Lani Wendt Young's Blog, page 14

The Samoa Launch of TELESA:The Covenant Keeper.

Every book is borne from the creative fire of the writer who dared to envision it but it represents the love, sweat and tears of many people. Tonight I pay tribute to those who helped spark the fire of my writing dreams, and who's encouragement gave fuel to their intensity.  As my first fiction novel is launched with fire, I speak to you of some of the elements required to nurture the flame of creativity – in our children, in our youth, in ourselves.
The foundation for that fire can be first be provided by  parents. I was blessed to grow up in a home filled with books. My mum read to us when we were little and my Dad would take us to the Nelson library every week so we could borrow stacks of books at a time.  From a very young age then, I have known the joy to be found in books. I have walked in the world of stories, soared through the wilderness of imagination and lingered in the realm of dreams.
The fire of creativity can be sparked by teachers.  In std4, my teacher the late Mrs Agnes Stewart read my story about a mango tree – out loud to the class. She told everyone that I had a great imagination and I should be a writer. A  spark of a dream was lit on that day. I wrote a letter to my famous Uncle, the author Albert Wendt, asking him what should I do to be a writer? He actually wrote back to me and said 'if you want to be a writer then you have to write a lot. All the time. About everything.' He thanked me for writing him such a lovely letter and included a 20 dollar note for an ice cream.  I was very encouraged by this, especially the money for ice cream. Wow, I thought, surely this would be the start of many more dollars to come, many more ice creams to come from my writing!  (If only.)
The creative fire can be fuelled by mentors and role models.  As a young teacher at Samoa college, I was fortunate to be on a team of exam markers of PSSC English, led by Dr Emma Kruse Vaai. She reminisced abt about marking my exam papers many moons ago. Emma asked me if I was still writing and suggested I write stories for the NZ School journal series.  And so that sleeping writing flame was reawakened and many short stories followed. Over the years, Emma continued to take the time in the midst of her own career to ask after my writing, offer advice– nudging me, harassing me about getting things written and published. The creative fire can also be fuelled by literary patrons, successful people in the business community who see the possibilities even when you can't.  In 2009, Mr Hans Joe Keil commissioned me to write a book about the 29/09 tsunami. He wanted it written within the space of 8 months. Even though I had never written a book before, Mr Keil still had the confidence to  entrust that project to me. Albert Wendt spoke at the NZ book launch, and called Mr Keils decision – a foolishly brave one. I am grateful for Mr Keils foolish bravery - because of the "Pacific Tsunami Galu Afi" book, I developed some of the discipline and endurance required to start a book and finish it.
There are particular challenges associated with being a woman and trying to be a writer. I belong to an online network of Pacific writers/bloggers. Most of them are women. Many of them are Samoan. Some of them are here tonight. All of us are trying to raise families, be supportive partners, pursue careers that actually bring in money for ice cream – and then late at night – we are trying to write. Blogs, stories, poetry, books.  So many things intrude on a woman's attempts to voice the stories within her.  That is why, it is so vital for a woman to write with the encouragement of her family – her partner, her children – because they are the ones who must be patient when theres no dinner cooked, the house is messy, or when a mother is grumpy because she's been up all night writing. My children were the first ones to read pieces of the TELESA bk and they fuelled my writing with their enthusiastic enjoyment of it. 
My parents, various teachers throughout the years, mentors, role models and  patrons, my fellow Pacific women bloggers – all have helped to make this book possible and I offer them my gratitude. Thank you.
 However, TELESA is primarily a love story, and so it is dedicated to the one person who teaches me daily, how to love with faith, fun and fire –  my husband Darren. I am only able to write because of his patient support. He could not be here with me because somebody has to take care of the five children when the mum is away, and so this night of TELESA book celebration is somewhat incomplete for me. There are not many men strong enough and courageous enough to fully support a woman in the pursuit of her dreams and I am so thankful to have a partner who loves me enough to believe in my writing choices. There are two  things that I hope you take away from this nite, two things I hope that reading TELESA will impress upon you.*Our Samoan writers need our support. As parents, spouses, educators, as a business community, as a nation – we all have a part to play in nurturing those voices who will speak our stories to the world.2.     *You can never be too young, too old, or too busy – to embrace the creative fire that burns within you.  Perhaps your fire is stories, perhaps it is poetry like Henrietta Devoe AhChong who will soon launch her first collection, or  maybe its photography and design like Tim and Efi Rasmussen and Jordan Kwan who's TELESA photos and trailer amazed us at the start of this evening, it could be the intricate artistry of bone carving like Beau rasmussen, dance, music, fashion, whatever.  To all those who have a quiet creative spark within them, I say, dare to dream. Unleash the creative fire that burns with you and set the world alight with the beauty of your god-given talents.Faafetai tele lava. Thank you.

From Me to You.

In a few hours I will fly out to Samoa where I will spend a week in various TELESA book launch activities. I will do things like - chat to media at a press conference, visit a school or two, bake furiously for a Literary Evening at Plantation House, sign books at some local bookshops, do a couple of tv interviews, launch my book at a gathering of 200  invited guests,,,and generally try not to sound like a dork.I'm getting more and more apprehensive as the countdown continues. Why?

