For My Grandma

I love my grandparents. And my grandma has been lovingly asking for a sample of my writing for quite some time. So I decided the easiest way to share would be here. That way the rest of you can see something creative I’ve written. This is a short story I wrote for a class earlier this year. Enjoy!

*****

To Have Loved and Lost

            Someone was using my chest as a punching bag.

            It seemed crazy, but as far as I could tell, it was the only thing that made the slightest bit of sense. I was being hit in the same spot, with the same force, at a steady rate. There was a short pause and the pounding started again. When I figured out who was doing this to me, I was going to . . .well, I like to think that I’d give as good as I was getting, but to be honest, I’d likely yell a bit and break down in tears. Again, the thudding stopped for a few seconds and resumed.

            What on Earth is happening to me? I thought frantically. This time when the thumping stopped, I felt something pinch my nose and pressure on my face. Oh, I realized, someone is giving me CPR. You know, that makes a lot more sense than magically being turned into a. . . OH MY GOD!!! Why is someone giving me CPR?! What happened? I started to panic, but couldn’t. After all, when a person panics, her heart races and she starts hyperventilating. I was obviously unable to do either of those things.

            Okay, focus Janet. What is the last thing you remember doing? I thought back. Today was Friday. At least, I hoped it was still Friday. I had gone home after work and called my best friend, Kelly. We were both excited about something. What was it? We had recently been on a shopping trip and she was telling me to wear the new blue dress because Scott would love it. That was it! I had finally agreed to go out with Scott earlier this week and the date was for Friday night. Oh, I hope I didn’t collapse in front of Scott. I remember Scott picking me up and driving me to. . . a local bar. His brother’s band was playing. As the memories grew clearer, I felt my heart begin to beat faintly and a wisp of air tickled my lungs into breathing on their own. I began to feel the pain of someone pushing on my chest repeatedly. My eyes opened fractionally and I saw Scott’s face hovering over me. Then I passed out.

            When I woke up again, I was in the hospital room. I looked around at the familiar, sterile surroundings. I turned my head to look out the window and was slightly comforted by the sight of the river.

            “At least they got the outfit right,” I murmured, smiling at the neon green hospital gown. Bright colors helped me stay optimistic.

            “Janet?” a voice asked. “Are you awake?”

            I turned away from the window to the seat on my left. I wasn’t used to seeing anyone in it, but today it was occupied, although only barely. Scott was practically falling out of the chair as he leaned forward in concern. I sighed. I really didn’t want to worry about him. I was saved from explanations by the arrival of the doctor.

            “Hello, Janet. I’m glad to see you awake,” he said.

            “This is Dr. Gregson, Janet,” Scott said. I didn’t bother to tell him that I knew Dr. Gregson very well. Dr. Gregson looked at me and I shook her head in response to his silent question.

            Dr. Gregson turned to Scott. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave for a few minutes, Scott. I have a few things to discuss with Janet. You can wait right outside the room if you’d like.” Scott nodded, but left rather reluctantly. I gave him a reassuring smile.

            “I’m happy you have a boyfriend, Janet, but why haven’t you told him about your heart?” Dr. Gregson said sternly. I knew he meant well.

            “He’s not my boyfriend,” I explained. “Not really. Tonight was our first date. At least, Friday was. What day is it?”

            “It’s Sunday morning. You’ve been through quite a bit.”

            “What happened?” I asked.

            “Your heart gave out. I think the medication has stopped working. Scott gave you CPR until help arrived, which saved your life. However, it may have further damaged your heart. We won’t know for sure until we run some more tests. Serena is on duty right now; let her know if you need anything, okay?”

            I nodded distractedly as he left. Scott came back in. “What’s the verdict?” he asked lightly.

            “My heart gave out,” I said frankly. It was time to be completely honest with him. “Scott, there’s a reason I kept turning you down for all those months when you asked me out. I have a heart condition. One of the valves in my heart doesn’t work properly; it never has. I’ve spent a lot of time in this hospital room over the years. I’ve had multiple heart surgeries. Dr. Gregson thinks that my medicine has stopped working. I don’t know what will happen next; there may be some new experimental drug to try or he may want to do more surgery. Or there might be nothing he can do. Scott, I’m going to be in the hospital for a while. You don’t need to feel responsible for me. You can go home.”

            “But if I hadn’t taken you out to that bar-“ he started.

            “Then I would have been home alone when it happened,” I interrupted. “And I would have died.”

