Lucinda Moebius's Blog, page 7

The Handmaid

One of God's commands to Adam and Eve was to go forth and populate the Earth.  It always amazed me to read the chapters of Genesis and see how the world went from being populated by two people to multiple nations in just the few generations mentioned in those pages.  No matter what theory you have on how the Earth became populated we do know it started with one couple and their strands of DNA.

One of my favorite stories in Genesis is of the Handmaid Hagar.  Here was a young girl who was given to Abraham as a surrogate since Sarah, his beloved wife, couldn't have children.  Hagar was the celebrated mother who gave birth to Abraham's son.  This child was just as precious as the child, Isaac, borne to him later by Sarah, the wife given to him by the Lord.

At the celebration of Isaac's circumcision (I know, who would celebrate that?) Sarah saw the son of Hagar mocking her baby.  Scholars argue Sarah's motives at this point.  Was Sarah jealous of Hagar and the role she had as the mother of Abraham's eldest son? Did she see a threat to her own child's right of inheritance?  Was she angry at the boy's treatment of her own son?  At this point her motivation really didn't matter.  Sarah commanded her husband to exile the woman and her child.

At first Abraham didn't want to send this woman out into the desert.  The Lord had a plan, though.  After all, Hagar's son was a child of the covenant.  He had a role in populating the Earth as well.  The Lord promised Abraham he would fulfill his promise to Hagar and protect her and the child.  So, with a bottle of water and a loaf of bread Hagar headed out into the desert.

Hagar soon became lost and the desert took its toll on both her and her son.  Not knowing what else to do she placed her son under a bush and walked away so she wouldn't have to see him die.  What a tearing choice for any mother.  While she sat under a tree contemplating her own mortality an angel appeared to her.  The angel pointed to a fountain of water magically springing from the earth.  Hagar and her child were saved.

We don't hear much mre about the handmaid and her child, but we do know that just like Isaac, Hagar's son inherited land in the Middle East.  He also married and had sons. In fact, he had twelve sons, just like his half-brother Isaac.  His tribes occupied the same territory as Isaac's descendants.  We are well aware of the wars in the territories in the Middle East.  The tribes of Abraham and Isaac were not the first to  people fight over this land and they won't be the last. 

The tradition of the Handmaid or the concubine isn't unique to the Old Testament, it is a story that begins with the first stories of mankind and has now taken a modern twist with surrogacy, in vitro and artificial insemination.  Perhaps you will see this theme in my writing?

Welcome 2012

 It's the end of the world as we know it!

OK, OK maybe not.

As far as I can tell the world is pretty much moving along the way it always has.  I woke up this morning, made breakfast and went into my office to work.  I now have a home office all set up where I can do all my necessary work.  So, maybe it is the end of the world as I know it.  I can now go to my happy place, away from the distractions of husband and animals, at least until I hear the gentle tap of my husband requesting entrance into my little haven or the cat or dog scratching at the door looking for love or food.

Oh well, it's the thought that counts.

Now for the New Year's resolutions.  This year I am going to blog more, finish my doctorate, work on my books and lose the final 32 pounds that will bring me down to my goal weight.

Are those good resolutions? I don't know, I rarely make resolutions and I never keep them.  All I know is I have a lot happening in my life right now and I need to keep my goals foremost in my mind. 

Here is to having a happy and productive 2012.  Remember to live your life as if the world is ending tomorrow but realize out actions follow us into whatever life we head into for our next existence.

Sunrise

This morning, on my way to work, I was running a few minutes late.  I can't stand being late and the administration has made it very clear they expect us to be on time every day.  Usually when I start my days this way I become very stressed and I have a hard time focusing.  Today I had a very different feeling.  I couldn't figure out why I was so calm.

It wasn't until I neared the school that I happened to glance over my shoulder and see the glorious sunrise.  The sky was almost a translucent blue and the soft clouds were painted the beautiful orange-red you almost never find in an artist pallet.   I was reminded of the times I sat with my Grandmother, watching the sun rise or set over the horizon.  Those times are some of the best memories of my childhood.

The sun's constant circle reminds us to cherish each moment, love the little things, and find beauty in the world.  I paused for a few moments when I got out of my car, just to take in the peaceful beauty of the morning.  we should all be so lucky.

Update on Raven's Song

Raven's Song is n the hands of the proofreaders.  I have given the story a rest for a couple of weeks and am now ready to attempt another read through.  One of the problems I had with Echoes of Savanna was I never gave it a rest.  I would read through the story, edit, end it to the publisher and then start reading through it again.  This time I am giving at least a week between edit sessions.  I'm hoping by doing this I will not grow tired of the story.

