Advice from the Unqualified

Have you ever thought about how, technically, people at the same level as you are not qualified to give you advice?

Take parenting, for example.  I’ve offered quite a bit of random advice here, all written down because I expect it to be useful (to someone… sometime… somewhere…) but if you were looking for real results, you wouldn’t look at my advice.

For that you would look around for some mother whose kids are grown and turned out the way you want your kids to turn out.  That’s results.  That’s experience.

Unfortunately, those moms can also be most insensitive to the place where you are currently living.

“Oh yeah,” says one lady enthusiastically, the first time I bring my 2-year-old and 6-month-old to practice for the musical Beauty and the Beast, “I brought my four kids with me *everywhere.* It’s so good to have them watching real life.”

Six weeks later she was irritated with me for bringing my baby, even with the 2-year-old farmed out.

I thought it was tremendously silly: even wearing the baby I could do all the choreography, and felt rather pleased with myself at that.

So I am not an expert in mothering: I am only keeping notes about what’s worked for me as I go along.  And sometimes that has been helpful.

In the same way

I am not a best-selling novelist.  I am not even a published writer (beyond our local paper), but I read people who are, and I am writing. I also happen to be very good at compiling and extrapolating.

So.  I have advice about writing.  Yay for me.  ;)

I’ll just share the thing on my mind just now, that provoked this post, and perhaps I’ll write more in the future.  But if there was one thing I could say to anybody gung-ho about getting published it’s this:

Don’t Trust Yourself.

Aren’t I mean? That’s the opposite of every female-written piece of advice I’ve ever seen published.  But I think it’s very important.

If you’re already convinced you’re a great writer, that you can slap your best stuff together on the first go around, I (or anyone else who might disagree with your assessment) am not going to seem all that helpful.  And you’re not going to be very easy to work with.  The trick is to let other people (the kind of people who should know) praise your writing.

There’s a great story in G.K. Chesterton’s book Orthodoxy where Ches is speaking with a publisher who remarked, “That man will get on; he believes in himself.”

Chesterton’s reply began with the observation that those who believe most in themselves are the ones who end up in lunatic asylums.  When the publisher protested they don’t all go there Chesterton agreed.

“And you of all men ought to know them.  That drunken poet from whom you would not take a dreary tragedy, he believed in himself.  That elderly minister with an epic from whom you were hiding in a back room, he believed in himself.  If you consulted your business experience instead of your ugly individualistic philosophy, you would know that believing in himself is one of the commonest signs of a rotter.

Actors who can’t act believe in themselves; and debtors who won’t pay.  It would be much truer to say that a man will certainly fail, because he believes in himself.

Strong words, and mentioned largely for their hyperbole, I mean them to illustrate my point; that is, no matter how much we believe in something, unless there is external proof backing up the belief our own effort or enthusiasm is irrelevant.

So, write if you must (it’s certainly cheaper than therapy!), don’t try to stop if you can’t, and feel grateful for your certainty if you know God had called you to write.

Just remember that He may not be calling that publisher to distrubute your work, and you’ll have healthier expectations.

Never Save Anything for Your Next Book

That is a point emphasized in one of the bossiest and most point-by-point practical books I’ve read on novel-writing.

You Can Write a Novel by James V. Smith Jr.

He approaches the process from a strictly utilitarian point of view; if you are hoping to be published, think in those terms from the beginning: Here, let’s rate your idea.  Is it strong enough to sell?  No?  Throw it out and try again!

~

Anyway, I’ve been thinking in terms of two books for months now, but Book Two has been much more hazy than Book One that is getting more-done every week.

Seeking to re-clarify things for myself I backed up and tried to name my three story strands– the magic number, remember?– and actually found them this time.

  • Linnea’s journey from abused single mother to strong defender and cherished wife
  • The journey of the mysterious stranger from slavery and isolation to freedom and community
  • The almost love-story of another pair of secondary characters (yes, I’m sure anybody will guess.  It’s part of the fun of prediction, isn’t it?  Knowing you’re right).

Once I had these clearly before me I could look at what I had bumped to Book Two for the wrong reasons.  When those pieces were added/returned to my current document it suddenly clarified the question of what Book Two was actually about.

