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Tuesday, September 2, 2014

I Wrote a Novel in Three Days (and Lived to Tell About It!)

Ah, Labor Day Weekend--one last opportunity to spend time with the family, barbecue,  take one last spin around the lake.  It's summer's last hurrah! Three days to spend enjoying the weather and getting in all of those "one lasts" before fall finally arrives.
Unless you spend it the way that I did--writing a novel. And by writing a novel, I mean writing a novel. In three days. Start to Finish. Yup, that's what I did this Labor Day Weekend.
So, right about now most of you are probably thinking I'm nuts (and right about now so am I since I'm still a bit delirious) but, although they were 3 of the hardest days of my life, they were also 3 of the most rewarding.  So, even though I'm kinda tired of writing right now, I've decided I need to get this down for posterities sake. And also to explain it to all of my awesome Facebook friends who, though they were not shy about expressing their theories that I am insane, they also cheered me on, which is totally awesome.

First, a little background. This may come to a shock to you, people who read one of my four blogs, but I like to write. I started my first "novel" at age 10.  I got about 100 pages in and it disappeared. Not sure what happened to it and I know it wasn't very good, but I was 10.  I finished a 200 pageish novel at 15.  I never published it but I still think it would probably be a pretty good young adult novel so I may still do that someday.  Right after Cold Mountain came out in theaters 10ish years ago, I was so disappointed I decided I needed to write a better historical fiction/romance about my very favorite topic, the US Civil War.  It's currently on my laptop, unfinished at 250 pages--but I will be finishing it before Oct. 1st because I've already announced it's upcoming release to the 17 people who follow my Facebook author page and the 90 people who follow that Twitter feed.  I know, I don't want to disappoint the few dozen fans who may actually be awaiting it's arrival, lol.
But the true testimony to my writing happened this summer. I have also always been interested in the middle ages--princess and princes, that sort of thing (I was a history major in college after all) and so after a pretty vivid dream that had a good story line, I decided I needed to write a novel based on that dream.  Even though I still hadn't finished the book that had been sitting there for a decade--the one I promised I would finish before I wrote anything else, and thus the reason I have written no books in the last ten years--I had the energy to write this book and, if I've learned nothing else, it's that a writer must write exactly what they have energy to write and nothing else ( think about that a bit, writing teachers.)  So, over the course of about 3 weeks in July, I wrote a novel. My sweet friend who will remain nameless was so kind as to read it as I went and keep me going.  By the time I was done, I realized that I've been wasting a lot of my life not doing what I really wish I were doing because of lots of stupid excuses that essentially mean nothing. I am a writer--I am a lot of things--and I need to write.
There was just one nagging problem. I am a Christian. I go to church regularly. I am a reserved, conservative. I hardly eve swear. But when you're writing a novel, sometimes you have to write things that you're not particularly comfortable writing--and you have to be okay with the fact that your mom or your aunt or your boss or you student's mother might read them.  However, I wasn't quite ready to face all of that, considering it is a romance novel (although it' really more historical fiction or literary but it certainly fits the romance genre, too) and I am an elementary school teacher, I decided to publish under a pen name.
The only problem with that is, that makes it really hard to advertise and to brag to your friends!
Well, a lot of my friends have found out and that's okay, they're still my friends. And now one of my aunts knows, too, and I still think that's okay.
Anyway, I digress. While I was looking for ways to publicize the novel I wrote this summer, I stumbled upon the International 3 Day Novel Contest, which is exactly what it sound like. 3 days to write a novel. Apparently crazy people have been doing this for decades. There's a $50 entrance fee and it's totally the honor system. You can start at 12:01 AM in your own time zone on the Saturday morning of Labor Day weekend and you have until 11:59 PM Monday.  To write a novel!
Well, I just had to do it!  And I did! And here's how that process went for me.
Originally, I intended to come home from work Friday and go to sleep until 12:00. But that didn't happen. My husband had a "thing" to do and I had errands to run and tutus to make and it was just not happening. So, no nap. But I was determined that I could sleep Monday night (who needs sleep?) and at 12:01, I hit the ground running.
Before the contest begins, the only thing you're allowed to do is make an outline. Well, I'd been playing with the idea for a trilogy (yes, 3 books!) about vampire hunters for about a year now. I know, it's getting a little overdone. But, once again this was dream inspired.  And I guess I kinda wanted to give Stephanie Meyer a run for her money. (Something tells me she has a little more money than I do.)
So, armed with some open research tabs on my laptop, a sort-of outline and several bottles of water, I went off to the most secluded corner of our house and started writing.
I literally wrote all night that first night. I thought it would be wise to write while my children were asleep so they couldn't burst in and interrupt me.  I didn't stop writing until 1:00 PM on Saturday. Then, with about 20,000 words on the page, I took a two hour nap.  This contest isn't necessarily about length, but I knew that the story I was trying to tell was long and complicated and it would take time. My sweet husband kept me fed and hydrated and my children only came in a few times to ask my why I had abandoned them.
