Lisa J. Crane's Blog

It's "Just" Romance ... or Is It?

Okay, after spending a lot of time reading about a certain romance author (I'm not naming her here, because her 15 minutes of fame should be beyond OVER ) I'm weighing in on the topic. Because here's the thing:

She's wrong.

Everything about her actions is wrong, from filing for a trademark on a commonly-used word, to sending cease and desist letters demanding other authors change the names of their books (some of which were published before hers), to convincing Amazon to remove said books AND reviews--REVIEWS, PEOPLE!--containing the word in question, all the way up to her refusal to admit her error, apologize, and relinquish the trademark. Wrong.

And there are a lot of people out there laughing about it, saying things like, "The romance authors are in a tizzy over nothing." One journalist actually said romance writers are arguing over "trivial" things. Trivial? Is it trivial because it's "just" romance?

And why is romance any less legitimate a book genre than any of the others? Why is it less respectable than fantasy? Or action with its improbably skilled-knowledgeable-athletic spies and cops and its 38-24-36 damsels in distress? But I digress.

The point is, as both an author and a reader, I find this whole situation concerning. If an author can trademark a common word, what's to keep other authors from trademarking words? Love. Sweet. Summer. Forever. Christmas. All words frequently used in romance titles.

But it's just romance, right? ... Is it?

What about words like, oh, I don't know ... space? Time. Travel. Galaxy. Star. Dragon. Pirate.

Or what about murder? Killer. Spy. Thief. Mystery.

See where I'm going?

So if you thought this was just a bunch of silly romance authors getting their feathers ruffled over nothing ... think again. What about musicians? Artists who title their works? Screenwriters. Bloggers. See?

It's so much more than a "trivial" argument. So if you see anything about this situation surrounding this cocky author, speak up. Defend your favorite writer's right to use any word he or she chooses in the title of their books, blogs, songs, plays ... well, you get the idea.

First Days

For the past seventeen years, I've had a first day of school. Oh, I had them before that, but now I have them with my kids. I've gone from buying glue sticks and fat Crayons to $75 parking stickers and skinny jeans. (Yes, the parking sticker stings a bit.)

Over the years I've blogged about the first day of school. The fact this is the first blog I've written since the last first day of school should tell you something about my commitment to blogging. But it should also tell you how important the first day of school is to me.

Why is it so important?

Here's why: The first day of school holds promise unlike any other school day. The promise of reconnecting with old friends. Making new friends. New adventures. And my personal favorite, new knowledge.

But each of those things can also be a little scary. Old friends change. Finding new friends can be a challenge, even in a sea of over 2,000 students. New adventures sometimes bring problems (any time I get lost, I tell my kids we're on an adventure). And new knowledge? Well, I think we've all learned a lot of things we'd rather not know recently, haven't we?

So this year, I have a word for my daughter, who'll be a junior in high school, and my son, who'll be taking classes at the county college. It's a pretty important word. Are you ready for it?

Kindness.

Yep. That's it.

I want my children to experience kindness every single day. I want people to love them both as much as I do. Their humor, their intelligence, their sense of right and wrong, all of it. I want people to see them as I do and to treat them with kindness.

Sadly, I know that may not always happen. There will always be a jerk or a mean girl. There will always be a teacher or professor who doesn't see what I see when my kids speak or who's just having a bad day. And there will always be anger and hatred.

And again, I have a word for my kids.

Kindness.

I pray for my kids to respond to everyone with kindness. Respond to impatience with kindness. Respond to anger with kindness. Answer ignorance and hatred with kindness.

And I'm not talking about the idea of "kill with kindness." In fact, I'm not even sure that phrase has the same meaning it did when Mr. Shakespeare first wrote it. For our society, the phrase has taken on a darker meaning. Too often today, the saying means, "I'm going to be so nice to you, it's going to make you feel horrible."

Instead, I want my children to be kind to everyone they meet because it's what God wants. The apostle Paul wrote to the church in Colossae to "Put on ... kindness ..." (Colossians 3:12). I want my kids to wear their kindness in such a way others see it plainly.

So my prayer for this first day of school is that my children--and yours--experience kindness on all sides of the equation. I pray they cling to kindness in an unkind world. Because a little kindness can go a long way. Or as Solomon, in his wisdom, wrote, "A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger." (Proverbs 15:1)

Let's all be kind this year.