* I'm already missing my family and I haven't even left yet. I bought them all chocolate donuts for breakfast. (Assuaging my guilt with sugar.) And I had tears in my eyes when I kissed them goodbye for school. I wish, I wish that they were all going with me but it's exam time. And I'm not rich enough, not unless I squirrel them away in my suitcase.

*I'm worried about the 'traditional' generation who might think that I have ripped off their 'telesa' geneaology and ancestral family legends. They might get mad and throw rocks at me. Or tell everyone not to buy my book. Both of which would be really bad... Im hoping the media will alert them to the fact that no, my book is not a historical account of myth and legend but rather, a romance-laden, thriller with hints of the supernatural. And an overabundance of rippling muscle and gleaming abs...

*I love my hermit cave. I love my online friends. I love my blogging buddies. The thought of getting out into the real world, talking to real people, organizing real functions for masses of those real people, giving speeches, smiling, answering questions about my book, possibly dodging missiles of criticism about my book...well, lets just say that its kinda freaking me out. For me, this is the most challenging and difficult part of being  a writer. The social interaction that's required to promote my writing and get my book out there. I can't wait to be back in my cave. Writing book two.

So I may not be able to blog regularly in the next week - but if you're a Sleepless in Samoa blog reader who lives in Samoa? Pleeease, I have a favor to ask of you... if you see me skulking about, could you please  be nice, say "Hi", reassure me that nobody is waiting to throw rocks at me, remind me that life will go on even if I make a mistake in my launch speech...and generally make life outside the Hermit Cave a less scary place to be! Thank you.

Sincerely, Me.

"Sell me Your Bed"

Big Son: "Hi Bella, can I have a hug?"
4yr old Bella: "No."
Big Son: "Pleease?"
Bella: "Give me fifty cents and I hug you."
Big Son ( aghast): "What!?"

I am somewhat troubled by my 4yr old's willingness to exchange affection for cash...BUT I am impressed with her entrepeneurial spirit. It got me thinking about a similar little girl that I knew, a long time ago. My little sister Scrooge McDuck. Her understanding of money and how it works, is legendary in our family. As a child she was a miser with her allowance which meant that she still had cash long after ours was gone. At the gentle age of eight, she was happy to lend us money though. With interest. And penalty fees. (Who in hell understands financial stuff like 'interest' when they're eight?!)

Once my littlest sister Erin Brokovich wanted to borrow money to buy lolisaiga. Scrooge gladly lent her two dollars. Then when Brokovich failed to make her payments,(Hello, she was only five so can you blame her for being a slack debt repayer?)  the interest began to accrue. Scrooge offered Brokovich a 'way out'.

"Sell me your bed for five dollars. That way you can clear your debt and have money left over."

What a wonderful proposition that seemed to silly clueless Brokovich. "Okay!" And off she went to buy herself some more lollies.That night, as she was about to get in to bed, Scrooge stopped her. "What are you doing? You can't sleep there, that's MY bed now. I own it remember?"

"Where am I supposed to sleep?" Brokovich wailed pitifully.

"On the floor. OR you could pay me rent for the bed. I'll let you sleep on it but you have to pay me when you get your next allowance."

This carried on for several weeks until the inevitable occurred. The rent piled up, the interest added on and soon, there was no way in heck that Brokovich could ever hope to pay Scrooge back. Not unless she robbed the bank. Or sold a kidney on the black market. At age five, the child had spent more than she earned. So she started sleeping on the floor.

Which is where my mother found her one night. "What on earth are you doing sleeping on the floor?"

"I can't sleep on the bed because it belongs to Scrooge and I can't afford the rent."

My parents had to explain some important details to both sisters. Like, hello WE own this bed and neither of you should be selling or buying it! Or ransoming the other for it. And how it bordered on exploitative, cruel and rather illegal to be a Biblical (greedy) moneylender to one's little sister. Especially when she was only five...

Yes,my Bella's offer of hugs for cash reminded me of my little sisters. Which may not be a bad thing. Because the miser Scrooge grew up to be a chemical engineer who travels the world doing chemical engineering stuff. And who still has way more money than the rest of us. Brokovich, the previously exploited sister grew up to become a high-profile lawyer who helps rid the financial world of crime. (And money-lender exploiters probably.)

Yes, either way, I have high hopes for the 4yr old Bella Beast. Her future looks bright.

More Ways to Embarrass Your Children

                       No event is complete without lots of these.. .
 Big Son is getting a prize at his Senior Prizegiving this week. He thinks it's either the History Prize. Or the award for First in his class. Or both. I said it might be for 'The Boy Who looks in the mirror the mostest.' Or, 'The Boy who has the nastiest, messiest bedroom BUT still manages to be lauded as best dressed among all his peers.' Or 'The Boy who takes an hour to wash the dishes because he's listening to his iPod and dancing at the same time.' He rolled his eyes and said, 'No Mum , whatever!'

We are very proud of Big Son, especially considering that we only moved to New Zealand ten months ago and school has been one big journey of new things, new people, new subjects and more. I'm excited and I may have gotten a little carried away...

"I'm so proud of you son. You know what I'm going to do? I'm going to make you some flower leis to put on you when you get your prize."

Look of horror. "No mum, you can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because nobody else's parents do that."

"How do you know? This is your first ever prizegiving in New Zealand. Besides, who cares what other parents do?"