At 3:00, I started writing again. I wrote all afternoon and evening  until about  2:00 AM when I started to fall asleep at the computer. As much as I wanted to keep writing, I couldn't. I was starting to hallucinate a little bit--seeing weird shapes out of the corners of my eyes, etc.--and everything was funny. So, I took another nap, this time not a very long one, and I woke up ready to go again.
I didn't go to sleep again until about 3:00 AM Monday morning.  A total of  three cat naps in 3 days, about 7 hours of sleep. I only ate when my husband brought me food. I didn't watch television, play with my daughters, pet the dog--anything. (I did go to the bathroom but I am not ashamed to say I did not shower) I just wrote.
I finished the first draft Monday at 2:00 PM. But I wasn't finished. I had a 78,000 word document (that's 289 pages double-spaced) and I had no idea if it even made any sense. And, while I wasn't necessarily writing to win (although who doesn't want to win?) I didn't want to submit a pile of poo either.  So, I needed to read it and edit it and make sure none of my character's names or genders changed through the course of the novel.  So, that took a really long time, too.  I was finally done editing and submitted my novel to the fine people at the contest around 9:00PM.
I learned A LOT from this experience. First of all, I learned that I am a fast writer. I was keeping up with other participants on social media and my word counts were smoking theres. Not that mine was better, but it was longer. Secondly, I learned that I don't give up easily.  There were times when I started to think I HAD to go to sleep but I pushed through and kept going. I learned I have amazing friends. I asked for people to leave words of encouragement on my Facebook page and so many friends said such awesome things, it was wonderful. I had one friend "stay up" with me via the phone a great deal of Sunday night when I was really starting to lose it. I got some invaluable writing advice from my older brother, who is an award winning novelist. Even if I did end up writing a pile of poo, it would all have been worth it just for that.
But I don't think that's what I wrote. I strive to write the kind of books I would like to read and I really like what I ended up writing.  In fact, I do plan to write the other two volumes in the trilogy.
And here's what my book is about! It's called The Clandestine Ternion Book 1: Transformation. Now, you already know its' about vampire hunters but it's also about the other two groups (or Passels) in the Ternion (which means trilogy oddly enough), Vampires, of course, and Guardians.  It opens with a group of friend deciding to attend an Eidolon Festival (something I  think I invented for the sake of the book) which ends up being a party for Vampires and the like. One of the friends disappears and our heroine, Cadence, tries to find her. Cadence ends up killing a Vampire, making the other Vampires very angry and she wouldn't make it out alive if it wasn't for the Guardians--the group whose purpose is to protect Hunters from Vampires.  Cadence learns that she is a Hunter and that she carries a gene that, if activated, will allow her to develop her "super powers" and become a full-fledged Hunter.  She decides to activate the Hunter genes and goes of to train with a group of Hunters and Guardians.  Meanwhile, her ex-boyfriend at home is pining for her, she's developed a crush on the leader of the Guardians, and she's trying to follow the rules of the organization she's joined but realizing she has a hard time controlling her instincts and listening to the leader.  Also, the girlfriend of the Vampire Cadence killed in chapter 1 is organizing against her. (There are some other scenes I am skimming over that aren't as important.) The story climaxes when Cadence and the team go to Paris to try and defeat the girlfriend of the Vampire she killed in chapter one. To find out if she is successful or not, whether she ends up with her ex-boyfriend, the Guardian Leader, someone else or no one, you're gonna have to wait cause I'm not allowed to do anything with the manuscript until the winner is announced in January.  That being said, I would love to know if this plot sounds remotely interesting to any of you or if you fell asleep three sentences in to it.
Now, if you have read this far, I thank you and applaud you because this post is becoming a novel.  And here's the deal. My brother told me something so very true this weekend and I have taken it to heart. He said (and I paraphrase) sometimes as Christians we have to write things we don't really care to write because the story has to be believable to the author. We have to stay true to our characters and what typical people do (or say) in real-life situations.  He said, the second it doesn't seem real to the reader, he or she stops reading and then you've lost them. I get that now. Do I want to think about my sweet aunt reading my book and realizing, at the age of 37 with two children I'm not a virgin anymore, well, no of course not. And she probably doesn't want to think about it either. But people do that and it's hard to tell a love story without it. And I'm not talking 50 Shade of Gray. I've had some friends read those particular pages and tell me they are very tasteful.  So, that's why I've decided to share the link with you, my beloved blog readers, and let you decide for yourself whether or not you can read a love scene that I wrote and not be too embarrassed to ever look me in the eye again. The only way I'll ever know who read it is if you tell me (or if you leave me a GLOWING review on Kindle, which would make me want to bake you cookies or name my next heroin/hero after you.)  So, here you go. My published book is called Deck of Cards by ID Johnson and you can find it here. It's only $2.99 and even if you never read it, if you go download it and leave me an awesome comment, you are much appreciated. And if you read it and you love it then that's amazing. And if you read it and you hate it, well then, I don't need to know about it.
Okay--longest blog post every. Cheers to those of you who made it to the end and good night!
PS: My brother has written several novels but you can purchase his award winning novel The Devil's Choir by Chris Morrow here. Read it, you'll love it.