What I'd Say to You

Tomorrow is the first day of school for most of the kids around here, including my own #AmazingAmazon, Chloe. Some of the anxiety has already begun, though. Actually, some of it started the first week of August. Will I have lunch with any of my friends? Will I like my classes and teachers? Will it be a good school year? What if I don't have any friends?

So for all the kids who will be starting school (or already have, yikes), I have some things I want to say to you. Things I'd say if you were my child. You see, I know you don't listen to your parents sometimes. I know that because my kids don't always listen to me. And, um, I didn't always listen to my parents. It goes something like this: You're my mom/dad. You have to say I'm smart/handsome/funny/pretty/talented.

Right? Come on, you know you've said that.

So, in no particular order, here is what I'd say to you if you were my child.

Stop comparing yourself to others. There is always going to be someone who is prettier than you. There will always be a better athlete. Someone in your class is going to be smarter than you. Better skin, better hair, bigger muscles, better at singing, basketball, football, painting, WHATEVER! So the way I see it, you have two choices. You choose to let the knowledge that you may not be the best, prettiest, strongest drag you down so low that you just quit. Or you choose to go ahead and do your very best at whatever it is you want to be the best at. And then you stop worrying about it.

Don't worry about what other people think. So many reasons behind this statement. First and foremost, because in ten years (or less!), most of the people you see every day at school won't matter to you. Really. Go ask your dad about his high school classmates. See how many of them he thinks about on a daily basis. See? I was right, wasn't I?

Another side of the Other People's Opinion coin is, who are you trying to impress? In my thoughts, and what I've tried to teach my kids, the One you need to impress most is God. After that, the only thing that should concern you with other people is, "Do they think I'm a person of good character?" Honesty, integrity, compassion, these things far outweigh the brand of jeans you wear or the kind of music you listen to or what neighborhood you live in (especially since you have no control over where your parents make you live).

So again, be the best person, the best human being you can be. And then stop worrying about what others think.

Stand up for your faith. If people give you a hard time about something you do (hello, church on Sunday night, really?) or don't do (oh, come on, there's nothing wrong with those shorts), your answer is short and simple. "I'm a Christian. I believe this is how God wants me to live." If they don't get it, not your problem. You stay true to your faith. And then you don't worry about them.

Stand up for yourself ... and others. Never, ever, ever let a bully go unchallenged. Sometimes, it only takes one person to stand up to a creep to give others the courage to stand up, too. You be that one. People will learn that you're the kind of person who will stand up for what's right, and they'll stand with you. And then you don't worry about the creeps of this world.

Choose to have a great year. Seek out people who are like you. Find people who encourage you to be the best person you can be in all things. Odds are good if you like them, they'll like you, too. Cultivate those friendships. And don't worry about people who don't like you, who try to make you feel small, who try to make you feel anything less than the great kid you are.

And finally, even though I'm your Mom, remember that you truly are a pretty amazing kid. Because I'm your Mom, and I say so.

So there you have it. What I'd say to you if you were my child. Have a great year.

Take off Your Church Face

Galatians 6:2 tells us to "... bear one another's burdens ..." I realize this verse, in its context, is talking about sin and temptation. Speaking personally, I'm most susceptible, most vulnerable to temptation when I'm tired and sick, whether it's physical or spiritual illness. When I'm down and discouraged. Worn by the daily cares we all face. Weary.

The knowledge that I have a Christian family just waiting to lift me up, to support me, to bear my burdens, is a tremendous source of comfort.

Recently, while shopping with my husband and daughter, we ran into someone from church. My husband saw her first, and he asked me, "Isn't that insert name of sister in Christ here ?" I turned and looked at the woman in question, then turned back to Charles and said, rather emphatically, "No." We stood there for a half-beat, each of us looking at the other as if he/she had lost their mind. We both turned again and stared at the woman, who hadn't seen us yet. Then we stared at each other some more, puzzled looks on our faces.

"Is it her?" I really couldn't tell.

"I thought it was her." Charles narrowed his eyes (because squinty eyes helps, right?).

This woman wasn't doing anything un-Christian. She wasn't dressed immodestly. She wasn't out with some man she's not married to. Nope. Nothing even remotely questionable. So why couldn't we decide whether or not it was her?

Because she wasn't wearing her Church Face!

Do you know the face I'm talking about? Do you have the face I'm talking about?