" I do." He furiously texts his friends. Then triumphant. "See my friend David said nobody does that at prizegiving. You can't."

"Excuse me? This is a tradition. A cultural and a family tradition. I always make you a flower lei when you get an award  at prizegiving. I don't care if nobody else does it. I'm going to.Is David getting a prize?"

"Yes."

"Good, then I'll make him a flower lei too. And that beautiful girlfriend of yours who's singing a solo at prizegiving? I'm going to make her a flower lei too."

Big Son looks like he's going to throw up. Faint. Run away from home. Doesn't he know me by now? Never tell a psycho mother that she CAN"T do something just because 'nobody else's mum does that.' I'm on a roll  "And while I'm at it, I might make one for the Principal. And your teacher. That way we're sharing the Samoan cultural love, giving everyone a taste of Pacific prizegiving traditions AND that way, you won't be the only one. And when I come up on the stage, I might sing a song, CHOO HOO! Do a little siva dancing. Kiss you on both cheeks. Oh it's going to be so much fun..."

Big Son gives up trying to change my mind and skulks off to his pit of darkness bedroom. Leaving me chuckling at my own deviousness.

And then I walk outside into my NZ backyard. Sh**. I forgot. Unlike back home in Samoa, we now have a garden with not a single flowering bush or tree. Just weeds and tangles as far as the eye can see. Where am I going to get buckets of flowers from anyway? I don't have trillions to waste buying them from the florist. And I hate lolly leis. They are sooo plastic, not to mention unhealthy...

Oh well. I can be enterprising and Martha-Stewart creative. Big Son may end up having leis made of grass. He's reeeally going to make a lasting impression at prizegiving.

Naked Confrontations

A Story about a very Naked Conversation.

"Did you know that when you google your name and the word 'naked' together - then all these pictures come up?" (Disapproving, possibly angry face.)

"Pictures of what?" (Innocent surprised face.)

"Lots of pictures of men. There's a few pictures of you but mostly pictures of men."

"Are any of them naked?"

"No."

"Am I naked?"

"No."

"So what's the problem then? And what the heck are you doing googling 'Lani Wendt Young naked' for?! You're my husband, you've seen me naked a zillion times - even when you don't want to."

"Umm, I was just checking. Don't change the subject. Did you know there are all these pictures of men on your blog? I don't understand why you have so many pictures like that on your blog."

(Considers for a fleeting moment playing super dumb and saying, 'Really?! How did they get on there? Damn internet viruses and spammers are getting so advanced these days.' Unfortunately, the Hot Man's other name is the Very Clever Man and she knows he won't buy it.)

"They're not really pictures of MEN. They're pictures of TATTOOS (on men). I do a weekly feature on Pacific tattoos and so...the men who own them have to be on there too. They are the most popular posts on my blog.My readers are very interested in Pacific tattoos." Argument sounds really weak, even to her. He doesn't look convinced.

(Thinks really fast on her feet. Desperate diversionary tactics are required. Uses very bestest sultry voice and pose. )

"Darling, would you like me to get naked?"

And this is what happens when your husband gets an iPad and discovers the wonders of Google.  And this is also the reason why there is no Tattoo Friday feature this week. 


The End.

