New Year's Words

...as opposed to resolutions. I'm sure I must have been a teenager when I figured out that most New Year's resolutions were little more than whims of a moment. Wishful thinking. Statements that began with "This year, I'd really like to..." and ended right there, with little more thought to them, let alone any action taken, or a few weeks of success at best before old habits kicked in again. Although I love the sense of starting over that accompanies January 1, the day after Labor Day, and sometimes birthdays, I find that most resolutions -- real resolves to do something, or change something -- are not primarily motivated by the calendar.

Recently, I've seen people settle on *words* to keep in mind for the coming year. Single words like Focus, Patience, Joy, Simplify, Begin, Finish, Persevere, Faith, and even No (for those who need to practice pursuing their own calling instead of constantly letting themselves be talked into staffing someone else's) have been chosen as watchwords for a year. Although I've been just as remiss in choosing a word for an entire year as I have been in making resolutions (and neither neglect bothers me a whit), I am interested in the idea of words for seasons of life, words that sum up where we are right now and where we need to go.

Have you chosen watchwords or bywords for yourself in recent years (or felt chosen by a word, almost the way a writer is sometimes chosen by the story)? Do you have a word for 2015?

Happy New Year!

Merry Christmas

I hope the real stable was as cozy as this looks. I love how even the animals seem hushed and attentive. When I think that even birds and baby chicks, as well as donkeys, sheep, and goats, were privileged to witness the birth of Christ, it's a reminder that no creature on earth can be dismissed as insignificant. We have no idea what destiny may be assigned to such as these.

Merry Christmas, everyone.

Happy Thanksgiving

May your lives be fruitful and your baskets overflow. Happy Thanksgiving, all.

SCBWI-WI NE Area Fall Meet-up: "Working with Agents and Editors"

I had the pleasure and privilege of being on the panel with these lovely ladies just this past Saturday, November 15. Here we are:

Oops! Looks like I colored outside the lines a little there. But this way you can see us better.

We met in a lovely old building with lots of dark wood that houses Harmony Cafe in Appleton, WI. And the event was just what it sounds like: Attendees asked questions about working with agents and editors, and we shared our experiences. Researching, querying, revising, publicizing, deciding when a book is ready to query, when you should or shouldn't do an R&R (revise and resubmit), subsidiary rights -- all these and more were covered. Lunch was included, during which there was plenty of friendly chat; it's amazing how talkative a roomful of introverts can actually be. It would have been great to be able to stay longer and share more, which I guess is very much a sign of a successful event. A good time was had by all!

Tomorrow (Today) is *Thursday*

I usually schedule my posts. I'm scheduling this one, too. Except I'm doing so at 10pm the night before, because I just remembered *tomorrow is Thursday*. Or, as you read this, today is Thursday.

I'm busy writing, editing, teaching, SCBWI-ing, prepping for Election Day (I'm a pollworker), getting ready to host a grandchild this weekend (aack! Groceries needed!), and planning an upcoming short vacay to Indiana. I am not, frankly, reading much right now. But that's another thing I must do: line up some books for the vacay. My daughter-in-law and I always build reading time into the visits. Really, we're all reading something or other at some time or other, and the girls will ask for stories before bed. I can picture those cozy book-and-ice-cream evenings already.

I'm writing this now -- it's kind of like being up late to do homework -- because just a little while ago I finished a big scene in my novel. I feel accomplished! But then I realized there's a problem. I want "tomorrow" in the book to be Sunday, and...you guessed it, "tomorrow" is *Thursday*. I'll have to figure out what to do about that.

But now, I'm going upstairs to make that grocery list. Because I need the food by Friday morning, and *tomorrow is Thursday*.

Happy Thursday, everyone.

Another Book for our Critique Group

My long-time critique group has celebrated a lot of books over the years. Just a week ago we did it again, when Mary (second from right) brought her new book to our group meeting. Mary's Go Round is a self-published collection of all the short stories she has worked on since...well, since we've been a group. The physical book and its design are absolutely gorgeous, and it's filled with all of Mary's shiny, polished stories. With the release of this book, she has crossed a major item off her bucket list.

