Scribble and Scrambles - Now I Get It.

I finally get it.

I'm embarrassed to admit that I've never been able to grasp the significance of the whole groundhog seeing it's shadow thing. Does seeing the shadow mean more winter or less?

My father, the infamous Pat, explained it to me. Upon seeing his shadow Punxsutawney Phil runs back into his hole knowing it is still winter and will be for awhile yet. He doesn't like the idea of more winter. Clever groundhog, I say, since the Pennsylvania winters are not at all pleasant.

For more amazing Groundhog facts here's the wikipedia link.

Now, if I could just figure out the reason behind the plot of Groundhog Day.

Scribble and Scrambles - Numbers Game

For eleven years I've voiced a variation of the following instruction on average of eight times every work day. "Take a normal breath. In and out. (pause) Now take a deep breath in and hold it."

So today, as a lady hugged my x-ray box, I said, "Take a number."

Where did that come from? Not only did I not return anything to a customer service department this weekend, I didn't even shop. I watched two movies. Neither of which had anything to do with taking a number.

At least I could laugh about it. I think she laughed, too. But she seemed rather eager to escape when I finally opened the door and offered her freedom.

Suppose it was a Freudian slip? Maybe I'm supposed to quit my job, go back to school, and become a mathematician.

That's even funnier than the verbal faux pas. In order to grasp my radiation algebra, I needed to borrow my then 8th graders' math book, and I still didn't understand what I was doing. So that theory is a sad one.

Maybe I'm supposed to go to Vegas. You know, numbers. While I'm living out the numbers dream I could be an Elvis impersonator. With lots of gel I could pull of the do and I know I can do a lip curl.

Hmmm. Any of you live in Vegas? Lookin for a roomie (or roomies -- who knows how many family members will embrace my new dream)?

Serials and Scenarios - Pure Julie Lessman

Julie Lessman dropped by the Dregs for a cup o' cyber tea.

Q: Fiction character you would most like to be or most identify with and why?

Omigosh—Scarlett O’Hara, hands-down! Why? Because I first read Gone With the Wind at the age of twelve and was so swept away by the romantic tension between Scarlett and Rhett, that I actually wrote 150 single-spaced pages of what today is my debut novel, A Passion Most Pure. Scarlett was not exactly a role model, I know, but I loved her strength, her confidence, her inability to be false or phony … and I especially loved the pull she had over Rhett whether he liked it or not. That’s what true romance is—a man who will cherish you and love you no matter your failings.

Q: Do any of your characters reflect your own personality?

Yes, there’s a part of my personality in each of the three sisters in the Daughters of Boston series. I like to think of Faith, the sister heroine of A Passion Most Pure, as my spiritual self. She has an intimate relationship with God just like me—she talks and prays to Him as if He is her best friend, but she gets angry with Him too. I like to refer to it as being emotionally engaged with the God of the Universe—we laugh with Him, tear up at His goodness to us, and worship Him with all of our hearts. In fact, Faith and I are SO much alike in the spiritual aspect, that a good friend of mine told me that reading A Passion Most Pure was “like going to lunch with me.” I’m hoping that’s a good thing!

Charity, the sister heroine of Book 2, is my rebellious and “passionate” self, before I came to the Lord. I was a wild child of the seventies, like so many of us before Jesus got a hold of us (as he does Charity in Book 2)!

Lizzie (or Beth), the sister heroine of Book 3 is my dreamer self. Lizzie is a bookworm bent on fairytale romance, just like I used to be as a little girl, sneaking downstairs to watch romantic movies after my parents went to bed. In her story, Lizzie has to learn (just like I did) that true romance, the kind that really satisfies, comes from following God’s precepts, not the world’s.

Q: Some out there in writing land have strange rituals. Share yours.

Well, maybe not “strange,” but definitely a bit quirky. My artist husband and work in the same small computer room, so most of the time, we are back to back, which is kind of nice because I like to lean back and kiss him after I put lip gloss on, which is OFTEN! That would definitely qualify as one of my quirks—lipstick and lip gloss. I wear it everywhere, even to bed (the lip gloss, I mean). Also, I always have a candle lit next to a favorite picture of my husband and me before we were married and I like to turn the lights down real low. How’s that for romantic inspiration?

Q: What makes you feel alive?

Well, when I was a little girl, sticking my head out of the window of a moving car used to make me feel incredibly charged and alive. Now that I’m … well, NOT a little girl any longer … it’s God’s goodness and His blessings that leave me breathless. Just having God at the center of my life—in my marriage, in my children’s lives, in my career as a writer—makes me more alive than I EVER was without Him.

Q: Favorite season and why?

