Carolyn Astfalk's Blog, page 46

August 3, 2016

An Open Book

An Open Book CatholicMom


Welcome to the August 2016 edition of An Open Book, hosted both at My Scribbler’s Heart AND CatholicMom.com!

Anne of Green Gables coverI was oblivious to the existence of Anne of Green Gables by L.M. Montgomery until fairly recently. After reading so many beloved remarks about the irrepressible Anne Shirley and learning of some other readers coming to meet Anne well into adulthood, I decided I should read it, too. I grabbed a Focus on the Family radio Radio Theater adaption from our library and listened to it with my children as we ran errands over a week or so. The thirteen-year-old reacted with a certain amount of cynicism, but he was also typically the first child to ask “Can we listen to Anne of Green Gables?” when we got into the minivan. He and my eight-year-old daughter enjoyed it most. I liked it as well, although I think it would’ve made a greater impression had I read it as a young girl. Anne’s spirit and the simple, small-town tales are hard to resist.


Love in the Details coverNovellas are a mixed bag in my mind. Because of their length, they sometimes feel rushed, particularly where romance is concerned. When I find a well-written one, however, it’s a sweet indulgence. I love zipping through a story in a matter of hours. I always enjoy Becky Wade’s contemporary inspirational romances, so I know I’ll enjoy Love in the Details. More than halfway in, I’m missing some of the smart banter and interplay I’m accustomed to in her Porter Family Series, but the writing is still good, and I’m withholding final judgment until the end. She’s set her own bar so high in my estimation, she’s made it hard to meet her own standard.


Homemade Root Beer, Soda & Pop


When we visited the Carnegie Science Center in Pittsburgh last month, my son discovered this book in the gift shop. Because his spending money for souvenirs was limited, he bought the book later from Amazon at a reduced price. I guess watching his dad brew beer has inspired him. So far he’s brewed only a batch of ginger beer, which was fresh and delicious! I think some of the root beers and a lemon-lime soda caught his eye first, but, sweet kid that he is, he chose the ginger beer since he thought it might help relieve the severe sore throat I had at the time. Here’s a review in his own words:


Homemade Root Beer, Soda, and Pop by Stephen Cresswell is a great book for people just beginning to make their own soda. It includes many helpful tips and alternatives to certain equipment. It also gives helpful advice on the process of making the soda and gives tips about choosing your bottles. After you do the basic recipes (root beer and ginger ale) there are many other recipes you can try. If you are tired of the recipes in the book then read a chapter with guidelines and advice for making your own recipes. I recommend this book to anyone interested in making their own sodas; I think that most kids should be able to do it, although some may need adult supervision.”


Treasury of Norse Mythology coverDuring a recent trip to Pittsburgh for a family funeral, my teenager read National Geographic Treasury of Norse Mythology by Donna Jo Napoli. This is something I know NOTHING of. It’s a beautifully illustrated book, and he read through it quickly. His verdict: “Norse mythology is depressing.” That didn’t stop him from retelling various odd myths, including the Norse creation myth, to his younger siblings.


Humbug Witch coverMy eight-year-old is still working her way thought the collection of Narnia books and progressing in the Trixie Belden series with #2, The Red Trailer Mystery by Julie Campbell. The littlest kids have been enjoying the Humbug Witch by Lorna Balian. My crazy three-year-old plucked it from the library shelf despite the fact it’s a Halloween book. Come to think of it, maybe that’s why he’s started asking about trick-or-treat and costumes. I’m not big on witches in general, but this little story of dress-up is cute and innocent enough.




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Want more details on An Open Book? You can also sign up for An Open Book reminder email, which goes out one week before the link-up. No blog? That’s okay. Just tell us what you’re reading in the comment box.



THANKS FOR STOPPING BY! STAY A WHILE AND LOOK AROUND. LEAVE A COMMENT. SHARE WITH A FRIEND. IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU SEE, PLEASE SIGN UP FROM MY AUTHOR NEWSLETTER TO KEEP UP-TO-DATE ON NEW RELEASES, EXTRAS, AND HOT DEALS!



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Published on August 03, 2016 02:30

August 1, 2016

When Nothing Works

by Guest Blogger Erin McCole Cupp

The beginning of another school year approached, and I was scared.  Even with the slowed-down summer schedule, I was not making any headway with my next book. There was virtually no time in which to really write, and when I did get a moment to steal, nothing I wrote worked, because I hadn’t had any time to let the story form in my head so it could flow onto the page.  Where on earth was I going to get the time to have a chance at success?


I went to my writing network’s Facebook page and asked for advice.


“Wake up one hour earlier than your kids do.”


Silly me, already waking up two hours before they did.


“Make family creative time a habitual part of your day! Everyone is working on something.”


