A Book is Born

Writer’s Block In Spite of a Beautiful Day

fullypersuaded1 — Thu, 11 Aug 2011 23:11:37 +0000

For most of the day, I sat in my backyard writing. Boise summer warmth relaxed my morning muscles. Birds chirped, chattered, and hummed. Hummingbirds, fueling up for their _____ -mile migration to Mexico visited the feeders every ten or 15 minutes, it seemed. The Westies lay contentedly at my feet as happy. A perfectly beautiful day. But not perfectly inspiring. My muscles ached from an interrupted night’s sleep. My brain played keep away. My need for an income distracted me. And my coffee, even with Coffee Mate hazelnut creamer, was too strong.

I had major revision decision to make and the ideas were blocked. So, I watered the garden, pulled a few weeds, scooped some poop, and watched the Dog whisperer. Then I prayed–Why hadn’t I prayed sooner?–and got back to the revisions. And it happened. I saw the problems and I saw the solutions. Now Chapter 9, fifth revision, is almost complete.

to offend or not to offend

fullypersuaded1 — Mon, 08 Aug 2011 02:41:18 +0000

In college, I took a memoir-writing class. At that time, I did not even know about a genre called memoir. I loved the class and did well at it. In fact, the full-length book I am working on today began as an essay from that memoir-writing class. I’m thinking that the journaling I have done since 1971 contributed to my natural flow in this genre. One thing I learned in my memoir-writing class, a thing I had, to some extent forgotten, is that there comes a point in a memoir that the author must decide between truth (I like the use Tristan Rainer’s term “emotional truth”) and keeping the peace. Because truth, even emotional truth, which is actually the only truth people can recall, is likely to offend somebody. I have already experienced this and the book isn’t even completely done, let alone published. At first, my immediate, people-pleasing, I’m-sorry-and-will-immediately-change-the-part-you-don’t-like reaction automatically kicked into gear. I was willing to compromise my truth just to keep people happy. I want them to read the book, don’t I? Of course, I want them to read the book, but if they don’t read the book somebody else will. That’s not to say that I shouldn’t consider what people say. Whether I like what they say or not, I should listen to what they say. And I do. But I don’t HAVE to agree! I don’t have to change my emotional truth to keep people happy. If I do, the book I will be like the person in the Bible “…[s]he who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind” (James 1:6b). Besides, unless they have written documentation of the literal truth, they are basing their reaction on THEIR emotional truth). So, I keep writing memoir knowing that despite my best efforts, something I write will offend someone.

Sent!

fullypersuaded1 — Thu, 04 Aug 2011 23:12:31 +0000

What does it feel like to send a book proposal that has taken months to write to a literary agent AT HER REQUEST? The answer is incredible! Completing my proposal and first chapter after this much time is a tremendous sense of accomplishment. Sure, sure I know that it’s not truly complete until the editor, agent, and publisher says ‘it’s done.” But honey, for now it’s done. Addressing the envelope, purchasing the postage, and handing those pages + SASE to the postal clerk is like a fresh, cold Coke on a 94 degree day. As a matter-of-fact, that’s exactly what I did when I walked out of the post office. I purchased a cold 20 ounce Coca-Cola Zero.

Stuck & Discouraged

fullypersuaded1 — Wed, 03 Aug 2011 22:53:17 +0000

Since I know it happens to writers all the time, I shall be transperant and share with my readership that I am doubting my ability to do this. Do what? To write this book well enough. I’ve written the book and it is good, but good is not good enough. I need outstanding and I don’t think I’m there. Do I have the heart to take it back a notch or two, take a big breath, and write extraordinarily?

Corn Bread, Black-Eyed Peas, and Turnip Greens: an excerpt

fullypersuaded1 — Wed, 03 Aug 2011 22:36:31 +0000

Corn Bread, Black-Eyed Peas, and Turnip Greens

Chapter Seven

1974 – 1975

Back home, with King and Josh running alongside, I rode my bike in a neighborhood I would not have ventured into without my dogs. People stared at the strange sight of a white woman riding a bicycle in a dress with two German Shepherds, but their stares didn’t deter me. I was determined to go to church with people who shared my new faith.