TUSITALA FIAPOTO - A POET'S JOURNEY

This week's feature is a form of writing artistry which has always eluded me - poetry.  I've always loved reading poetry but never been able to write any so I'm thrilled to have Pacific Poet,  James Toma, share his writing journey with us and also give other aspiring poets other some tips for writing and publishing their work.
                               Talofa!  I guess I am very humbled that goddess storyteller Lani Wendt Young approached me about contributing to the much anticipated TusitalaFiapoto newsletter.  First of all, for me, the world of writing (whether it is fiction, nonfiction, and/or poetry) takes a lot of dedication, patience, determination, making sacrifices, and of course a very active imagination.              My hobby of writing poetry started when I was a senior at Samoana High School in American Samoa.  At that time, I was a student reporter writing articles for the school's student-run newspaper, Samoana Times.  I also had won awards from the school system's sponsored monthly Young Writer's Essay contests.  So I knew about writing nonfiction at that point.  But no way was I a poet…yet.              Aside from writing, I grew  reading books and listening to Pop/Rock (Madonna, Michael Jackson) and soft rock/light listening (Mariah Carey, Elton John).  So when I became a Secretary for the school's Mata'ala (yearbook) Staff my creative mind immediately went to work.  What will the writer in me do for the school year's mata'ala?  There is no room for a fictional short story, no room for a nonfiction essay…what?  Then the idea of a poem hit me and I was completely clueless.  How to start?  What would be the first line?  That time, Princess Diana's death was all over the media and Elton's "Candle In the Wind" was on rotation on the island's KSBS FM 92.1.  I got the title right away because Elton mentioned "legend" in the song.  For my poem, I worked on the concept of Samoana High as my soon-to-be alma mater and that a poem saluting us (the students) as well as saying goodbye to SHS would be fitting.  It should have that theme, that concept.  So I wrote the poem and thus, "Legends of the Sea" (because the school mascot was the shark)was born.            "Legends" became a hit with my colleagues and the Editor of the Mata'ala decided for it to be the overall theme of the mata'ala.  It was published in the 1997-98 mata'ala and was also set into a farewell song for my class' ('98) graduation ceremony at the falelaumei in American Samoa.  "Legends" had all of the marketing  elements:·         I considered my audience :  My audience was the student body of Samoana High School.  I included the school's colors, the school name, a thank you to our parents, etc.·         I referenced my culture:  Because I was Samoan I had to include my culture.  So I added the legend of the malie ma le laumei into the poem to make the piece not just for the readership of my schoolmates but for it to appeal to people outside of Samoana High.·         I mentioned the creator above:  I believe in the Lord so much and I was raised a strong Christian and that having the Lord in there would bless it so yeah…
            Two years later, I landed an internship as a Youth Reporter at the local newspaper Samoa Post.  I hosted my own page for the youth by the youth called Islandnext.  Its title derived from a line in the Spice Girls song "Move Over."  Lol, my love for music has such a huge role in my creativity skills.  For Islandnext, I had a column on there dedicated to the young poets of American Samoa.  I, myself contributed my poetry from time to time.  At this point, I can only remember one poem and it was called, "Into Fairyland."  This poem visualized American Samoa as a fairyland with all its colorful flowers and hospitable people, my people!!!  Islandnext would soon end as I decided to enroll at American Samoa Community College.            As a student of ASCC, I knew that my writing poetry career must go on and that it must not stop!  (That is determination, always look for ways to publish your work.)  So I became a reporter for the college's newspaper and contributed three pieces of poetry that were published.  "Fairy Girl" (a eulogy to an English instructor that sadly passed away during my time at ASCC), "The Crying Mermaid/Fall of Hawaii" (a piece inspired by Hans Christian Andersen's famed tale and my own perspective of Hawaii and American Samoa's histories), and a tribute to my mom for Mother's Day, "Lo'u Tina Peleina."  The idea for the Samoan title came about from the singer Madonna's "La Isla Bonita" song.  Hehehehe, again music played a role there!!!    With all my success in American Samoa alone, I knew then that it was time for a more broader audience, an audience that means the United States and beyond.I moved to the USA.  My poetry writing career was put on hold for quite a long time due to so many reasons them including financial.  Yes, being a writer/poet does not mean a mansion or a luxurious lifestyle my friends.  Also, as a writer/poet, you should not think about money but about the joy of being published and sharing your work with the world.  Letting your voice be heard is your moment!!!By 2004, I was enrolled at Pierce College in Lakewood, WA and my English instructor was the advisor of the school's S (tudent) L (iterary) A (rts) M (agazine).  He loved my writing assignments so much that he asked me to contribute to that school year's edition of SLAM.  I remember coming home that day thinking intensely about what poems to submit.  I knew that this was not American Samoa so all my Samoan-themed poems in my diary will not go well with the intended audience.  I remember going through my private notebook of poems and finally decided that "oldtimes" (all in lowercased letters), "Criminal," "Birthmark", and "SLAM" (in the tradition of "Legends" I was hoping for it to be the theme of the magazine) were most fitting.  In the end, SLAM chose "oldtimes" and "Criminal" for publication.  I was ecstatic!!!  For brief description, "oldtimes" is a twist on the Moses story and on Greek mythology.  "Criminal" was a retelling of the Jesus crucifixion with a psychological twist.  One piece of advice at this moment:  write about what you know the most.  Do not write about something that you have no knowledge of.  Or what you can always do is research, research, and research.  Luckily, I grew up reading the TusiPa'ia (Holy Bible) and Bulfinch's Mythology.  SLAM was released in 2005 and it included a brief biography of me.  I got to read these two poems to the Pierce College student body as well as a small coffee shop in Seattle, WA.I moved to the Washington, DC metro area in Christmas 2005.  I have to tell you that DC is such an expensive area to live in!!!  Yes, VERY EXPENSIVE.  Since this was the capital city of the great US of A, I decided to get into its groove and adapt.  For the next five years I would go on to attend the annual National Book Festival on a yearly basis, concerts by artists like Mariah Carey, Sarah Brightman, and Katy Perry (Michael Jackson's Immortal concert is pending, wish me luck!!!), visits to amazing museums: Madam Tussauds DC and the National Gallery of Art (I went to an exhibit of the Tahitian artist Gauguin's works there), and of course the plethora of Marian art found at the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception just to name a few. By 2010, I finally submitted ten poems to Heliocentric Press http://www.facebook.com/pages/Heliocentric-Press/340699766186 all based on themes of darkness and despair.  As a poet, I want to grow and try other areas and themes.  So these ten poems are all depressing and melancholic but still fun (I think) to read.  The editor loved them and has chosen to publish them all in an anthology soon to be released called In the Valley of Hinnom.  It is in the process of production and will be available soon. Also, on November 8, 2011 some of my poems will be featured online at: http://itsgoldenmag.org/Now, I maintain a Samoan-bilingual/ Pacific islander poetry blog on the Polycafe website where all other Polynesian artists and businesspersons gather to share their talents online.  The poems I have on there are all Polynesian-themed and my personal favorites are "Magical", "Number 1", "Penina", "Aiga Bus", "Volcano", and "Boy of Coconuts."  It also has photos and drawings you the Pacific Islander would enjoy or relate to.  They were all written while listening to music from Mariah Carey, TeVaka, Le Anivas, Katy Perry, etc.My own pieces of advice to budding poets of the Pacific are:·         Read, Imagine, and Write!:  The age-old counselto all writers and poets is to continue to read those books and magazines and newspapers and you will go far.  Use that imagination of yours to compose poems in your head and then write them out on any notepad, notebook, paper napkin, post-it note, or type them on your laptop, pc, etc.  Remember to write about your personal experiences and things you really know about.  Hey, you can be like me since you're a Pacific poet, write about your culture, whether you're Samoan, Tongan, Maori, Fijian, or Chamorro.  Do your homework and research a topic you are not that familiar with!  And then lose yourself in your poetry, there should not be any restriction, it's a free world…  (Poems also don't have to rhyme but of course it's got to have a rhythm…)  Finally, you must have a skilled English instructor/professor to educate you on the structures and forms of poetry there are in this world.  Take a creative writing class today in college or get to know your high school English teacher…
·         Subscribe!:  Yes, I couldn't do it without the help of these two great magazines for writers and poets alike.  Writer's Digest and Poets and Writers.  They usually list publishers that are looking for your type of work, tips on how to market/sell your work, and all the hoopla of the writing world!  They are somewhat costly but guess what!  You can sign yourself up online to receive Poets and Writer's free newsletter in your email.  Go to their website at http://www.pw.org/ (or copy/paste it into your browser)and sign up for it with your email address, it's FREE!  You won't regret it, it's filled with so much info that you need to get your work out there…
·         Loud and Out!:  I know that Samoans love Hip Hop/ Rap music so let me tell you now if you didn't already know that there's two types of poetry for that:  1) Spoken Word and 2) Performance poetry.  So if you've got a voice that needs to be heard, concerns about social issues in your community, etc. then those two are what you need to look into.  You must do your homework and research them online.  In New Zealand, they have the South Auckland Poets Collective group which has a facebook page at http://www.facebook.com/spoetscollective1. 
·         Share your work with your family and friends!:  Get support for your poetry writing career!  Let your family and/or friends read your work and then gain their readership.  If you're a love poem writer, an enthusiastic poem writer, an empowering poem writer, then yes!  Brighten someone's day with your poetry!  If they are in a diary, rewrite them out on a piece of paper then…So there you have it!  My incredible journey in the poetry writing universe and of course my own knowledge of this craft.  I know that there are others with their own journeys, their own stories, their own ladders, their own sagas, their own formulas but those aforementioned are mine personally.  I hope it inspires someone out there and hey,  Who knows?  You may even be better than me but the point of all this is you need to get your talent out.  You need to be ambitious about it.  A tip to to the busy-bees (the employed or parent poet) keep a diary and in that diary you can write your life out in it.  All your frustrations, your secrets, your crushes, etc. please record them down for later editing and sculpting into poetry okay?  Iamanuia le aso ma to'aga I lautalenimai le Atua!  Aua le fiugofie!!!Tofasoifua!Jamztoma (James Toma)

