Christmas Tornado Update

Every single time we drive down the highway that leads to our subdivision, one of my daughters asks a question or makes a comment about the tornado. Every single time.  And it's been about five weeks since the tragedy.  Today, it was an innocent remark from my five-year-old. "Mommy, tornado and tomato sound the same, don't they?"  Yes, baby, they do.  Please stop thinking about the tornado. But, of course she can't stop thinking about it when there's still debris every where, when our neighbors' houses still don't have roofs, when we drive past what appears to be a demilitarized zone every day on the way to school as the construction companies do their best to tear down an entire apartment complex that was decapitated by the tornado that swept through Garland on the same night its relative visited us.  No, she can't be expected to put it all out of her mind when it's still staring her in the face every day.
She asks questions like, "What color was the tornado? I bet it wasn't pink because pink is nice." Or "Did our house that we used to live in get tored up by the tornado?"  Any time we see a building under construction, she just assumes it is because the tornado ruined it. And while Imma doesn't ask as many questions, I hear what she is not asking in her silence.  The bottom line is my children don't feel safe--and I hate that. Because, while I  can install an alarm, lock my doors, get a really big guard dog and a gun, there's absolutely nothing I can do the next time the wind decides to turn into a monster.
We are getting a safe room installed in our closet under the stairs. It will be in by the end of March. Not surprisingly, the company that installs them is very backed up right now.  We looked at several options, and while it would have been cheaper to get a small storm shelter outside, we feel like this is a better choice for us. It will be inside our house, which should make it even safer, and we won't have to worry about going outside in a storm to get to it. Here's to hoping the sever weather holds off until it's installed, because even if there's no threat of tornadoes in our area, the second it starts to thunder again, my children are going to freak out--and so am I.
I'm still jumpy at the sound of a brisk wind, or an unexpected loud noise. I find myself looking twice at anything that looks out of place or suspicious. Sometimes I even question buildings under construction or areas along the road that look slightly different.  And I'm thirty-something years old.  I can only imagine how difficult it must be for those who lost everything, those still in hotels or sleeping on sofas--especially the children and the people who actually lost loved ones.
The tornado taught me a lot of lessons about things I never even pondered before. For example, did you know home owner's insurance does not cover debris removal out of your yard unless it came from your own home? Imagine that! Also, deductibles  suck! Despite the fact that we had a relatively small amount of damage, this tornado is costing us quiet a bit because our deductible was so high. Also, it is difficult to replace an eight foot tall front door....
I also learned that we have amazing neighbors--and by neighbors I mean people who live within a few hours' driving distance. We had a ton of people come help clean up our yard--most of them I don't know and will probably never see again. I learned that our trash company, Barnes Waste Management, is incredible. They hauled off all of the debris the insurance company wouldn't cover---for free.  The volunteers stackd it up and Barnes hauled it away.  The people at my schools are also pretty amazing. I say schools because I had people show up from two schools ago--and I don't switch schools that often.  Three worlds collided for me that day--but in a good way. And those who couldn't actually come and help gave us a gift card to help replace the girls' Christmas decorations that got trashed.  How thoughtful is that?
It was confirmed for me a few weeks ago that one of Lucy's strengths is her Emotional Overexcitability. That may sound like a detriment (and in some ways it is) but what it really means is, much like her mother, she wears her heart on her sleeve. This is going to affect her because she feels other peoples' pain. She is not only sympathetic, she is empathetic. I understand that because I am exactly the same way.  So it will take us a while to work through this. But we will. And while it may seem that we need a bit of perspective (after all, our house is relatively fine) it isn't that simple because in the midst of our own terror that there might be another tornado creeping around outside somewhere waiting to sneak up on our own house, we are also pondering what it must be like to be one of those four surviving children who lost their baby sister in the tornado, or our friends down the street who lost their home. We get that in a very real way. So don't see our tears and fears as selfishness; on the contrary, much of our dismay is on behalf of others.

This picture was taken about three hours before the tornado hit our neighborhood.

One of the ways that I can work on my understanding and acceptance of the tornado is to write. It helps me process. It helps me resolve.  And if my words are informative or comforting to others, then that makes them even more meaningful.  While I am fully aware that 99.9% of the human population has completely moved on from the Christmas Tornadoes, I also realize there are still others out there, like this cute little girl next to me, who are still considering the what-ifs and the what-might-bes. Here's to hoping that pondering, preparation--and a whole lot of prayer--leave those questions unanswered indefinitely.