Currently it’s nearly a complete thematic opposite, which is fascinating to me, considering how important I see the original themes.

It also made this finishing process a bit easier because now all of my three strands are happening where we are now, and the time line of the second book may be fitted to this one, rather than trying to write them simultaneously (I was drowning).

As a side-note the compilation bumped my word-count by a solid 10%.  This can be good or bad, but I’ve determined I’m not going back to iron out the added sections until I reach *The End* of my current track.

Opposites may Attract, but it’s Similarities that Stregthen

So many comedies (and couples) are build on the premise that “opposites attract” and all its derivatives.

While that may be useful for awkward comedic situations (and any number of marriages) I tend to agree with Neil Clark Warren:

In his book Finding the Love of Your Life (originally published by Focus on the Family) he asserts that similarities are money in the bank (of marital harmony) while differences are drains on the account.

Basically, the more similarities you have, the less you have to fight about.  Warren included in that book a very specific list of 50 areas of “helpful marriage similarities” where, essentially, similarity or agreement would simplify your life together.

In May of 2000, when Jay and I, in our different ways, were considering this marriage thing a possibility, I brought the list on one of our rambling drives and we began to work our way through it.

At this point I knew Jay wanted to get married, but I didn’t know what God wanted, and I didn’t know what I wanted.  So having a list was useful to me: something concrete and definable.

Knowing Jay wanted to marry, and knowing he knew me and my reliance on… well, outside confirmation, you could call it, I completely did not trust him.

Not that I believed he would lie– I already knew him to be one of the most deeply honest and open people I’d met– but I didn’t trust that his innate flexibility wouldn’t mold his answers to be more… compatible than fully accurate.

It was a Monday night when we worked our way through the first half of the list, me making him answer first, because I didn’t want my answers to influence him.  Before we’d made it through the first dozen I felt life a simpering “yes-man” because I was agreeing with all of his answers.

~ ~ ~

What I learned that night (and the next, before accepting his proposal Wednesday) greatly set my heart as ease.

When I first “noticed” Jay, my mind made a mental list of the dividing line of differences between us (the biggest I can remember at this moment being the type of movies he would see that I wouldn’t– mainly for the violence).  It was literally a “deal-maker” to see in list form–to recognize– the amount of significant similarities we shared.

If you want to see the whole list you should pick up the book, but I wanted to share the majors as Warren lists them.

First though, as Warren points out, no one thing breaks a relationship on its own; it is about debts vs. credits.

That being said, there are some similarities that are especially important:

  • Intelligence (not the same thing as education)
    • How smart doesn’t matter, but closeness in level does (feeling markedly superior to your partner is not something I consider healthy)
  • Values
    • What’s important to you: morally, relationally, in how you spend your time
  • Intimacy (of the non-sexual kind)
    • Are you equally capable/open?
  • Expectations about roles
    • Do you both know who’s going to make dinner?  Change the oil?  (Please change your own; it’s so simple and will save you some serious money)

You can see these are all things that could create frustration and discomfort when “nothing” was really wrong in your world.   Add in the normal stressors of life (and/or a kid or two) and you’re starting to feel like the ant under a magnifying glass).

When he listed the differences that cause the most problems I found myself nodding like a puppet– Most of us have heard of these  being elements in the divorces we’ve been forced to observe:

  • Personal habits
    • e.g. hygiene, clutter-bug/neat-nick
  • Use of Money
  • Verbal skills/interest in being verbal
  • Energy level
    • this last item was one I hadn’t considered before, though I’d heard the others.  But (especially having been married over eight years, now) I heartily concur.

Warren’s final observation is that flexibility can smooth over a great many differences; and “love covers a multitude of sins.”

To me the neat thing in all this was learning (the first time I read this book– before I even knew Jay, I believe) that there were things I could do before I was married to significantly reduce the amount of conflict in my married life.

For a (largely) non-confrontational type like me, that was great news!

And it has been a great life.   I think of my grandparents and marvel that (Lord willing) I still have many times the years we’ve already spent.

Conflict and snappy comebacks are great for books and sitcoms, but in my own nest what I enjoy most is simple peace.