"I don't know what I'm going to write next," said Mary. "But I'll have to write something. You don't want me to leave you, do you?"

"No," the rest of us said, shaking our heads as one.

"Well, then I'll have to come up with something," she said. "What about family stories?"

"Yes!" we chorused.

So, we'll have to see what Mary has for us next time. Here we are, holding our autographed copies and our bubbly. Congratulations, Mary.

Off to the MWW!

That's Midwest Writer's Workshop, and it's being held July 24-26, at Ball State University in Muncie, IN. This is a large, annual conference with a fine faculty of authors, agents, and editors -- and this year, MY agent will be there! A link to the whole scoop is here.

The conference also happens to be not far from my son's home -- so, yeah, everything aligned for me to go. :) I'll share some tidbits next week!

Filling the Well

Really, I should phrase that "letting the well fill." Part of the process is the letting, not the controlling, or worse, the forcing.

I've decided that letting the well fill isn't all about getting a new book idea. Because I have one of those. Sometimes it's about just shifting gears. Taking a vacation of the mind or spirit. Sometimes it's about being something besides a writer. Laying it all down -- which is quite distinct from kicking it to the curb.

Sometimes letting the well fill involves reading. Who am I kidding: centers on reading. But I'm going to be selective and persnickety about that rather than going on a binge or a feast. If I were a runner, I'd run, but since this is me, I'll walk. And contemplate, and...and nothing, because this is letting the well fill. And it's trying on for size the idea of needing to be nothing except God's daughter.

Living the Dream (World)

The other day, something hit me. Now, this is not news, really. Not at all. But the impact of this realization was stronger than it's been in maybe forever: I live in a dream world. Like, all the time.

I can stare out the passenger window of a car (passenger window; I drive quite attentively, really I do) and be a million miles away. (When my husband's driving. If it's anybody else I feel less freedom and thus more duty to make conversation.) This dreaming goes way back, of course. When I was in sixth grade, and the in thing to do was play dodge ball every day at lunch recess, I always played, if by "played" you mean pranced around my side of the court and, on such rare occasions as I'd catch the ball, lobbed it with no particular aim at the opposing team. But that wasn't the real game, as far as I was concerned. Because, the whole time, I was observing the kids as characters and noticing how they threw the ball. One girl -- tall, skinny, tough -- cocked her arm straight back at waist level and threw bullets. Another, a "cute little thing," used both arms to swing the ball to her left and shot high, graceful arcs. During the game, I mind-wrote descriptions of  the kids and how they handled the ball. Everyone did it differently. Everyone had their signature throw. I couldn't just play dodge ball. I couldn't even mostly play dodge ball. It wasn't that I consciously thought there wasn't enough fun in an earthbound game. It's that I mostly don't know how to do something in the concrete, physical realm only. (And maybe that's why I'm always the one who can't work contraptions.)

The real world, so concrete, so full of things and tasks and jabber, has just never had much hold on me. Rather, the events of the real world have been doors into the games I really want to play, the scenes I really want to live -- and happily do, through imagination, and sometimes, I think, through spiritual, if not physical, reality.

Oh, and the the tall boy who didn't play dodge ball much, but the day he did, hit me "right in the numbers" with an overhand hardball that my surprised arms flew up and caught, causing my friend to scream, "Marcia? You caught that?" and causing me to zing, for once, fully into the moment? Him? He appears elsewhere in this story. Can you find him?

As for that recent event that caused me to realize how fully I live in a dream world? I can't remember what it was. The dream is ever so much more enticing.

One-week Blogcation

I'm taking a break this week only, for family visiting. See you all on May 1!

It's Thursday!

...and for the first time in a long time I didn't have a post ready to go up bright and early. My bad. Except, of course, it's not "bad."

I've been very busy writing, and just finished a big revision. Not big as in sweeping changes throughout the manuscript, but big in significance. So I am in that glow of "having written," which is one of the special moments we get as writers. And it feels especially good to be clearing my plate, as it were, for Easter weekend, setting daily life aside to focus on what, on Who, is most important to me.

Happy Passover/Easter, everyone.

