An Encouraging Story

Yesterday I caught part of an interview on the radio with author William Moss. He said he'd gotten an order for 1,000 copies of Finding Inner Peace During Troubled Times for distribution to inmates. He got a second order for 4,000 more. If you go on Amazon you'll see this book was published in 2009. Moss said he's gotten over 100 letters from inmates telling him how his book has changed their lives.

Here's the encouraging part of the story. Moss wrote the book after he became sober six years ago at the age of 85. That's not a typo.

So tell me again how you'll never be free from that thing that plagues you? How you've given up on yourself or on someone else, how you've given up hope? How you'll never get published? How you can't change? How you're too old?

Hmm. Okay. That's what I thought.

Unexpected Surprises

A delightful new book in our public library collection is Tereasa Surratt's A Very Modest Cottage, a Country Living Book by Hearst Books, a division of Sterling Publishing Co., Inc. Ms. Surrratt describes the process of moving a 1920's log cabin she'd dreamed about owning as a child across two states and renovating it. You'll appreciate the authors humor and the ample color photographs. One of Surratt's comments on page 32 made me close the book and smile. I had to think about her observation and mull over it.

She describes what she calls the beauty of low expectations. "You are never disappointed if you predict only disaster." She was talking about a weather forecast during the cottage's cross-country trip. But think about it if you're a reluctant writer. Isn't it true that you are never disappointed if you predict only doom and gloom?

What are your predictions of disaster regarding your writing? You'll never get published, right? You can't compete with all the talent out there? Your writing will never be good enough? The topic has already been covered?

If we don't write and submit what we write, then we'll never feel the sting of rejection. But rejection isn't that big a deal. It's just a little sting. We can face disappointment and still go about our daily business. We're tough.

Judging Our Work

I'm taking a six week pottery class. Jessie is a very talented young woman in the class. Every piece she's made both by hand and on the wheel looks like it should be on display in a museum.

Jessie comes from a family of artists. Her grandmother was a water colorist. In going through her grandmother's things after her death, Jessie said she found some wonderful paintings that her grandmother evidently didn't like. Sometimes Jessie found paintings on both sides of the paper, and sometimes the paintings had been discarded for scrap. Jessie said she went through her grandmother's discards, and she framed paintings she loved to display in her house.

After someone else in class groaned about how pitiful his work was, our instructor, Kate, said she's noticed we often don't realize how good our work is. Everyone else's work looks better, we think, than ours. We're all guilty of comparing our work to others'.

In our last class, Kate asked us to get all our pieces together to glaze. I saw one vase I thought was so beautiful I consciously thought, "I wish this were mine." I picked it up, turned it over to see whose initials were carved into the bottom, and there they were -- JD, mine. Under pressure to crank out a piece the week or so before, I'd rolled out a slab, chosen a stamp for design, and attached a bottom. It was a simple piece I'd done quickly, and after it went through the fire, I loved it. Hopefully I'll still love it after the glaze is applied.

We are not in position to evaluate our own work. Just do it. Let it sit a week. When you go back to read your manuscript, you might be surprised.

originally written 10-15-10

From This Day Forward

It's lucky I have any hair left on my head. This morning I yanked at handfuls in frustration.

Yesterday I spent time on the internet trying to locate Word files of something I'd submitted just two weeks ago. This morning, I hunted for articles I'd published in 2008 to include in a list of writing credits. I remembered a term that might describe me, at least where paperwork is concerned. Stacks of papers? Can't find what I'm looking for? Chronic disorganization -- that's me.

Peter Walsh, http://www.peterwalshdesign.com/, Business and Work, Tip #184:Conquer Your Paper Files, suggests handling current papers first. I could do that, if I only had a system.

"I have to find a way to organize my papers," I told my husband. "I don't know whether to file by publisher or title or date." This is the man I've been married to for 41 years.

"Why don't you have three files?" he asked. "You can make one for current projects, one for articles submitted, and one for manuscripts accepted for publication. You can file by date."

His system came together in a matter of minutes. Now I can make similar folders for my computer files.

I have a fair number of publishing credits, but I still struggle with organization. Never assume anyone knows anything. What's easy for you may be a mystery to someone else. If you have a system that works well for you, why not write about it? Someone needs your help.