Thursday, August 14, 2014

What I Will Miss About This Summer With My Girls

It's about 4:00 PM right now and I am sitting in my bedroom, the TV on but just for the noise.  I can hear my daughters playing together on the catwalk, their little voices echoing out and filling up the living room.
I'm not sure if it's Littlest Pet Shop, My Little Pony, or Lalaloopsy--maybe all three.  But, they've been playing together with no arguments for about twenty minutes, which is pretty good for them, so I'm sure one of them will be down shortly to tattle. That's okay--that's how we roll.
Nevertheless, one of the things I will miss most about this summer vacation is hearing my children play together. Most of the time I'm in the same room or in and adjoining one.  Always close enough to hear their sweet voices--and to interject whenever someone is "not sharing."
I will also miss the time I get to spend with them, individually and collectively. We have had some really great times this summer, despite Imma's begging for a cat and Lucy's forgetfulness regarding the use of the potty chair. We've done some easy and simple but fun things, like baking cookies and making play-dough. We've had some awesome trips.  We went on a cruise to Mexico. We drove to Branson, Missouri for our annual "sister-cation" and we just got back from Disney World. But, as much fun as our vacations were, what I will miss most is just being at home with them, playing and loving on each other.
That's not to say that we haven't had our share of meltdowns (including Mommy) screaming fits and tantrums.  But this is the first time in the history of my motherhood that I haven't been ready (and I mean READY) to go back to school.  Usually, by mid-July I have had enough of full-time mommyhood.  This year, I could stay at home with them and be perfectly happy.  I think that's because they are getting more independent (although I still am the official snack-opener, shoe-tier, and toy-picker-upper) and they are learning to get along together better as well.  I think we will always battle "that's mine!" with Imma simply because it's so difficult for her to grasp the abstract concept of sharing and caring for others.  But, we are getting better at it.
Now, don't get me wrong, I love my job. I am so looking forward to seeing all of "my" kids (about 800 of them!) again.  I saw two of the students I have worked with in the past at Wal-Mart today and it was so nice to see them.  They've grown about two feet over the summer, I think.  There are a couple of children in particular that I miss like crazy.  I am very hopeful that they return this year.  Sometimes they simply don't come back and you just don't see them ever again and that's difficult.  I'm also excited to see all of my colleagues.  The start of the school year is something magical that you can't truly understand unless you've been a teacher and so I am looking forward to getting back in the swing.
But that doesn't make leaving my own babies any easier.
I will see Imma at school some. I'll be at her campus at least two days a week. But that's not quite the same and I always try not to interrupt, though I have been known to "sneak attack" hug her in the hallway. Most of the time, it's the other kids in her class who break the line and hug me and not my own little chica.
And then there's Lucy.  She is basically my shadow all summer long.  She just came in and curled up beside me with the iPad. She loves her childcare provider like a second mommy and Amy is one of our dearest friends. But the thought of not seeing her for about nine hours a day is something I can't think about right now. I'm so used to being able to hug her or kiss her or tickle her any time I want to. I'm definitely going to be missing her come Monday.
"Say Cheese!" I'm sooo going to miss this little girl!