At the corner of Derby and California streets, I approached a white stucco building that, even in its simplicity, seemed to illuminate the corner where it stood. Half an hour earlier members, called saints, mingled around the porch visiting, but service had already begun and the porch was empty. So, while almost 200 pounds of German Shepherds waited for me outside, I walked into Bethlehem Temple.

When I entered the congregation, people twisted in their seats to see who had come in late. Several saints sitting in the rear of the church moved aside to make room for me on a hard wooden bench against the rear wall. I wedged between them, our bodies touching slightly and placed my hands upon my lap.

A wrinkled elderly woman in a bright pink hat with violet flowers poking out of the hat like a freshly-picked bouquet stood up from her seat and shouted, “The Lord woke me up this morning.”

Nobody in the church I visited in Boise stood up shouted their business for the entire congregation to hear.

Praise the Lord! Another woman in the congregation shouted.

”And he gave me the strength to get out of bed,” the first woman continued, this time waving her right hand at the ceiling. “Glory-to-God.”

Hallelujah!

The woman sat down and another person stood up. “He got me a job the day before my rent was due.” Glory to God!

Hallelujah!

I’d arrived to the church during testimonies, a time in the service when members share their blessings with the congregation.

After testimonies, the choir sang:

We’ve come too far to turn around.

The devils on my tracks and he tries to turn me back.

But we’ve come too far to turn around.

The choir swayed; the congregation clapped; the piano pounded a lively accompaniment as the choir repeated the verse for the next twenty minutes. At that time, a solidly-build black man in his early fifties stepped up to the pulpit as the choir returned to their seats. The man gazed at us with such intensity that I self-consciously looked at my skirt to smooth a fictitious wrinkle.

“The devil may be on my back, but I’ve decided I’m not going back,” the man said. “God’s strength is my strength. He says, ‘I’m gonna let you use my strength. I’m gonna let you get up. Let you go on your journey.’ That’s the kind of God he is. Hallelujah! I thank God today.”

A lady in front of me stood to her feet and shouted, “Thank ya Jesus.”

Others followed her in spontaneous praise.

Hallelujah!

Glory to God!

Praise Jesus!

The preacher’s sermon had only just begun.

***

I had walked into a rich world where Christ wasn’t religion, but life, a spiritual connection made alive through an unwavering faith in an unseen God. The pastor, Elder Willie J. Burns, a self-taught “holiness” preacher from Mississippi and father to 11 children, preached with conviction and fervor.

And I was a three-week old baby Christian beginning the adventure of my life.

fullypersuaded1 — Tue, 26 Jul 2011 16:49:45 +0000

Chris Meade Passes the Pastor Baton # 1

In a sermon about “Courage,” 7/17/11, my pastor announced that he plans to step down from his position as pastor, and thus his days at the pulpit are few. He is the first truly grace-based pastor I have ever had and I will miss him. He is beloved. So beloved, in fact that people cried when they found out.

His announcement surprised me and I felt sad, but I didn’t cry. I thought, but he is the primary reason we keep coming back to a church that in over six years has not quite met our relational needs. Then I felt excited in a funny kind of way. I just knew that Chris and Mary’s decision to step down to seek the Lord for direction was absolutely and without doubt within God’s divine order. And though I don’t know how or why, I know that this divine change will bring positive change to Grace Chapel of Boise.

If you want to listen to a truly humble, God-fearing pastor, check out Chris Meade’s 7/17/11 podcast “Pastoral Message.”

http://gracechapel.com/podcast/grace_podcast.xml

Oops, I Didn’t Go To Church Today

fullypersuaded1 — Mon, 25 Jul 2011 03:39:23 +0000

This Sunday morning, my sanctuary is my backyard. My sermon is the various bird chirps, squaws, hums, and tweets that fill the vast Maple tree hovering like a huge, green tent over my yard. My pew is a black wrought-iron chair shaped to my body with a feather pillow folded against my lower back. My brethren are three lazy West Highland White terriers and one lazy Shetland Sheepdog. For the most part, they lounge beneath my wrought–iron chair with no conscious whatsoever. They are the experts, not regarding spiritual things, but regarding guilt-free living. The sermon today is guilt-free living.