Five Things the Tornado Taught Me to do Differently Next Time

This is a follow up to my post from Sunday, the one where I relived the terror our family went through when our house was in the path of what we now know to be an EF3 tornado. You can read that story here. Luckily, my family is safe (save one chicken, RIP) and my house is okay.  Our neighbors were not so lucky; directly across the street from us, two of our neighbors died as they tried to run for cover.  Many of our neighbors didn't realize we were in the path of the storm.  My family knew it was a possibility. I was a cynic while my husband was thinking worse case scenario. If it wasn't for him, I would have been upstairs with my girls when it hit.  We still would have been all right because our home didn't take a direct hit, but if I had taken it seriously, like my husband did, there are some things I would have definitely done differently. And that's where this list comes in.
There are two things I want to say first, however.  First of all, we will absolutely be buying a storm shelter--soon. A little over $3000 is positively worth it to make sure my family is safe. If you have the means necessary, I strongly suggest you get one, especially if your home has no interior rooms like ours, and/or no rooms without windows.  Secondly, these suggestions might not work for you. These are things I would do differently if I had it all to do again and will do differently if I am in a similar situation with the time to get these things done safely before the storm hits.  If you do not have time to consider any of these things, by all means, get you and your family to safety first.
1) Dress for success.  When the tornado ripped through the other night, my girls and I were in our pajamas. It was the day after Christmas and we were chillin' watching a movie. It was about 7:00 PM. When we went to our shelter spot, the bathtub in our master bedroom, only my husband was dressed. The rest of us weren't even wearing shoes. In retrospect, I should have had the girls and myself dressed with shoes on, just in case we found ourselves in a situation where we had to leave the house immediately. Walking through broken glass, boards with nails sticking, up, etc. would be much easier with shoes. Also, if I had been in a situation where I was having to talk to emergency teams, I would have felt much more comfortable in actual clothes. I know this would probably have been one of the last things on my mind in an actual emergency, but if I have the time to dress appropriately next time, I will.

This is what Lu was wearing when we took shelter, sans the slippers. See the clouds in the background? Getting dark already.

2) Grab my wallet. Most of the time, if I am out of my house, there are two things that are with me; my phone and my wallet. I had my phone but not my wallet. If we had been in a situation where one, or all, of us had to go to the hospital, it would have been easier if I had my wallet. We ended up going to a hotel that night because we didn't have power, but if we would have had to go to one because we had no house, having my wallet would have made it easier. Besides, knowing where your ID, credit cards, health insurance card, etc. are is always better than wondering who might have them.
3) Have my pets with me.  When the storm hit (not the tornado, but the storm) two of our dogs freaked out. This is pretty typical. We usually put them in their kennels so they feel safe. This is where Duke and Kassidy were Saturday night. Barkley, our third dog, was loose.  If our house had been wiped out by the tornado and Kassidy and Duke had been in their kennels, they likely would not have been able to get out and seek shelter.  They could have been crushed. And even though Barkley was loose, two of our outside doors came open, and for a while I had no idea where our little seven pound friend was. (Turns out, he was under our bed.)  Next time, I'll make sure they are with me and loose so that if they need to try to run away they can. I'd rather have them free and lost than smooshed.  Although I would definitely try to keep them sheltered as well, I would have to choose holding on to my children before my pets, and instructed my children to hold on to the bathtub instead of a dog.

Kassidy, the black ball of fur, was in her kennel. Barkley, the other ball of fur, was loose and missing for a few minutes.

4) Bring "stuff" inside. We didn't have a lot of warning that a tornado was headed for our house, but we did have some warning that a storm capable of producing tornadoes was, and yet I left all of my Christmas decorations in the yard. I had plenty of time to bring them in if I'd been thinking about it. I also could have brought in several other items that we ended up loosing--like our trash cans, which could have been in the garage.  If the tornado would have wiped out our house, it might not have mattered, but since it didn't, it would have been better if these things had been brought inside.

Perhaps some of this should have been in the garage.