To Do List

It is 10 a.m. I've been on the computer for over two hours. I've uploaded photos to send to friends. I've written a very long e-mail I decided not to send. I've researched communities in another state.

When I first got up, my plan was to start the next chapter of the non-fiction book I've committed to writing. Here it is two hours later. I've been busy on the computer, but haven't moved forward with the manuscript. As I got out my notes for today's work, several distractions came to mind. The letter I intended to mail to my granddaughter yesterday still needs to be put in an envelope. I really need to call my friend, Lin. I promised my husband I'd play Frisbee with our dog.

I could handle these "to do's" in one of two ways. I could get the letter ready to mail, call Lin and take the dog out. Then I could block off two hours to write. OR I could begin a list of "to do's" that come to mind as I'm writing and tackle the list when I need a break. A pad of paper by the computer is helpful to record those necessary important things that can wait. I'm taking the dog out now to relieve myself of guilt. My husband asked me to do that as he left for work, and I could hardly hear him over the clatter of keys on the keyboard. I'll walk the letter out to the mail box and call Lin after I get a few pages complete.

Come, Annie, good dog. Oh, dear. Who left those dishes in the sink?

I'm not really putting off writing. I'm just allowing myself to be distracted.

Who am I kidding?

Overcoming the Need to Please

But what if someone doesn't like what I write? What if I hurt someone's feelings? It's going to happen whether it's our intent or not, so we just have to get over ourselves.

Years ago my husband and I read Dr. Wayne Dyer's Your Erroneous Zones. Dyer said whatever we do, half the people won't like it. James Patterson, interviewed in the July 5, 2010 issue of Time Magazine, page 8, said this: "There are thousands of people who don't like what I do. Fortunately, there are millions who do."

So don't let the possibility of criticism stand in your way of seeking publication. Criticism will come. We can count on it.

Change

Last spring I wrote a post about why I write in my pajamas. Who was that woman? Surely someone I used to know.

It is now 7:00 a.m. Dressed in jeans and a black long-sleeved polyester-blend blouse with white collar, no shoes, I've been at the computer for most of the past hour. I've proofed a manuscript I want to send off today and have searched Sally Stuart's Christian Writers' Market Guide for possible markets for a piece about the process of writing. I've had coffee with my husband, and we've talked about the day's plans and the morning headlines. Duke defeated Butler. Bummer.

I'm not sure when the change occurred, when I started dressing to write, but I made the change out of consideration for my husband. When he walks out the door for work, I'd like him to have a better image of me than sitting at the computer with pink plaid sleep pants topped with an ancient pink fuzzy shirt. Over the past few months, I got a new hair style. I bought a few new outfits. I've "spruced up." Maybe it's spring. Maybe I'm coming out of a depression. Maybe I no longer have reason or time to stay in my pajamas.

That, and I overheard a woman in the water color class I'm taking make a confession. Most days, she says, she stays in her pajamas until about an hour before her husband gets home, then she puts it in high gear, dresses, rips through the house picking up, starts supper, and probably meets him at the door with a drink in hand. She didn't mention the drink, but if she can get all that done in an hour, my hat is off to her. And she's not a writer.

The myth is shattered. Ordinary people can dress like writers? What is the world coming to? Are there no boundaries?

Writing What I Need

You've probably heard the encouragement to write what you like to read. What about write what you need to read?

Many of us have a calling. I know a man who preaches grace. Grace grace grace grace grace, the same message week after week after week. I've had one word that has motivated my life: love. Love love love love love in word and action.

The writing I've done has primarily been to encourage the church. I've written/published devotionals, inspirational stories/encouraging word tracts. By "church," I mean the body of Christ, not a particular group, denomination or building.

Encouragement must be my calling. I'm here on the side-lines cheering others on. You can do it! I know you can do it! I believe in you! Whoa, great pass! Go, team! Then, just a few weeks ago, I heard a pastor say, you know, what the church needs is more encouragers. More encouragers? That's something I can do. Here I am, ready for action, sir.

I do what I need, I think. I need a lot of encouragement. Sometimes I need someone to stand close to my right ear and scream, YOU CAN DO IT! I KNOW YOU CAN DO IT! YOU GET OUT THERE AND GO, GIRL! Encouraging others is a way to encourage myself.