It's that face you wear to church. The one that says to the congregation and the world, "I'm fine. I have no problems in my life. My marriage is perfect, my children are angels, and my house is spotless. My job is everything I've ever dreamed it wold be. Life is awesome. Every single day. Awesome." Yes. That face.

If your life is all of the above, 24/7, bless you. Stop reading now, and go enjoy your existence. But if you're reading this while hearing a washing machine making an unexpected noise, or sitting next to a mountain of laundry, or wondering how you'll make your rent payment this month, or whatever is wearing you down right at this moment ... you aren't alone. Take a breath.

Take off your Church Face.

Let me see your hurt. Show me the huge burden you're dragging. Open the closet and let tumble out what will. Let me see your face. If I can't see you--the real you--I can't help. I don't even know how to pray for you.

The woman we saw that day, but weren't sure we saw? Her Church Face is a sweetly pleasant smile. But the face she wore that day, not knowing we saw, was one of past hurts and bitterness. It was a face of anger, much older than her years. She wore a face that has burdens.

Take off your Church Face.

Let me carry your burdens. Let me hold you up and support you. Let me pray specifically for you. Let me love you.

Shoes and Empathy

Kind of a play on words there. Tea and sympathy, shoes and empathy.

I've always said, if I don't teach my children any other trait, I want them to learn empathy. I want them to consider--truly consider--what it's like to wear the shoes of another. To walk their path, to live their life, to feel their pain.

Earlier this week ... wait. Back up. Earlier this year, my daughter told me about a young lady who'd begun to eat lunch with her and her friends. There was a specific reason this newcomer joined them, but none of the other girls really liked her. They all find her, in a word, annoying. I mean, really, really annoying.

Now we're back to earlier this week. My daughter, who is normally very compassionate, told me about one of her friends telling this young lady, in essence, "I have two weeks of school left, and I don't want to spend it with you. Go eat somewhere else." Now if someone had said that to me at that age, I'd have popped off with something like, "Too bad. I like this table." But this young lady responded with something along the lines of, "It's okay. Everybody hates me."

It's okay. Everybody hates me.

Have you ever heard a more heart-breaking statement? From anyone, much less a 13-year old?

Coco and I talked about this at length. The way I see it, one of two things is happening here.

First, either the girl is sensitive enough to realize people don't like her, but not socially skilled enough to understand why. Or second, she's sharp enough to understand why, but doesn't care, and her statement is more a play for sympathy than anything else.

sigh

My daughter is fourteen years old. I don't control her every action. But if I could control this situation, she'd have spoken up when the first girl told the other one to go away. Or she'd have gone to the annoying one and said, "Let's talk about this. You seem to believe everyone hates you. Why do you think that is?" And proceed from there. But I can't force that (I suppose I could, but it wouldn't be genuine).

Counting today, these young ladies have 4 1/2 days of school left. Four lunch periods. Four opportunities to make a difference. I'm praying one of them will step up.

I'm hoping I'll have a followup to this blog.

At Loose Ends

Let's get this out of the way. I've written before that I'm the world's most unreliable blogger. I write a flurry of blogs for weeks, even months at a time, then nothing. Okay, so, blah, blah, blah, and now we're moving on.

I just finished--as in Sunday afternoon--writing "Love's Aim." I read the last chapter and epilogue out loud yesterday afternoon, made minor changes, and now I'm just waiting to take them to crit group before handing the manuscript over to a handful of beta readers. So yes, I'm at loose ends.

That's not to say I'm not working on things. I'm still in the very slow process of editing and revising most of my previously published work. And I'm working on a Christmas story--some of you will have read it, but it's going to be included in a collection of novellas that will be published this fall. The writer spear-heading the compilation is none other than the multi-award winning Lena Nelson Dooley. There are other award winners in there, too. I'm pretty excited about it, and I think y'all will love it.

But you want to hear something crazy? Well, it's crazy to me, anyway. I'm considering writing something in a whole new genre. A really interesting magazine article was recently given to me with the instructions that it's time for me to step away from romance. When I finished pitching a fit worthy of a toddler told, "No more candy" and picked myself up off the floor, this individual told me the story needed to be written, and he thought I was the person to write it. So I'm still praying over it. I want to do it justice.

