Thursday, March 29, 2007
Serials and Scenarios - Reclaiming Nick
The book:http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/141431017X
The Author: www.susanmaywarren.com
The Review:
Susan May Warren excels in writing men. I didn't warm up to her main heroine until several chapters into the book, but Nick grabbed me right away.
Warren has a way with words. Bursts of beautiful prose fill "Reclaiming Nick."
Tragedy marks each major character, and as I read, I began to root for them, hoping they'd find what they needed.
A touch of mystery added to the read. Enough detail was provided that the conclusion didn't shock me, so those of you who don't do well with intense suspense should be able to read it with ease.
The underlying spiritual themes of redemption, forgiveness and God's sovereignty were thoughtfully written. Christianese was not overdone, but the spiritual truths were strong.
The relationships covered in the book were handled well, also. "Reclaiming Nick" didn't feel sitcom surreal (perfect resolution in seventeen and a half minutes.)
Warren stuck to her genre guidelines and crafted mostly believable, almost real characters. I will finish the series.
The interview: Come back tomorrow.
The Author: www.susanmaywarren.com
The Review:
Susan May Warren excels in writing men. I didn't warm up to her main heroine until several chapters into the book, but Nick grabbed me right away.
Warren has a way with words. Bursts of beautiful prose fill "Reclaiming Nick."
Tragedy marks each major character, and as I read, I began to root for them, hoping they'd find what they needed.
A touch of mystery added to the read. Enough detail was provided that the conclusion didn't shock me, so those of you who don't do well with intense suspense should be able to read it with ease.
The underlying spiritual themes of redemption, forgiveness and God's sovereignty were thoughtfully written. Christianese was not overdone, but the spiritual truths were strong.
The relationships covered in the book were handled well, also. "Reclaiming Nick" didn't feel sitcom surreal (perfect resolution in seventeen and a half minutes.)
Warren stuck to her genre guidelines and crafted mostly believable, almost real characters. I will finish the series.
The interview: Come back tomorrow.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Scribbles and Scrambles - Groundhog Spotted in Macarthur Park
I have a ground hog person in my life.
No, this person is not a rodent, nor does this person predict the weather.
Rather, life for him/her is like Bill Murray’s “Groundhog Day.” But instead of the actual events repeating daily, it’s kind of an emotional/mental mind flush thing.
Confused yet?
Me too.
Seriously.
This individual wakes up with a clean slate each morning. Based on the behavior and choices I witness, this really potentialful and great person apparently thinks that consequences, good and bad, disappear overnight.
Granted, God’s mercies are new every morning, but my actions yesterday pretty much determine many of the obstacles I face today. The whole “charge it!” shop-a-thon coming back to bite me during the next billing cycle nightmare. Or, if I leave the cake out in the rain, I may never find the recipe again.
While you’re pondering that, ponder this.
How does one go through life not getting this monumental truth?
I’m completely confused.
Is there a chemical process that erases the concept of cause and effect?
Do “aha! Eureka! I’ve got it!” brain cells die at different rates in different people?
Is this a personality type that I’ve not been up close and personal with before?
If you’ve got answers, I need them. Talk to me!
I could use a bit of help with Macarthur Park, too.
No, this person is not a rodent, nor does this person predict the weather.
Rather, life for him/her is like Bill Murray’s “Groundhog Day.” But instead of the actual events repeating daily, it’s kind of an emotional/mental mind flush thing.
Confused yet?
Me too.
Seriously.
This individual wakes up with a clean slate each morning. Based on the behavior and choices I witness, this really potentialful and great person apparently thinks that consequences, good and bad, disappear overnight.
Granted, God’s mercies are new every morning, but my actions yesterday pretty much determine many of the obstacles I face today. The whole “charge it!” shop-a-thon coming back to bite me during the next billing cycle nightmare. Or, if I leave the cake out in the rain, I may never find the recipe again.
While you’re pondering that, ponder this.
How does one go through life not getting this monumental truth?
I’m completely confused.
Is there a chemical process that erases the concept of cause and effect?