Spring because I love the redbud trees and tulips and the faint haze of green in the trees as new buds burgeon forth. No, wait—summer because I like to lay out in my driveway slathered in Coppertone and listening to oldies. Well … maybe fall because I love the smell of wood fires in the crisp air as gold and scarlet leaves flutter to the ground. Okay, no, definitely winter, because there’s nothing better than being snowed in and cuddling up with my honey in front of a fire with an old movie or a great book. I like ‘em all, I guess, what can I say?

Q: Which compliment related to your writing has meant the most and why?

I love hearing that the romantic scenes are deeply moving and emotionally tense, but I have to say that the first compliments that really impacted me were when two separate women told me that A Passion Most Pure made them feel both closer to God and want to be a better person. No higher compliment could be paid an inspirational author.

Q: Favorite chore:

Believe it or not, I LOVE making revisions—my editor’s or revisions in general. I write my books to please women like ME who love romantic tension and lots of true-to-life romance, so I enjoy reading my own novels because basically I am the market I am writing for. So making any revisions—ones I’m happy with or ones I’m not—is fun, challenging and exciting for me to do. (Okay, I know that’s probably not normal, is it???)

Q: Societal pet peeve … sound off.

Oh, my goodness—discourtesy, hand’s down!! I DESPISE hurting people’s feelings and hate it even more when I see other’s do it. Life is hard enough—we don’t need the verbal abuse or discourtesy of others. It’s amazing how one kind word or gesture from the heart can be balm to someone’s hurting soul.

Q: Grammatical pet peeve … sound off.

I’m a travel writer in my day job, and it drives me CRAZY having so many variations in what’s grammatically correct or not. For instance, one client prefers no commas before the conjunction in a simple series, while another wants them. Groan!! And the word “Web site” … for pete’s sake, let’s go with one spelling, shall we? Merriam Webster shows it as two words and says it’s a capital “W” when referring to the World Wide Web, while other dictionaries show it as “website,” “web site” or “Website.” Can’t we just all agree and get along??

Thank you, Kelly, for having me as your guest—it’s been fun! But of course. And thank you, Julie.

Scribble and Scrambles - Big Words....

I left a snarky comment on another blog on Monday.

It was supposed to be tongue-in-cheek and witty. In my eyes it was, but the author of the post has yet to respond. I may need to apologize.

Here's my issue...the dealio...my beef.

Said column was about writing rules. You all know that I'm not a rule snob, and I fall closer to inhabiting the realm-of-remediality-of-rule-knowledge. Good grief, I won't submit anything without running it past my comma-buddy.

As I read the blog post about knowing the rules to break the rules, and story being king etc., I agreed with several nods and an occasional smile. He was absolutely right. Some people get published and they are nothing but rule breakers who can tell a stinking good story.

The writer of the post has an awesome vocabulary. I don't think mine stinks by any means, but I find myself wanting to be understood rather than misunderstood, and I'm becoming more aware that huge vocabularies sometimes intimidate. Sometimes flinging multi syllabic words around is just annoying too.

We all know the unfortunate beings that love hefty words and then use them inappropriately. The poor malaprop victims who confuse the meaning of interrogate with interpret. I try to avoid this unless I'm going for a laugh.

The blog post continued with a two or three paragraph quote from a book on the subject of writing rules. I made it through, just barely, then I laughed. I understood everything he said but I felt like I'd sat through a college level lecture. I wondered if there would next be a quiz on symbolism.

So I posted a comment about loving multi syllabic sarcasm and that I laughed at his example and had the urge to tell the guy to "just say it not spray it."

What do you think? Does great writing have to break rules? Does it need to have an element of pretension? Is it author intrusion when a writer writes to "teach" or "better" his readers? Do I need to apologize?

Serials and Scenarios - A Passion Most Pure

Visit Julie Lessman.

My Review:

Julie Lessman has written a novel that smacks of history but could almost occur in modern times. In it are the classic elements of love- unrequited and shared, betrayal, lust, sibling rivalry, loss, war, sorrow and elation.

Even though I guessed correctly at the way a few scenarios played out, I didn't find out if I was right until the last few pages. This is a long novel and it covers stretches of time. I found myself liking a character and then developing issues with said character and not liking him/her so much after all, only to come back around to understanding and accepting the character's issues. Which is a really good indicator that Lessman's characters are complex enough to suck you into their world.
Passion is a little steamier than a lot of Christian romances, so I wouldn't classify it as a romance. The historical crowd will likely have issues with the modern speech. However, some who won't read historical because of the more stilted style may jump on Passion and devour it.