When the youngest family member’s idea of “creative” is either decorating her walls with nail polish or asking busy people incessant questions?


“Just do whatever works!”


I didn’t type the words, but I wanted to reply, “BUT NOTHING WORKS!”


With all of my efforts at getting reviews, keeping a blog where I could engage with readers, repeatedly volunteering with a genre writing group so I could maintain good networking contacts, trying (and usually failing) to keep up with social media trends and Amazon wizardry—you know, all the “supposedtas”—alll while trying to homeschool three kids and feed a family of five on a limited budget… nothing was working.


Nothing.


But I kept doing All The Things, because Something had to work Sometime, right? Just keep praying and working really, really, really, REALLY hard…


And then my health took a stress-related dive.


“Just do whatever works?”


What if nothing works?


Just do whatever works? What if nothing works? @ErinMCOP #amwritingTweet This

So I had to give it a try, this Nothing.


I resigned from my volunteering.  I restructured my blogging schedule so that I was only trying to post once a week, using linkups almost exclusively to take the sharing pressure off of myself.  I stopped making myself respond to every email I get within the first three hours of getting it.


Most of all, I looked at all the efforts I’d put into sharing sales of my books on social media in hopes they’d get more reviews and sales, only to find myself out time (and usually money of some sort). Long story short, I noticed that the people with more sales to show for their efforts spend more time on writing than they did on marketing.  They all had backlists. I really don’t.


They are, first of all, writers.  They aren’t review-getters. They aren’t PR professionals.  They aren’t market analysts.  They aren’t consumed with the “supposedtas.” They write.


And I’d been trying to be all those other things—things God apparently didn’t call me to be.  So the time I’d been using to market and drum up reviews and read social media tips… I turned over to God. I turned it over to silence.


And I found myself listening to the early morning sounds of birds singing to each other.


Do you know why birds are loudest in the morning? They’re shouting to others of their species, asking, “Did you survive the night? Did you? You did! Fantastic! Me, too!”


Isn’t that what writing is? Sure, some of us want to change minds and/or save souls… but in the end, that’s God’s job, not mine.  It’s just my job to yell out whatever little song I’ve been given as soon as the dark is past in hopes that I’ll hear back that I’m not the only one who made it through.


There was another lesson waiting for me in the bird song.  Some birds—say, starlings—are abundant.  They’re also annoying in their abundance.  I’ve never had to run for cover from the droppings of a flock of goldfinches flying overhead, because goldfinches aren’t common enough around these parts to flock that way.  And when I do see a male goldfinch or a hummingbird at our feeder, it’s much more exciting than the mass of starlings screaming in the cornfield across the street.


Just because there’s less demand for one kind of song doesn’t detract from its beauty or its place or its need to be heard.


Doing Nothing taught me: make room to listen, be still, do my work. @ErinMCOP #amwritingTweet This

So that’s what Doing Nothing taught me: to make room to listen, to be still, to do my work even if it’s not popular or obviously profitable. And that’s exactly the freedom I needed that all the “supposedtas” stole from me.  The pieces of what I thought was an unsalvageable first draft are coming together with much stronger backstories.


As I was putting this post together, I even came across Exodus 14: 14:


EMCpostExodus1414


And that’s why silence and stillness are so important—not just physically but mentally and spiritually as well.  Thank you, Carolyn, for letting me share my experience here.


Readers, what are some of the “supposedtas” in your life?  Are they helping you or holding you down?  How hard is it for you to let go of them?  What’s one thing you can do today to listen for the other birds in your flock? 


Erin McCole Cupp

Erin McCole Cupp


Erin McCole Cupp is a wife, mother, and lay Dominican who lives with her family of vertebrates somewhere out in the middle of Nowhere, Pennsylvania. Her short writing has appeared in Canticle Magazine, The Catholic Standard and Times, Parents, The Philadelphia City Paper, The White Shoe Irregular, Outer Darkness Magazine, and the newsletter of her children’s playgroup. She is a contributor to CatholicMom.com and has been a guest blogger for the Catholic Writers Guild, and she occasionally blogs about year-round meatless Fridays at Mrs. Mackerelsnapper, OP.  Her other professional experiences include acting, costuming, youth ministry, international scholar advising, and waiting tables.  When Erin is not writing, cooking or parenting, she can be found reading, singing a bit too loudly, sewing for people she loves, gardening in spite of herself, or dragging loved ones to visitors centers at tourist spots around the country. Erin’s books are available on Amazon. Visit her website at http://erinmccolecupp.com.