In the meantime ... I come home from work (yes, I got an actual office job), sit down in front of my tablet, fingers poised ... and nothing. I remember that I'm pretty much done with Finn and Josie's story. That's always kind of a bittersweet place. I mean, I've grown to care about these imaginary people in this fictional town, and then I feel as if I'm just moving away from old friends. Just packing up and leaving town, as it were.

So that's where I am in a nutshell. Between works, a little melancholy, a little uncertain about this other work--not because I don't want to do it, but because it's so very different from writing romance, which is pretty much second nature.

So what's happening in your world?

Terrific Tuesday: Holding my Breath

I finished my Christmas story. Finally. This one had about a million different versions, starts and stops, fits and frazzles (I made that last one up, but it works). Then one day last week, after praying very specifically about this, it was like a curtain pulled back, and I could see my story. I whipped it out in a few days. Last night, I sent my newest darling off to some guinea pigs ... er, beta readers. Now I'm just holding my breath, waiting on their thumbs up or thumbs down.

While we wait, I'll tell you a little about My Santa, My Elf. (Even the name was easy on this one. I'm taking that as a good sign.)

Piper Greene returned home from Dallas when her father died. Her mother is understandably lonely, so Piper remains in the completely fictional town of Silver Star, Texas. She takes a job working in housewares in the also completely fictional Hardesty's Department Store.

In my mind's eye, when that curtain was swept back, I could see an old-fashioned department store. The kind of store my mother took me to when I was a little girl. A store with several floors. They carry everything imaginable, but not cheap and tacky, like a big box store. No, this store carries things for everyone. Overalls for a grizzled farmer, designer dresses for the well-to-do trophy wife, you name it. There's even a nice restaurant.

This particular store is family owned, and has a tradition of setting up Santa's Village on the first floor. They don't charge for photographs with Santa, which makes them very popular. The store is a town landmark and a family legacy to the Hardestys.

Jensen Hardesty is set to take the reins of the store when his Pops, Randall "Hardy" Hardesty retires. But Pops wants to make sure Jensen is ready. The Hardesty CEOs have always taken a hands-on approach to business, and Pops has decided this is his grandson's year to play Santa in the village.

Dagmar, aka the Dragon Lady, recruits Piper into replacing the previous elf, who broke her leg in a skiing accident. Jensen decides it's time to forego his self-imposed restriction on dating employees. He has two weeks to work in close proximity to Piper. Two weeks to convince her to be his elf on a more permanent basis.

Of course there's a bit of drama, a lot of humor, a snarky other woman, but if you want to know how it works out, you'll have to read it yourself. I'm already preparing myself for the reviewers who complain that it's too short or too predictable. But as I always say, isn't a good romance supposed to end up in a happy ever after?

My Santa, My Elf is expected to release on Thursday, December 12, 2014.

Thankful Thursday: Unexpected Blessings

In the Bible class I've been in at church, we've been studying prayer. We've read and talked about several prayers throughout the Bible. It's been a great experience, hearing the thoughts and practices of others. I was excited enough when the class first started that I blogged about it. See? Right here.

But I've discovered a blessing from this class that's been completely unexpected on my part. As many of you know, I have prayed about my writing in the past. It's one of the things on my daily prayer list. I ask for God's blessings on my efforts, for success, for continued ability and ideas. I especially ask for Him to bless my writing so that I might reach other people for Him. And I know He hears those prayers, and has answered them. Ideas rattle around my head nearly 24/7. Emails tell me my words are touching people.

But I wrote a scene last week that caught me off guard. As I was reading the chapter out loud in preparation for tonight's critique group (shout out!), I realized something. I'd written a whole scene using some of the thoughts we've discussed in Bible class. Thoughts about the power of God to answer our prayers, no matter how big or small. Thoughts about praying for something when others may be praying for the exact opposite. Thoughts about paying attention and recognizing that God will always do what's best for His children, even if we don't understand--or agree--at the time.

This reminds me that whatever talent I have is a gift. It's on loan from Him. And it reaffirms my belief that I'm supposed to be using that gift to reach others.

So there you go. Unexpected benefits of Bible study. Not just that prayer makes me a better writer, but that understanding prayer makes me a better writer. Hearing the thoughts of others on prayer makes me a better storyteller. And figuring this out makes me thankful on this Thursday.

Terrific Tuesday: Adventures in Jury Duty

If you're my friend on Facebook, you may know some of the things I'm going to share with you today. If you're not my friend on Facebook, you're totally missing out on the fun.