            Scott sighed. “I don’t feel responsible, or obligated, or anything like that, but I want you to know that I will come to visit you as often as I can. I care about you Janet, and I want to help you beat this thing.”

            I didn’t disagree, as I figured after a few days he would tire of visiting and stop coming. I was wrong. Three weeks later, Scott was still coming to see me almost every day. He entertained me with stories of his childhood and family. I absorbed them like water. I grew up alone; earing about his family made me feel like I was a part of it. The time passed with some minor improvements in my health, but Dr. Gregson began to smile less when he came to see me.

            “Unless a miracle happens, Janet, I don’t think you’ll leave the hospital again,” he said sadly one day. I nodded. I had expected as much, but that didn’t make it any easier to hear. That night was a rough one. I had long ago resigned myself to an early death. I was an orphan. I was leaving no one behind. Now I had something I wanted to live for. I was in love with Scott. And I was sure he felt the same way about me.

            “How did you sleep?” Tina, another nurse, asked the next morning.

            “Not well,” I said. “I was Jacob last night, wrestling with God.”

            “I thought he wrestled an angel,” Tina said as she checked the various monitors. “What were you wrestling with, dear?”

            “I don’t want to die, Tina. I thought I was ready, but I’m not. I want to live for a long time. I want to get married and have a family, to see the world, to be happy and sad. I just want to be.” I started crying. Tina sat on the bed next to me and gathered me into a hug. She rubbed my back gently, not saying anything. There was nothing to say. We both knew I was dying. By that afternoon, I had accepted it. Scott could tell something was different as soon as he walked in.

            “What’s wrong?” he asked.

            “Scott, I don’t think you should visit me anymore,” I said gently. I didn’t want to put him through more heartache. I should have made him stop coming long ago, but I enjoyed his visits so much, I selfishly took as many as I could have.

            “Why?” he asked. “Has something happened? Is it too stressful for you?”

            “No, it’s not that.”

            “Then what is it?”

            “I’m not going to leave this hospital again, Scott. You have a life; go live it.”

            Scott turned to stand by the window, his back to me. I tried not to cry again.

            “’It is better to have loved and lost. . . .’” The words were so soft, I almost missed them.

            “What?”

            “I won’t let you die alone.”

            “Scott, please-“

            “Janet, I love you. I know you don’t want me to, but I do. Please, let me spend time with you while I can.”

            “Okay,” I whispered, tears in my eyes. He sat on the bed next to me and wrapped his arms around me. I laid my head on his chest, listening to his strong heartbeat, so unlike mine. I felt my eyes drifting shut. There was nothing I could do to stop them. I knew that it wasn’t sleep coming over me. I looked up at Scott for the last time.

            “I love you too.” Then, darkness. 

*****

Until next time, fellow wonderers!

Let Gravity Go

I can’t guarantee how coherent this post will be, but there have been a few thoughts floating around in my head the past few days. Mostly, I’ve been thinking about the striking similarities between the songs “Let It Go” and “Defying Gravity”. This was sparked by recently listening to the Frozen soundtrack and soon after hearing my sister and her friend singing “Defying Gravity”.

Both songs are originally sung by the same person, the incredible Idina Menzel. They are moments of empowerment for her characters, Elsa and Elphaba. The two have incredible magical gifts that they have been struggling to understand. They have decided to embrace the part of themselves that they have been denying. That’s when the songs become very different.

“Let It Go” is Elsa breaking off from society. She has decided that she can no longer conceal her powers and that her only option is to isolate herself so she doesn’t hurt anyone. A noble idea, but it’s always rubbed me the wrong way that she immediately assumes that in order to be herself, she can’t be around others. Though, in her defense, she did accidentally hurt her sister as a child with her powers. 

Elphaba, on the other hand, defies the world as well as gravity. She is tired of people pushing and shaping her into what they want and decides to pursue her own happiness, even if it means the disapproval of others. Granted, she does go a little overboard, daring anyone to try to stop her and stating that no one could. But she doesn’t care what anyone thinks anymore.

Personally, I’d like to be like Elphaba, but if I had to be honest, I’m probably more like Elsa. What about you?

Until next time, fellow wonderers!

Friends are Good

I know. It’s an obvious statement. Let me rephrase it: writer friends are essential for a writer. And I don’t think that just holds true for writers. I firmly believe that whatever your passion is, you will only benefit from having close friends who share that passion. 