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Published on August 01, 2016 02:30

July 28, 2016

Small Success Thursday

Small Success Thursday


Why small success? Because that’s the only kind I know! Even the big ones come in small steps. Here’s my paltry offering for the week:



Vacation Bible School – For the first time, my three youngest children all attended our parish’s Vacation Bible School. (My oldest son spent the week at Boy Scout camp.) For a brief moment, I envisioned having fifteen glorious hours to myself in the span of five days. My dreams were quickly snuffed out by my friend’s invitation to help out by organizing the snack craft. So much for alone time. And while I missed out on all the things I thought I’d get done while my kids were at Vacation Bible School, I did enjoy helping. Our youth minister does a fantastic job. It’s well-organized and the kids, including mine, love it! I got to spend time with some interesting little people assembling cookies in a jar and doing all sorts of fun things with blue frosting.

Under the Sea Graham Crackers

Under the Sea Graham Crackers


The funeral – My husband’s father passed away last week, and I’m counting just getting through the week a success. A day after my son and husband returned from Scout camp, we had to travel to the funeral. Getting my three-year-old through the four hours at the funeral parlor proved to be a challenge. I think the noise level drove him buggy. There were several walks around the block before and after the afternoon rain. By the end of the following day, after the final viewing, Mass of Christian Burial, cemetery ceremony, and lunch, we were physically and emotionally spent. Only to have two kids experience middle-of-the-night vomiting episodes. I spent most of the night half asleep with one eye open waiting for another child to succumb. By morning, I was exhausted. Mercifully, the bug was super short-lived and the kids were recovered by sunup. We made it through.
 The aphids– I was so pleased to see on our return home that the yellow aphids had not overtaken our milkweed patch while we were gone. In my husband’s absence the week before, I’d diligently inspected the plants multiple times a day, spraying the pests with an alcohol solution. Looks like at least for now, they’ve abated.

aphids on milkweed

Last year’s aphid attack. We’ve done much better at controlling their population this year.


Menu plan – After weeks of flying by the seat of my pants at dinner time, I hunkered down and planned our menu and grocery list. I’ve been skating by on frozen bags of leftover smoked pulled pork, frozen fish, and having to feed only the little kids and myself at dinner time. That only lasts so long though. Time to get back to planning.
Heart softening – There’s a fine line between over sharing personal matters and being genuine. I like to think I share enough to keep it real without throwing discretion to the wind. I think I can simply say that this year has been a rough one for our marriage, not because of any looming problems or calamitous events. The strain of day-to-day living is the most likely culprit when it comes to our series of small ups and larger downs. Somewhere in the midst of all that’s been going on, I’ve felt my heart softening. That’s a good place to start, and a small but important measure of success.

That’s all I’ve got. Celebrate more small successes over at CatholicMom.com.


Have you had any small successes this week?


THANKS FOR STOPPING BY! STAY A WHILE AND LOOK AROUND. LEAVE A COMMENT. SHARE WITH A FRIEND. IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU SEE, PLEASE SIGN UP FROM MY AUTHOR NEWSLETTER TO KEEP UP-TO-DATE ON NEW RELEASES, EXTRAS, AND HOT DEALS!
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Published on July 28, 2016 05:04

July 25, 2016

When God Says Wait

by Guest Blogger Olivia Folmar Ard

When I was a child, the saying “slow as Christmas” actually meant something to me. For someone with a single digit age, the twelve months passing from Christmas to Christmas might as well be twelve years. I remember how slowly each day passed as I mentally counted down to the blessed holiday from New Year’s Day, spring break, summer vacation, and Thanksgiving.


Even during the month of December, I found it difficult not to squirm. Moving our little stuffed mouse from one day to the next on the cloth Advent calendar hanging on the door was physically agonizing. I couldn’t wait for Christmas and all the joy that day symbolizes, which in that season of my life meant lots of baked goodies, family get-togethers, and more gifts than I knew what to do with.


As I age, “slow as Christmas” means less and less to me. My life is so busy and filled with activity that by the time I pause to check the date, I am astounded by how much time has passed me by. I’m more likely to say, “Christmas again, already?”


But today I feel a kinship with my younger self, a precocious child who thought she knew much more than she actually did. In the middle of what feels like the hottest summer my native Alabama has experienced in years, there is inside me a groaning, a yearning, an unresolved anticipation for the hope that Christmas brings. Once more, I wait for a child.


When God Says WaitMotherhood has not always been my dream. I’ve always found babies adorable and I loved my little brother and sister, but as the quintessential older child I much preferred the company of my books in the quiet solitude of my room to a room filled with younger children. In high school and college, I went through a period of time when I decidedly did not want children. But when I met the man who is now my beloved husband of three and a half years, I almost immediately changed my mind.


We were eager for children right away, but our financial and living situations were not conducive to bringing new lives into the world. When we bought our first home last November, it was with joy that we officially began what we hoped would be a quick season of trying to conceive. We dreamily imagined spending the Christmas season of 2016 with a brand new baby of our own.