Anyway, I was summoned for jury duty yesterday morning. I was called for a jury and told to come back this morning. Lots of waiting for buses and trains to take me to and fro, and it was stupid cold (for Texas). Low 30s with gusty winds, and in downtown Fort Worth, the effect seems to be amplified. (Fun fact: Did you know, historically, Cowtown is actually windier than Chicago, the Windy City?)

I thought I'd share with you a few things I saw and/or heard over the past two mornings. These are in no particular order. Here we go.

- An older woman dressed to the nines on the bus. When I say dressed to the nines, I mean she would've looked more at home in the back of a chauffeur-driven Mercedes. Very petite, she appeared a bit fragile, and I couldn't help wondering where she was going dressed so nicely. Kind of a poignant moment.

- Flirty train employee. When I say flirty, I mean he was flirting with me. I had at least fifteen years on the guy. Saw him both days. Flirty both days. Called out, "Lisa! Take care!" when I got off the train back in Hurst, prompting his coworkers to all ask, "Who is she? Do you know her?"

- "Guess I picked the wrong day to do a colon cleanse."

- Man on the train wearing olive-green ultra-suede slacks.

- Man on bus wearing tan-on-tan stripe velvet slacks.

- "Your socks don't match." Random snooty woman next to me in the security line at the courthouse.

- "I knew that! I would've guessed you're an author! Really! You look like an author!" The man who said this was very excited, hence the exclamation points. I gave him one of my cards for his wife. And no, I have no idea what an author looks like. Windblown curls, black boots, black sweater, black bomber jacket, mismatched earrings, hot pink infinity scarf ... maybe it was the tats that gave me away.

- "Snort. We spend all this money for people to waste their time, and the criminals are all guilty as sin! Then we send them to jail and pay for them to have three squares, a cot, a gym, cable, and a lot of other things I can't afford!" Said by a smallish woman who looked like someone's sweet little grandma. Technically she was correct; criminals are guilty. However, if I'm ever mistakenly accused of a crime, I'd be terrified for her to be on the jury.

- Also from Sweet Grandma: "Why doesn't she shut up so we can hear them call our names? How are we supposed to hear anything with her yapping? I just want my check so I can leave, but I can't get it if I can't hear my name, can I?" The "she" in question was the jury bailiff, who was instructing today's new victims ... I mean potential jurors in what to do. As luck would have it, Grandma missed her name because she was yapping about the justice system, the government, you name it.

- Will you be overly surprised if I tell you Grandma was also a raging bigot? No? I thought not.

- Observation: Headphones, books, and staring at one's phone (i.e., reading, texting, etc.) mean absolutely nothing to some people. Nothing. It is not a subtle signal that the bearer of said headphones, book, or phone does not wish to talk. Who knew?

So there you go. My random adventures in the Tarrant County judicial system.

Oh! Almost forgot. The defendant in the case for which I was called was a no-show, so I was dismissed. So until next time--hopefully several years from now--hope you enjoyed this as much as I did. *Cue sarcastic laughter.*

Faboo Friday: What's Important?

My name is Lisa, and I'm a romance author. Yep. It's what I do. I write fluffy, feel-good chick-lit, and I'm pretty proud of that, actually. I'm a good storyteller, and I'm becoming a better writer with each published work. Is my writing going to change the world? Hmm. Doubtful. Oh, don't get me wrong. I get emails on a fairly regular basis telling me how much one of my books moved someone, or reminded them of God's love, or gave them hope about something. So yes, I might change a few lives, but the world? Probably not.

But in reading headlines over the past few days, I find myself wondering, "What's important to people?" I'm truly baffled that a woman whose claim to fame is her ungodly lifestyle is higher on all the What's Trending lists than the fact that a robot landed on a comet. A robot landed on a comet. Let that sink in for a minute. Really think about it.

How many brilliant minds do you suppose it took to accomplish that comet landing? And yet, in our society, the naked rear-end of a silly, vapid, vacuous woman made for bigger headlines than that comet-landing robot. What is wrong with us?

It really saddens me to witness where we've come, and to imagine where we're going. It disturbs me to wonder what's important to us, and why.

Midway through the month of November--the month of thanksgiving, if you will--I challenge you to take a few minutes and think about what's important. Have we stooped so low that a naked behind is more important than an amazing feat of science and technology?

I pray that's not the case.