Not that long ago, I could not skip church without feeling guilty. Not long ago, to skip church for anything other than a bedridden condition was reckless, naughty negligence. An encompassing need to justify my delinquency badgered my thoughts. I don’t do that as much now.

Now I realize how 31 years in controlling churches seriously confused me. Now I am unraveling. Now I know that “whatever the law says, it says it to those who are under the law” (Romans 3:19).

I am no longer under the law. And that is a big HALLELUJAH!

Why I Think Eat, Pray, Love Was So Successful

fullypersuaded1 — Thu, 21 Jul 2011 16:08:06 +0000

The first step in learning from Elizabeth Gilbert, author of Eat, Pray, Love, is to figure out why her book was so successful. I mentioned the most obvious thing reason in 7/19/11 blog. Elizabeth Gilbert CAN WRITE. She unfolds the proverbial onion to expose her deepest emotions and reflects upon them with insight and charm. Compared to her use of emotion and reflection, my writing is two dimensional. Flat. Barely breathing. I don’t even think of half the things that come to her mind when I write about my emotions.

Another reason I believe Eat, Pray, Love is so successful is that she dissects and explains emotions and mental processes of two common human conditions:

Divorce
Craving the Divine

Ms. Gilbert dissects the emotions of her divorce with such raw honesty and insight that, with the divorce rate rising, millions share her emotions. And in doing so, she validates their emotions. Same with her search for the Divine.

And this is what a great writer does and that’s why their books sell.

Elizabeth Gilbert, My Mentor

fullypersuaded1 — Wed, 20 Jul 2011 02:13:15 +0000

Ok, though it’s difficult to admit, I’ll be honest–this book intimates me. Actually, I’m jealous of Ms. Gilbert, which is even more difficult to admit because jealousy is not a virtue and I strive to be a virtuous woman. That’s probably the problem right there: I strive.

I realize that using Ms. Gilbert’s bestseller-made-into-a -movie in the comparative section of my book proposal is somewhat conceited. I’m actually embarrassed to admit that I compared my book in anyway to her book. The reasons I used it is because 1. I had a hard time finding books similar to mine 2. Eat, Pray, Love and my book do have some legitimate parallels.

Even though Eat, Pray, Love parallels my book in some ways, there are plenty of differences. For one thing, though we both write about spiritual journeys, we don’t believe alike on several major spiritual-journey points. However, those differences do not invalidate her incredible writing skills and what she offers as a writing mentor. That’s right. Bestselling author Elizabeth Gilbert doesn’t know me but she is my mentor. She is my mentor because I have decided that instead of being jealous of her writing skills, I’m going to become a student of her writing skills. I’m going to glean whatever skills I can from this amazing writer.

Strong, Tender, Confident and No, I Don’t Have a Flat Stomach Yet

fullypersuaded1 — Sat, 16 Jul 2011 03:37:53 +0000

I have spent many years getting to know and appreciate myself as a strong, confident but tender woman who may never have a perfectly flat stomach. Having entered my fifth decade with a fair amount of denial, I developed and now live by the motto “I will grow old gratefully, but not gracefully.” In-other-words, I have decided not to passively accept the aging process, and in doing so, am in the best physical shape of my life. No, not beauty queen/calendar perfect, but healthy and accepting of my physical flaws. This is the attitude I hope to leave as a legacy in the heart of every young woman I know: my daughters, neices, friends, etc. I’m passionate about it. I’m passionate about other things, as well, which is probably why I write. I must write. I ache to write. After seven years, I am just finishing my first full-length book. This is a very exciting time for me. Well, gotta go. My time on the library computer is almost up.

Written two years ago.