But eight months have now passed. The hope of watching our little son or daughter gaze in wide-eyed wonder at the hope and joy that is Christmas lights this year has long since died out. The time between that rather naïve moment of daydreaming and today is filled with empty plastic jars of prenatal vitamins, worn-out lists of possible baby names, and entirely too much money spent on plastic sticks that spelled out what my heart already knew to be true: not pregnant.


Patience is a virtue, and it is not one I naturally possess. I am the one who will volunteer to do a group project by myself if I feel my group members will slow me down. When I have a great birthday gift for my husband, I can’t wait so I can give it to him on the allotted day—I have to give it to him now. How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Roll pop? Ask someone else. So you can imagine how I have reacted to this relatively short period of waiting and uncertainty.


I will admit, God’s silence on this matter has brought me to anger. It has brought me to tears. And yesterday, when I received yet another confirmation that my womb remains empty, I descended into both. After my husband left for work, I collapsed on my bed and, sobbing, I cried out in despair.



“Do you hear me?” I asked silently, unable even to speak. “Are you listening?”

And—perhaps since this was the first time I have asked Him a direct question—He finally answered me.


It was not an answer I wanted.


It was not yes. It was not no. It was what I least wanted to hear.


“Are you listening to me?” He whispered in my heart, still gentle despite my rage. “I would not have given you a mother’s heart only to deny you the chance to be a mother. Hold on. Trust me. You, like all of my people, simply have to wait.


Growing up, Lent and Advent were foreign to me. I didn’t participate in either until my family joined a United Methodist congregation when I was in the tenth grade. As a teenager, even more impatient than I am now, I didn’t understand these seasons. Why were we expected to go through these periods of fasting and quiet mourning for the promise that has already been fulfilled?


But now, as I think back over the blessings I’ve received in my twenty-five years of life, I am beginning to understand.


After puberty, I waited seven years for my first boyfriend and my first kiss. Both were fulfilled with the man I married. At the time, it seemed like forever. Now, it seems like nothing.


After I graduated college, I waited six months to find a job that would provide good benefits for myself and my new husband. At the time, it seemed like forever. Now, it seems like nothing.


After we married, we waited two and a half years to save up and buy a house. At the time, it seemed like forever. Now, it seems like nothing.


Sarah was an elderly woman before her promised son was born. Noah and his family waited out on the ark for forty days and forty nights. Jacob waited (and worked) for his beloved wife Rachel for fourteen years. The Israelites waited for freedom from slavery for four hundred years, and freedom from the desert for forty more. Caleb waited forty-five years to claim the land God had promised him. Humanity waited for thousands of years for the appearance of our Savior. And now, we spend thousands more as we await His second return.


To our God, waiting is important. I don’t pretend to know why. @oliviadeard #patience #waitingTweet This

To our God, waiting is important. I don’t pretend to know why. But what I do know is that I’m in good company, and that the evidence shows that our God is faithful. He upholds His promises when His people are faithful in return. So I will rejoice in this period of waiting, and to paraphrase one of my characters, when I am tempted to fear, I will instead rush headlong into His love. Because no matter how slowly Christmas approaches, it always comes on time.


Olivia Folmer Ard headshot

Olivia Folmar Ard


Olivia Folmar Ard is a secretary, grad student, loving wife, and devoted Christian. Her new adult women’s fiction trilogy The Bennett Series addresses issues facing today’s generation while adhering to timeless moral principles. She and her husband live in central Alabama, where they attend Valleydale Baptist Church.


Connect with Olivia


Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/OliviaFolmarArd.author


Twitter, Instagram, and Pinterest: @oliviadeard


Website and Blog: http://oliviafolmarard.weebly.com/


 


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Published on July 25, 2016 02:30

July 20, 2016

#5Faves: Book Covers

5 Faves


Five of my favorite book covers in recent memory, in alphabetical order.



–1–


Falling Like Snowflakes

Falling Like Snowflakes by Denise HunterThe snow, the red, that almost kiss. Falling Like Snowflakes by Denise Hunter.


–2–


The Marshall Plan

The Marshall Plan by Olivia Folmar ARdLight and life and an invitation to walk through the door. The Marshall Plan by Olivia Folmar Ard.


–3–


Roland West, Loner

Roland West, LonerThe silhouette amidst the trees captures Roland’s loneliness. Roland West, Loner by Theresa Linden.


–4–


Soulless Creatures

Soulless CreaturesSmart, fun, and bright. Soulless Creatures by Katharine Grubb.


–5–


Unclaimed

Unclaimed by Erin McCole CuppEvocative, mysterious, and futuristic. Unclaimed by Erin McCole Cupp.