This has been on my mind a lot this summer, mostly due to my isolation from my writing friends after being surrounded by them for a school year. And as much as I love my friends and family, I can’t sit with them in near silence for hours and write, or comfortably discuss the best way to conceal weapons within ballgowns without raising concern. And yes, those are situations I have been in and enjoyed with writer friends. 

I can clearly remember one of the first experiences I had with other writers at Taylor. There was a group of us, talking about a book series. I can’t even remember what it was, but there was one clear thought in my mind. These people speak my language. I’m not the only one. 

There is something so special about finding people who see the world through the same rose-tinted lens as you. You can relate to those people on a profound level. 

I’m not saying your only friends should be those who ‘speak your language’. In fact, sometimes you need a break from your normal way of thinking, a challenge to your mind. But there are also times that you need to figure out a problem in your plot that only a writer could understand. 

Q&A #2

And I’m back! Today, I bring you a Q&A. This will be an interesting one: all the questions were supplied by one of my closest friends, Julie. She gave me some fun questions and hopefully you’ll learn a little more about me.

Where does your inspiration come from? That’s a good one. If I knew, I wouldn’t lose it so often. But seriously, I find that the best way to be inspired is to be well-grounded in my faith.

Do you have a favorite superhero? If so, who and why? Well, I came into the superhero scene a little late, so I can’t say I have a favorite. Plus, I have too many friends with different opinions, I’d be scared to offend them. 

What are your thoughts on the combination of magic and Christianity in books? Two of my favorite authors are C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien. Does that answer the question?

Are trees alive? Alive, yes. Trees grow. Capable of thought and/or emotion? Who can say.

Do you think there is intelligent life in the universe that does not exist on planet Earth? I think it’s possible. 

Cats, dogs, or goldfish? Umm…I’ve only ever had a goldfish, but I think I’d rather have a cat or dog than a fish. I don’t know which I prefer though.

Do you trust everything scientists tell you? I always try to form my own opinions. So I take under consideration what other people say, but I prefer to research and come to my own conclusions.

Who was the last author you read? I just finished rereading Shannon Hale’s The Princess Academy. Also, I recently watched the movie Austenland, based on another of her books. I highly recommend anything she’s written. 

Which Disney princess do you associate yourself with? I don’t know. I’d say that I have high ambitions like Ariel, a love of reading like Belle, insecurities like Elsa, and awkward social skills like Anna. I should probably also compare myself to Mulan, since I played her in a musical once (fun fact!). We’re both pretty independent.

If money were not an issue, where would you travel? Well, I’d definitely go back to Ireland. I spent a semester studying there and loved it! I’d also love to visit Greece, France, pretty much anywhere in Europe. Oh, and Australia! That would be awesome. Essentially, I’d just like to travel the world.

Well, that’s all for now! Now you know me a little more. Answer one of the questions in the comment section below so I can get to know you better!

Baring My Soul

“Oh, you’re a writer. Are you writing a book? What’s it about?”

I get asked these questions a lot. They are often followed by “Can I read it?” and “Am I in your book?”. People are curious about my experience as a writer. While I do appreciate their interest, let me just say: 

I hate these questions. So much. 

I suppose that’s because a) I’m an introvert and b) I invest a lot of myself in my writing, so sharing it with others often feels like I’m revealing a deep part of me. In the past, I’ve hedged with answers like “Well, I’m still trying to figure that out”, “It’s really too long and complicated to explain right now”, or “I’ve got a few ideas floating around”. While I was at a writer’s conference earlier this month, I had to explain my story to editors and agents. It was hard, but it made me realize that I need to get comfortable talking about my writing with other people. So I decided to start here, with my blog and faithful readers. 

I’ve got a few projects in my mind, but the one I’m focusing on is a fantasy novel, hopefully one of a series of 5. Each one of the books is based on a fairy tale. The first one is Cinderella. The main character is Lady Lucinda Westerfield, or Lucy. She is 19 years old and about to inherit her deceased mother’s estate and wealth. Her father, who has been managing the money, desperately wants to keep control of it and Lucy is shocked to find how far he will go. If she can stay free from his control until her 20th birthday, she will be free to live her life as she chooses. But in a world where everyone has a magical gift, Lucy fears that if anyone knew what gift she possesses, people will seek to control her. She has to learn who to trust with herself, and even her heart. 

That’s the basic premise. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go hide in a corner and pretend I didn’t just share that with the internet.