  Dance To the Samoan BeatI'd like to dance to the Samoan beatClap my hands, skip my little feetMoving to the rhythm of the musicI am the Elvis of the South Pacific!
                                                I can also bea chief's daughter,                an orator, a warrior, ora proud ancestor… 
I'd like to dance to the Samoan beatTell a story with my hand routinesMake the ancient spirits come alive,And dance on for all time!
ElysiumElegant waterfalls Scenic fantasyAngels they lureOur women awayMake love to themOh such rhythm!The sweetness they create
I often dreamWhen I enter the afterlifeIs there such a place- For you and I?
Birds and heroesAnd damsels aglow Paradise unlimitedHearts not closedZone for the saintsAnd fortunate sinnersThis everlasting placeThat holds much honor
I meditate oftenFollowing confessionAbout such destinyFor you or me
Mountains of goldRainbow water that flowsA potion of youthA world of truthBlessed music from trumpetsPlaying by the entranceOf perceived paradiseBeyond the sunlight
And you and I, as islandersKnow when to surrenderTo this ElysiumLink to my polycafe poetry blog:  http://polycafe.ning.com/profile/jamztomaOr friend me on facebook:  http://www.facebook.com/jamztoma

Thank you James for sharing your journey with us! We invite everyone to connect with James via the links provided and also read more of his poetry. Showcased in this week's newsletter are several other Pacific poets and their work as well. Enjoy!

Let's Throw Stones at the Bad Lazy Mother

Once a year our church has the children give the program. The children practise for weeks, reciting scriptures, singing songs and going thru little skits. (Except for my children.)  It's the one Sunday you are guaranteed not to be able to find a parking spot when you come to late to church. (Like we did.) It's the one Sunday when all the children are dressed in their sparkling white clothes and all the boys sport bowties. (Except for my children.)

Yes, the Children's Sunday presentation is a beautiful event. Parents cry when their little ones say their parts. Mothers get that warm sense of satisfaction as their child raises their voice in song. Fathers beam proudly. Everyone is uplifted and inspired.