 ###



For more Five Favorites The Koala Mom and babyStylista, visit .



Which of these book covers is your favorite?




Thanks for stopping by! Stay a while and look around. Leave a comment. Share with a friend. If you like what you see, please sign up from my author newsletter to keep up-to-date on new releases, extras, and hot deals!

 




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Published on July 20, 2016 02:30

July 18, 2016

Catholic Lit Mad Libs

So, what to do when you’ve got to come up with a last-minute blog post? When you’ve handed over blogging responsibility for the summer? When your brain is beat from heat? Mad Libs.


 



 


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Published on July 18, 2016 02:30

July 14, 2016

Re-Envision Jane Eyre TODAY with Unclaimed

The Unclaimed Virtual Book Tour stops HERE today!


Unclaimed by Erin McCole Cupp

Unclaimed by Erin McCole Cupp

Born not in a past of corsets and bonnets but into a future of cloning and bioterror, could Jane Eyre survive? This Jane is an “unclaimed embryo,” the living mistake of a reproductive rights center–or so her foster family tells her. At age ten she is sold into slavery as a data mule, and she must fight for freedom and identity in a world mired between bioscientific progress and the religions that fear it.


Jane Eyre does not need to be updated.  It needs to be read and re-read and treasured for its timelessness.  But too often, the people of a world obsessed with progress refuse to remember the wisdom of the past.  Sometimes, an author must dress the eighteenth century in futuristic salawar kameez to remind the present day that the human story never changes. Whether in Georgian England or the global community of a technocratic future, there will always be orphans who can teach the rest of us how to love, if we will only take the time to learn.  This is the reason we need books like Unclaimed.”


–  Karen Ullo, author of Jennifer the Damned



Erin McCole Cupp

Erin McCole Cupp


You can read my “official” review below, but do you want to know my honest thoughts when I read Unclaimed?


They ran something along the lines of, “My author friends are so out of my league.” Meaning, basically, that Erin McCole Cupp displays a spark of creativity and a depth of knowledge from which its borne that left me dumbstruck. I’m not sure if working with classic-level source material makes the job easier or more difficult, but Erin makes it look effortless. Like watching a stellar athlete or an exquisite dancer or a polished musician, you become lost in the performance, stopping only on occasion to marvel at what you’ve witnessed.



Unclaimed: The Memoirs of Jane E, Friendless OrphanUnclaimed: The Memoirs of Jane E, Friendless Orphan by Erin McCole Cupp

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


If you needed proof that Jane Eyre by Chariotte Bronte is a timeless classic, Unclaimed: The Memoirs of Jane E, Friendless Orphan—Book 1 is it.


Erin McCole Cupp expertly re-imagines Jane as among America’s least wanted in the near future: an unclaimed embryo brought to life but unloved then laboring anonymously half a world away from home.


Interestingly, Jane’s hidden existence in a quasi school/sweatshop extends beyond merely weaving textiles, but hidden messages as well. Her only solace is the companionship of the ill Aidann, whose backstory is also modernized, and the compassion of her instructor Bhenji Nealingson.


Unclaimed takes the dear reader to Jane’s first encounter with her absentee employer Mr. Thorne in his fortress beneath the American desert.


Jane Eyre has long been a favorite of mine, and I enjoyed the first part of this retelling immensely. While appealing to the modern reader’s ear, it remains faithful to the truth of the original, even retaining the charm and tone of Bronte’s voice.


Faithful to the truth of the original, even retaining the charm and tone of Bronte’s voice. Unclaimed Tweet This

You do not, however, have to have read Jane Eyre to enjoy Jane_E. Much like the character herself, chin lifted high, it can stand on its own.



THANKS FOR STOPPING BY! STAY A WHILE AND LOOK AROUND. LEAVE A COMMENT. SHARE WITH A FRIEND. IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU SEE, PLEASE SIGN UP FROM MY AUTHOR NEWSLETTER TO KEEP UP-TO-DATE ON NEW RELEASES, EXTRAS, AND HOT DEALS!
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Published on July 14, 2016 02:30

July 11, 2016

Do the Next Thing God Asks You to Do

by Guest Blogger Billie Jauss

Over my life, which at this point has spanned nearly half a century, I have taken on many roles. I grew up the baby of a large, blended family. At a young age, I knew I wanted to be a nurse and fulfilled that dream when I graduated from college and landed my dream job as a critical care nurse. Then the role as wife and mother took over my full-time gig as a nurse. My hubby is a Major League Baseball coach, so for 29 seasons I have been a baseball wife. However, no role ever confused me as much as the role I find myself entering in my empty nest. A writer.


In 2005, I wrote my first devotional for Baseball Chapel, an organization that provides Christian services and Bible studies for the men and women in baseball. I wrote over ten devotions a year for many years, yet I never considered myself a writer.


