot of pressure on yourself to fly through the publishing process. You will expect the first draft of your book to be ready to query, to acquire an agent right away, and for your agent to find a home for your book pronto. When those things don’t happen immediately, you will open the door of your heart and let discouragement and doubts about yourself begin to creep in. Would you believe it if I told you that I sent the first draft of my very first novel to a dream agent, and then kept checking my email waiting for a full request and then an offer of representation? Wow, did I have so much to learn. Published authors much wiser and more experienced than I was almost invariably warned that the publishing journey was going to be long and hard. They were right, of course. Once again, this isn’t meant to be discouraging, but rather it is meant to give you hope. You will have to query for a long time, and you will have to deal with rejections. Sometimes you won’t receive a rejection, you will just never hear from the agent you submitted to, as if your heart and soul weren’t in that manuscript and it just didn’t matter. But it does matter, and in time you will start to make progress and connect with the right agent who is meant to be on your team. My very favorite saying by those who walked this publishing mountain trail before us is: It only takes one yes. I am moving forward believing this to be true, and I want you to believe it too. Query with abandon and while you do, write your next novel and then your next. Both of my full requests happened when I least expected them. It was a sweet surprise, and you will have those exciting moments on your climb too- those moments that feel like someone is reaching back and saying, “Here, take my hand.” Lower your expectations, but DEFINITELY keep climbing. Which leads us to the third and most important lesson of all... Never give up. My Grandad taught me this lesson. One of his favorite movies was an old one starring John Wayne called “True Grit.” Grit means courage and determination, and Grandad wanted me to have those qualities. He knew it was a hard world. Once, when I was around ten, we went horseback riding together. The ground was muddy from a recent rain, and my horse slipped. I landed on the ground hard, and it affected my vision and hearing. Grandad told me to sit with my head down between my knees, something that he did in the army when he got hurt boxing. A few minutes later, he told me to get back up in the saddle and ride. So I did. And there have been countless times in my life when I’ve been thankful to have learned that lesson when I might have given up or given in otherwise. I’ve definitely put it into practice with my writing, and I hope you will, too. You must hang tough and go for grit. Did you get a rejection? Send out another query! Revise your manuscript again if you feel like you can make it better. If you love writing, if being published is one of your goals, then keep going. Write another novel, and then another, until you hold your published book in your hands. When you fall hard, get back up in the saddle and ride. I believe in you. I believe in us, because we’re all in this together. We’re a great big family of writers rooting for each other, and we have faith and perseverance. And grit. Love, Stac |
RSS Feed
Proudly powered by Weebly