Do “aha! Eureka! I’ve got it!” brain cells die at different rates in different people?
Is this a personality type that I’ve not been up close and personal with before?
If you’ve got answers, I need them. Talk to me!
I could use a bit of help with Macarthur Park, too.
Monday, March 26, 2007
Scribbles and Scrambles - Babies Are Agile
My family may be really odd, but…. Oh, wait. We ARE really odd.
For just a split-second, I forgot we capitalize the fun in dysFUNction.
One of our favorite family things would be inside jokes.
I knew my daughter-in-law would fit right in the day she doubled over in laughter while standing in front of our refrigerator.
This is a little twisted -- but bear with me. Our son. The eldest offspring carrying the banner of odd, found magnets amusing. Oh, not the poetry magnets…those would’ve gotten buried on our fridge.
Our community believes in information fairs that provide a plethora of pertinent magnets. Somehow, somewhere I picked up a magnet from a shaken baby syndrome task force. The white magnet read “Babies are Fragile.” Nice sentiment, all too true, wonderful public service.
But one day my son asked. “Mom, what does it mean that babies are agile?” (I won’t tell you how old he was.) Annoyed, (which I often was when my very intelligent, old-teen kid asked me nutty questions) I glanced at the magnet.
Someone had used White-Out on the fr. Mr. Comedian laughed it up, I shook my head, but smiled inside. Every once in awhile, his sister or father would clean off the White-Out, bringing it back to fragile.
Then the fr would disappear again.
So, the girl who loves my son, asked about the magnet. I told her the story. She laughed. They got married. And we talk about agile babies every once in awhile.
Words that bring a flood of memories and a laugh or two include:
Coco-nutty Day
Sea biscuits
Chee chago
Coinkydink
Sticky Buns
Johnny Cat
The list goes on and on.
Now that I think about it. My brothers and I still laugh about “You’re bending my glasses.”
Did I mention we were odd?
For just a split-second, I forgot we capitalize the fun in dysFUNction.
One of our favorite family things would be inside jokes.
I knew my daughter-in-law would fit right in the day she doubled over in laughter while standing in front of our refrigerator.
This is a little twisted -- but bear with me. Our son. The eldest offspring carrying the banner of odd, found magnets amusing. Oh, not the poetry magnets…those would’ve gotten buried on our fridge.
Our community believes in information fairs that provide a plethora of pertinent magnets. Somehow, somewhere I picked up a magnet from a shaken baby syndrome task force. The white magnet read “Babies are Fragile.” Nice sentiment, all too true, wonderful public service.
But one day my son asked. “Mom, what does it mean that babies are agile?” (I won’t tell you how old he was.) Annoyed, (which I often was when my very intelligent, old-teen kid asked me nutty questions) I glanced at the magnet.
Someone had used White-Out on the fr. Mr. Comedian laughed it up, I shook my head, but smiled inside. Every once in awhile, his sister or father would clean off the White-Out, bringing it back to fragile.
Then the fr would disappear again.
So, the girl who loves my son, asked about the magnet. I told her the story. She laughed. They got married. And we talk about agile babies every once in awhile.
Words that bring a flood of memories and a laugh or two include:
Coco-nutty Day
Sea biscuits
Chee chago
Coinkydink
Sticky Buns
Johnny Cat
The list goes on and on.
Now that I think about it. My brothers and I still laugh about “You’re bending my glasses.”
Did I mention we were odd?
Friday, March 23, 2007
Scribbles and Scrambles - Don't Get Out Much...
Do you ever realize that your memories are not exactly reality?
Or that there are reasons that you may not be invited back to a moderately fancy restaurant?
My eldest daughter and a few of her friends invited me out for a nice dinner.
Their first mistake. I’d been to the restaurant before, so I didn’t turn them down.
This place has the most amazing bread. Kind of a do-it-yourself garlic bread bar at every table. Garlic infused olive oil (EVOO for you Rachel Ray fans), chopped tomatoes, real parmesan cheese (that’s right! Not the stuff from the can – do we know how to pick a classy place or what?) And the very best part… roasted garlic cloves that you use like butter, smearing the yummy contents across your bread.