I had very interesting conversations over the years relating to my writing. Once a prophetic pastor told me God wanted me to write a book. Again, a pastor told me God was calling me to write. Another woman urged me to pursue God’s calling on my life to write. I also had other people tell me, “not always are pastors prophetic,” “not everything that people ‘pray’ over me isn’t from God,” and “you know that other girl over there was told she would write a book too and that was years ago and no book.” It seemed for every positive encouragement, someone was always there with a negative one. Myself being the most negative of all. Yet, I prayed. I prayed for God’s guidance, for His lead. Write was what I heard.


In 2014, a friend whom I knew from one of the 14 cities in the US I’ve lived in, was writing a book called How to Write a Novel in Ten Minutes a DayI was intrigued. I contacted her and asked a few questions. Those few questions led to me being one of her test group as she finished her book. Her book was an amazing way to walk through the process of planning, scheduling and writing a novel.


I also learned a few things, during the testing of the chapters of her book, that neither she nor I was expecting.


1.    I should have listened in school when teachers were trying to teach me to write.


2.    I had a lot to learn about the process of writing.


3.    Writing takes a lot of time and energy that I didn’t know if I had.


4.    What was I thinking when I thought I could write anything other than devotions?


5.    I could start a blog and stick to writing once a week.


6.    I am NOT a fiction writer.


Some of those were based on fear and some on complete realization. Either way, I continued to pursue my urging from God to write. My blog posts were semi-consistent, I began to take writing more seriously, and I signed up for my first writer’s conference. I still didn’t consider myself a writer. Yet, I prayed. I prayed for His guidance, for His lead. He led me on. Write was what I heard.


tree with quote


Prepping for the writer’s conference was more than I thought I could accomplish. I prayed that the Lord would show me if this was a pipe dream, an unrealistic desire to continue to write, to write a book. The book proposal finished and in hand, I attended the conference. There I was introduced to the evil ‘P’ word: platform. “How many subscribers do you have on your blog?” How many followers on Facebook and Twitter?” Followed by, “ You need to grow your platform.” “Build an audience.” “Better your writing.” There were so many new things I learned at the conference and so many negative emotions. Should I stop writing? Yet, I prayed. I prayed for God’s guidance, for His lead. He led me on. Write was what I heard. Do the next thing.


I prayed for God’s guidance, for His lead. He led me on. Write was what I heard. Do the next thing.Tweet This

So many times in the past I had not listened and obeyed God’s calling on my life. I would write for a while then stop believing the lies that I wasn’t smart enough, valuable enough, interesting enough, talented enough to be a writer. After that conference, I felt an overwhelming pull from God. He was pulling me into the right places where I needed to be. I felt Him asking me to do the next thing. The next thing, not the entire to-do list to build my platform, not the push to get my name out, not filling pages with words that wouldn’t impact women for God. Do the next thing.


So I did. I did the next thing. One by one I did the next thing. My platform didn’t grow to record numbers. My blog posts did not go viral. My name is not on any best-selling list. I did the next thing.


I committed to posting on my blog each Monday. I have been consistent. I signed up for Compel, a monthly membership community that equips writers with the tools and skills to hone their craft and write words that move people and have bettered my writing. I signed up for my second writer’s conference and had amazing opportunities to learn from great writers. I committed to reworking my book proposal for that conference and was able to meet with agents and publishers. I did the next thing. At that conference in March, the Lord again asked me to do the next thing. Speak aloud that I am a writer. He released me to open up in a way I had not felt ready to do. I did the next thing.



I am a writer.

An agent and a publisher asked for my book proposal after meeting with them. I had heard many stories about how one is asked for a proposal and only to be met again with ‘you need to build your platform.’ I had experienced it at my first conference. I was paralyzed once I came home. Paralyzed with the fear of hearing ‘no’ once again. Yet, I prayed. I prayed for God’s guidance, for His lead. He led me on. Write was what I heard. Do the next thing.


The next thing I did . . . write. I worked on my book proposal once again. With all the knowledge gained over the past year and the week at the latest conference, I attacked it with fresh knowledge. As a confessed writer, I attacked it with fresh confidence. I did the next thing.


This new role of writing has not been one blessing after another, and it has not been without tears and fears, but I continued to do the next thing. The revised book proposal was sent to the agent and publisher with much prayer and shaking knees. I pressed the send button on an email to each of them. I heard nothing. Yet, I prayed. I prayed for God’s guidance, for His lead. He led me on. Write was what I heard. Do the next thing.