My B&B Writing Retreat

Along with a writing friend, I spent Monday afternoon through Wednesday morning here, at the Audubon Inn, in Mayville, WI.

Yes, it is that gorgeous. And due to get even gorgeous-er, since they are updating the decor and making great new plans for the restaurant. All the rooms and suites are named after birds, and I stayed in The Falcon.

Yes, that's a falcon picture above the writing desk. And while I'm partial to the lace and flowers, I spent a lot of great time at THE DESK making good headway on my WIP. In the evenings, we visited over dinner (Chinese the first night, Italian the second), then repaired again to our respective rooms where, for me and I suspect also for her, there was more writing sandwiched between whirlpool sessions spent reading other people's fiction. We may have to make this an annual event!

In Which Not Having Time to Blog Results in Blogging

I am swamped! In a good way. There's lots of revision, and processing beta comments, and thinking about my story six ways from Sunday, and family phone calls, and planning my strategy for an upcoming writing retreat, and a manuscript to reread, and time to pray and dig into the Bible, and -- Must. Exercise. Must. Move. More! What's great is that walking, my exercise of choice, is great for both prayer and story-mulling.

What's also great is that DH (what's fun about calling him that is these are his initials) is perfectly content, nay eager, to be our main contact with the outside world. By which I mean he runs All The Errands. I tease him that the library ladies, who've taken to calling him "Mr. Marcia," would be disappointed if I showed up myself to check out the stream of books I normally keep on hold. Not all men would do this -- and with such a completely willing heart on top of it. Some men would bristle at the "Mr. Marcia" joke. Some people, frankly, would hear that phrase and suspect our family is "out of order." But he receives it in the good humor with which it's meant, and brightens others' days as he runs here and stops there. That's the man with whom I have been blessed.

So -- I am swamped, but in a good way. Do stay tuned, though, because next week I'll post about a friend's and my writing retreat at a B&B. Can't wait!

The Quotable CS Lewis

Do writers and quotes just naturally go together? I don't mean are all writers eminently quotable; I mean do writers just need quotes in some way? To help us jell a theme, characterization, concept, or key moment in a plot or character arc? Do they help us get at the essence of truth? I think they do; at any rate, I know that when somebody nails a good statement it's as if I admire the idea, the verbal acuity, and feel that I've gotten a gift and made a connection, all at once.

Here are some quotes from CS Lewis, whom I'd definitely nominate for membership in Most Quotable Club, that have done one or more of these things for me:

"Friendship is born at that moment when one says to another: "What! You too? I thought that no one but myself..." Who can't recall moments like this? Aren't they golden? Wouldn't they make a great "moment when I knew so-and-so was my friend" in a story?

"Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give it to now one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness." Ouch. How true is that?

"A children's story that can only be enjoyed by children is not a good children's story in the slightest." Has friendship been born, or what? :) (See the first quote.) The honest truth? I'd like to tell this to a few people on Goodreads.

"Atheism turns out to be too simple. If the whole universe has no meaning, we should never have found out that it has no meaning..." I have nothing to add.

"The homemaker has the ultimate career. All other careers exist for one purpose only -- and that is to support the ultimate career." This is a Lewis quote that I never saw before until a week ago. We have to remember that the man died in 1963, back when you could say this. But this is exactly what I thought when I was a kid growing up. On an endless string of winter mornings I'd wake up to the radio my dad already had playing softly as he got ready for his day, and it would sing: "It's Cream of Wheat weather, we repeat; so guard your family with hot Cream of Wheat." And I'd think, "Oh, no, it's morning already, and it's Cream of Wheat weather on top of it!" I had to get up and get ready for school. My sister had to get up and get ready for school. My dad was already up getting ready for school. And we all had to leave the house with our snowpants and our mufflers and even our bag lunches if it was so bad we couldn't go home for lunch (which most kids did, but we did not walk uphill both ways, I promise, and I should add that my dad got to drive). My mom got up, too, and saw us off, made sure we had everything we needed, and got her own day started. But she didn't have to leave the house, and she was her own boss. Maybe it takes an introverted writer to really get off on this, but I knew which one of us four had the best deal. Mom the homemaker, I was completely convinced, had the ultimate career. And how I would love, love, love to believe that the other careers that exist are still in support of the homemaker, and the sacrifices s/he makes, and the very real financial risks s/he takes.