I told the girls that I thought we could all eat for around $10.00 a plate.
Did I mention that I hadn’t been to that particular restaurant in ten years or so?
The food, yummy as I remember. The price? Well a whole lot different.
So $20.00 a person later, we realized there might be a reason they put us by the kitchen.
They, over the delicious aromas, smelled trouble.
We didn’t lack for water refills (none of us could afford pop) nor did we lack for hilarity.
From movie line quotes meeting with a mis-swallowed gulp of water, to excessive spillage, we had a great time. I’m sure the patrons around us thought maybe we’d just fallen off a farm truck when we enthused about the mouthwash dispenser.
Ah yeah, we had fun. Laughed til we hurt, and ate until we nearly burst. Good thing, we won’t be able to afford another night out for a long time.
Or that there are reasons that you may not be invited back to a moderately fancy restaurant?
My eldest daughter and a few of her friends invited me out for a nice dinner.
Their first mistake. I’d been to the restaurant before, so I didn’t turn them down.
This place has the most amazing bread. Kind of a do-it-yourself garlic bread bar at every table. Garlic infused olive oil (EVOO for you Rachel Ray fans), chopped tomatoes, real parmesan cheese (that’s right! Not the stuff from the can – do we know how to pick a classy place or what?) And the very best part… roasted garlic cloves that you use like butter, smearing the yummy contents across your bread.
I told the girls that I thought we could all eat for around $10.00 a plate.
Did I mention that I hadn’t been to that particular restaurant in ten years or so?
The food, yummy as I remember. The price? Well a whole lot different.
So $20.00 a person later, we realized there might be a reason they put us by the kitchen.
They, over the delicious aromas, smelled trouble.
We didn’t lack for water refills (none of us could afford pop) nor did we lack for hilarity.
From movie line quotes meeting with a mis-swallowed gulp of water, to excessive spillage, we had a great time. I’m sure the patrons around us thought maybe we’d just fallen off a farm truck when we enthused about the mouthwash dispenser.
Ah yeah, we had fun. Laughed til we hurt, and ate until we nearly burst. Good thing, we won’t be able to afford another night out for a long time.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Scribbles and Scrambles - Yikes!
I'm visiting Nanny-land today.
Something a little scary occurred to me over our lunch.
It took a minute to sink in amidst the whine of activity.
No, my revelation wasn't that I required my daughter to cut my pizza into bite size pieces, thank you very much.
While the three-year-old related a story she raised her chubby little fingers over her head and made air quotation marks.
This shouldn't shock me considering I know both her mother and her nanny, but the fact that I've never seen a three-year-old quite pull this sly and smooth movement off made me stop and think.
We are such products of our environment. Both where we are forced to live, and where we choose to live (physically, emotionally, spiritually, mentally.)
To bring it even closer to home, people are watching us and catching our attitudes and quirks.
Nanny has been shaped by me, forever scarred, and is passing my influence along to the next generation. As amusing as that is, the good stuff anyway, I cringe when I realize that some of my not so wonderful attitudes have been passed to my children as well.
What if we all made a few promises to ourselves.
That I will stop and think before I act.
I will act as if I want to bless others.
I'll "try." How about you?
Something a little scary occurred to me over our lunch.
It took a minute to sink in amidst the whine of activity.
No, my revelation wasn't that I required my daughter to cut my pizza into bite size pieces, thank you very much.
While the three-year-old related a story she raised her chubby little fingers over her head and made air quotation marks.
This shouldn't shock me considering I know both her mother and her nanny, but the fact that I've never seen a three-year-old quite pull this sly and smooth movement off made me stop and think.
We are such products of our environment. Both where we are forced to live, and where we choose to live (physically, emotionally, spiritually, mentally.)
To bring it even closer to home, people are watching us and catching our attitudes and quirks.