That is what Children's Sunday is supposed to be like. And it used to be like that for us, way back when we had ONE, TWO children. But now? Now I have five children. And I'm old. And lazy tired. Busy. And I take a far more relaxed, non-stressed, un-freaked-out approach to it all. So I never got around to checking whether or not my three young children had learnt their parts. I left that to their church teachers. And when the trio told me, 'We have to wear new white dresses,white shirts,a red bowtie for the program" I said, Don't be ridiculous. We don't have money to waste on that stuff. Besides, Zach will just ruin a white shirt by playing in the dirt and it will be ripped within a few hours. You already have nice church clothes. Wear those. And when they tried to protest, I used it as a teaching moment. Does God care what color clothes you wear? No, I don't think so. As long as they are clean and modest. What is important to God? It ain't bowties, let me tell ya!

We got to the church a teensie bit late. The carpark was full, we had to park on the garden. Inside, all the other children were already up on the stand and getting ready to start the program. They were a shining calvacade of angels. All dressed in white. And the boys had perfect red bowties. My husband looked at me in accusing horror. "They're all wearing white! What about your kids?" I said, Does God care what color clothes they wear?! blah blah. He didn't look convinced. I sent the children up to the stand. Zach looked very handsome. And very obvious in his blue plaid shirt. Zion was shinier than everyone else in her pink glitter top. The program started. Bella loudly shouted her line into the mike. (I didnt even know she had one. Who makes 3 year olds recite scriptures in church?!) But she yelled it no problem and I wanted to lead a stadium wave on her behalf. Zion sang a duet number with another little boy. She sounded amazing. ( So glad she doesnt take after me in the voice dept.) Zach was up next. Rocked his verses with confident ease. (Must have been the shirt...) And then Zion had to recite her part. She stood up, started eagerly...and then halfway thru she stopped. Abruptly. Stamped her foot. And exclaimed VERY LOUDLY into the mike,  "Oh darn it, I forgot my words!"

Heads turned to seek out the parents of this cursing child. I laughed. And sent Zion the biggest smile and most encouraging thumbs-up that was legally allowed in a place of worship. My husband gave me a look of accusing horror. (Dude, enough with the horror already. She's your kid too.)  My teenagers cringed and gave me looks of accusing horror. "Mum, why didn't you make sure she knew her part!?"  I said, "Why didn't you? She's your little sister."  A teacher rushed to give Zion a piece of paper to read from. She finished her part and sat down. I was so proud of her. She wore a pink glitter top, she spoke, she stumbled, she swore, and then she got back up and carried on to the end.

So, was this event another example of what a bad lazy mother I am? Yes. Did my children still rock in spite of their loser mother? Most definitely. Will I try to be good next year and make sure my children are better prepared? Probably. But I'm still convinced that God doesn't care what color clothes we wear. So there.

And I'm super grateful that Zion didn't say, "Oh shit." Like her mum does.
Thank you for helping my blog host a record 18,000 visits last month. My YA urban fantasy romance  Telesa:The Covenant Keeper   is now avail. from Amazon/Smashwords. Check out the reviews and see if this is a fire you would like to read more of!  

When Water Burns: A new extract.

"WHEN WATER BURNS" Book Two in the Telesa Trilogy, coming in March 2012
An extract.

"Leila! Leila, where are you?"

Daniel. He had come looking for me. Wildly I looked from Keahi in flames and back down again to my singed clothing. What to do? But it was too late to do anything because Daniel stepped into the clearing and his gaze took in everything. Keahi in full fire mode, me with charred clothing and behind me the still-burning evidence of Keahi's attack.

Daniel's reaction was instantaneous. "What are you doing? Get away from her!" Without hesitation, he charged at a fiery Keahi and tackled him with all the fury of a two hundred pound plus rugby player. Caught off guard, Keahi was knocked to the ground, his flames dimmed but still alight. Still enough to burn. Still enough to harm.

"Daniel no! Get off him." I shouted as I ran forward to try and pull Daniel away from a stunned Keahi. "What are you doing? He's burning at magma temperatures, you're going to get burned, who does that? Who tackles a fire god? Oh no…" My voice faded as the air filled with the smell of burnt cloth and burnt flesh. "Daniel! No…"
Daniel slowly raised himself to a seated position, ignoring the burns on his face, chest and arms. He shook his head at me "I'm fine. But he's not going to be by the time I'm finished with him." He pushed me aside and stood , walking over to where Keahi was pulling himself to a standing position.

Keahi saw him coming and laughed. "Oh yeah? And just what are you going to do to me?" He flexed his shoulders and lit up his hands again, summoning flame from his feet to -…But before fire could reach his upper torso, Daniel had reached him. Reached him and hit him in the face. "This." A blow so swift that I barely registered it. Fist smashed against flesh. Bone jarred against bone. Keahi's head snapped back and he fell back to the ground.

Daniel stood over him. His voice was low, venomous. "Keep away from my girlfriend. Don't ever try to hurt her again. Or I'll kill you."
Keahi lay in the dirt, all flames knocked out of him as he shook his head dazedly, bringing a hand up to wipe the trickle of blood from his cut lip. His nakedness screamed at me in the night. He made no attempts to cover up. Or to fight back. He just lay back on the ground and laughed some more. His voice dripped with satisfaction.

"I wasn't hurting her you fool. I was kissing her. And she was loving it."