And all this helps answer my questions about quotes, I think, because when I began this post I had no idea I was going to write the above.  Good quotes are the pickaxes we need to tap into a fiction writer's ultimate goldmine: our emotional truth.

Writer Marathon Soup

Too busy writing to cook? Need sustenance during your writing retreat that you can "just grab" and that's also healthy? Try my Writer Marathon Soup. Amounts here are approximate, and you can make any substitutions or omissions you like. On the eve of a two- or three-day "writer immersion" event, spend about 40 minutes putting this soup together, and it can feed two or three people for the duration.

Writer Marathon Soup
4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts
1-2 cartons chicken broth
1 can kidney beans
1 can white beans
1 can black beans
1 can green beans
1 can petite diced tomatoes
1-2 chopped onions
1/2 lb. baby carrots, cut if desired
2-3 ribs chopped celery
1/2 bag frozen veggies such as peas, corn, or green beans
water
basil
garlic powder
lemon pepper
Italian seasoning

1. Place chicken breasts in microwave-safe casserole. Cover and microwave 20 minutes on high for frozen. Fresh will be somewhat less.
2. Meanwhile, plug in or set on stovetop a large Dutch oven. Add to it the broth and canned items. Set heat to medium or medium low.
3. Prepare the onions, carrots, and celery, and put them plus any frozen veggies you're using in a microwave-safe casserole or bowl big enough to accommodate them. Add a little water.
4. When your chicken is done, take it out of the microwave and put the dish of veggies in. Cover the veggies and microwave on high till done, about 7-8 minutes or done to your liking. While the veggies are cooking, cube chicken and add to Dutch oven. Using a colander or strainer, you may want to add any chicken broth from the casserole to the pot as well.
5. When the veggies are done, add them plus the water from their cooking dish to the soup pot.
6. Add enough water to make your pot as full as practicable.
7. Add your seasonings in any amounts you wish.

You can now heat this soup through and serve, or refrigerate for later. I also do the dishes as I go, so by the time the pot's in the fridge, or within minutes after, they're all stacked in the dish drainer. You can vary this basic recipe and method so freely that the soup can be different each time you make it. Perfect for these cold winter days! :)

I Took the Plunge...

...and joined Facebook. Yeah, I know, what's so "plunge-y" about that? I mean, I got on Twitter without any angst, and my initial reaction to Twitter was, "Are you kidding? Who wants to TEXT the entire internet? And what for?" But I saw some advantages to Twitter. For me, at least, it's not a time suck. I can "get in and get out." And I've found that having to express something in only 140 characters results in a lot of "right between the eyes" quotes and uproarious lines appearing in my feed. In other words, it's not hard to find good food for thought or your laugh for the day, in only a few minutes. I like the challenge of saying something so concisely. I've found some great writing links. I've connected with people. And I know who I am on Twitter: I'm a writer.

With Facebook, most of this is murkier. I've only been on for two days -- and granted, the first evening it took some time to set up my account -- but the time-suck temptation is already stronger. You become Facebook friends with Cousin Hattie, and then you see that she's friends with Long Lost Mary, and whatever did become of good ol' Mary anyway...? I am absolutely firm that I will not get sucked in to excess, but I do get that you can suddenly look up at the clock and two hours have passed. And because the posts can be longer, they are, which means they (a) lack the punch of tweets, and (b) take longer to read. There's not the nice little challenge of boiling something down to 140 characters. And I'm not that sure who I am on Facebook. The mix of personal and professional has always made me a little skittish, and since we hear about people's FB accounts being used against them by prospective or actual employers, why shouldn't it?

I'm sure it'll all be okay. Despite the fact that I've friended mostly writers, while at the same time I'll enjoy keeping up with some cousins and other extended family that I don't see much. Because, truth to tell, what finally made me break down and join was missing out on an important piece of info once too often. As another writer said just recently, Facebook (among other, newer social media sites) is where the conversation is going on. With this mix of professional and personal, I guess that on FB I'll just have to be a person. :)

By the way, if you're on and I haven't sent you a friend request, feel free to send me one.