5) Call someone ahead of time who is out of the storm's range.  If you live in a rural area, it might be a good idea to let someone out of the danger range know what is happening. We live on a pretty busy highway and have several neighbors, but if all of us had been incapacitated and unable to call for help, it might have taken first responders a long time to find out we needed assistance. In this particular situation, I was able to call 9-1-1 immediately, but a friend of mine also sent me a text as I was on the phone with the dispatcher. She had seen the path of the storm on the news and wanted to see if we were okay. Next time, I will let someone out of harms way know what is going on and make sure they know that if they don't hear from me intermittently, they need to check on us and possibly contact first responders. Yes, it is possible that I could just lose my signal and they could end up sending someone out to check on us when we are fine, but I think it's worth the risk to make sure someone knows to check on my family.
I think the most important thing to do is to think about what you will do in different scenarios well in advance of any immediate threat, have a plan in place, and carry through.  Take every single possibility of danger as serious as possible, and don't wait to see what is going to happen--respond as if it will happen.  We also need a plan for other catastrophes--like house fires and break-ins.  I hate to scare my kids, but I also want to them to feel empowered in knowing we have a plan and that they know what to do in case of an emergency.
Does your family have a plan in place for a tornado? If so, what is it?

Our Night with the Twister: Living Through the North Texas Tornadoes

The events of last night are still surreal; even as I sit in a warm, safe hotel room, surrounded by my family, knowing that my home is perfectly fine except for some missing shingles and a bowed out front door, I oscillate between questioning my own mortality and praising Jesus that it wasn't much, much worse.  Somewhere amongst those variations are the thoughts that we could all be gone right now, that we could have all been completely spared, that we could be lying beneath a pile of rubble, that we could be home watching a family movie.... Regardless of where we could be, this is where we are--by the grace of God.
Yesterday was a pretty typical day-after Christmas. I am not a big fan of December 26th, never have been. I'd skip it all together if I could. It marks the beginning of the end of the holiday season, and I'd just as soon have winter be over altogether once Christmas has departed. So I slept in. I read a lot. And then I went upstairs to watch a movie, Aladdin, with two little girls who had spent most of the day playing with their new toys. I knew there was some sever weather in the area, whatever that means, but I have often been of the opinion that if a tornado did touch down, there was very little chance it would be anywhere near my house. So I invited my husband to come with us. But he declined, stoically staying outside where he could "keep an eye on things."
The genie hadn't even made his first appearance when my husband came upstairs and told us we needed to get downstairs now. The girls didn't want to come, having no idea why they should be alarmed. He said there were tornadoes on the ground in a city about twenty miles from us. I thought there was no reason to panic; we'd likely be fine, but I paused the movie and took the girls downstairs.  They have spent a few minutes in the bathtub on a few other occasions and had no reason to think this would be any different than the last. We'd be upstairs before we knew it, watching Aladdin save the day.
Let me pause for a second to remember my own childhood. We had a basement in my mom's house, and I remember spending a few evenings down there waiting for storms to pass. I remember one frantic night my mom was out searching for us because she wasn't sure if we were with my dad or at my grandma's house--the sirens were going off when she burst through the door and grabbed my brother and me, taking us home to the always safe basement beneath our sturdy brick house. My dad didn't have a basement, and I distinctly remembering spending a few hours in a closet one time as he went in and out, checking to see if the storm had passed. I was terrified that time because there were bricks in the closet, and I was sure we would be buried beneath them for days.  I was never in a house that got hit by a tornado, and I never saw a tornado, but I have had hundreds of dreams where I am looking out a window of a familiar house--my own, the one I grew up in, my grandma's, etc.--and there is a twister headed straight for me. I often try to hide, and sometimes I make it into a basement or beneath a stairwell, but sometimes I am sucked up into it, or a loved one is pulled away from my arms. I have always been afraid of tornadoes. But as I said, I never really came face to face with one--until last night.