Daniel didn't even blink. Didn't even entertain a question, a thought, a fleeting moment of doubt. Only shrugged dismissively and turned away, throwing back over his shoulder. "You're pathetic." His trust, his complete confidence in me, cut me with guilt. He walked over and took me gently in his arms. His voice was soft. "Hey, are you ok? Did he hurt you?"
I shook my head. "No, I'm fine." Over his shoulder I could see Keahi sitting up on the ground, staring at us with a sardonic expression. He caught my gaze and rolled his eyes, his face contemptuous. I pulled away and checked out Daniel's injuries. Blistering flesh showed through burnt patches of fabric and the skin of his forearms was burnt raw. "But you're not. Come on, lets get out of here."
He winced as I took his hand and smiled somewhat shamefacedly. "Yeah, I guess I wasn't really thinking things through." His face paled and he half-stumbled and swayed against me in the moonlight. The burn damage was starting to take its toll on him. His pain pierced me with guilt.

Who does that? Who tackles a fire god? Who reacts instantly and risks everything to protect you? A boy who loves you as much as Daniel does.

A Mother Heart.

I had to speak at church about motherhood and what it means to 'have a mother heart'.  Preparing for that got me thinking about this (often crazy) parenting journey that I'm on. I don't often do this on my blog - but today I'd like to share some things that are an essential foundation in my life...

 I am the last person who should be giving a talk about what it means to have a mother heart. I was not raised to honor motherhood, look forward to marriage. Or taught to be a nurturer. My parents wanted me and my sisters to be academic achievers and successful, independent career women. They told us "don't go to BYU university because people only go there to get married to other Mormons." My mum told me "returned missionaries are not good boys to date because they haven't finished school or gotten a great job yet."   I entered marriage and then motherhood – woefully ill-prepared. I could write an essay on feminism and give a rousing speech on women's rights but I couldn't do those Mormon mother things like cook. Clean. Sew. Arrange flowers. Make jam. And I had no clue how to be part of a partnership. Or look after a baby.  Or raise a family. I had no desire to do any of those things either. My life was all about ME. ME. ME. And me planning all the amazing ways that I was going to change the world. (I had a lot to learn.) I have been a mother now for 16 years and here's a few things I have learnt ( while trying to have a 'mother heart'!)·                 * A woman with a mother heart is a woman with an enormous capacity for love. And you dont need to be a biological mother to have a mother heart. Some of the most nurturing, caring and compassionate women in my life, are not 'mothers' in the biological sense of the word. My childhood 'Nanny' Peka continues to be my greatest example of unconditional mother love.  My bestest friend (you know who you are!) never had any children but is a mother to her extended family and the one that I always turn to for wise counsel about my own children.
             *Some women seem to be blessed with a natural gift for nurturing and caring for others. I'm not one of them. I didn't used to like children. And I certainly wasn't interested in nurturing anybody. Our first child was an emergency preterm baby who had to live in an incubator for several weeks until he was strong enough to go home. I didn't love him right away. I was more caught up in how sick, in pain and unhappy I was.  Late one nite I was crying in my hospital room, feeling sorry for myself – when a voice, a feeling, prompted me to go and visit my baby in the neonatal unit several floors down. I shuffled through deserted halls of a sleeping hospital until I stood beside my tiny baby asleep in his glass box hooked up to wires and machines. I looked at him and my Heavenly Father – gave me a gentle reprimand. He said, this is your son. I love him and I have entrusted him to you. You're his mother and he needs you to love him.  Get over yourself enough to love this child. I committed myself then to 'getting over myself' and putting my child first. I am grateful for a God who loves me enough to chasten me. My son is not a baby anymore, but he does complain sometimes that he wishes I didn't love him so much. Because then maybe I wouldn't be so protective of him!  
             *As a young mother, I loved my first child so much that I couldn't comprehend having any love left over to love a second child. I didn't understand then, that love is not a pie. You don't run out of pieces when you're trying to share it. The more that we love others, the greater our capacity for love grows. Through my love for my children, I have been able to gain a very small insight into how much God loves us as His children.  Enough to create this earth for us, Prepare a plan of salvation so that we can all return to live with Him again, enough to give us Prophets and leaders to help guide us. Enough to hope great things of us.  Only now can I begin to understand this kind of love – because this is how I feel about my children.  

 *A woman with a mother heart is a woman that is teachable. Christ taught that if we are to progress, we must become as little children, meek and submissive, willing to listen and learn. I thought I was a very clever woman – until I had children.  And then I realized that I really didn't know much at all about anything.  Having a child was a huge wake up call for me. Me and Darren were responsible for a whole other person who would look to us for guidance. We couldn't do it alone. It is such a humbling and terrifying thing to be responsible for some children – whether they're your own or someone elses! As a parent I look to the Lord for guidance and my most fervent prayers are those asking for help to be a better mother. Within my extended family, in my community I am always looking for help with my parenting journey and at church, I am taught by women of all ages  as they share their talents and their experiences with me.  I look to my husband who is so patient and supportive of me as I seem to take forever to learn how to be a good wife and mother. 
        *But most of all – I look to my children who teach me everyday. About faith, patience, how to love better, how to laugh more, and how to forgive quicker. The other day we yelled at Bella because she was drawing in one of my brand new TELESA books that had just arrived from the printer. She ran and hid behind her bed, crying. I went to find her and she was sobbing, she said, "Im sorry Mama, I was trying to write your name in your book. It was a surprise for you. Everybody makes mistakes." She kept repeating that "Everybody makes mistakes."    * I make so many mistakes with my children – and at times I despair of ever being worthy of such choice spirits to mother. Satan wants us to be weighted down with guilt and discouragement but the Lord frequently reminds us that through the atonement, repentance and forgiveness is possible. Yes, everybody makes mistakes – the key is to learn and grow/progress from our mistakes. My children have taught me to be teachable.    *The world and sometimes, even your own family – will tell you that being a wife and even worse, a mother – is a boring, value-less occupation. In my experience, yes there are moments, days, that are boring and frustrating, moments that drive you nuts. But I testify that nothing else has given me greater joy than being a parent. I still can't sew. Or cook very good. But through my calling as a wife and mother, I have developed many other skills and talents. Being a mother has helped me to be a better teacher, a wiser leader, a more creative writer. I know how to love others better. I have drawn closer to my Heavenly Father. And now I understand what our leaders mean when they say:  
" There is no limit to what a woman with a mother heart can accomplish. Righteous women have changed the course of history and will continue to do so. Their influence will spread and grow exponentially throughout the eternities ." 
      A woman with a mother heart can change the world then – one child, one person at a time.  
      Even if that one person is you.