The next thing was to write. Write my blog. Boost my Facebook posts. Build my following one task at a time. I booked speaking engagements and felt encouraged by the response to the messages. Do the next thing. During all of the time of writing and blogging and speaking, life continued to happen. My baby boy playing baseball as a freshman in college, our middle son working while trying to get into medical school and failing for the second time, our oldest working and playing baseball in Germany. Another baseball season, in a city different than our permanent home; packing, moving, driving, and traveling. Life continued to happen. Do the next thing. Each day I would do the next thing.


The next thing on a Tuesday was to write, then go to another baseball game. It was the 14th in a row for the hubby’s team. After he left to go to work I checked my email. To my dismay, there was a response from the publisher. They had reviewed my proposal and wanted to move forward. My heart raced, my palms became sweaty. What do I do? A call to the hubby, a few squeals of delight and a bounce around the apartment, then an honest question of, what do I do? I had no idea. I had educated myself on a book proposal and the pitch but what do I do when a publisher wants to “move forward?” I reached out to some more seasoned writing friends and asked, what to do? Even with some very heartfelt and educated responses, my thoughts were racing faster than my heart. Yet, I prayed. I prayed for God’s guidance, for His lead. He led me on. Write was what I heard. Do the next thing.


The next thing was an email to the publisher and an email to the agent informing her of the desire of the publishing house to “move forward.” Was this really happening? It was. It is.


All because I did the next thing God asked me to do.


Pray.


Write.


Do the next thing.


What is God asking you to do? Can you do the next thing, not getting lost in the big picture? You know that other woman I told you about who had been prayed over and told she was going to write a book? Yeah, she recently had over 5,000 downloads of her three published books! She just did the next thing.


Billie Jauss

Billie Jauss


I would love for you to join me on my journey by signing up to receive my monthly newsletter by visiting my website at www.billiejauss.com.


You can find me on Facebook (Billie Jauss Writer, Speaker, Encourager), Twitter (@billiejauss) and Instagram (billie_jauss).


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Published on July 11, 2016 02:30

July 8, 2016

Seven Quick Takes

Seven Quick Takes Friday


Gettysburg Edition

We spent several hours last weekend in Gettysburg. It’s one of my favorite places, so much so that I set my novel Stay With Me there. As many times as we’ve visited, I know I haven’t scratched the surface of the many things to see and do there. A quaint town, steeped in history and tragedy, it’s blanketed in a palpable gravitas that is hard to describe. And yet, it’s also fun. Here are seven of my favorite places to go, things to do if  you visit Gettysburg – and I recommend that you do.


–1–
The Battlefield

Aside from the many monuments scattered across the battlefield boundaries, the terrain itself is interesting. Our favorite spots are Devil’s Den, Little Roundtop, and Big Roundtop. The boulders, the view. Its natural beauty stands in stark contrast to the human carnage that these hills and rocks witnessed. The new visitor center at the National Military Park is also fun and informative.


Devil's Den, Gettysburg

Devil’s Den



 –2–
Dobbin House Tavern

My husband and I have shared many enjoyable meals at The Dobbin House. I love dining in the cellar of this historic tavern, established in 1776. The building also served as a stop on the Underground Railroad, and you can view a small space that was used to hide escaped slaves.


–3–


Downtown Shopping District

A walking tour of the downtown area is a great way to peruse the local shops and orient yourself to the town’s role in the battle. Enjoy good food, alcoholic beverages, quaint shops, tourist traps, and more along the main streets of Gettysburg. You may want to stop at Reid’s Orchard and Winery Tasting Room and sample a flight of hard ciders in the rear of the building under a patio umbrella.


Reid's Orchard & Winery Tasting Room

Reid’s Orchard & Winery Tasting Room


–4–


Field Hospital Sites

Many, many buildings in town were converted to field hospitals to house the casualties following the epic American battle. One of my favorites is St. Francix Xavier Church, where St. Elizabeth Ann Seton’s Sisters of Charity tended to wounded soldiers from both sides of the confrontation.


Plaque outside St. Francis Xavier Church, Gettysburg

Plaque outside St. Francis Xavier Church, Gettysburg


–5–


Ghost Tours

When my husband and I began visiting Gettysburg in the late 1990s, ghost tours were a novelty. Now they are a veritable cottage industry in Gettysburg. We avoid the séances and tours with occult overtones, favoring the tales and tours directed by historian and former battlefield guide Mark Nesbitt. We’ve experienced a couple of odd, perhaps paranormal,experiences on the battlefield and in town, but the local lore is fun and fascinating.


–6–


Horse Tour

Horseback is a wonderful way to view the battlefield. For many years, we camped at Artillery Ridge Campground, where the National Riding Stables are located. It’s there I had my one and (thus far) only horseback experience. Despite the fact that my gentle mare suffered from a bladder infection, I thoroughly enjoyed this adventure.