But yesterday, I wasn't panicked.  I didn't think for a moment that we would actually get hit by a tornado. I did the things I could to make sure my family was safe.  We don't have a single interior room and only one with no windows. Because of the direction the storm was coming from, Brian told me to take the girls to our bathroom. Even though there is a large window, he thought it would be safer for them to be in the bathtub. So I put them in the bathtub with some toys, threw some blankets over them, grabbed some pillows, and waited.  About five minutes later, my husband came running in and said there were power flashes on the ground. I had no idea what he was talking about, but I guessed it wasn't good. I could hear the wind picking up around us. I was still skeptical. He told me to lay down over the top of Lucy and he covered up Imma.  I did as I was told, still thinking this was not happening.  The next thing I knew, the whole house was shaking. I've heard people say that tornadoes sound like trains--it's true, they do. It was as if the Polar Express had shown up a couple of days too late.  The windows were rattling, and I could hear all sorts of things hitting the house from every direction. I was waiting--waiting for the debris to hit, for the house to crumble, for the window to break, for the storm to attempt to rip my child from my very fingers. Then, after about ten to fifteen seconds, it was all over. I looked around, looked at my family, looked out the window. I could see all sorts of paraphernalia whipping about outside.  And then I saw it--the twister--at least part of it, illuminated by lightning, and it appeared to be taking out our neighbors' house.
I had my phone in my pocket, and I pulled it out to call 9-1-1 as my husband ran outside to survey the damage. I let the responder know we were fine, but I was worried about my neighbors, and he sent help immediately.  I went out into the living room, expecting there to be damage. There was very little. The doors had blown open--the backdoor and side door--and there were Christmas ornaments littering the ground, along with leaves and other debris.  Other than that, the inside of house appeared to be fine. I thought it must have been a small tornado--nothing too horrible.  I began to calm down a bit, hoping everything was fine.
My husband had gone outside, and even before he came back in to tell me, a sickening feeling hit me as I began to hear screams from across the street. Brian came back in and said, "It's bad--it's really bad."  The gas station across the street from us was leveled. There were people trapped under the rubble.  Our neighbors' houses across the street were falling over. The fireworks stand nearly toppled, trailers on their sides. Cars had been moved ten, twenty feet.  Our yard was full of debris. We couldn't see the extent of it at the time, but it seemed to be everywhere. The top of the gatehouse, right outside of our yard, was missing.  But the worst were the screams.  And there was not much we could do. I stayed with the girls, and Brian went out to help. The first responders began to arrive, stopping at the gas station first; certainly this was the place where they were most needed.  It turns out our neighbors next door had very little damage--two houses beyond that, the roof was torn off. This must have been what I saw from my window.
I'm glad I couldn't see what was happening at the gas station.
Two people died last night right across the street from my family as we were huddled in the bathtub. As I stood there bracing myself for the worst. praying aloud that Jesus would keep my family safe, another family was being crushed inside a convenience store. Our neighbors were in their hallway in a small wooden home, shaking for fear of the same thing happening to them.  And this same angry storm would  march up the road about twenty miles and claim the life of a newborn baby.
Tornadoes are finicky.  They will demolish one house, skip a couple, take out a brick structure, leave a mobile home standing. My daughter claims they have eyes, that they are hunting, and that you must stay completely still and hide for them not to see you. While the thought is terrifying, I almost wish it was something so simple--something we could control. If everyone is still, then no one will get hurt. But it doesn't have eyes, and there is no way of knowing why my family was spared while others were destroyed. There's no way of knowing why we lost a few shingles while the sweet mother of a friend lost everything she had collected in eighty years of pious living.