And that's when I go back--Monday--three days from now. I know I'll be super busy and distracted but I'm still going to miss my girls. I'm going to miss being home or going out when we want to, building our own schedule and routine.  It's definitely not going to be an easy transition this time around.
I have a lot of friends who are teachers who are going through similar emotions right now.  I also have friends who are taking their kids to kindergarten for the first time.  That's also extremely hard when you've been at home with your child for five years and now he or she isn't there any more. And then there are those friends who are taking their children off to college. That's not even on my radar yet but I can't imagine how that must feel.
Tomorrow is our last day together before I go back and I hope to make the best of it.  Lots of memories have been made this summer and we need to add just a few more.  What are you going to miss about your summer?

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Why Does a Celebrity Death Hit Us So Hard? My Thoughts and Memories of Robin Williams

For most of us, watching a movie or television, listening to our favorite music, or enjoying a sporting event is a way for us to release, to escape the mundanity of our ordinary lives.  With the total 24 hour-a-day, 7-days-a-week access we now have to any and all entertainment options, it's easy to see how celebrities seem to become a part of our lives. They were there when some of our biggest moments occurred--Enya walked me down the aisle. When Imma was born, the Black Eyed Peas "got it started".  I have dozens of memories of watching The Beverly Hillbillies with my grandmother.  Does that make Buddy Ebson my friend?  Well, sort of.
I consider myself a pretty empathetic person.  I tend to take on the emotions of others, particularly those who are sad, those who are struggling. Therefore, I identify with people more so than a lot of people that I know.  So, when one of the celebrities I really care about passes on, I tend to take it personally.  I think many of us feel this way when someone we consider to be a part of our lives is no longer present, even if we only knew he or she through their art, through their medium.  Nevertheless, the emotions we have are real.
When Robin Williams passed away just a few days ago, it hit me pretty hard. Not in the same way it affected his family or friends, of course not, but when considering I had never even met the man, my reaction seemed a little much.  But, having reflected on this for the last few days, I think I know why. And I bet a lot of you can relate to my reasoning.
Robin Williams (pic courtesy of Wikipedia, fair usage)

Robin Williams has always been a presence in my life, even though he didn't know me. I remember watching Mork and Mindy when I was little.  At a time when I didn't really have much to say to my parents, we could still watch Good Morning, Vietnam together and laugh and cry.  And then, there was Mrs. Doubtfire. It came out at the same time that my parents were going through a brutal divorce, complete with custody battle over my younger sisters.  I watched it with my mom, and then my dad wanted to know her reaction. He identified with Robin William's character in that movie because they were facing the same struggle.  In that regard, Robin Williams has always reminded me of my dad.
And so he did in his passing as well.
My dad had a lot of similar qualities to Mr. Williams. He was a funny guy, always making people laugh, always acting goofy and silly. He loved kids and did his best to leave every single one of them that he coached or taught in Sunday school with a life lesson, something he did extremely well. He also struggled with depression.  To paraphrase, one of the last things my dad told me was that he was tired of being alone when he wasn't really alone, which is very similar to the quote we've seen all over social media lately, from Robin Williams, "I used to think the worst thing in life is to end up all alone, it's not. The worst thing in life is to end up with people who make you feel all alone."
Dancing with my dad at my wedding, photo bomb courtesy of my little sister, Braidi