In addition to editing Raven's Song I am also working on the next novel in the series.  This novel, Lakota's Strength is slowly coming together.   When I first started writing this story the only novel I had in mind was Raven's.  I imagined her character and knew I loved her desperately.  All through the writing o Echoes of Savanna I couldn't wait to start Raven's Song.  You would think I would be sad to see the story end, but I can't wait to put it out there for people to read.  I also am starting to feel the same passion for her son, Lakota, as I did for Savanna and Raven.  I look forward to seeing how his story comes to life under my pen.

Just to tease the readers a little bit, here is the prologue to Raven's Song:

And ye shall hear of wars and rumors of wars: see that ye be not troubled: for all these things must come to pass, but the end is not yet. For nation shall rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom: and there shall be famines, and pestilences, and earthquakes, in divers places. All these are the beginning of sorrows.

Matthew 24: 6-8

 

Idaho Book Extravagaza

How great was this weekend! I had the opportunity to join my fellow artist as we discussed the future of writing and publishing.  We discussed so many different topics it's hard to wrap my head around all the information I gleaned from this conference.  I attended a number of different workshops on a variety of topics. 

One of the most important things I learned was effective use of social media.  Growing up in the "me" generation, I started using computers as a teenager, when personal computers were a new fad and floppy disks were really floppy.  Many children, who are now the same age I was when our family received their first computer, have actually never seen a floppy disk and have no idea what one even looks like.  Now, I am part of the internet generation and am posting to social media like crazy: Blog posts, facebook, twitter, Goodreads, even youtube has a video I created.  In less than a generation my world and who and what I can influence has grown beyond anything I could ever imagine.

One of the best lessons I learned was from a presentation about marketing.  Corey A. Smith taught me the single best way to market is to tell stories.  This advice really struck a chord with me.  I enjoyed listening to Corey tell his stories.  I am looking forward to reading his book  Do It Right: A CEO's Guide to Web Strategy and discovering ways to market myself.

I realize as I write this the message and send it out on-line it will  be posted on a public forum and it's possible thousands, if not millions, of people could see it.  In what day and age could this even be possible, except now in the computer age.  I love the Internet and all of its double-edged sword. 

I don't know which part of the weekend I enjoyed the most: meeting cool new authors, attending workshops or receiving my Idaho Top 50 Author Award.  Iknow I am looking forward to next year and all the lessons I still need to learn.

 

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim

Because it was grassy and wanted wear,

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I marked the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

I love this poem.  I think Robert Frost says it all.  There are times I take the road less traveled just to see if I can find something no one else has seen.  This is all the inspiration I need today.

And the story starts:

The door was slightly ajar, just enough that she could see the darkness behind it.  The light behind her could not penetrate the darkness. Slowly, step by step, she approached the door.  Her shoes were making soft swishing noise against the harsh wood under her feet.

Reaching ahead slightly she put her hand against the door.  Strange, the door felt slightly warm beneath her fingers.  A cool breath of air brushed against her skin, causing her to shiver, almost mocking the warmth of the door.  Leaning forward she pushed against the door, causing it to swing open….

What happens next?

Penelope

It's no great secret that I have an undying passion for Greek Literature.  I love Mythology in all of its forms.  So, today I will write about one of the greatest women in the history of Greek literature.  Today we will talk about the Great Penelope.

What makes Penelope so Great?  There are so many women springing from Greek Literature, why would I choose her?

Before I answer that, let me tell you a little bit about this woman.  Penelope is the wife of Odysseus, the great hero of the Trojan War.  It was Odysseus who developed the plan for the Trojan Horse.  It was Odysseus wh tricked the Trojans into opening their gates to the invading Greek army.  It was Odysseus who ended the Trojan War.