We did what people do after catastrophes; we looked for people.  The firefighters, EMTs, and police workers were doing their best to save those people across the street, and they got to a few of them in time. We didn't get in their way--we stood with our other neighbors and prayed. We talked about the things we couldn't believe--like how both of our trashcans full of garbage from Christmas, each weighing over sixty pounds, were completely gone while the glass patio table was just fine.  People on the highway had stopped--they had to since there were first responders everywhere and downed power lines. Some of them got out of their cars and wandered around, almost as overwhelmed as we were. Others turned around, determined to find another path through.  It was reassuring to see people--other lucky people like us.  We shook our heads and mumbled about the things that didn't really matter, thanking God that we were alive, praying for the injured and for those still in the path of the storm.
With no power and two scared little girls, we decided to find a hotel for the night. It took a while to get out of our neighborhood, but even a few hours after the tornado had passed, I'm sure my eyes were still agape as we passed by the sight of the worst destruction. The gas station, daycare center, feed store, and at least four houses across the street were almost completely gone. It looked as if a bomb had gone off a few feet from our home.
None of us slept well last night. The girls had bad dreams--I could tell by the way they tossed and turned. I had some not so pleasant ones as well, though they were not of tornadoes.  Even subconsciously, I was asking the deeper questions. Why were we okay when others were not? Was our home really unharmed, and if so, how was that fair?
But there's no fair--there's no distinguishing what one did or did not do to "deserve" a pardon from a tornado.  Did I pray harder than the sweet old man who lost his life across the street? I doubt it. Were we in a more strongly built home? Possibly. But I think we just caught the corner of what we now know was an EF2 or EF3 tornado estimated to be about a half a mile wide. It jumped and twirled and danced its way down the street in a macabre fashion, leaving those who prayed hard and those who didn't pray at all equally victimized or absolved in its wake.  I do thank God that we are okay, but I don't think that my prayers had anything to do with it. I do think that mercy had everything to do with it.  We didn't deserve to die; we didn't deserve to be spared. The same can be said for the victims who lost everything.
We are about to embark on our second night of our hotel stay. I have two little girls who are afraid of loud noises, afraid it's another "tormato" out to get them.  They are bored, they are confused, they are tired. They want to go home and play with their Christmas presents. They don't understand what "the power" is and why it being out has anything to do with them. And while they will probably be terrified of "tormatoes" for the rest of their lives, they do not understand the gravity of what they've just been through, a detail I am thankful for.
Today, I feel lucky, and thankful, and blessed, and humbled. I am thankful for good friends who volunteered their time to help, though there's not much anyone can do right now. I am prayerful for the people who still need our prayers--and our money, donations, and time. I am hopeful that those missing pets will find them soon and thankful that while we are missing a chicken, our dogs are safe. Our children are safe. And in the daylight today, we were able to determine that our home is safe.
We will have to wait for insurance adjusters to survey our damage to minor things--like shingles and the fence--but other people have no home; they have loved ones that were ripped from their fingertips.  They have lost everything.  Those people need our prayers and whatever we can give. What do I need? Well, right now, I will certainly accept prayers for my children, that they feel safe and loved, that they can go home soon.  Other than that, the only other thing I may need is something I can only give myself--absolution.  And like everyone who has ever asked the questions, "Why me? Why not me?" that will take time. Please continue to pray for the victims of the tornadoes in all of the communities effected this week. In Texas, that includes Garland, Rowlett, Blue Springs, Sunnyvale, Ovilla, and my small town of Copeville.  If you can, please donate to the Red Cross or any of the GoFundMe accounts set up, like the one for my former student's family, which you can find here. Thank you for taking the time to read this, and God bless each of you and keep you safe.