Make Everyone Happy

It’s summer and for a lot of us, that means Vacation Bible School. For the past few days, I’ve been corralling about a dozen preschoolers for two and a half hours. Because of that, I’ve been privy to the little gems that are constantly falling out of the mouths of those bundles of energy. As you might expect, among the hilarious and nonsensical are small treasures of wisdom and insight.
We were having snacks yesterday and one little boy indignantly declared that we had forgotten to pray before we ate. He volunteered to do so and began right away. I couldn’t understand everything he was saying, but I caught one thing that stuck.
“Please make everyone happy.”
It’s a simple request, but it got me thinking. When was the last time I prayed for someone else’s happiness? I don’t know about you, but I tend to be rather selfish in my prayers. Sure, if someone asks me to pray for them or someone they know, I’ll do it, but even then it’s more for healing or peace then happiness.
I challenge you, and myself, to make an effort to pray the simple prayer of a child: “Make everyone happy.” Then go out and try to be the one that makes others happy.
What’s the wisest, or funniest, thing you’ve heard a kid say? Comment below and share their words.

Plot Vs. Character

This post is aimed more towards my fellow writers. I have been absolutely riveted the past few days by the most helpful book in the world (and that’s only a slight exaggeration). Friends, if you haven’t read this book, go buy it. If you’ve read it but don’t own it, go buy it. I’m serious.

The book is called Plot vs. Character and is written by Jeff Gerke. I picked it up at a recent writer’s conference after an editor recommended it to me. Let me just say. Wow. I swear that book could read my mind. It centers on the idea that all writers naturally come up with stories one of two ways; they either dream up compelling characters or exciting plots. You probably know which one you are. And chances are, you’re not so good with the other. I’ll admit, I’m awesome at character development. Plot, not so much.

Gerke literally walks you through the process of developing both. It’s a wonderful exercise in writing and you finish the book (if you do it correctly) with a wealth of information for your story. It’s not just a book of theories or ideas. He has you writing character monologues and drawing plot maps. If you take the time and put in the effort, you will have intriguing characters and intricate plots. 

The funniest part of the book (besides the dry humor it’s written with) is that in actuality, plot and character are very closely tied. More so than you would think. After all, a book is just the story of the main character’s inner journey. And the external events are the stage upon which that journey is set. 

I won’t often promote writing books here because there are so many. Also, there’s no right way to write; you just do it. But this book was so helpful, I had to give it a post. Just ask my family. My nose has been deeply planted in this book for the past three days. And now that I’ve finished reading it, I’m going through it again with a specific story to work on. I highly encourage all you writers to at least look through it if you get the chance.

Even though I won’t promote writing books here often, I’m always on the lookout for more! Comment below and let me know what the most helpful, or entertaining, writing book has been for you!

Plotters and Pantsers

One of the questions I get most often as a writer is “Are you a plotter or a pantser?” I was actually thinking about answering this in my recent Q&A, but I realized that this question begs an explanation. So for those of you who haven’t heard of these terms, here’s a quick explanation.

Plotters: Plotters are, as the name implies, writers who extensively plot out their stories. They plan nearly every detail before they begin writing and stick to it. They can change their plan, but try their best to get it right the first time so they don’t have to rework the plot later.

Pantsers: The word pantsers comes from way some writers have been described as writing by the seat of their pants. They don’t plan extensively; in fact, some don’t even know how the story will end, or even what is going to happen. They just start writing and let their characters dictate the story.

Most writers aren’t either extreme. They tend to write with a mix of plotting and pantsing. I personally tend to lean a little more toward plotting, but I try to keep it to the major events. I like to leave the smaller details to develop on their own. That way, I’m able discover new things while writing, but I also have a goal to push toward when I get stuck somewhere.

Some Fatherly Advice

For as long as I can remember, my dad would send my sisters and I off to school with the same words.

“Have a good day. I love you. Shine.”

This ritual began after Dad overheard a rather heated argument about what should be the last thing you tell your kids before they go to school. The thought stuck with him and he decided that he wanted my sisters and I to know three things everyday.

1. Have a good day. The choice to have a good day is ours. In my dad’s words, “if you’re a grumpus-shlumpus, you’re going to have a bad day.” 

2. I love you. This is pretty obvious. Dad wanted each of us to understand that regardless of what was happening, he loved us. 

3. Shine. This comes from Matthew 5: 14-16. Jesus is in the middle of his Sermon on the Mount and he instructs his followers to let their light shine. My dad wanted to encourage us to let the light of Christ shine in us and through us. 

So, what’s the best advice your dad has given you? Comment below and share the wisdom.