Merry Christmas

I love the "reality" of this picture. There are many lovely nativity scenes, but some of them, frankly, strike me as quite staged and over-religious. I think this picture, with Mary, Joseph, and Baby Jesus alone, and only God sharing their moment, is probably closer to the real nativity.

I will see you again in this space on January 2, 2014. I wish you all a holiday season filled with joy, celebration, family, friends, and reality -- not reality in its grittiness or grimness, but in its wonder and splendor, its love and peace. Blessings ~~

Happy Thanksgiving!

A very happy Thanksgiving to all of my American friends. May your lives be filled with joy, gratitude, health, family and friends, and abundant blessings ~~ Marcia

The (Invisible) Liebster Award

Thank you to Julie Whelan at The Paper Wait for giving me the Liebster Award! I'd post the picture, but it's being shy about showing up for me. This award is simply a fun shout-out from one blog to another, and like most such awards, has a list of questions to go with it! As I tend to enjoy interviews of all types, I'll gladly play. Here are the (possibly edited) questions Julie posed:

1. Where is your favorite place to write? In my basement dungeon garret bunker office, no question. If I tried to spend that many hours not in my proper chair not using my desktop (which I consider my real) computer, my chiropractor would really have his work cut out for him. Also, it's cozy and not distracting down here. If I had people around me or a window to look out of, that wouldn't be good.

2. What's the worst advice you've ever received? I read this in The Writer eleventy-fourteen years ago when I started writing: Writers should not have a day job, because they won't really pour themselves into their writing if they have a job to fall back on. Whew. Follow that at your own risk.

3. When you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up? A writer. Yes, at times I gave other answers to this question, but that was only to look good/normal. The only career desire I ever had that was not a passing fancy was to be a writer. Ha, which means that advice up in #2 looked pretty good to me. The answer other than writing that I probably should have given is "Librarian." But it took me decades to figure that out, and, really, everything has turned out fine.

4. What's your favorite book(s)? Oh, my goodness, the great unanswerable. Let me give you the most recent: Splendors and Glooms, Wonder, Masterpiece, The Penderwicks (all), anything by Gary Schmidt, Richard Peck, Kate DiCamillo, or Ruta Sepetys, When You Reach Me, Marcelo in the Real World, The One and Only Ivan, and that which must be marathon-reread on an annual basis, Harry Potter.

5. What's in your TBR pile? Story Physics, by Larry Brooks. A Dog Called Homeless, The Real Boy, W is for Wasted, The Cuckoo's Calling. That is a very short list for me, and it'll get a lot longer before it gets shorter.

6. If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be? (a) right here in Wisconsin's Fox River Valley, (b) I could be happy along the Milwaukee-Madison corridor too, especially near water, (c) wherever my family is.

7. What distracts you most from writing? The internet.

8. What is your biggest source of inspiration? An amalgamation of remembered childhood emotions, family stories, and prayer/scripture.

9. Why do you blog? Because I enjoy it, it's an outlet for writing other than my fiction, and it's a way to make friends with like-minded folk. And I get to think in public. :)

10. If you could travel anywhere in the world, where would you go? England. Castles, cottages, and villages with gardens. Also Israel. But in my heart of hearts, I'm a homebody.

I know that a lot of people have gotten this award already. I, for one, love to read these little insights into people, so anyone who feels so inclined, please consider yourselves tagged. :)

In Which I Go Outside

Last week, a friend and I took a day and visited some points on the Niagara Escarpment, which runs through portions of Wisconsin. These photos were taken in the general area of Green Bay, which is half an hour north of us. (Yes, we have more than football and cheese!) They are her photos, since my camera mysteriously stopped working after about three shots but then was fine after I got home. She's by far the better photographer, so I could joke that I just wanted *her* pictures -- except my camera really did get wonky, and she'd've sent me the photos anyway. The fall colors are really just beginning, and the waterfall wasn't more than a trickle, but there was enough rain this year that it wasn't dry, and we could still hear it. The cliffs and rock layers are something to marvel at.

Have you been able to get outside this fall?