This used to be a gas station and convenience store.

One piece of our fence is missing. Just one.

Our bbq pit is on top of our fire pit, next to a perfectly intact glass patio table.

The fireworks stand across the highway.

The gatehouse right in front of our yard, missing its top.

Our front yard and pond littered with debris.

Our neighbors had very little damage either.

A piece of aluminum or metal wrapped around one of our trees.

One of the monsters that cut across North Texas last night, leaving at least 11 dead.

Please continue to pray for our town.

What If You Are Wrong?

Most of the time, when it comes to social arguments, political debates, etc., I choose silence over being offensive or making other people feel uncomfortable. I think a lot of Christian, conservative women such as myself feel the same way. However, in light of the recent Senate decision to continue to fund Planned Parenthood, I decided I needed to speak up. I've been silent about this issue long enough. I, for one, no longer feel comfortable simply making other people feel comfortable.
And yet, my proposal is not targeted at starting debate or controversy. In fact, I don't even want an answer to my question. Instead, I would like for everyone who reads this who happens to think that life begins at birth, or has some other level of understanding regarding why abortion should remain legal, to ask him or herself one simple question--What if you are wrong?
That's all--simple enough.
And I don't mean start telling me (or whomever) all of the reasons why you couldn't possibly be wrong. There are definitely situations when you might need to be able to defend your opinion to someone else, but in this instance, I would like for you to just assume you are wrong for a moment--and I will do the same.
Someday, I will stand before God in all of His glory. If He looks me in the eye and says, "You know Amy, abortion was fine. Life doesn't start until a baby is born." I can honestly say I wouldn't feel bad for the stance I have taken.  I can look our creator in the eye and say, "Oh, okay.  Thanks for clearing that up."
But, if I were pro-Choice and I had to stand before the creator someday and He looked me in the eyes and said, "Abortion is murder. Every time you spoke up to defend Planned Parenthood, a woman's right to choose, or to blast a Pro-Life person, you were contributing to murder," I would have a different response. Likewise, if I were to actually have an abortion, work at an abortion clinic, or perform abortions, I don't think I'd want to stand before God and hearHim say those words.
I could go into all of the reasons why I know that a baby is alive long before he or she exits his or her mother's body. Having given birth twice, it seems pretty obvious to me. But that's not my objective here. I'm not trying to convince anyone of anything with this post. I just want you to think about it.  If you are wrong, are you okay with that? If you are, well, then, there's probably not a lot I could say to convince you otherwise anyway. But, if there's a shadow of a doubt in your mind, perhaps you need to do some more thinking--and praying.
And to those who don't believe in God, even the negative Karma abortion may be sending out into the universe should be enough to make you stop and question.
I expect negative comments and responses, and I may or may not respond to them.  But all I'm really asking is for you to think about it....

How Quickly Time Goes By

I have not updated this blog in a very long time, but I just read an article on Facebook reminding me of just how quickly times goes by. It's time to say a few words about my beautiful daughters and the summer we are having--the one that will be over way too quickly.
Imma is about to start third grade.  She is a completely different person than she was just a year or two ago. She is doing amazing things. She loves Minecraft and builds structures on there "like a boss" to quote her directly. It is unbelievable to me to see what she can do. She has some amazing friends who do a great job of weeding the autism out from the little girl, and I am always appreciative that we live in such a tight community where parents talk to their kids about including kids that are different and teachers are always right there to accommodate everyone. She had an amazing teacher this year, and a spectacular year--not a single "yellow."

Imma at 8.

Lucy will be starting kindergarten next month--and I can't believe my baby isn't such a baby anymore. She may look more like her daddy, but she is me in almost every way a child can take after her mother.  She is sensitive, overly-dramatic, loud--kind, considered, and loving.  I hope that I am still all of those latter things as well.

Lucy at almost 5.

We have three dogs now with the addition of Kassidy, our Hungarian Pumi. She is my new baby--now that the girls are getting bigger.  And the girls love her as well.

Kassidy. She has eyes, I promise.

I made the tough decision to change school districts this year, which means I won't be going to school with the girls. It's something I'm upset about because I wanted to see them, but at the same time, we all need to be independent people for at least part of our day, and I know they will be in fabulous hands at the school they will be attending.
Right now, I am focusing on spending as much quality time with them for these few fleeting weeks remaining in summer.  They are amazing little girls and I know before long they will be amazing young women. Hopefully, time will slow down just enough for me to be able to hang on to a few of these moments before they slip by.

Please Help This Precious Little Girl!

As a teacher, we tend to get very attached to our students--especially the sweet ones, the ones who always try their best, the ones who are always willing to do whatever it takes to be successful. My friend Sophie is just such a girl! She's smart, she's sweet, she's kind to others--and she has a horrible illness that is making her miserable, causing her severe pain, and keeping her from having the normal childhood she deserves.

Sophie has earned that Supergirl T-shirt!

Her parents are doing everything they can to provide the best medical care for Sophie but the costs are adding up. Sophie is in 4th grade and has already had 26 surgeries on her kidneys. I can't even imagine what it must be like to walk a mile in her little shoes.
Despite all of the difficulties, she still manages to come to school with a smile on her face (on days when she's not in the hospital or at home recovering from surgery.) I look forward to working with her in my small group because she is always cheerful and positive.  She's a little ray of sunshine and it hurts my heart to know that she is suffering so much.
I know times are tough right now for many families. But if you can spare even $5 to help her family pay for the next surgery, your donation will be greatly appreciated.
I know what it's like to have a child with special needs but I cannot even imagine what Sophie and her family are going through. Thanks so much for your prayers and kind thoughts as Sophie faces the next obstacle.
To donate to Sophie's medical bills, please click here. It only takes a moment and you can use any major credit care.

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.