–7–


Mr. G’s

Nearly every one of our visits to Gettysburg is topped with a decadent, cold treat, and none compare to the homemade ice cream offered at Mr. G’s Ice Cream. It’s delicious! Just go.


Mr. G's Ice Cream

Mr. G’s Ice Cream


Have you visited Gettysburg? What local attractions would you recommend?


###


For more Quick Takes, visit This Ain’t the Lyceum.



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Published on July 08, 2016 02:30

July 6, 2016

An Open Book

An Open Book CatholicMom


Welcome to the July 2016 edition of An Open Book, hosted both at My Scribbler’s Heart AND CatholicMom.com!

The Art of Work by Jeff GoinsAlmost from the time we began dating in 1993, my husband has been searching for his vocational niche. In the course of his off and on search/discernment of what he should be doing, he’s read a variety of books on the subject. This is one I bought for him last year. I opted to add the audiobook to the discounted ebook, and he’s been going back and forth between the two using Whispersync for Voice. You can see The Art of Work: A Proven Path for Discovering What You Were Meant to Do by Jeff Goins has some pretty impressive Amazon ratings: 4.7 with 566 reviews. As someone who floundered around until absolutely forced to declare a college major, I see the value in this type of book. According to Michael, in some cases it is about finding your life’s calling rather than merely a job. In other cases, it may have specific vocational applications.


No One Wants to Read Your Sh*t by Stephen PressfieldI have a virtual pile of promised reviews and beta reads ahead of me this month, but I’m squeaking in a quick writing-craft read: No One Wants to Read Your Sh*t: Why That Is And What You Can Do About It by Stephen Pressfield. As you may guess from the title, a language warning comes with this one. It’s an easy, engaging read, and I’m taking away some useful pointers on constructing a novel. The author’s The War of Art has been on my to-be-read list for a long time. I even checked it out of the library once, but didn’t get to it. Maybe later this summer.


Sunflowers in a Hurricane by Anne FayeOnce I zip through that book, it’s on to Sunflowers in a Hurricane by Anne Faye. I enjoyed The Rose Ring by the same author, and I’m looking forward to reading and reviewing this inspirational fiction as well. The flowers on the cover alone make me happy, especially since many of the sprouts from the seeds my daughter planted have been eaten by an unknown critter.


Unclaimed by Erin McCole CuppI’d be remiss if I didn’t mention a book I read this spring which releases TODAY: Unclaimed: The Memoirs of Jane E, Friendless Orphan by Erin McCole Cupp. Unclaimed is the first book in a series of three. It’s a sci-fi/steampunk retelling of the classic Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte. Tonight is the Facebook Book Release Party at 7:30 EDT. I’ll be there! Please stop by and learn more about my friend Erin’s fabulous book. I’ll be posting more about it at My Scribbler’s Heart on next week. Here’s a snippet of my review: “Jane Eyre has long been a favorite of mine, and I enjoyed the first part of this retelling immensely. While appealing to the modern reader’s ear, it remains faithful to the truth of the original, even retaining the charm and tone of Bronte’s voice.”


The House of the Scorpion by Nancy FarmerFor his summer reading assignment, my teenager has chosen to read The House of the Scorpion by Jane Farmer. This is his first foray into dystopian fiction. He read huge chunks of the book on our recent trip across the state, engrossed enough to choose reading over watching a Star Wars LEGO program with the other kids. At least for a while. The book includes some bioethical issues, and we’ve already had some discussions about the morality of human cloning and destroying human embryos and fetuses for their parts.


Trixie Belden by Julie CampbellMy newest avid reader, my soon-to-be third grader, is still traveling through Narnia. She took a break, however, to read The Secret of the Mansion (Trixie Belden Book 1) by Julie Campbell. I had completely forgotten about the fictional Trixie Belden’s existence until I saw it mentioned on Reading Is My Superpower, my favorite book blog. I promptly requested it from the library with the hope my daughter would like it, and she did! She’s participating in the library’s Chewsy Reader summer program for children her age. Each week, they share lunch and discuss what they’re reading. She’s eager to take Trixie along next time. I recall liking young sleuth Trixie more than Nancy Drew, but it’s been so long now, it’s hard to remember. My daughter recommends it for both mystery lovers and horse lovers.


Fox in Socks by Dr. SeussI’ve been exercising my tongue by reading Fox in Socks by Dr. Seuss aloud to my littlest children. My youngest yanked it from the library bookshelf and added it to our stack, so home it came. I think  this must be good for my brain or my eye-tongue coordination or something. I certainly hope so, because this endless series of progressively more challenging tongue twisters is taxing on my weary, old, mom brain. I’m not a huge fan of Dr. Seuss, but this one I like quite well despite the torturous oral contortions it demands.




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Published on July 06, 2016 02:30