I've blogged about this before, but it's worth celebrating often. Once a month my husband takes over all responsibility at home and with the kids and I spend the entire day at the movies. It's my escape from responsibility and gives me all kinds of creative energy that I then throw onto the page. I missed my movie day last month because I was at LTUE and have really felt the lack.
Movie day keeps me sane and lets my kids see a lot more of the nice mom instead of the cranky one who's been around lately. Of course, cranky mom has also had to spend four days in a hotel and the car with kids who refuse to listen, so that might have a little something to do with why she's been surfacing so often lately. Today should fix that for a while, at least until next month rolls around.
First, I'm going to take some flowers to Mom's grave in Bountiful, then I'm treating myself to lunch at my favorite restaurant, The China Platter. After that I'm heading to the theater to see what's playing. I'll buy a bucket of popcorn and some of that white cheddar powder to dump on it and will spend the rest of the day in cinematic bliss. I can hardly wait!
Quote of the Day: "Everybody walks past a thousand story ideas every day. The good writers are the ones who see five or six of them. Most people don't see any."
I'm in Las Vegas for the weekend. No, I'm not here to hit the poker table or slot machines, I'm here to see Pop. He's in town from Hawaii and the seven hour drive to Vegas is a heck of a lot easier to make than the miraculous journey it would be to drive to Hawaii. It's been a nice visit thus far.
On a not-so-great note, I woke up to another rejection today. Yay. Can you hear the enthusiasm?? It's kind of a sucky way to start a trip, but what's a person to do. You can't get accepted without risking rejection. I've been lax on sending out submissions, what with finishing chapters for the LDStorymakers First Chapter contest and preparing for this trip, but I'd like to get back in the saddle with it come Monday. Well, like may not be the best word to use there, but it's something I need to do.
Sorry I've not been around much lately. It's just been insanely busy. Next week I've signed up to do a Book In A Week challenge and though I know I won't finish an entire book in a one week, I'm going to devote four hours a day to the project and see if I can't get myself writing daily again. I am finding that I have to schedule my writing time in just like any other project. It's the only way I can rationalize spending so much time on a project and neglecting my household duties. I'm learning how to work around that though. After all, I've got two great helpers living in my house who need to learn how to work just like I did when I was their age . They're learning all kinds of responsibilities and their help allows me the time to write, so I figure it's a good exchange. They get to learn the value of work, and I get to stay sane.
A perfect solution, if you ask me.
Quote of the Day: "Better to write for yourself and have no public, than to write for the public and have no self."
"Sydney Morgan is no wimp. A black belt in karate, her defensive moves help keep her tough, even when her mom is diagnosed with cancer and her long-lost dad shows up to play nice guy. But when an unexpected gift transports her through space and time to the land of Zarahemla, Syd just might be in over her head. Accused of being a spy, she has to prove she’s no threat to the locals—including Captain Helaman himself!
As war quickly approaches, Helaman calls on Syd to help his stripling warriors prepare to fight. Torn between concern for her family and for her new friends, Syd musters her wits, strength, and faith to face the coming battle—but her feelings for Chief Warrior Tarik put her heart on the line. Who will survive the Lamanites’ fierce onslaught? And will Syd ever make it home again?"
I didn't expect to like this book nearly as much as I did. From the moment I found out Syd's mother owned the dojo where she trained I was hooked. It was heartbreaking seeing the broken relationship with her father, and fascinating to watch her interact with the stripling warriors. I certainly hope there is a sequel to this one as the one thing I did not like was the ending. I wanted to see what happened to Syd and whether she got back home or not.
In my eyes that's the sign of a good book. If you get me involved enough in the characters that I actually care what happens to them then you've succeeded in your writing. I look forward to seeing where Kathi goes from here.
Book: The Forgotten Warrior by Kathi Oram Peterson
I've had a monster tooth ache that has been getting progressively worse for the past two weeks. I finally made an appointment went to the dentist and it turns out I had an absessed tooth that required an immediate root canal this morning. Thankfully the miserable ache is gone but my head is swimming so much from Vicodin I can hardly see straight.
If you don't hear from me for a few more days, it's because I'm in bed sleeping off the pain pills and not because I'm ignoring you. I'm still submitting to agents, and have only had two rejections thus far. I'll keep submitting, even if I have to make up a day here and there from sleeping through it.
Brain not working. Must sleep. Sleep . . . Sleeeeeeeeep. *snore*
My friend Melinda over at PelMel posted a blog today that struck me clear to the soul. You can read her post here. It was humorous and fun and got me thinking about my own journey of creativity.
I tend to be a creative person by nature. I've always been that way. I've always been drawn to color, whether it was with crayon upon a page or the shades of fabric I can't help run my fingers across. I've always loved music, whether singing, playing, writing, or listening. I've been able to draw, paint, sculpt, cut, and build whatever I chose, though not always with as grand a result as I'd hope. The point is, it came easy for some reason, and being raised by the mother I was, I always believed I could do anything I set my mind to because that's what I'd been taught.
The problem came when I had to choose which paths to pursue. First I had to choose whether to chase my dreams of music or art. I chose music because I'd put the most work into it with private lessons and such, but also because I knew if I was going to get to college it was the only way I'd be able to afford to get there. Mom always said she'd pay for missions but not college, even though she wanted us to go. There just wasn't enough money to stretch.
I remember at the age of 17 taking aptitude tests that spread across the board, but tended to lean more toward the arts and teaching than anything else. I sat on my bed in frustrated to tears because I knew I had to choose a path for my life and the opportunities seemed endless. Everyone was told to choose something they were good at and pursue it, but what could I do when I seemed to be good at everything I tried? (Well, everything but math. I knew that would forever be a closed door.) I finally decided I wanted to be a teacher and narrowed it down to music and english, but still hadn't made up my mind while away at school. I went back and forth until finally my health made the decision for me.
I got sick. I got really sick and the doctor told me to pack my bags and go home because I'd be wasting my time at school for months if I chose to stay. I listened and went home and my dreams of playing with the Utah Symphony evaporated. Over the six months it took me to recover I still played with my options for the future and eventually chose to serve a mission. One day in Connecticut I woke up with a dream playing through my head, a dream with a girl playing a magical flute that called a white wolf. They sat under the moon and communicated with music and I wrote it down. I captured the picture in three short pages that spoke to my soul like nothing but music ever had.
I discovered the music in words and there was no turning back. The passion that filled me then has ebbed and flowed over the years, but somehow it has continued on and I have found that writing is my call. It speaks the voice of my soul much better than my mouth ever could and that is what brings me the greatest joy. I've found my muse through writing. Writing brought me back home to the self I thought I'd lost when my music faded.
This final bit of Melinda's post sang to me. I've watched it four times already and will do so again and again until I can recite it. The message of Elder Uchtdorf was just what I needed to hear today: hope.
The more you trust and rely upon the spirit, the greater your capacity to create. I love that, and I have found it to be so true in my creative efforts. May we all ever remember to rely upon the creator's spirit as we give birth to our own creations.