Explaining Boycott to Children

I will leave names out, but a while back my husband suggested we join the boycott of a particular business because of some issues they were supporting.

The next time my girls asked to visit the place, I told them we wouldn’t be going for a while.  They of course asked why, and this was what I came up with.

When you spend money some place, that is how the business earns the money they use.  Some of it is used to keep the business running, and some is used for whatever the owner wants to use it for.

If we give our money to (Business), the owners are going to use our money to support things we disagree with.  Things we believe are wrong.  Mother and Dad won’t use our money to support those choices, so we can’t give our money to the people who will use it in that way.

Not giving them our money, choosing to spend it elsewhere, is our way of saying we disagree.

No, I don’t know if the 4- and 5-year-old got it.  But they did start asking different questions.

Instead of saying “Can we go (there)” they’d ask, “Are they still using their money wrong?”

Natasha said more than once, “It makes me sad they use their money that way.”

Melody asked, “Can we stop and tell the people there to stop spending their money wrong?”  Which led to other talk about how the local employees shouldn’t be scolded for decisions they don’t make.

When the word came that the boycott was ended, Jay e-mailed the news from work and I mentioned it the next time we were out.

Nearly effervescing in their excitement, the girls jumped at my suggestion to go, and Natasha said, “We really should spend our money there now, because there will be other people who won’t be happy (the business) changed how they used their money, and now they won’t go there.

That convinced me she, at least, understood the concept, because she was able to turn it back around and reapply it.

Of course, it could also be a sly bid for more visits, but it was also well-reasoned, and worth admiring.

7 Quick Takes for the New Year

~ ~ 1 ~ ~

Looks like it’s going to be another chilly entry into the new year: -30° and colder since two days after Christmas, and a bunch of highs near -40° through at least next Monday.

Anybody whose been complaining about your winter weather can be reminded now: It could be worse.

I’ve lived here most of my life, am very content indoors and we rarely have much wind on these cold days– So “it could be worse” even for me.

For example, this could (and has!) happen(ed) during a week when Jay had to drive to work each morning.  Thankfully he has this week off and we can hibernate if we so choose.

And the best part is a week of this and I’ll have no qualms about bringing in all the bedbuggy stuff still outside.  (Jay says he does, though, so I’m not sure what will happen.)

~ ~ 2 ~ ~

My “big” resolution, or goal, or… whatever you want to call it:

Nothing new this year.  Not even books– used or new.

This means not starting any new projects in 2009.

By contrast, in 2008, with an already-full life, I

The natural result of “nothing new” is no recreational buying.  No buying “on spec” (my gift shelf is well-stocked, my kids’ grow-into boxes ready, my homeschool books boxed and waiting.), and maybe even no buying without a list.

That last detail’s going to take more thought.

It means finishing the projects and books I’ve started (and bought to start), and training my mind to think first of what I have– even before the Library or other borrowing– because this isn’t first about saving money.  It’s about re-training my thinking.   The purpose of the exercise is to shift my thinking from “outward” and “exploring” to being more home- and contentment-centered.  Satisfied.

I have told myself I can buy books this year once/if I finish what I’ve already bought, but considering I’ve glutted myself a bit in the last two weeks, leading up to this challenge, that is even less likely to happen than is was last year when I tried the first time.

It is sobering to re-read that post and know my goal is exactly the same a year later.  But I also know that I made choices that led to discarding the effort, so (Lord willing) I’ll make a more purposed attempt this time around.

The first thing is to not go into a bookstore– because I *will* find something I’d like to buy (Yesterday I made sure to empty my B&N gift card and buy the one book left to complete the last of 2008’s series’ collecting).  The rest I guess I’ll figure out as I go along.

~ ~ 3 ~ ~

I just introduced the idea of “chore charts” to the kids yesterday, and made one for myself as well.

Since I felt it would be either overwhelming or depressing to actually list everything I must do, I just made a 3-point chart for me:

  • Read Bible
  • Exercise
  • Brush dog

I like having such a short list to look at; especially since I sometimes make serious to-do lists on the side.  My three little stickers at the end of the day feel so fulfilling I have no questions about why this works for children.