But, I digress.  This post is about Penelope, not her husband.  Everyone knows the Trojan war lasted ten years.  Penelope was a young, beautiful Queen at the beginning of the war.  The day the Greeks came for Odysseus and forced him to go to Troy, she gave birth to her first, and only, child, Telemachus.  From the moment of his birth Telemachus was used as a weapon against his father.  You see, Odysseus was known for his guile and intelligence.  This young King did not want to leave his wife and newborn child so he decided he would pretend to be crazy.  Odysseus hooked up his plow and moved to his fields.  He claimed to be sowing wheat, but he was casting salt into the ground.  The Kings of Greece all gathered around Odysseus and tried to tell him they needed to join them in battle.  Odysseus ignored the Kings and blissfully walked his fields throwing sterilizing salt into the fertile soil.  One King realized Odysseus could be trying to fool them into thinking he was crazy.  He decided to test Odysseus.  So I want you to imagine this moment:  The Kings went into the chambers where young Penelope had just given birth and took the infant from her arms.  These Kings placed the newborn Prince in the path of Odysseus' plow.  If Odysseus was really insane, he would drive over his son.  If he was pretending he would go around the babe.  Could you imagine the absolute horror and sense of powerlessness young Penelope was feeling at that moment.  She had to watch these men test her husband with her young son.  Fortunately, Odysseus was wise enough to avoid his son and he was conscripted into the war.

Penelope, like many of the Greek Queens of the islands, was left to tend her husband's lands for the ten years he was gone.  She had the charge of raising a good Greek Warrior without the influence of a father.  Eventually, the war ended and the Greeks began their voyage home.

All of the Greek Kings had their struggles getting home.  Each one had done something to offend the Gods during the course of the Trojan War and they had to perform some task to prove they were worthy to go home and rule their lands.  Most of the Kings were able to make it home within a few months of the end of the war.  Only Odysseus was left to wander the seas for an additional ten years.  The story of Odysseus has been told many times, so I will not relay his adventures here.  After all, this story is about Penelope.

Faithful Penelope.  The Queen of the Ithacans was left to care for the kingdom for an additional ten years.  She was left alone to tend to the lands, command the servants and to raise a son.  This would have been fine, if it wasn't for the suitors.  You see, a few years went by and when Odysseus didn't return home many people assumed he was dead.  The Kings of all the surrounding islands realized there was a beautiful,young Queen just one island over just pining for a husband.  These Kings sent their sons, if they did not go themselves, to vie for the Queen's hand in marriage.

Penelope did not believe her husband was dead.  In fact, she was very angry at this brash, young suitors to call uninvited to her shores.  Her greatest desire was to send them all on their way, maybe with a few of Apollo's bow shots at their heels.  The only problem with doing this was it was bad manners to send your guests away.  If she chased them off her shores the Kings would then have an excuse to attack her kingdom and force her to marry one of them.  So, Penelope did the only thing she could.  She took a clue from her sly husband and tricked the suitors.

Penelope told the suitors she had one more task to complete in the name of her husband before she would be free to marry.  Her husband's father, Laertes, was getting old.  She was afraid he was going to die soon and it was her responsibility to ensure he was properly buried in a shroud fit for a King.   Penelope set up her huge loom in the main chamber and made a big show of weaving the massive blanket tined to wrap the body of the King.  She wouldn't let anyone help her; it was her job and her job alone.  What the suitors didn't know was Penelope would sneak in at night and unweave the work she had done during the day.  For three years she deceived the suitors.  In the fourth year Penelope was betrayed.  Her maids, the women who were supposed to care for her and help her in her tasks, were slinking off to spend their nights in the beds of the suitors.  These women caught her in her deception and carried the tale to the suitors.  This betrayal forced Penelope to finish the shroud.

Penelope wasn't finished, though.  The day she finished the shroud she had

another challenge for the men who dreamed of ruling Ithaca.  Penelope pulled a long bow from the mantle and presented it to the suitors.  She

announced that the man who could string the bow and shoot an arrow through twelve axe handles could take Odysseus' place at his throne, and in his bed.  The funny thing about this challenge was she neglected to tell the men the bow was created for Odysseus, cut to his height, balanced

for his weight and strength, oh, and the bow was made specifically made for him by the Goddess Athena.  By taking this bow down she was telling all of these men, all of these contenders, or pretenders, to the throne that they were not worthy to take her husband's place as King of Ithaca.

Finally, we learn Odysseus did make it home.  He returned, disguised as a beggar, in time to participate in the contest.  Odysseus not only strung the bow and shot the arrow through the axe handles, but he did it sitting down.  At first the suitors were stunned.  They couldn't believe this

upstart beggar had bested them.  But Odysseus had another surprise in store for these men who had invaded his home and tried to steal his Queen.  Odysseus turned his skill with the bow and the sword on the suitors and, with the help of his now grown son and two faithful servants, cut down every one of the suitors where they stood.

