Serials and Scenarios – Mary DeMuth's Perfect Mix-Up Author/Book

Hello all. I promised to mix things up now and again. Today I begin the process of sharing some non-interview questions and answers.



First, I'll introduce Mary. Mary makes this blog international. I'm going to use that term quite a bit. I believe it will end up being ad nauseum, but we’ll see.


Mary lives in France. I took three years of French in high school. I considered myself pretty multicultural. But one day, while I sorted clothes in the store where I was gainfully employed, two ladies wandered in. One lady mentioned the other was visiting from France and needed some shorts. I steered her to the spot where we corralled the shorts, and the French speaking woman asked me a question. In French. The language I studied for three years. I'm sure I played the Stupid Americano part well. I shrugged and hemmed and hawed. She made a few more beautiful sounding comments that were probably hideous insults, and I didn't understand a word. Finally, she found a pair that worked for her, and I rang her up. As I closed the register drawer, something came to me, a word, a French word. I stood a little taller and blurted, "Merci!"

The laughter filled the store and rang through the mall. An hour later, I would have sworn I still heard it. So needless to say, it thrills me to have Mary make me international. I just hope she won't ask me to speak French.

Okay – on with the program of the day…… the non-interview questions explanation.
I thought and thought and thought some more until a few odd questions or story starter sentences eked out and popped up on my computer screen.

Then I shared those questions/sentences with some writer buddies and acquaintances who said they’d play along. My question will be in red and italics, the answer in bold blue.

Perfect compilation author. Title of the best-selling novel? A tag line, too?
My example:

Author: Stephen Grisham
Book Title: "So Sue It."
Back Cover Grabber: No one recognized him, but he knew them all - every wart and blemish. Class-action in reverse, time for the settlement.

-------------Mary's Great Mix-it-up Novel Idea ----------------
Author: Jan Crichton.
Book Title: A Pox on Mitford.
Back Cover Grabber: Father Tim has a secret he’s told no one. He’s created a deadly weapons-grade virus—and his first victims? Mitford citizens.


Mary E. DeMuth
Christ Follower. Novelist. Freelance Writer.
Author: Building the Christian Family You Never Had
and Watching the Tree Limbs: A Novel
Blog. Website.



Bio:

Mary E. DeMuth has been crafting prose since 1992, first as a newsletter editor, then as a freelance writer, followed by a fiction and nonfiction author. Mary’s articles have appeared in Marriage Partnership, In Touch, HomeLife, Discipleship Journal, Pray!, Bon Appetit, Kindred Spirit, P31 Woman, and Hearts at Home. For two years she penned a lifestyle column for Star Community Newspapers in Dallas (circulation 100,000). Mary’s books include Ordinary Mom, Extraordinary God (Harvest House, 2005), Sister Freaks (Time Warner, 2005, one of four contributing authors, Editor Rebecca St. James), Building the Christian Family You Never Had (WaterBrook, 2006), Watching the Tree Limbs, and Wishing on Dandelions (NavPress, both novels releasing in 2006). In 2003, she won the Mount Hermon Christian Writers Conference’s Pacesetter Award. Mary loves to speak about the art and craft of writing as well as the redemptive hand of God in impossible situations. She’s spoken in Munich, Vienna, Amsterdam, Portland, Dallas, Seattle, Florence, Monaco and San Jose. A thirty-nine-year-old mother of three, Mary lives with her husband Patrick in the South of France. Together with two other families, they are planting a church.

Snippets and Sound Bites – Slick Lessons Learned

While I was Greasy…10 Life Lessons and a Bonus.

Most mistakes are not fatal. And life does not come to a screeching halt when you do something stupid.

Laughter is great for the soul.

Unless you attract flies or bright lights, chances are, most people won’t notice your flaws right away.

A sincere smile draws attention away from flaws. Unless your mouth is a faux pas factory – then you might want to work up another trick.