~ ~ 4 ~ ~

Starting the book Opening Your Child’s Spiritual Windows tonight raised a lot of questions in my mind.  Most about the nature of my relationship with my children.

Slantwise about the legitimacy of my writing and my desire to read so much YA fiction this year.  I (mentally) compared Fire Arrow with OYCSW and can see the value so much clearer in the second.

But unless I feel the call to write being withdrawn (which I haven’t) I have to assume they both are important.  Not because I expect FA to change my life (as OYCSW might) but because I need to be faithful to develop the skills God has called me to build.

~ ~ 5 ~ ~

I forget now where, but recently I read someone who insisted the way you become a better writer is 50% by writing and 50%  by reading.

Thinking on the implications of this I determined to keep it “before my eyes” (hence my massive reading goals).  I want to keep this in mind, because if I let my approach to the craft slip too much into writing alone (however important I know that practice to be) I fear I’ll fall into an underlying arrogance; that I might imagine I can improve simply from within, without external input.

And that goes against everything I say I believe.

~ ~ 6 ~ ~

My reading list– all books (though not all the books) that I have waiting on my shelves– is in my new right-hand column.

I have a new page listing what I’ve finished, what I’m reading, and a few thoughts on each as I go along

No reviews here, and no spoiler-warnings either: just the notes I want to keep for myself, and they won’t be spoilers for me.  Consider yourself duly (dully?) warned.

~ ~ 7 ~ ~

I *love* my new blog template.  It’s set up with all the changeable options (fonts, colors, widths) in an actual menu, so I don’t have to go digging though the style sheet to find them.

Anyone who’s tried to wiggle their own template details will understand when I say:

Absolute *delight* to work with.

More 7 Quick Takes at Jen’s place.

Don’t miss it!

October is Pastor Appreciation Month.  And even though it’s almost over doesn’t mean it’s ever too late for a thank-you card.

~

I just finished making the cards I’ll be giving out at church tomorrow, so if you’re itching for something nice to say to a church-leader (or his/her long-suffering spouse) I might have a suggestion for you.

As the daughter of church musicians I feel very strongly that they too should be included in this time of acknowledgment and thanks, along with their families.  All that time pastors spend preparing for sermons, counseling, and being “on-call” is time taken away from their families.

Yes, it’s a calling, and we trust God to provide strength in all situations, but no leader is immune to the encouragement of a genuine thank you.

Please don’t forget.

WFMW– Frozen Strawberries

This is the best way I’ve yet found to cool (overly) hot cereal.

Naturally the whole thing is tied to a story.

We used to use ice cubes, but one morning when we’d not been long back from a travel there was no ice in the freezer.  It had been a one thing on top of another morning and I griped at my husband as he passed through the room.

“Put something else cold in it,” he said placidly.

“Like what—Peas?”  Then I remembered the bag of frozen strawberries in our big freezer.

Jay returned as I was adding one to Melody’s cereal.

“Look at this and tell me I’m brilliant,” I said.
“Oh I’ve never doubted you were brilliant,” he said, easily. “Only your higher math and organizational skills.”

I had to laugh.

A little bit later he came back into the room and said, “Now me, I’ve got the higher math skills, but I’m just as ‘Organizationally challenged.’”

(I think it’s this sort of speaking-the-truth that I’m referring to when I talk about not being able to make characters like me.)

It is something rare and (frequently) precious to have a peaceful relationship where this kind of exchange is natural.

More fun-and-random tips at Rocks in my Dryer.

Explaining Halloween to (my) Children

As a Christian I have always felt a bit embarrassed about other Christians slamming Halloween for its pagan roots.

Yes, there is good evidence to tie it to old pagan rituals involving human sacrifice or the return of the dead (to visit/haunt the living– whatever you wish to call it) rather than “once to die, and then the judgment.”

The arguments from these people primarily seem to run that Halloween should be rejected because of where it came from (many books and, I imagine, websites, go deeper into the details so I feel no need to here).

But this is a genetic fallacy, and even before I had figured out the name for it, I knew it was faulty thinking, because I’ve only once (and that was just last year) heard a Christian reject Easter for its equally traceable pagan roots.

I’ve floundered every year on how much to let my children participate.