Nanny has been shaped by me, forever scarred, and is passing my influence along to the next generation. As amusing as that is, the good stuff anyway, I cringe when I realize that some of my not so wonderful attitudes have been passed to my children as well.
What if we all made a few promises to ourselves.
That I will stop and think before I act.
I will act as if I want to bless others.
I'll "try." How about you?
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Scribbles and Scrambles - I Told You That!
Do you struggle with remembering things?
I do. Sometimes it borders on scary. My husband and I have this game we play; we affectionately refer to it as, “I told you that!”
Apparently, we both have rich conversations with each other -- in our heads. Our mouths don’t get engaged nearly as often. I’ll discover something critical, like, he’s going out of town tomorrow, purely by some backhanded comment.
His eyebrows jump, and he grows a sheepish grin. “I told you. Didn’t I?” He really thinks he did, too.
But I do the same to him, and it’s slightly possible I also hear him without actually listening to what he just said. My oldest daughter often says, “You just asked me that question.” Oops! Note to self…listen to the answer.
During Sunday’s sermon, my pastor used the illustration of a group of life-roughened men who lived in a shelter near my pastor’s college. Every Friday night, a group of ministry students put on a small church service. The residents of the shelter were fresh off the streets. And they dragged their dysfunction to church with them. Every Friday the residents got to choose a song. Every Friday they chose “Victory in Jesus.”
This group of addicted, worn-down, beat-up men was anything but victorious. Why that song? Why not “Jesus Loves Me?” I’d find more comfort in that if I wore their shoes. “Amazing Grace” now that’s a song to celebrate.
Maybe, prophetically, they wanted to sing about what could be, someday.
I think the choice in song ties into memory. As great as the other songs are, I want to believe that no matter how pathetic I am right now, I actually have Jesus, the King of kings, working in my life, fixing, changing, breaking and winning.
The prophet Samuel set up an Ebenezer stone for the Israelites to remind them that God had been with them right up until that point, and that He hadn’t gone anywhere. I think “Victory in Jesus” became an Ebenezer stone for those shelter residents. Jesus promised, Jesus did it, and Jesus is going to finish it.
So, if you forget everything else today, remember that if you have Jesus, then you have victory in Him.
Oh, and that you need to be fully dressed if you go out in public.
I do. Sometimes it borders on scary. My husband and I have this game we play; we affectionately refer to it as, “I told you that!”
Apparently, we both have rich conversations with each other -- in our heads. Our mouths don’t get engaged nearly as often. I’ll discover something critical, like, he’s going out of town tomorrow, purely by some backhanded comment.
His eyebrows jump, and he grows a sheepish grin. “I told you. Didn’t I?” He really thinks he did, too.
But I do the same to him, and it’s slightly possible I also hear him without actually listening to what he just said. My oldest daughter often says, “You just asked me that question.” Oops! Note to self…listen to the answer.
During Sunday’s sermon, my pastor used the illustration of a group of life-roughened men who lived in a shelter near my pastor’s college. Every Friday night, a group of ministry students put on a small church service. The residents of the shelter were fresh off the streets. And they dragged their dysfunction to church with them. Every Friday the residents got to choose a song. Every Friday they chose “Victory in Jesus.”
This group of addicted, worn-down, beat-up men was anything but victorious. Why that song? Why not “Jesus Loves Me?” I’d find more comfort in that if I wore their shoes. “Amazing Grace” now that’s a song to celebrate.
Maybe, prophetically, they wanted to sing about what could be, someday.
I think the choice in song ties into memory. As great as the other songs are, I want to believe that no matter how pathetic I am right now, I actually have Jesus, the King of kings, working in my life, fixing, changing, breaking and winning.
The prophet Samuel set up an Ebenezer stone for the Israelites to remind them that God had been with them right up until that point, and that He hadn’t gone anywhere. I think “Victory in Jesus” became an Ebenezer stone for those shelter residents. Jesus promised, Jesus did it, and Jesus is going to finish it.
So, if you forget everything else today, remember that if you have Jesus, then you have victory in Him.
Oh, and that you need to be fully dressed if you go out in public.
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