When people laugh at you, you can join them, or find a corner to pout in. And if you hide in a corner, or in a dark room, or with a bag over your head, you miss stuff.

Attitude is sometimes the only control factor you own.

If fear of failure, or ridicule, or love rules your life you miss out on the sweetness of living.

People vs. situations will almost always have unique outcomes.

Just because one person found success, doesn’t mean you’ll find it in the same place, and that’s okay…because….perseverance pays off.

Lemonade is made from lemons under pressure with lots of added sweetening.

Life is a learning process. Only those willing to learn have something worth teaching.

Scary and Sensational - Weird Meme

Happy Monday.

Today you have to “listen” to seven weird things about me. Like you haven’t figured out at least seven weird things from what I’ve already posted.

I’ve been “Weird Meme’d” Thanks, Heather. You can reach Heather at http://heathersfunnythoughts.blogspot.com/ should you decide to complain about having to WAIT ONE MORE DAY for the gleaned wisdom from “while I was greasy.”

7. I once believed that the “powers that be” voted to change east and west so that the sun rose in the west and set in the east. My defense – I was 15, it was 4:45 a.m. and the cutest boy in the whole world lied to me. And I still married him!

6. The above little moment of gullibility lasted a fairly long time – like a couple of months. Hey, I was young, in love and it was stinking early.

5. I can pick up things with my toes. Yes, it’s true. I once gathered loose papers, shuffled them and stapled them together – with my toes. (No the toes were NOT stapled to the papers.)

4. I once cracked my collar bone by landing really hard on my rear end. (Oooh, that’s a good story, I’ll have to share it some time.)

3. My first book was self-published. I was five at the time. The title – Lousy, the Cat – written about my cat - Lucy. Spelling was not a strength.

2. Speaking of Kindergarten…. The lovely place where I discovered that yellow was not pronounced “wello”.

1. Speaking of spelling. College level “Spelling and Proofreading” made me a worse speller.

There you have it… I guess I’m supposed to plague others with the “Weird Meme Virus.” I plan to be very selective. Hmmmm...

Scary and Sensational - Sonrise

What was it like on a Friday in Jerusalem almost 2,000 years ago?

Did the scent of budding and blooming life mingle with the metallic tang of His blood?

Was the air filled with the songs of birds before the darkness enveloped the city?

Ironic - the Creator allowed His creation to use His raw materials to crucify Him.

He stayed on the cross, held by puny metal nails.

Did the angels hover by the throne of the Almighty, begging with their eyes, hoping for a sign or a word that would release them to help Him?

The earth quaked.

Did the doves mourn?

What was it like for the Light of the world to have been cut off from the blinding Light of His Father's face?

The source of Life's life slowly, painfully ebbed away with each pump of His strangled heart.

The Wonderful Counselor was alone. No one to share His grief, or hold His head or hand and whisper, "there, there."

He did this for a small handful of worthless creatures who would choose to love Him.

He died my death, that day on the cross.

Then came Sunday morning.........and the rising of the Son.

He called me out of the darkness, and calls me His bride.

Maranatha.

Scribbles and Scrambles - Bad Idea - Part 4

Not only did I have to go to work on Slick Thursday, but I had two other must-dos. My writing support group meeting and a trip to the mall to pick up my daughter's engraved graduation locket couldn't be missed.

I pulled my greasy Medusa locks into a messy ponytail. Copped a little swagger, and projected the "I meant to do that" attitude and I hurried to the jewelry store.

I don't know if it was the glare from the overheads that caught everyone's eye, or if it was the eau du salad wafting behind me, but I pretty much had everyone's attention. Did I mention that I had begun rinsing with vinegar after each futile shampoo post cornstarch dump?

With my prized locket clutched in my hand, I hurried to the car and braced myself for one last frontier.

We meet in the coffee shop of a large Christian bookstore. Had this Vaseline incident happened today, I'd share it with the group and we'd have a good laugh, and talk about the stories that could come out of it.