When I had an 8-year-old foster boy, I agreed to take him to his school’s “carnival,” and was relieved when I learned it was canceled because of freezing rain.

We made a costume together for door-to-door trick or treating (to fit *over* the warm clothes– you have to do that in cool places like Alaska), but I firmly guided him away from the gross or mass-inspired (from cartoon characters to Harry Potter) costumes, because I feel those either focus on what is evil or stifle creativity.

In case anybody wonders, or needs the idea, we made a spider: matching sweatpants and shirt (that could be reused in the future) with a pair of stuffed pantyhose sewn on each side with string tying the ankles of the hose to the wrist above it.

8-year-old *loved* it: all the arms had “life” because they were connected to him.

I felt rather clever.

Anyway, what really got me last year (and assured an until-further-notice non-participation) was how an article I read in the paper melded with a section from one of my favorite books (The Perilous Gard).

The timing itself was… precise.  In the morning I read the retailers’ claims that the increasing presence and gruesomeness of Halloween paraphernalia is utterly market driven: “We’re just giving them what they want!”

The same day (while I was making dinner) I listened the the section of the book that was the preparation of a human sacrifice.

It  turned my stomach like it never has before, and I couldn’t imagine any more the “practice” and implications of this gross stuff to be innocent or worth perpetuating.

Here is where the genetic fallacy can have value: it should remind us what was (or should have been) left behind. We shouldn’t forget what it’s like to watch people live in fear– not knowing there was a sure defense from every terror that walked the night on the Feast of the Dead.

Continue reading »

Nesting

I have been *totally* nesting today: dishes all washed, kids rooms cleaned, laundry all folded and put away.

It has nothing to do with being pregnant (because I’m not), but it’s helped me understand why I *hated* the term nesting when I was pregnant.

I only remember one specific time it was used on me.  Shortly before Natasha was born I was working on a (for me) particularly complicated quilt

when a couple from my church stopped by.  The wife, a quilter herself, admired the assembled top (this picture is just for illustrative purposes– not my own work) as it lay across my ironing board and said “Oh, isn’t that neat; you’re nesting.”

I was feeling irritable because the angles hadn’t met properly and there was no way the top was going to lay flat without taking in most of the center star, negating the focus of the color choices.

That my ineffectual efforts as an artist were admirable (or worse, “cute”) was not something I wanted to hear right then.  I did my best to be gracious but that word nesting would not go away.

I heard it again as each of my subsequent children neared birth, and hated it each time.

Looking at it from this end, I can deduce that the perceived insult came from the implication I was behaving in an unnatural way that could be explained away (dismissed) as a mere flurry of hormonal activity.  This was nothing I could hope would last and my natural, slatternly, ways would return once I was settled into my new routine.

No wonder I felt insulted.

Naturally, none of the nice people I know would actually mean this.  Consciously.  But It’s made me want to be more careful in commenting on anything that lumps an admirable activity (e.g., tidiness, creativity) into some kind of generality.

Anything that is out of the ordinary for an individual has taken effort, and whether “hormones” or “instinct” have helped push the first-step, those intangibles shouldn’t get the credit or be allowed to dilute the sense of accomplishment that stepping out of “normal” allowed.

Whose Will?

One thing I have struggled with in my parenting is the role of the “strong will.”

I have a strong will, I always have had (and my mother likes to say every child is a strong-willed child), so I really don’t feel threatened by examples of will in my children.

I like to say: “I’d rather deal with the challenges of a strong will now than the consequences of a weak will later.”

But being a fairly honest person I have to ask myself sometimes whether I’m making a decision to train their will or indulge my own.  Yes, it’s good to teach them to wait, but children are supposed to help their parents grow less-selfish too…

Many times the issue seems to come down to: Do I feed *their* self-centeredness or my own?

I have been praying about this off-and-on since last winter, and in Sunday school this morning I think I found a resolution.

We were talking about Jesus and how many times he made it clear he was not working from his own agenda, and someone read John 5:30.

The part I needed was, “My judgment is just, for I seek not to please myself but him who sent me.”

This was what I needed, because I am so concerned with justice; fairness.  How could I know I was being just? I have to run it through this filter: Is this choice an effort to please God or to please myself?