Scribble and Scrambles - Weather or NOT

Yesterday, in Iowa, during January, we hit 50ish degrees.

Almost balmy, I tell ya.

Today I breezed out of the house without my coat because it was 50 yesterday.

Ha.

Today is a different story, try minus nine wind chill, actual temp two degrees.

We did have a fifty - something -- fifty mile an hour winds delivering flash frozen snowflakes.

You know I'm a fan of flakes. But I've decided I prefer mine when I'm hunkered down in the cozy couch with my hands wrapped around a warm mug of coffee or tea. Up close and personal pelting, also know as snowblasting, kind of takes the awe and excitement out of snowflakes.

Stay warm.

Scribble and Scrambles - Convicted

I think I'm borderline complacent. Not quite apathetic because my complacency bothers me, but sometimes I think I wouldn't mind sitting this round out, or a few rounds, or maybe even all of the future rounds.

But, like God is prone to do, He's been delivering sermons to convict me.

The theme of late seems to be, in so many words, "do I care if people find Jesus?"

This is a tough one. Of course I care. I love my friends and family. I don't want anyone to choose death over life. I care about strangers and acquaintances, about patients and check-out girls. I've been conditioned to believe that all people have the evidence and experience they need to find Jesus, and that I don't necessarily need to provide any more. That if I get too vocal I'll just do more harm than good. That if I just live my life and answer questions that might be asked of me, this is enough.

But is that true?

I'm not a preacher, but I'm an ambassador. I'm not a theologian, but I carry truth within me. I want to leak that truth, but I don't want to hurt or judge people.

Can I tell you why Jesus means more than the world to me? If you don't want to keep reading, don't. I'm not going to preach regularly. And as far as I know I'm talking to the choir. (Those who agree with me and know Him, too.) But maybe I need to write this in case someone stumbles into this post and needs to "hear" what I have to say.

I believe in Jesus, I love Jesus, I've given my life to Him because I have seen and still see His power at work in my life. I know people quibble about His "Godness." Most will claim that He was a good man, a good teacher, a good example. Some will think that He was secretly married, or didn't actually die, or didn't come back from the grave. Lots think He sinned like any body else but the good outweighed the bad and that we should "do unto others as we would have them do unto us" and live like we are at least trying to reach for His example.

I know lots of people accept God and label all belief as toward one big God with many names. But loads of people have trouble with the narrowness of teaching that Jesus is the way, the truth and the life.

I love C.S. Lewis' comments. (my paraphrase, not a quote) Jesus is either Lord, a liar or a lunatic. Jesus claimed to be God which is the major reason He was crucified. He spoke "blasphemy" by claiming to be "I AM", the eternal, powerful and unspeakable God of Genesis. Lewis' point -- since Jesus made this claim, more than once, He put a hot potato in our hands. He either is who He says He is, or He is a liar. If He was a liar He can't be a moral and good teacher. And if He wasn't lying, but actually believed He was, but isn't, then He was insane. Lewis said equal to a person who claimed to be a poached egg. If Jesus is not a liar or a crazy man, then that means He is who He claimed to be.

Faced with this question and having read and considered I made my choice.

My life has several chapters where Jesus was a distant God. One I knew on the surface. But when things got rough and painful, I began to struggle with such a shallow belief. As I dug He confronted those shallow beliefs with the truth. I couldn't deny that He loved me. Nor could I deny that He was calling me, or would enable me to become a person that I'd always wanted to be.

When my life was lived to get what I thought I needed but realized it was only what I wanted, I didn't want to meet my own eyes in the mirror. Hedonism was a lonely place full of noise and artificial light because the quiet and shadows brought introspection and fear.

When I found myself at the end of Kelly's best effort, broken, bleeding and miserable, I looked up and I gave up. My life was a royal mess and I didn't want it any more so I gave it to Jesus.

Ten years later, I am astounded at the changes in my life. Don't get me wrong, God has asked me to undergo some serious soul surgery. The process and His love have changed my life.

When I look back at the direction I was heading, I shudder. My children. Where would they be? What would their lives look like? Probably a lot like the miserable one I was living. After all, kids learn by example.

I'd be divorced, that's a given.

What would I have missed? A living breathing relationship with a flesh and blood God. Seeing my children follow Him and bloom into role models and human beings as they were created to be, beautiful and in the image of God. I'd have missed hours praying and talking with a man who's heart beats with mine, a man who has truly become my soul-mate. I'd have missed the struggles that have made me capable of being alone with my thoughts and at peace with people who've hurt me. I know where I'll be in eternity, I feel it my very core.

All because I believe Jesus is who He says He is, and I've anchored my future, present and past on Him.