You know the hell fire and brimstone preacher who rails against sexual impurity making the front pages because, well, you know. He hasn't been practicing what he preaches. I think his sermons are calls for help. Maybe my writing is a call for help. Help me! I need some encouragement here!

We all go through stuff. And in the muddle, we need something good to read, like a book on how-to-get-out-of-this-mess-I've-created, written by someone who's already been there. Who doesn't need a good laugh? Who doesn't really need to see themselves more realistically or see others more compassionately? I do. And who doesn't need to write a really bad book to inspire others to do it better? I saw a movie like that two nights ago. They call that a plot? I could do better. So . . . ?

If you are an encourager, a how-to-er, a make-'em-double-over-in-laughter-er, one who inspires, then somebody needs you. Don't just sit there. Write something brilliant.

Reason Enough

When I told my friend Barbara I'd just ordered Mary Pipher's book, Writing to Change the World, she asked, "You want to change the world?" Is there any better reason to write than to find some dark corner and turn on the light?

I turn to the written word for encouragement, comfort, education, advice. I am swayed by the words I read, so I know my words can sway others. I want to leave a little kindness when I'm gone -- and maybe a smile, maybe an "ah-ha" moment. I want others to know they are valuable, that their lives are purposeful. I can do that with the written word. And hugs. But those are best delivered in person.

I don't have to write volumes for my words to find their mark or to be effective. "A word aptly spoken is like apples of gold in settings of silver" (Proverbs 25:11). This is true for words aptly written.

Mother Teresa said, "We can do no great things, only small things with great love." May my writing endeavors be from a heart of love.

11/29/08

Dressed for Success, in Flannel

This morning I finally figured out why I do most of my writing in my pajamas. On my best writing days, I wake with a word or thought in my head that begs to be committed to paper. I know how fleeting good ideas are, so first things first. Whether I wake at 4 a.m. or sleep in till 7, I stumble to the computer to capture those words in print before they vanish. No trip by the bathroom or to the kitchen to make coffee.

I try to flesh out the idea as fully as possible. If I don't, what seemed so brilliant when I woke is a muddle by 8:30. Perhaps the fuzziness is because of my age or my hormones or the fact I drink too much caffeine or still eat sugar. As long as an idea is flowing, I keep writing. I'm usually through by 10:00 a.m. or 11:00 -- and still wearing my pajamas. Then I'll break, have something to eat during the transition, take a shower, tackle other things. I have been known to write till 3:00, then put myself in high gear to get myself and the house presentable before my husband comes home from work. I'm often trying to make it to the post office before they close at 4:30.

My writing days aren't always like this. I have been known to write in regular street clothes. But not often.

When my kids were young, there were no computers, just quills to write with and candles for light. (I hope you know I'm joking.) My mind worked better then, I think. I can't really remember. Single words and phrases jotted on paper made sense then. Now, when a brilliant idea strikes when I'm away from home, I'll jot a note or two on the back of a gasoline receipt or the edge of an envelope. When I find the notes buried in my purse days later, I generally have no idea what they mean. What seemed like the outline for an article on parenting jotted in the car now makes no sense. For example:

• Preface: Diane.
• young mom's in gr.
• Siolder women. (Soilder women? Sc: older women? I can't read my own writing.)
• HS teach you.
• This is something.

When I jotted those notes, I was certain I had a best seller. Now, I'm not so certain. Hey, if you can get a book on parenting out of that, this outline is yours. But you might want to change back into your pajamas.

The New Pup

Having a dog is a distraction.

My husband called at 7:15 a.m. from India. Had I fed the dog?

The dog. Oh. I tiptoed past Annie's crate, peering in her direction while whispering into the phone. "She's still asleep." I knew once I let her out, that's all I'd get done.

Sure, maybe a person can write with a pup nipping at her ankles, eating her baby airplane plants, making a game of shredding her paper trash, but I find that distracting. I've been at the computer for a little over an hour, just like old times, and frankly, it feels good to be back in the saddle. I'm hesitant to leave the computer to take on my new business of dog sitting.

"She'll need to go out soon," my husband said.

"I'll go up and shower while she's sleeping, then take her out," I promised. And I will. But just let me write one more paragraph. It may be the only paragraph I'll get to finish today.