Penelope had one more test for her husband.  As he stood before her,

waiting for her to respond, she silently stared at the stranger standing in the midst of the carnage.  When Odysseus became frustrated with her lack of welcome, he called for a bed to be made up in a chamber separate from his cold-hearted wife.  This was the opening Penelope was waiting for. Calling to her maid, she ordered her to remove the bed from her chambers

and make it up with the finest linens in the house.  This was too much for Odysseus.  How dare anyone move HIS bed?  This is the bed he made with his own hands.  The base of a bed was an Olive tree he had cut and planed with his own hands and inlaid with gold, silver and ivory.  He laid the foundation, a web work of red-dyed ox hide and soft linens.

No one, not even a God could pry this bed from its deep-rooted

home.  This was the only sign Penelope needed.  Her faithfulness had paid

off.  Her husband was finally home.  Odysseus was able to take his place as

rightful King of Ithaca because faithful Penelope had kept his land in

trust.  Is there any reason to doubt why I love Penelope?

Guest Post for Random Saturday

Positions of Power

A video circulating on Facebook left me a little rattled this week.  It was lamenting the absence of women in positions of "power".  Don't get me wrong, I'm not against women in politics, or executive offices, or Supreme Court benches.  I just don't think any of those positions are 'true' seats of power and I don't think women's lack of desire to participate in such male-designed and male-dominated institutions is at all a bad thing.

Women do not need to sit in domed rooms and listen to hours of gibberish and play political backroom games in order to have influence in our society and our world.

After all, we were not dominating the political scene when we gained our

right to vote, equal rights under the law, and equal pay.  Women know how to influence, how to wield power, how to change things at all levels—without having to dedicate themselves to the boring, ritualistic, and time-consuming male institutions that so many seem to think are all-powerful.

I ask men to quit lamely trying to recruit us to your political parties, science symposiums, and engineering faculties.  We know what roles we want, what roles we are good at, and what we want to do with our lives.  Quit worrying about us and speaking of "glass ceilings" and the nepotism of 'the old boys' club.

Women dominate the landscape of true power—we are the ones exercising mat leave, running the Day Cares, sitting behind the teachers' desks in the elementary school class rooms.  We already inhabit the positions of real

power—no need to become corporate executives, party leaders, engineers…we are the mothers, teachers, mentors, nurturers of such men, and therein lies our power.

Come on, people—the hand that rocks the cradle and wipes the tears, and bandages the skinned knee is the hand in which true power lies.  These are the hands and hearts and minds which are moulding the new generation, the new society, the new world.

We ladies got power, and for generations we've known how to use it wisely.  We're doing fine, guys—continue on without us.

Please.

Eileen

Schuh, Author of THE TRAZ, Schrödinger's Cat

Sample/purchase THE TRAZ: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005199RFE

Sample/Purchase

Schrödinger's Cat: http://amzn.to/nhT0PX

Web site: http://www.eileenschuh.com

Blog: http://eileenschuh.blogspot.com

How to book confession

OK, I have a confession to make.  I know it's really really bad and slightly naughty.  In fact I'm a little bit ashamed of it.

Hello-

My name is Lucinda and I….

I don't know if I can say it.  I must.  I need to get this off my chest.

I read Romance novels.  Yes, I said it.  Me, a classically trained writer, an English teacher and a die hard Science Fiction and Fantasy fan, I read smutty, descriptive romance novels.

Every once in a while I want to read escapist literature.  Something with an easy to follow plot and predictable story line.  Instead of getting caught up in major plot entanglements, I can delight in the failings and faults of these fictional lovers.  I know, I know, the writing is formulaic.  The plot is tired and overdone and the female heroine, despite appearing strong and independent, falls in love with the over-bearing machismo male.  But, there's something about the simplicity of the romance that clears my palate.  It's like eating sorbet between courses (something I've really never done).  Reading a simple romance novel clears my mind and allows me to focus on my writing or any other task.  Romance authors are usually fairly good at writing description and creating a believable scenery and slightly less believable characters.  I have really learned how to write descriptive details by reading my romance authors.  I tend to favor Johanna Lindsey, although I have been known to pick up a few other romance novels along the way.

When I am reading my romances my husband likes to ask what I am reading.  I always tell him "My how to books?"   When he asks what I am learning to do I open the book to one of the descriptive passages and read a few lines.  It's one way we keep the lines of communication open and usually leads into a real conversation on other topics.  It's all in fun.

Well, now that I got that off my chest, I have some reading to do.  Enjoy.