TUSITALA FIAPOTO - WRITING CHILDREN'S STORIES

More than 15 million children's books are sold in Australasia each year. Worldwide, more than $2.5 billion worth of children's books are purchased annually, and more than 75% of publishers welcome children's material. Thats  A LOT of books. A lot of stories. A lot of writers writing stories for children. You could be one of them. Welcome to the first edition of  TUSITALA FIAPOTO where Pacific ( or otherwise) writers of all genres and all flavours can come together to share insight, experiences and tips as we seek to get our work published, recognized, read and shared. Today's focus is on writing stories for children. The full edition of this feature has been emailed to all those who expressed an interest in the FIAPOTO network. It contains - tips on how to write stories for children, where to go for help, where to submit your work and more. If you have not received a copy, please comment with your email address and one will be sent to you. Next week's edition will focus on Writing Poetry. ( Something which I know nothing about.) NZ poet Maryanne Pale will share her experience and other Pacific poets will also be featured. If you have work or thoughts that you would like to share on the topic please contact me!   *************************************************I  write stories for children which are published by the Learning Media NZ School Journal Series. School Journals are used extensively in schools throughout NZ and the Pacific. Anyone who went to school in Samoa or anywhere else in the Pacific islands will remember reading school journals in class sometime somewhere way back when!  There are different journals for different age groups ranging from the 'Junior Journal' to the 'Ready to Read' series to the senior school journal.  Many acclaimed authors have written stories for the Journal series, including NZ  Margaret Mahy, Janet Frame and Joy Cowley.  Two Samoan women writers and academic leaders who have always been a source of inspiration for me; Dr Peggy Fairbairn-Dunlop and Dr Emma Kruse-Vaai have had their stories published by the series as well and a long time ago, they were the first to suggest that I write stories for the School Journal.  Every writer needs a starting point, and this could be yours. Why should you write children's stories for the NZ School Journal series?1.     Money . (Because I'm shallow and poor enough that this is a great reason to write stories.) If they publish your story, Learning Media (LM) pays between $400 to $650 NZD for a story. That's not bad for a 2-page piece of writing. IF your story is then adapted and used for an alternate format, you are paid more. 'Shark Day' was my first story published by LM in the Junior Journal. It was then translated to Samoan and re-published in the Samoan journal series . A few months later it was audio recorded and put on tape for classroom use and then later again, it was put on CD Rom with work activities for students to use on the computer. I was offered a new contract and received further payments for each new format. Reminder, even though LM pays you for the use of your story, you still retain the copyright and can publish it in future collections etc.2.     Demand . They are urgently looking for stories with a Pacific flavor. LM is one of the largest suppliers of curriculum materials to NZ/Pacific schools. A recent study pointed out that there was not enough material in their Journals about Pacific people and what WAS there  - primarily showed Pacific islanders involved with food/eating. Umm stereotypical much?!  By writing stories for the Journal series, you can help to provide positive images for our Pacific youth, just by creating stories they can relate to about experiences they themselves are having. In particular, they are looking for stories about Pacific Islanders living in contemporary NZ. 3.     Build up your publishing record and profile . Most of us are not able to write all day 24-7. We have to juggle family and work and everything else and somehow find time to write. Short fiction and esp REALLY short fiction for kids is an ideal writing project. For multi-tasking women especially. Writing a novel will take months. But writing a 2-3 page story can take a few days. Polishing and editing it can take a few days more. Writing short fiction can be such a satisfying thing because you can finish it that much quicker and if an editor likes it, you can add that to your writing portfolio and resume. The first 'book' I ever sent to a publisher 8 years ago, was a collection of my short stories. The publisher very politely told me that there was no way in hell they would consider a collection from an unknown idiot like me. They encouraged me to get my individual stories published in literary journals and magazines, to build up my writer portfolio. I was grateful for the advice. I have been slowly submitting my stories all over the place since then. Two weeks ago I saw my work 'pay off' when two publishers offered me contracts to publish my short story collection. A collection which included several of the pieces previously published by the School Journal series.      Three good reasons why you should be writing children's stories. Three good reasons why you have no excuse for NOT being a published author...*smile*.   And for you poets and playwrights out there? School journals also feature poetry and plays for children.   Happy writing everyone!