And then there was the way I found out that my dad had died. I've discussed it here before.  A nonchalant (or so it seemed to me) phone call from a family member, "Levi died yesterday." Levi--my dad, Levi? Yes, that's the one.  I found out that Robin Williams died when I was half asleep, just a blurt from someone who didn't think I would care so much.
That person was wrong. I cared. A lot.
My dad died of a heart attack while fishing alone at night. He fell in the water and drowned. We don't know exactly which cause of death is correct. But I do know that he died all alone, struggling for air, and thinking of his loved ones.
I'm sure it was the same way for Mr. Williams.
I don't know, nor do I care, whether or not Mr. William's should have, could have, would have been better off to seek help--whether his friends or family or the medical professions should have done something different.  It does not matter now. I do know that he felt all alone and in complete despair when he passed and, for some reason, I feel partially responsible for that. Perhaps, it's because I never told him how much I appreciated him when he was still alive. That may sound ridiculous, considering I never even met him, but then it was one of my initial thoughts. How could someone we all care so much about think that he had nothing to live for?
But then, part of that probably comes from the fact that I didn't get a chance to tell my dad how much I loved him one last time either, considering he also passed so suddenly.
Although, I'm certain that he knew.
You see, when we lose someone like Robin Williams (or for others, maybe it's the legendary Lauren Bacall), we lose part of ourselves as well. We realize that none of us will live forever, that those who are around us, those we really care about, are just as finite as we are. We are reminded that we are all marching forward together and that, sometimes, from time to time, footfalls will cease and we will march on with one less.  This simply serves as a reminder that time is timeless, our journey is endless, and no matter which way we are headed, we are all progressing forward down the same intertwining path.
Does it seem odd to cry over the death of a celebrity I never met? Perhaps to some.  And that's okay. But part of me wants to believe that, if Robin Williams heard of my passing under a similar circumstance, he would be emotionally moved as well.  Because that's just the kind of guy he was. He truly cared about other people. That's one of the reasons that we, that I, love him.
It's not my job to speculate as to where Mr. Williams is now. I can only hope and pray that he has finally found peace and the same sort of joy that he brought to so many others. I can empathize with his children--having also lost a father suddenly and far too soon. I pray for their peace as well.  I ask that God will comfort his wife, his family and friends and that somehow they will find a way to continue to move forward, with one less set of footprints in their sand.
To all of his fans, those of us who were hit so hard and maybe we don't know exactly why, I say this, don't question it.  Embrace your reaction and your emotions and know that being human and loving others is okay, regardless of what may seem like an insignificant impact you had on his life amongst the millions of people who count him amongst their favorites, I have no doubt, he cherished each of us. So, it is okay to cry. It's okay to watch What Dreams May Come and sob into your pillow. It's okay to pray for him and his family and to tell others that you can't go out today because you've lost a loved one. And it's okay to remember all of the times that he made us laugh, made us cry, made us think.
Good-bye, Robin Williams. May you look down from the sky and finally realize just how much you are truly loved. You will be missed.

Thursday, August 7, 2014

Branson Trip in Pics

This summer, we went to Branson, Missouri for a few days.  It was my annual "Sister-Cation."  Every year I go someplace with at least one of my sisters.  This year Aunt Braidi and Aunt Sienna went with us.  We went to Dixie Stampede, Silver Dollar City, and downtown Branson.  I grew up about 3 hours from Branson and I went to Dixie Stampede and SDC when I was younger. It was nice to see the girls enjoy these locations as well.  I have some great memories of spending time with my Dad at both of them. Here are some uncaptioned pics. I think you can figure most of them out.  And yes, they do have "Dumbo-looking" rides at SDC!



























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Disney World Trip in Pics Part 1