But this particular meeting was only my fourth, ever. Published, intimidating authors populated the group.

I arrived fashionably late and slide into an open chair. All eyes fastened on me. I froze and eked out a tiny princess wave.

No one asked, though subtle sniffs seemed to come from my writer friends as they walked past my chair. And I caught many odd glances, but I didn't say a word.

Survival strengthened me.

On Friday, my locks still squirmed like Medusa's on a bad hair day. Shirlee breezed in with a perfect coif and a giggle. I hummed "I Will Survive."

By Sunday, the surface of my hair was dry to the touch. A week later it shone and luxuriated around my shoulders.

The benefits lasted about two days, then I had to pay for the harsh treatment.

Come back next week and I'll share what I learned while I was greasy.

Scribbles and Scrambles – Bad Idea – Part 3

After my shower and approximately six lather/rinse/repeat cycles later, I stared into the mirror. All alone and with loads of hindsight, the activities of the evening seemed slightly less fun and slightly more foolish. I plopped my hat on my head, which was as greasy as it had been prior to using half a bottle of shampoo.

Maybe the body heat or the hat would leech the petroleum from my hair. Yeah. Sure.

I slept. A dreamless, restless never-want-to-see-daylight-again kind of sleep.

No fairy or angelic visitations in the night. No lovely people from one of those wonderful organizations that clean up oil drenched helpless animals after oceanic oil spills came to my rescue either.

When I woke, I slid the hat from my head and touched it. Songs of self-pity played in my mind as I trudged to the bathroom. “nobody likes me….blah, blah, I guess I’ll go eat worms.”

It didn’t matter that I wasn’t in Jr. High anymore, nope, there was just enough teen spirit in my office to guarantee that all would get a charge out of this.

I scrubbed yet again; three times just on the outside chance, got dressed without looking into a mirror, and headed to work.

I fooled them the first couple of hours. But about ten o’clock co-workers began wondering out loud why my hair still looked dripping wet. I told a few of the more sympathetic ones. Then Shirlee called in and inquired about my hair. The laughter rang through the office.

One of the doctors took pity on me. He Googled Vaseline and hair and came up with a sure-fire cure. Cornstarch. Hope!

At first I was leery. After all, this same doctor was prone to pranking. But I Googled too, and behold, there it was. I rushed home, grabbed the box of cornstarch and ran to the bathroom. Whoosh! Instant powdered wig, hardening into a hairstyle that rivaled any big hair ever to parade across a television screen.

Yes, more tomorrow.

Scribbles and Scrambles – Bad Idea – Part 2

Location: 5th and 6th grade Wednesday evening Pioneer Clubs.

Shirlee and I are ready to make synchronized swimming history. I mentioned yesterday that we had pooh-poohed the water/swimsuit thing, and the standard Knox gelatin hair control. Instead we would perform our routine clothed, dry, and with Vaseline sculpted hair.

Nervous, as most athletes before a big event, Shirlee and I paced the room. We had the full attention of the kids while we explained a bit about the history of synchronized swimming.

Then it was time to perform.

Shirlee grabbed the container of Vaseline and smeared a glob into her hair. You could hear a pin drop. She held it out to me. I scooped and swirled.

Did I mention that my hair is longer than Shirlee’s? Or coarser and curly?

Within a minute, tops, Shirlee had an excellent greased upsweep, while I had wrestled my mane into a rope-like chunk of hairy goo. I should have known. Shirlee took pity on me, scooped out more Vaseline and coaxed a Who-like do.

We performed our routine with a forced encore (they didn’t ask for it, we made them sit through the slow-motion replay). A smattering of applause, lots of laughter, whew it was a success. I slapped a hat on my head.

Visions of nicely conditioned hair bounced through my brain while I planned on a quick wash out at 9:15 p.m.

Did I mention that Shirlee and I work together and that she had Thursday off?

Tune in tomorrow for the rest of the story……